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Useless thread MMII: Eagles & Buckeyes championship appreciation thread

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Trouble in the Tropics​

We had barely set foot in Papua New Guinea when I saw a familiar figure waiting for us at the edge of the tarmac.

Hargrave.

Dressed in his usual cheap suit and with his perpetually exhausted expression, he stood next to a rickety airport jeep, arms crossed, glaring directly at Juan.

Juan, of course, was too busy unfolding his ‘Plushie Empire’ banner to notice.

Brenda sighed. “Oh great. What do you want now, Hargrave?”

Hargrave ignored her and strode toward Juan. “We need to talk. Now.”

Juan finally glanced up, grinning. “Agent Hargrave! You come to invest in the plushie business?”

Hargrave took a deep breath, clearly fighting the urge to strangle him. “Juan, this is serious.” He pulled a sealed envelope from his jacket. “This message came from the highest levels of government.”

Juan snatched the envelope and turned it over. “Ooooh, fancy. What is it? A medal for my service as North Korea’s ambassador to Japan?”

Hargrave’s eye twitched. “Just open it.”

Juan tore it open, pulled out a letter, and started reading aloud:

To Juan ‘General Freedom’ Price,
You are hereby summoned to an urgent diplomatic meeting in Washington, D.C. The matter at hand is of grave international importance and pertains to your recent activities across multiple nations. Failure to comply will result in—
Click to expand...
Juan stopped reading. “Blah blah blah, threats, legal mumbo jumbo… boring.”

Hargrave pinched the bridge of his nose. “Juan, this is serious. You’ve pissed off at least twelve world governments. They want answers.”

Juan waved the letter. “Yeah, but do they want plushies?”

Brenda slapped her forehead. “Juan, for once in your life, just listen.”

Juan thought for a moment. Then he folded the letter into a paper airplane and threw it.

Hargrave lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar. “I swear to God, Juan, I will personally drag you onto a plane back to D.C. if I have to.”

Juan grinned. “Alright, alright, I’ll go. But only if you buy a plushie first.”

Hargrave closed his eyes and muttered something that sounded a lot like a prayer for patience. Then, through gritted teeth, he pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.

Juan happily exchanged it for a plushie of a tiny, smiling Fidel Castro.

Brenda leaned over to me. “If Juan ends up testifying in front of Congress, I have to be there.”

I sighed. “We all do.”

And just like that, Papua New Guinea’s plushie empire was put on hold.

Next stop: Washington, D.C.
 
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General Freedom Goes to Washington​

I don’t know what I expected from Juan testifying before Congress, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

The chamber was packed. Government officials, foreign diplomats, intelligence officers—all of them staring at Juan as he sat at the witness table, legs kicked up like he was lounging in a beach chair.

Brenda leaned over to me. “I give it ten minutes before he says something that gets us all arrested.”

Hargrave, looking more miserable than ever, stood off to the side, probably questioning every life choice that led him here.

At the head of the room, a stern-faced senator cleared his throat. “Mr. Price, do you understand why you have been called here today?”

Juan nodded. “Of course, Senator. You all want in on the plushie business.”

The senator blinked. “No. No, we do not.”

Juan scoffed. “Alright, fine, but if you did want in, I could offer a premium investment package—”

Hargrave slammed his forehead into his palm.

The senator ignored Juan’s sales pitch and continued. “Mr. Price, in the past year alone, you have:

  • Declared yourself the North Korean ambassador to Japan.
  • Hijacked an expedition cruise ship in Antarctica.
  • Sold illegal lasagna in multiple countries.
  • Created an international incident in Russia with a plushie named the Snuggle Czar.
  • And, most recently, bribed an Algerian official with a stuffed camel named ‘Humpy McFreedom.’”
Juan nodded proudly. “You forgot my plushie casino in Vegas.”

The senator rubbed his temples. “Juan, do you understand that multiple world governments are demanding answers? Some are even threatening to classify you as a global security risk.”

Juan waved a hand. “Pffft, that just means I’m important.”

Brenda whispered, “He’s gonna get us blacklisted from the entire planet.”

