It Is Coming

Minions of the non-elite,

The breadth and purity of your fantasy incompetence is unparalleled and will be studied by scientists in biometrically-secured laboratories for generations to come. Your collective mediocrity is a disgrace to the ancient Chinese art of fantasy football and an embarrassment to the word competition. Your teams smell of musky leather and dried squirrel taint. The players upon which your fantasy aspirations are founded are mere mirages of athletic adequacy and will repay your ineptness in anxiety and indigestion.

So let my* forthcoming championship not surprise you, but inspire you to attempt another season of inevitable disappointment and unmitigated heartache. For it is coming, and it will be painful. And you will all feel the wrath of my* supremacy and ire of my* prophecy when they coalesce in a symphony of innate ability and incomparable vision in next week's super bowl.

Sleep tight bitches,
The God

*See disclaimer in previous post: "You Probably Don’t Want To Read This"