I play hockey with balls, slap-shit. How many times do I gotta say it?
Not because I slap old folks, or even just fella' players, in the ballsers with my department store sticks (I am a child capitalist). I am a fool un-fooled by rules, you see. When the used-car dealerships close at dusk, for a fine-ish instance, I call upon my gang, my team of rivals (NO allusion intended; I hate history), to swarm around me in the cracked parking lots for an unfair game (I am a child capitalist). This game be deemed hockey balls, you know? You listening?
Fuck you if ya want me to explain how to play, because you must have an ugly jaundiced foot if you say that to me. I know it's true. Well, let me explain anyways, my foul footed un-friend, because maybe it'll persuade you to play. And I need players.
So here we go. You take a ball. Not a bouncy ball. Not a Playland ball. Fuck that; that shit's for softies like you. Just imagine a puck that bounces so it's got a higher percentage of knocking your teeth out, slap-shit-face. That's what the games all about. We (my team of rivals and I) be bouncing like basketballs with loopy sticks, trying to knock each other's teeth out.
Have I gotten my teeth knocked out? You dummy. This is the last bit of secret I'm gonna explain.
If I had got a tooth splatted by some stray ball, I'da be silent as a lil' Timmy over there. You see'm? With the big boob eyes and the black mouth? That's because there's nothing in it and because when I hit the ass-wipe his eyes nearly popped out of them sockets. If that happened to me, I'da not be able to put up with all your shit and explain this game. If you want to play, I'mma win because I'm a child capitalist. I told you this! Listen next time!