Of Backgammon and Men

A few miles south of Philly, the Schuylkill river drops in close to the polluted city and runs filthy and green.

Is it really south of Philly, or are we lying? You know you want to Mapquest it now, you sheep.

10 points to anyone who comments the coordinates of the river.

Good luck on that.

The water is greasy, too, for it has slipped twinkling over the grey sands in the shadows before reaching the nasty ocean.

It sounds a lot like the Limpopo...

JEFF! SHUT UP ABOUT THE SHOW!

That was Kelly in my head.

The river has a certain mystique, an air of grandeur that came not from the great, grey, green, and greasy ripples ignited by the heavily flitting insect denizens, but by one lone boy, floating down it in an inner tube.

"JEFF! Jeff, for God' sakes, don't drink so much. It's disgusting water."

As sudden as the lightning strikes the earth, a backgammon set flew down from the clouds, fully prepared, and smashed Jeff's head into the sand.

"That's violent," said Maeve.

"If it was violent, then several robot assassins with gory guns would pop out of nowhere and zap us into bones, naturally!" Jeff retorted, spitting out the disgusting sand.

"Would the guns be gory because they have gore on them, or because they create gory situation?" inquired Maeve strenuously.

". . ." Jeff wasn't sure how he managed to make that sound, but it worked out almost loquaciously.

Maeve felt a lackadaisical urge to play Backgammon, even though she had no rules with which to play.

"Which which/witch?" Jeff asked incredulously.

"Sometimes my fleet fingers fail," Maeve fabricated frivolously.

"Pleeeeease be my friend on the facebooooooooooooook! And I'll be looking at you, when you don't even knoooooooooooooooow!" Jeff advocated obnoxiously.

"No," said Maeve abnormally.

"That's it. We're THROUGH! Pack up your things, Lennie, I'm taking the book, and I'm off to see the wizard! I need to kill Dorothy before she kills the witch. After all, Elphaba's cool in reality. :-)" Jeff smirked smackily.

"Go smirk to yourself, then," Maeve mumbled exuberantly.

"Don't talk to me like that! I have friends in high places! Look up and SEE THE MONKEYS!" As Jeff pointed up, thousands of his "friends in high places" became "friends in low places."

"I can't help myself," Maeve exclaimed as she befriended the monkeys with bananas.

"I can't let you do that," Jeff remarked as he zombified all the monkeys into demonic sorcerers.

I xN'T LET YOU CSOT THAT EITHER, MAEVE SAITD AS SHE DEC

Rose Colored Glasses of a Sam-Esque Tennis Player

His glasses were rose,
No onions to pose.

Though he appeared to be Sam,
He was entirely of jam.

His hair was jet black,
Almost like a night where it is black.

On the courts, he was a star!
Moonlighting working at a bar.

The racket in his hands,
Reminded me of Egyptian sands.

He almost always missed,
Except when he didn't.