Last night, in a spirited yet demoralizing floor hockey match, The Jesus Cobras fell by a score of 4-3 to The Bomb Squad. The Bomb Squad was a team characterized by crisp, white t-shirts and headbands that were worn without a trace of irony. They had one dirty player, and one player who looked like a pop star from the 1980’s. The dirty player was named Kat, and she must have been at least six foot two. She was all elbows and knees, that one, and there was a look in her eyes that suggested her mother loved her sister more than her, a resentment that Kat would never get over.
The 1980’s pop star proudly wore a ‘C’ on his jersey. It’s likely that he ran for student council back in high school. He liked to dart about in circles, making fancy deke moves around our graphic designer and food critic defenders. Whenever he took a shot that our antique collector goaltender would save, he’d yell out, “Damn, we can’t get anything by him! I normally score five or six goals a game, and tonight I only have two!” And then he would run off, a stream of self-importance trailing after him like a gaseous emission. He was kind of shaped like a pear.
The Jesus Cobras count Spike Jonzes amongst their supporters.