The party went deep into the night after beating the crap out of Inter. The best part was when DP was running straight at goal and just stopped because Matrix keeled over, having just run his 20th ring around the big dummy. The FSC commentator said "if this was a boxing match, you'd have to stop it." Haha, what humiliation!
Yes Inter then did come to life and lay siege to our goal, but all in all, we beat the crap out of them. I guess you can't buy class, and we ramain the class of Italia.
It wasn't until I was into the second keg that I learned that rat-faced Cry-shevski and his band of blue Dookies got their asses whipped, as I predicted. Oh life is grand. HAPPY ASS PACKING.