Rhino's Sports Pub and Bacon Bistro

(Editor’s note: Contributor Murder Killingfield may and/or may not have played for the Oakland Raiders from 1967-80 as a lineman.)

Today, there was a great disturbance in Raiders Nation, the most superior of all football nations. We lost a true deity and commander.

The call from Sistrunk came today at 6 p.m.

Otis Sistrunk is an old, loyal comrade, and one of the few I still remain in contact with from my time with the Oakland Raiders, team of the decades and the most awesome machine of destruction ever unleashed on a football field. That is truth and any mindless fool who would dare suggest otherwise will be hunted down by myself and face a gruesome punishment.

The architect of the most awesome machine of football destruction was Alibastor “Al” Davis, to many an evil sorcerer and renegade recluse who attempted to take down the NFL on multiple occasions, to me the most genius, authentic and righteous man alive.

Sistrunk’s call came as a surprise. I was surprisingly sober for this juncture of the day so the news would be unrelenting to my soul.

Alibastor Davis had passed away. I ran outside of my secluded compound here in the nether regions of Turkiye — once upon a time the home of my ancient ancestors for several millennia during the Ottoman Empire and now my approved native land — clenched my fists and screamed at the top of my lungs, “Noooooooooooooooo!”

The foliage around my feet blew away.

Frightened birds flew from the trees.

Small animals scattered in fear from their hideouts in the brush.

A brave — yet foolish — eurasian lynx darted toward me. It thought I would be its next meal. It was sadly mistaken. As the eurasian lynx lunged at me, I took my clenched fists and crushed its skull. That was dinner.

Living in the Turkish nether regions is not forgiving, and I apply much of what I learned from Alibastor Davis to survive in this merciless environment.

“You don’t adjust. You just dominate.”

Now I storm through the countryside with that same voracious appetite to devour victims, to feed on the weak, that decades ago served me so well as I became one of the greatest Raiders players in history.

“We’re going to take what we want. That’s Raider football.”

Tonight, I drink double the moonshine as my normal intake, in your honor Alibastor Davis, my old friend.

The Autumn wind is a (expletive) pirate (expletive)

(Expletive) Blustering in from (expletive) sea

With a (expletive) rollicking (expletive) song he (expletive) sweeps (expletive) along

(Expletive) Swaggering (expletive) boisterously.

Just win baby.