Match Game Story: Sarah Palin is so goddamn unqualified for anything, even her PhyEd teacher __ her

[Rabrrrrrr]

In honor of this week's debate, and Sarah's last performance on national TV before the Republicans tape her mouth shut for eternity.



Fill in the blank with ten or more words to make a story.

Make it funny. Make it grotesque. Do it as a Gilbert and Sullivan musical.

All up to you.

[Tuesday Afternoon]

1. Sarah Palin is so goddamn unqualified for anything

even her PhyEd teacher had serious doubts about her abilities to jump rope, thereby forcing poor Sarah to stay after class and practice and this is the true reason why Sarah named her child Track.

[SOteric]

2. What the heck, I'm waiting for print-outs.

Match Game Story: Sarah Palin is so goddamn unqualified for anything, even her PhyEd teacher Edwin Boxdorpher, on whom a young Sarah had a hopeless crush in her formative years, could not form an interest. Certainly there were outrageous bids for attention, as Sarah scurried up gym ropes sans panties, misbehaved in order to be kept after school, and even plucked, waxed, tinted and painted her way to beauty pageants. It was all for nothing.

But the last straw, the final cherry on the great, heaping banana rejection sundae came during the talent portion of her pageant entry.

As Sarah warbled and toned her way through a Puccini aria, most mistook her efforts for yodeling; all but one lone being fully able to appreciate the passion of Sarah’s talent. The astonishingly myopic Mable the Moose heard the angst in Sarah’s performance and took it for a moosey mating call. She appeared in the pageant hall, roused with passion and fully in heat, expecting to find her one true moose. What she found was Edwin Boxdorpher.

Yes as Mable brayed and rubbed against Edwin’s thigh he found in the moose the sensual heat he’d denied Sarah and the entire hall was treated to the sudden scandalous knowledge that Edwin, in his full glory, was hung like a moose.

Sarah stomped her foot in anger, running off the stage to find her hunting rifle. Meanwhile, Edwin, determined to save the life of Mable and have his perverted way with her, took to the hills.

Sarah tracked the lovestruck pair through the countryside in a haze of unladylike expletives, frothing at the mouth with jealousy. Finally, screeching with glee, she came upon them taking careful aim in the moonlight. The sharp report of that terrible weapon caused a wet rain of red and leathery flaps to slap against Sarah’s pinched little face, ruining her updo in spite of the heavy layer of shellac. Satisfied at last, Sarah flung wide her arms and cackled like a crazed Valkyrie into the cold night air as the gore coated her and everything within reach.

Alas, her joy was short-lived. In addition to their love for Edwin Boxdorpher, Sarah and Mable had one other thing in common: Sarah, too, was astonishingly myopic. It was not Mable her rifle had blasted to smithereens, but instead was the Volkswagen of one Henry Stanizewski, a roving ketchup salesman.

So incompetent, even vengeance was denied her.

[DS1]

3. I like it

:7

[SOteric]

4. Somewhere,

near a remote Alaskan village inhabited only by Inuit and Russian spies, Edwin and Mable live happily ever after.

:7

[Rabrrrrrr]

5. I love romance stories!

:cry:

:rofl:

That's awesome! You should join in every week.

I especially love "a wet rain of red and leathery flaps to slap against Sarah’s pinched little face, ruining her updo in spite of the heavy layer of shellac".

That, my friend, is the prose equivalent of duck stuffed with truffles under the skin.

[Tuesday Afternoon]

7. fucking brilliant

:wow: :rofl: :spray: :yourock:

[woo me with science]

9. Wonderful. nt

[Fire Walk With Me]

6. ...

Sarah Palin is so goddamn unqualified for anything, even her republican PhyEd teacher voted for her.

[DS1]

8. mehh

i can do better

[Rabrrrrrr]

10. Waiting...

patiently...

