Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls, children of all ages...Brolympics IV is proud to present, your TWENTY-THIRTEEN STARTING LINEUPS!!!
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From the BACK to BACK to BACK Champeeeons of the world....
Team Blue
- Call him Mark Morrison, because he's the Return of the Mac; Owner of the Charles Barkley line of upscale basketball Jerseys; This unorthodox bowling wizard hails from the extreme western portion of the Commonwealth; his vehicles have more miles on them then Lindsay Lohan's groin; he'll recite all the Division I mascots while giving you five different ways to get to where you're going, part
Terminator Johnny Five part Rand McNally, this dude's not human! He comes out of the closet once a year for this, so let's hear it for:
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Excuse me holmes? What it is, bro? His Brolympic team is the only bright spot in a dismal sports year; a newborn has not stopped him from booting his wife and kids to make room for the Brolympic festivities; he's currently sending a personal "forget me not" to Charley Manuel, and spends his free time giving Jager Bombs to his Bo Jackson and Mike Schmidt Starting Lineup figures in hopes that they'll get buzzed enough to play "just the tip" and accidentally reproduce. He's about 3 feet too tall for his dream job, Las Vegas slapper; and he'll turn a sure out into a guaranteed home run faster than you can scream "Inky!", let's hear it for our doctor of the faceplant:
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- Suckin' on chili dogs outside the tastee freeze... this Craigslist aficionado is pro Cornhole, and anti Croquet...in fact, you may call him an anticroquite. He's got Rosegarden in his blood and is skilled at on court dental procedures; he's sporting wood 24/7 thinking about the Cane's, and will destroy all competition at Double Dribble(with his eyes closed). He's on his 13th copy of Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, due to wearing out the scenes with Dan Marino. Kids? Who needs them, he claimed his PS3 as a dependent on his last tax return. A master of video football game clock management via the widely unheard of "run and run" offensive philosophy, as well as a vast saver of insurance premiums, let's hear it for:
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- Our next athlete is back after a brutal jack-o-latern-like injury sustained at last years games. Sticking to his preferred diet of Slim Jims and Cheese-Its, he strenuously rehabbed at the world renown Epcot Center, where he recited "It's a Small World" forward and back until he had fully healed. With revenge on his mind, he will do his best to pretend that the runner ups were the actual cause of his injury. When you hear Enter Sandman you know it's game over, as he frequently slams the door shut for the Champs in the NES Challenge; he'll give you a flying elbow from the top couch if you pass out too early; all he's asking is for you to
Mind Your Manners, so protect your Yam Baggins and let's give it up for:
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- This devourer of planets has ended events in the blink of an eye, he's crocheted sweaters for lady friends made only of the worms from tequila bottles; he asks the Challengers, "
What will break first...your spirit or your body?", he bleeds black and gold...and probably red, but you'll never see it as long as you're breathing; he's not a player- he just crushes a lot; and Liverpool isn't some weird organ filled swimming hole, it actually means something to him, HE'S the one who knocks, so lets hear it for our official driveway firebomber:
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Now
onto our challengers, the perpetual runner ups...but don't feel bad for
them, because like number two, they're the shit...Introducing:
Team
Army
- Slaying animals like it's his job, single handily keeping the tobacco industry recession proof, he'll toss half a tree on the bonfire for shits and giggles; a connoisseur of the finer things, like consuming Busch Light from a thermos, he has a masters degree in tolerance and keeping his cool; Nike is currently developing 40-bomb Airs- a new steel-toed basketball boot for him; prone to disappear, he'll need micro-chipped like a rescue dog; he'll be dropping ringers like feces bombs; don't waste your prop bet- he's vomit proof, let's hear it for:
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- Much like
Serpentor, this athlete's legs were created from a combination of DNA, only his gene pool was slightly less favorable. Where Serpentor was cultivated from the likes of Attila the Hun, Alexander the Great, Ivan the
Terrible, Julius Caesar, Genghis Khan, etc., this Brolympian was dealt the hand of the non-smoke monster version of
John Locke (spoiler alert),
Joe the cop from Family guy and Forrest Gump's discarded
leg braces. A picture of health, he's fighting vertigo like a Golden Girl, and waiting for gay marriage to become legal in PA so he can officially propose to Patrice Bergeron. Be careful what you do, as he may design a t-shirt or an entire internet post about you, let's give it up for:
ERROR...ERROR UNREALISTIC IMAGE.....
APPROVED IMAGE
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- This Jeep driving SOB's blood pressure is hovering around negative something, dude might not even have a pulse, in fact he might be one of those Walking Dead zombies, one with an absurd knowledge of the Saskatchewan Roughriders Grey Cup chances. He'll need to make some "
Humangous Big" saves for Team Army to compete in Hockey. He recently launched a kickstarter campaign for the mass production of adult size Adirondack Phantoms footed pajamas (with trap door). A deucing ninja, he'll drop four or five kids off at the pool before anyone even knows he's missing; He'll quietly score major points in bowling and cornhole, before finishing you off with a Blades of Steel closer, get off your fannies for:
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- Movin' to the country, going to eat himself a lot of peaches; this repeat Joose offender and prolific commentator will share his thoughts on just about anything- from fantasy picks to musical selections; Master of the funnel, he's not afraid to relax his esophagus to take it all in. His shirt comes off faster than a girls gone wild production; added to the TSA watch list after a brief x-ray of last years carry-on luggage, this southern residing, "Bodies" signing, butterfly kissing, utility athlete will leave it all on the field... and some of it off of it. If you want to destroy his sweater, just take one hair and he'll walk away; Give a warm Brolympic welcome to our resident karaoke singing optometrist:
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- He's the five hour energy drink of Team Army, this Brolympian wishes Friday's golf event was for keeps; He patterns his tennis game after Arthur Ashe...minus the crippling AIDS, he's been banned from the restrooms of prominent world leaders as well as local & state run porta-johns due to an explosive past reputation; President of the Ron Hextal fan club, he made nipple hole shirts the slap bracelet fad equivelant of the mid 90's; giving his testes some botex is his only Christmas wish (
smooth as eggs); a not so recent graduate of The Rock, do you smell what he's cooking? Let's hear it for :
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One more time, lets give it up for all our exceptional athletes!