I sighed. “I know.”

The senator sighed. “Let me ask you plainly: What exactly is your goal? What do you want?”

Juan grinned. “It’s simple, Senator. I want a world where every man, woman, and child can hug a plushie shaped like their favorite dictator.”

The entire room fell silent.

Hargrave actually groaned out loud.

Brenda started coughing to cover up her laughter.

The senator just stared at Juan like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You… you can’t be serious.”

Juan pulled out a Stalin plushie. “Look at this little guy! You telling me the world doesn’t need this?”

The senator massaged his temples again. “Mr. Price, I don’t think you understand how serious this is.”

Juan grinned wider. “And I don’t think you understand how soft and cuddly Stalin is.”

At this point, one of the foreign diplomats just walked out of the room.

The senator sighed deeply. “Alright. That’s enough. Mr. Price, we’ll be deliberating your… unique case.” He stood. “This hearing is adjourned.”

Juan jumped up, pumping a fist. “YES! That means I win, right?”

Hargrave grabbed his arm. “Let’s go before they change their minds.”

As we walked out, Brenda snorted. “That went better than I expected.”

I shook my head. “Juan’s either a genius or the luckiest idiot on the planet.”

Juan grinned. “Why not both?”

But before we could leave, Hargrave’s phone buzzed. He looked at the screen, and his face went pale.

Brenda noticed. “What? What is it?”

Hargrave swallowed hard. “I don’t know how, but… Putin just invited Juan back to Russia.”

Juan fist-pumped. “The Snuggle Czar lives!”

Brenda laughed. “Guess we’re going back to Russia.”

And just like that, we were on a plane once again.
 
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@John Price was thinking of @SoupNazi

IMG_3586.jpeg
 
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PanthersPens62 said:
Hood Morning @MetalheadPenguinsFan !!! :) Yes, its a sad day with the loss of the legend. Lange was the reason I fell in love with hockey when I was a kid. The best to ever do it. RIP Mike.
Click to expand...

His calls and Mario’s goals were the things that got me into Pens hockey when I was a young lad as well.

He truly was the best to ever grace an announcer’s booth, may he RIP.
 
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MetalheadPenguinsFan said:
His calls and Mario’s goals were the things that got me into Pens hockey when I was a young lad as well.

He truly was the best to ever grace an announcer’s booth, may he RIP.
Click to expand...
When I was a wee lad, the Pens still sucked but Mike Lange made listening to the games so enjoyable. It sucks that by the time I was able to get NHL Network and living in FL, those a-holes at Fox Sports Pittsburgh had already fired him. :( It would have been a dream to be able to hear him call games again. I'm just glad I have a second play by play man, Dougie P, who makes the radiocasts a must-listen. :yo:
 
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From Plushies to Prison​

The private jet touched down in Moscow, and as we disembarked, the icy Russian wind bit through our jackets. Juan, ever the optimist, clutched a plushie of Vladimir Putin dressed in a judo gi.

Brenda adjusted her scarf, eyeing the plushie. "You really think that's a good idea?"

Juan grinned. "It's a gesture of goodwill! Who wouldn't want a mini version of themselves?"

We were escorted to the Kremlin, where the grandeur of the palace did little to ease our nerves. In the opulent meeting room, President Putin awaited, his expression unreadable.

Juan stepped forward, presenting the plushie with a flourish. "Mr. President, in honor of our friendship, I present to you: Mini Putin!"

Putin took the plushie, examining it closely. His face remained stoic, but a vein in his temple pulsed. "This... is how you honor me?"

Juan's smile faltered. "It's a token of appreciation. See, it even has a little black belt!"

The room's temperature seemed to drop further as Putin's eyes narrowed. "You mock me with this... toy?"

Before Juan could respond, Putin gestured to his guards. "Take him."

Brenda gasped. "Wait! It was just a gift!"

But the guards were swift, seizing Juan and dragging him away.

Hours later, we learned Juan had been sentenced to life in a Siberian prison for "insulting the dignity of the Russian President."

Desperate, we reached out to anyone who could help. That's when President Donald Trump intervened.

