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Oh, So You Don't Want to Come to the Games?



Well, well, well. My sources tell me you fans may not be doing your civic duty this fall. Not selling out a game? Not selling out two of them? Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think I'd be okay with just 65,000 tickets being sold?

Does Gary Barta have to choke a bitch?

Listen, you ignorant savages, I've done everything you could want. You grouse about a poor record, so I place in front of you two magnificent slaughters. The Hawkeyes will score in the thousands. These are wins, you fools! Spectacles of victory and violence! Stay home at your own peril!

Don't you dare start asking me for me. That's not how this works. There's a saying that the congregation doesn't own the church, or something like that. I can't be bothered to look it up because I'm too busy stomping out the last motherfucker who decreased his annual donation to $20,000. The Black and Gold Mafia doesn't bend, ever. So if you want more, sure, I'll give you more. I'll give you a fucking hostage situation. So if we're not set for 2008 by August 1, for every day there are still tickets available, I kill a starting football player. And I'm saving Jake Christensen for last, so don't count on waiting that one out. I'm not stupid.

These will not be pleasant killings, either. You think Bloodpunch Barta shows mercy? I'd rather fuck an ISU coed. With their cottage cheese asses. So just think about that when you turn on the news and Tony Moeaki's being immolated on the Pentacrest. And you know what the great thing is? They can't fight back. Seriously, it's in their scholarship agreements.

Buy the fucking season tickets, Hawk fans. Come to the games. If you decide to stay home in some sort of pathetic display of displeasure with the team, my god, you have no idea how much worse it can get, and I'd be more than happy to personally demonstrate to you the level of pain I can bring. Bloodpunch out, bitches.