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 10 Yard Derp

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Meatbag

Meatbag


Posts : 182
Join date : 2011-12-03
Location : Delta City

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PostSubject: 10 Yard Derp   10 Yard Derp Icon_minitimeMon Jan 02, 2012 7:25 pm

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The 10 Yard Lar Shit Kicking

Football. Not the biggest fan, but for gods sake, I WILL TRY.

This calls for some Queen.

As 'Princes Of The Universe' takes me away to a land of adventure, Christopher Lambert, and wicked guitar riffs, I duck my head, tuck my chin, and prepare to break some bodies in my quest for the almighty TOUCHDOOOWWWWNNNNN!!!

Here I am, born to be king, I'm the prince of the universe.

I'm given a choice of what difficulty of team to face. The choices are High School, College, Professional, Playoff, and

Super Bowl teams. I go with High School for starters (natch), and go from there.

HERE WE GO!

Whoah...

Seeing the intense graphical that the NES is capable of, I decide that this games visuals were created in two 8 hour shifts

over a weekend, by two retarded 3 year old chimps. I think that the Intellivision had some games with better graphics

than this, and that system was 4 bit.
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Suck on this, Xbox 360

Obviously, I have no idea how this sport works, because I'm baffled when the team I'm pitted against kicks the ball to me from across the field. But I know how to adapt quickly. With a smirk on my lips and an 'Okie dokie then' on the tip of my tongue, I charge forward... well, I guess up, technically. I'm surrounded by teammates who are there to watch my back. They surround me and run with me, in the grace and coordination that synchronized swimmers strive for.

I'm an unstoppable terror of the gridiron. I weave to the right, I weave to the left... wait... wait... okay, I slowly turn to the left instead. But I still have my team watching my back.

Within the next ten seconds, I find myself realizing that, like the aforementioned swimmers, my teammates are there for show. This occurs to me as the opposing team passes right through Team Lar and knocks my dick in the dirt.

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The one lying in the dirt, crying? Me.

I get distracted by a rerun of the final episode of the Montel Show, and decide that I'd rather watch a scrawny old guy with MS. And it was good, Montel rocks socks.

Back again, this time rocking out to 'Ghost Riders In The Sky', and I try once more.

Fuck yes! I get the ball and manoeuvre my ass all over the place, avoiding pixelate tacklers, making them eat shit as I run on by. I'm on a roll, and I make a slow turn to the left and run. A little too far, as it turns out, cuz I run out of bounds.

Once again, I wish I knew how this sport worked, other than the dogfighting... oh wait...

I keep getting cut off by the rival team, so instead I run backwards. Apparently this isn't a smart move, and they tackle my sorry ass once again.

I'm not sure what the hell a first down is, but it just happened.

Whatever, I still get the ball, and in a stunning display of Larsomeness, I get a touchdown! My pixilated counterpart celebrates by throwing his hands in the air and jumping wildly. It's a moment right out of those cruddy sports movies, I pulled out from near defeat to score a home run or whatever. My opponents show their dismay by throwing their hands in the air and jumping wildly. But angry.

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Touchdown! My one and only.

An arrow all of a sudden shows up in front of the goalpost and i get tackled again. What just happened?

Fuck this.

HOW FAR I MADE IT: 'Bout a minute and some change.


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