It only took me twelve minutes to write this column

Hello, and welcome back to our competition. The weather is a bit chilly outside, but it's toasty warm here in the St. Fartenton Cathedral. With the amount of competitors we have gathered here today, this room is only going to heat up more, folks.

The crowd is a diverse one today, with people of all ages and from all walks of life in attendance. In one area of the crowd, you have older men with canes and walkers, smiling in anticipation of the spectacle they'll see here today. In another area of the crowd, you have the exact opposite, the younger men, who are also riled up. Some of them are riled up to the point where they've brought along gigantic novelty plastic asses, which they have tied to their heads with string.

I've never seen anything quite like it. I dare say the older gentlemen don't quite care for juvenile antics of that sort, but the generations are bonding together, nonetheless. It's nice to have a day in sports so great that people can put aside their differences, grab a few beers or soft drinks together, and cheer on the team.

Speaking of that, the two teams are coming out of the locker rooms, which in this case is the cathedral basement. What once housed bingo tournaments and Sunday School classes is now a stinky underworld that holds two of the toughest, most talented teams in the country.

The man to watch for on the home team, the Oregon Seat Warmers, is 5'7", 340-lb. Dennis Butte. He's got a lot of power when he takes position, and it's tough to get him on the ground. But he's got a challenge in Dug Smehl, the captain of the visiting team, the Nebraska Salty Bean Squirters. Smehl is 5'4", and weighs 335 lbs.

The two teams are taking their places. The first half will last thirty-seven minutes, and will be immediately followed by an intermission for some fresh air. Paramedics wearing surgical masks are on hand in case of any problems.

The horn has sounded and the game has begun! Butte charges for the most inexperienced player on the Salty Bean Squirters team. He turns, aims, and releases a gigantic fart right in the rookie's face! He tried to block it with his hands, a typical rookie mistake. As most longtime players or fans will tell you, farts travel right through your hands. The rookie is still on his feet, though, and . . . wait! What's this? Another player from the Seat Warmers has grabbed the rookie from behind! He's sitting on his face . . . OOHHH! THAT'S GOTTA HURT! The player ripped a loud one while gyrating back and forth on the rookie's head! The rookie is out for the count, and the crowd is going wild!

But what's this? Smehl of the Salty Bean Squirters has taken the opportunity to attack Butte. He's trying to wrestle him to the ground. This is the tricky part of the game, folks. To be able to build up a gigantic fart, hold it in your ass while you wrestle a man, and then release it without crapping your pants is a skill found only in this league.

Butte is getting a lot of help from his teammates. Five different Seat Warmers have toppled Smehl to the ground, and are taking turns farting in his face. OOOOH NOOOO! Three of them are doing it at once . . . but look at this! Smehl is back on his feet, with all three of the Seat Warmers players still sticking their asses in his face! They're farting loudly, creating a booming echo that runs chills down the spine of every crowd member in attendance.

Butte, in a brilliant move, has called a timeout. Trainers for the Seat Warmers bring out gigantic cans of Boston Baked Beans, and force feed it to the three players as fast as possible. As the whistle blows and time resumes, the three players seem to have found a second wind! Hahahahahaha! Second wind! That's a little athletic humor for you, folks!

Smehl is starting to wobble. He's fallen to the ground again! This time he may not be getting up! His body stops moving after a deep, wet fart from all three of the players at once. The beans have kicked in, and Smehl is out. The three players stand up, and Smehl lies motionless on the ground, his face now a deep brown color. It's a rough sport, folks.

Thus concludes today's match. There have been no injuries in the crowd, thanks to the excellent design of St. Fartenton Cathedral. The high ceilings in the cathedral make it just large enough to keep from suffocating anyone, but just small enough to make it virtually unbearable in here after a match. Four younger gentlemen had to run out in the parking lot and vomit, but other than that, it was a successful match. Join us again next time, when the Oregon Seat Warmers play the Texas We Gonna Shat in Your Faces for the national title.

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