n the midst of one of the most embarrassing seasons in baseball history, the lowly Kansas City Royals saved some face this week, defeating the defending champions from Willemstad, Curacao in a stunning upset to claim their first Little League World Series title.

Kansas City took the game 7-6 on first baseman Matt Stairs’ takeout of Curacao catcher Willie Rifaela during a collision at the plate in the bottom of the 11th inning. Rifaela held onto the ball, but Stairs was ruled safe since Rifaela flew off the playing field at the moment of impact.

“Willie gave it a hell of an effort,� praised Curacao manager Vernon Isabella. “Especially considering he was outweighed by nearly 200 pounds in the collision. If he hadn’t come out of his shoes like that when the American hit him, I think we could have held on to win the game.�

Kansas City immediately basked in the sweetness of the victory, a rare experience for Royals players this season.

“In your face, Billy!� screamed Royals reliever Mike MacDougal, shoving a young boy’s cap down over his eyes.

Kansas City catcher John Buck credited his team’s success with the fact that the Curacao pitchers were too young to throw curveballs yet. Largely thanks to the elusive curve, Buck is hitting .220 this season against adult competition.

After finishing off baseball’s longest losing streak in 17 years, Kansas City manager Buddy Bell thought it would be a good idea to boost his team’s confidence by taking a break from their regular schedule to face some less-challenging competition. After making a few calls, Bell was able to enlist the AAA Topeka Ding Dogs to fill in on Kansas City’s recent road trip through Boston and New York.

“Nobody even noticed,� sniffed third baseman Mark Teahen. “I’d take that as an insult if I wasn’t so high off of spanking those little Curacan punks.�

Bell was then able to buy off the North American finalists from Ewa Beach in West Oahu with a case of PSP gaming consoles and a pornographic magazine, allowing the Royals to enter the title game in their stead.

For the first several innings it looked like even this game might not go Kansas City’s way, as 11-year-old Curacao pitcher Cookie DelRay dazzled the Royals hitters with his 67-mile-an-hour fastball and a changeup that failed to register on the radar gun.

“That kid was throwing BBs,� complimented a humbled Angel Berroa. “He also hid the ball really well for someone four feet tall.�

But the Royals stuck to their plan of exploiting their size advantage and the fact that the regulation Little League field is quite a bit smaller than major league standards.

“Come back when you got hair on your balls, little man!� gloated Royals outfielder Ruben Gotay, after drawing a walk and stealing all three bases to score in the sixth inning, thanks to the regulation field’s 60-foot base paths.

“You can’t touch this heat, little bitch!� bragged a proud D.J. Carrasco, after striking out 10-year-old Jurickson Profar of Curacao on a pitch many felt was inside.

After Rifaela was fished out of a nearby tree and carted off the field, the Royals were presented with their Little League World Champions trophy and coupons for sundaes at a local Baskin Robbins.

“I think this really could be the turning point for our season,� announced a wistful Terrence Long, high off the thrill of dominating elementary-school competition.

Kansas City returned to the majors on Monday, losing five of their next seven games.

he world sighed a mournful "Oh" upon hearing of the death of Chief Justice William Rehnquist, who led the U.S. Supreme Court for 19 years and formed the holy conservative trinity of the court. Rehnquist is the second justice to retire from the Supreme Court this year, and never to be outdone, Rehnquist chose the more dramatic exit method of death in office.


The Chief Justice announced his diagnosis of thyroid cancer last year and his refusal to retire from the Supreme Court, angering liberals and conservatives alike by his reluctance to make the playing field more interesting. Never one to quit, Rehnquist had suffered greatly in recent months from radiation for his cancer treatment and a tracheotomy, actually performed by an over-anxious boyscout on a visit to the nation's capitol.

Rehnquist began his tenure on the Court in 1972, when appointed by then-president Richard Nixon, marking Nixon's 29th consecutive mistake. The conservative judge and States' rights supporter was appointed Chief Justice in 1986 by affable cowboy/leader of the free world Ronald Reagan. Among the Chief Justice's more interesting cases were a 2003 ruling that marriage is gay and the 1987 case of Clancy Vs. A Load of Bus Passengers, finalizing once and for all that the smeller is the dealer. Queer eyes everywhere also turned toward the nation's capitol at the Chief Justice's self-designed stylish robe in the President Clinton impeachment hearing.

