Friday, November 5, 2010

Disgraced Woodbat Legend Addicted to Rough Dirtslides




It was announced today that disgraced Woodbat Player and Ballhammer-Swinger Pooter Warmcabbage checked into Dripping Forehead Sexual Rehabilitation Center in St. Peter's Wood, George-Uh.

It was noted that throughout his career and home life, Pooter spent most of his days swimming in dirt and filth, and tilling the soil with his pam-pam.

Pooter's third ex-wife remembers a scene: "I remember coming home from the grocery store and seeing Pooter in the backyard in a pile of rubbish thrusting his ooger into a mound of dead leaves. When he saw me in the window, he just got up and pretended he was doing yardwork."

Pooter's sixteenth ex-wife, Shy'Nelle Hamdiggler, remembers another painful scene: "After our first week of marriage, I caught Pooter shoving handfulls of farm dust down the front of his trousers. He was grunting and growling and calling out to the Spirit of Filth. It was awful."

We also spoke to Pooter's mother, who had some insight into Pooter's career as a Ballhammer-Swinger: "I remember when Pooter was little, he used to say he wanted to be a dirt-man. I used to say 'Honey, there's no such thing as a dirt-man.' I used to tell him if he liked dirt, he could be a grave digger, a construction worker, or a Woodbat World-Star Beefhunk. Naturally, he chose the latter option."

Pooter's descent into public depravity came to a bulbous head in the Summer of 1976 when he pulled out his jammer during a game and stuck it deep into the earth while doing a belly-skid into third pad. He screamed out in wild ecstasy. Then, seconds later, he appeared to come back to reality. Pooter then slwoly slunked back into the man-bunker in shame as thousands of fans cried and screamed to Jesus' name in mercy.

The next day his coach expelled him from the team, claiming that "Woodbat is for Jesus-Men. Not Dirt-Boys. Not fucking Dirt-Boys."

Since then, it has been said by friends and colleagues that Pooter would take off his body cloths and swim around like a hungry serpent or a redworm in river banks and cemetaries, looking for the softest spot in the land to sink his hamrod.

Now, 20 years after his expulsion from Woodbat World-Star Beefhunk Champion-Game, we've caught up with Pooter Warmcabbage and asked him for comment.

"I'm going through a rough time right now. My life-coach says I have to stay away from moist, hot landscaping. They put electric razor chains across the soft-dirt garden outside my window. I think I'm going to slit the guards throat tonight and try to escape from this place."

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