[Shiver]

11. Pure stream-of-consciousness... with some Corona

Sarah Palin is so goddamn unqualified for anything, even her PhyEd teacher was forced to admit that she was good for nothing other than looking hot in a pair of tight gym shorts, running around the track on a hot day, sweat drenching her tight cotton gym shirt as he chest heaved against it, breathing heavily.

The man was fired shortly afterwards for the remark - as well as increasing rumours about hidden cameras in the boys and girls showers - but everyone was forced to admit that there was a great deal of truth in the perverted man's statement. Sixteen years old, and young Sarah still could not read. She didn't know the alphabet, how to count, or even identify different shapes. Only the incredibly low standards of the Wasilla school district had gotten her into high school in the first place; most teachers just put her in the back of the room with an NRA manual to occupy her for the day.

Her new PhyEd teacher however, Ms. Lydia McMooseberger, was quite unwilling to give up on the girl. So convinced was she that Sarah could one day make something of herself, Ms. McMooseberger gave the young girl the highly-coveted position of point-guard on the school basketball team. To everyone's surprise, Sarah was reasonably skilled when it came to handling balls, deftly working it up and down the court to the amazement of the opposing teams.

So enamored with the ball was she, that she would literally bite in the neck anyone who tried to take it from her. This habit soon earned her the nickname 'Sarah Barracuda'.

During the basketball season, Sarah and Ms. McMooseberger's spare time was filled with trying to teach the young girl anything at all, with little progress. While she could count, she had to take off her shoes to make it to twenty-one; while she knew her letters, she put them in the wrong order. Ms. McMooseberger was very frustrated, but persevered.

Things changed, however, the day Sarah mistakenly entered herself into the Miss Wasilla beauty pageant, thinking it was a line for free caribou jerky.

"Name?" A bored-looking young man sitting at the registration table asked, not looking up from his copy of 'Snowmachine Magazine'.

"Sarah," she replied, quickly checking the words she had written on her hand in just such an emergency. Writing her name on a nearby clipboard and quickly scrawling it onto a nametag, the boy looked up at her for the first time.

Their eyes met, and all the blood rushed from the boy's brain. Todd Palin decided right then and there that this girl was going to win. It would be easy to fix - he was the only judge, after all.

Not long after, Sarah at in the seat of a new snowmachine, waving idiotically on the stage in front of the entire town, a crown on her head and a rifle in her hand. Behind her, ten far prettier girls stood, shooting the unknowing Sarah with angry glares. Sarah didn't know what she was doing up here, what exactly she had won, or why that creepy-looking boy was wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I have to get goin'," She told him, leaning in to be heard over the roar of the crowd of drunken hicks. "I'm supposed to learn how to read with Ms. McMooseberger, dontcha know?"

Todd snorted. "Readin'?" he scoffed, revving the snowmachine from behind her and peeling off the stage and into a snowdrift. "Stick with me, babe, and you won't need to know how to read."

Sarah smiled; that did sound a lot easier. Learning was hard. "You betcha!" she gasped happily, pointing. "Hey, look! A moose!"

"Shoot it!" Todd cried out. "Damn, I wish we had a helicopter..."

Raising the rifle in her arms, Sarah smiled as she looked through the scope at the soon-to-be-dead thing with antlers; things were startin' to look up for her.


There... I have no idea if it even makes any sense...

[Rabrrrrrr]

13. That's perfect! Exactly what we're looking for - a story.

Good job!!

Normally, we ask that the stories be filled with blood, horror, and stuff to make the soul shiver, but a regular story is also perfectly okay!

:thumbsup:

I hope you'll chime in every Wednesday when I post a new Match Game.

[Shiver]

14. I was going more for humourous absurdity

But I can do blood and horror. Fantasy, mystery, sci-fi... whatever ya want.

[Orsino]

12. Gilbert & Sullivan foresaw Palin.

"Pert as a school-girl well can be,
Filled to the brim with girlish glee....
Everything is a source of fun.
Nobody's safe, for we care for none!
Life is a joke that's just begun!"

G&S are like the Nostradamus of Fail.