Only months ago, the doddering Chief Justice, in failing health, vowed to persevere and continue his onslaught on pro-choice groups and anti-death-penalty fanatics for as long as his health permitted. That's over now, natch.

"I see no reason to retire while I am still in full possession of my faculties," said the Chief Justice in July, after having every bone in his body replaced with stronger and more flexible corrugated cardboard. "I look forward to hearing cases in the next session on the vital issues of today, such as whether cats would win in a fight against dogs, who exactly is the new king of pop, and why my car keys always end up in places I never put them." Rehnquist then promptly fell down the steps, necessitating the reattachment of his head to his body by skilled surgeons.

While the world mourned and the other half pretended to mourn the loss of a great legal figure, others got over their grief quick enough to speculate on the future of the Supreme Court. With two justices to replace before the next session, will the Bush administration bow to opposition pressure to select a moderate and keep the balance, or mere slight imbalance the current court has possessed? Or will the president follow the predictable course of going apeshit with his extremist political ideology and appoint some real nutjobs?

White House Press Secretary Ari Fleischer, inventor of Fleischer's brand peanut butter snacks, played the cards close to the vest while dealing from the bottom of the deck.

"It's too soon to talk about such things in the wake of a loss of a truly messianic-like figure," said Fleischer, smirking irrepressibly. "Besides, who says the Chief Justice is retiring? Chief Justice Rehnquist was a remarkable man, who continued to work despite his many ailments and being, like, ten million years old. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if when the new court session starts we just cart the Chief's remains in there and continue his long tradition of doing whatever Scalia and Thomas do."

Nor would we be surprised, but the commune at least hopes the Supreme Court quarters are well-ventilated.

I'm not that big a fan of talking. I don't know what the big deal is. It seems like it's basically impossible to find a girl to date who isn't constantly nagging you about that. "What do you want to eat? What are you thinking about? Why did you put my dog in that Ziplock bag?" I swear, if I wanted to be interviewed I'd show up at the airport with lit fuses sticking out of my shoes. I'm just trying to live my life here, not run around in some kind of non-stop monologue nightmare.

It's not just girls, either, there's all kinds of social situations where people just won't let you shut up. You go into a restaurant, and right away, somebody's asking you what you want. And even if you point politely at the menu they still won't leave you alone, they've got to ask for some kind of verbal confirmation. What are you, retarded? I pointed at the duck nuggets, didn't I? You think I'm the kind of person who silently points at food he doesn't want? Think again.

That's why I started eating at fast food places exclusively. It's way easier to gesture your way through a meal there since they've usually got the menu in big pictures over the cash registers. But some of those geniuses have a hard time following an imaginary line from your fingertip to the menu, everything's all "Oh, you want Big Mac?" Even at the Chinese place, weird as shit. And you wouldn't believe the trouble you can get into if you decide to make it easy for them and just reach over to press the cash register buttons yourself. It's like they think you need a degree in nuclear physics to run the thing. I've seen them press the "Slow Loris" button enough times, I know where it is. If you want to have a one-sided argument with me about it, I guess that's just your prerogative.

Nobody's worse about the "no talking" thing that people who call on the phone. Jesus. I don't know where these people come from. If you're going to contact me over a non-visual medium, at least have the courtesy to learn your Morse code, people. I'm willing to meet you half-way in the auditory department, and you're just shitting all over my diplomacy with your "Hello? HELLO?? Is there anybody there? I don't know, it's just this weird tapping noise. I think my phone's fucked up."

As you can imagine, I flunked speech class in college. I thought I could Pictionary my way through it, but my professor was a hard-ass about the talking part. And the rest of the class were horrible guessers anyway. A cow? If you people can't tell the difference between a horse and a cow, remind me never to accept a barbecue invitation over at any of your houses, all right? That was a hard year, both semesters. Eventually I got the requirement waived after arguing (in pictures) that speech class was an illogical requirement for a culinary arts degree.

Of course, that was before I discovered the cruel reality of the world, that nobody wants to hire a chef who doesn't talk. Talk about your discrimination, you're lucky if you can even get past the first interview.

I don't even want to get into the time I was asked to speak at my dad's funeral. There are still a lot of family members who haven't forgiven me for that Mexican standoff or the way the funeral home closed with all of us still in there. I've had half a mind to tell them all off, but they're even worse at Pictionary than my college class was.

But I've said too much already.

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