Using back-channel communications, Trump negotiated tirelessly. After days of intense discussions, a deal was struck: Juan would be released in exchange for a Russian cybercriminal held in the U.S.

The news broke worldwide:

"Trump Secures Release of American Entrepreneur from Russian Prison"
Click to expand...
As Juan stepped off the plane onto American soil, he was greeted by President Trump himself.

Trump smirked. "Next time, maybe stick to plushies of me."

Juan laughed. "Noted."

And with that, our Russian adventure came to a close, leaving us with a newfound appreciation for the complexities of international diplomacy—and the dangers of poorly received gifts.
 
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The American Plushie Dream (Or Nightmare?)​

Juan, fresh off his narrow escape from a Siberian prison, declared that he was done with international diplomacy. "I’m keeping it simple," he announced. "No more foreign leaders. No more secret missions. Just good old-fashioned capitalism. The American plushie market is mine for the taking!"

Brenda and I exchanged a skeptical glance.

"So, what’s the plan?" I asked.

Juan grinned, flipping open a laptop. "We hit the biggest cities. Plushies on every corner. We go to Times Square, Hollywood Boulevard, the Vegas Strip—wherever people are willing to throw money at dumb souvenirs."

Brenda nodded. "Not the worst idea you've ever had."

Phase One: New York City—Immediate Disaster​

Juan set up his first plushie stand right in the heart of Times Square, wedged between an off-brand Elmo and a man screaming about the end of the world.

The plushies? A mix of his greatest hits:

  • Snuggle Czar Putin (banned in Russia)
  • Freedom Eagle Juan Jr.
  • Danny Devito in a tuxedo, holding a tiny lasagna
His first customer, a woman in a Statue of Liberty hat, picked up a Danny Devito plushie.

"This looks nothing like Danny DeVito," she scoffed.

Juan scoffed right back. "Madam, I’ll have you know that Mr. Devito himself endorsed this plushie!"

"Did I?"

A familiar voice rang out behind us.

Danny Devito.

The real, living, breathing, actual Danny Devito.

Brenda nearly choked on her coffee. "Holy hell."

Juan turned pale. "Mr. DeVito! My man! My muse! I, uh, was just telling this lovely lady about your undying support for—"

Danny grabbed the plushie and examined it. "Why do I look like a bloated potato wearing a tuxedo?"

Juan chuckled nervously. "Artistic interpretation?"

Danny tossed the plushie onto the sidewalk. "This is garbage."

And with that, Danny DeVito walked away forever.

Juan collapsed onto his plushie stand in defeat. "Okay. New York’s not my market."

Phase Two: Hollywood—The Police Get Involved​

Juan relocated to Hollywood Boulevard, setting up shop outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.

This lasted approximately twenty minutes before the LAPD showed up.

"You can’t sell unlicensed merchandise here," the officer said.

Juan grinned. "Officer, I assure you, nothing about my business is licensed."

"Exactly," the officer replied, slapping a citation onto the stand.

As Juan tried to argue, Brenda whispered, "Run."

We ran.

Phase Three: Las Vegas—Rock Bottom​

Desperate, Juan dragged us to Las Vegas, where he set up his plushie empire inside a gas station parking lot.

His new plushie concept? "Elvis, but a Raccoon."

It was going terribly.

Brenda sighed, watching Juan sulk next to a pile of unsold raccoon-Elvis plushies. "Maybe plushies just aren’t your thing, dude."

Juan groaned. "How is this failing? This country loves stupid stuff!"

At that moment, a man walked by, glanced at the plushies, and scoffed, "That’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen."

Juan looked up.

It was Guy Fieri.

Juan threw his hands up. "I give up!"

Back to Square One​

Beaten and broke, we sat at a Denny’s somewhere on the outskirts of Vegas, eating pancakes in silence.

"So," Brenda finally said, "What now?"

Juan stared at his coffee, deep in thought.

Then, his eyes lit up.

"We go bigger."

Brenda and I braced ourselves. "Bigger… how?"

Juan smirked.

"We’re going back to Washington, D.C."

Oh, God.
 
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