Swami's NFL Pool 2018: The Root of the Taunt of the Week XIV

December 19, 2011

The Root of the Taunt of the Week XIV

**Due to technical difficulties, of which I am still not entirely sure, the Saturday night Root of the Week posting did not publish to the site. As such, I've brought the Taunt out early this week to salve the burning rash that is the curiosity of the participants both surviving and deceased.

Two of the eight, one quarter of the field, fell over the weekend at the hands of the Titans and Giants. Vegas Hall Pass and J-Ro, we bid you adieu.

There is one participant still active: El Doctor, who rides his Monday default pick (49ers) for the thirteenth week straight. The winning picks were: Bengals, Saints, Cards, Cards, and Falcons.

We come down the home stretch of the season. The $64,000 question remains: will we make the playoffs for the fourth straight season? All will known in time.

That is all.

Introducing . . .

. . . Ze German, a frothy, filthy, unfiltered 'Skins-lover bringing you weekly rants from his tapestry-laden castle high upon the Zugspitze peak. There is wisdom and method to his madness, however, so pay attention -- just look out for the women and children.

. . . The Holy Light, and the best of us, a beacon of strength, dignity, and truth, and shining where there is darkness. As it was in Ezekiel, his word is his bond and his name is the law, and he shall strike down those who dare not listen when he doth speak.

. . . The Hooded Fiend, brilliant, diabolical, devious -- the smartest man you've never met, and will never have the chance. Locked away in the dungeons below a nondescript building, we only bring the Fiend out to post when the situation is most dire.

. . . El Doctor, the tall, dark, hunky, and handsome resident surgeon of Suicide. Women love his strong hands, men respect his keen mind, and Swami requires his wicked wit, but no one understands his almost unholy passion for autos and linen pants.

. . . Man of Wench, that staunch fan of all things Philly and a fine specimen of masculinity, bold enough to tie the knot with the feisty, infamous Wench. Whether at the grill or at the bar, with a healthy glass of vino in his hand he'll bill you by the hour for a taste of his good times.

. . . Master of Macabre, a delightfully sinful and sinister purveyor of doom and gloom, keeper of all things dark and deathly. It is unsure what horrifies more: his spectral air, his cadaverous crypt, his Machiavellian machinations, or his penchant for Princess and the Frog.

. . . Shapeshifter, he of the ever-changing ways, ever-shifting forms, and everlasting enthusiasm. Our newest commentator brings forth pomp, verbosity, and circumstance on scale to rival even the Swami himself. Shifty, yes, and subtle when necessary, his form is never out of fashion.