Swami's NFL Pool 2018: Thursday Taunt V

October 10, 2013

Thursday Taunt V

You knew he was coming. You could sense it in the air last week, you could feel it in your very bones. He's been waiting, waiting, waiting . . .

And in "V", he struck.

Twenty-five souls perished in their entirety this past week, Week the Fifth. It's interesting, the history of Week Five in Suicide lore. Relatively tame last year, in previous seasons prior it has long been associated with the end of days for many, many participants. Massive upsets, mangled dreams, etc.

'Twas again in 2013. The Dirty Birds were so very dirty.

Week Five Stats
42 undefeated at 5-0
76 with one loss at 4-1
64 losers in Week Five
42 utterly deceased
25 following the Reaper

As far as you know, the Update delay is simply because I did not want to rub salt in the wound, allowing some time to pass, allowing some healing. There was much grief and much devastation in Week Five, and while Swami himself was victim, chaos always tickles my fancy.

And fanciful I was in Week Five.

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.