Re: (TFT) Sports stuff

["Jay Carlisle" <Jay_Carlisle@charter.net>]

> What's b?

Short answer is that it's a symbol.
It's a symbol of my staggeringly vast capacity for ineptitude in much the 
same way that people a skined alive as symbols in the hell where people are 
skined alive as symbols.

Did you know that the guy who wrote Buckeroo Banzai wrote Big Trouble In 
Little China?
Aparently Lo Pan was the leader of the World Crime League.

"A trucker, wearing a ball cap and sunglasses, walks out of the station 
eating a huge submarine sandwich. He's got a saddlebag slung over his 
shoulder. He glances at the Jet Car, and Buckaroo motions to him.

BUCKAROO: Excuse me, sir. Do you know who that truck over there belongs to?

TRUCKER: Jack Burton . . . Me.

BUCKAROO: Well, Mr. Burton, we need to get this car to Holland Township, New 
Jersey as quickly as possible. If you'd be willing to tow us with your rig, 
we'd be glad to compensate you.

JACK BURTON: That won't be necessary, Dr. Banzai.

Jack turns sideways so that they can all see the Blue Blaze Irregular patch 
on the shoulder of his jacket.

JACK BURTON: You pay for the speeding tickets and I'll have you back at the 
Institute in an hour, tops.

BUCKAROO:Thank you, Mr. Burton.

JACK BURTON: Call me Jack.

BUCKAROO: Buckaroo. (shaking his hand) Say Jack, mind if I have half your 
sandwich there? I'm starving. Skipped breakfast.

JACK: (handing him the sub) Knock yourself out, Buckaroo. (to the others) 
Reno, Rawhide, Sid, if you fellas push her around in back of the 'ole 
Porkchop Express there, I'll hitch ya on.

They are all a bit stunned and impressed that he knows their names. They 
start pushing, and Tommy smiles and hops back behind the wheel to steer. 
Buckaroo lays into the sandwich like he hasn't eaten all day (which he 
hasn't) and his taste buds are immediately on fire. He drops the sandwich 
and begins fanning his mouth.

JACK: Chinese pepper-steak. Packs a wallop, don't it?

New Jersey hands Buckaroo a canteen, which he empties. New Jersey motions to 
the saddlebags slung over Burton's shoulders.

NEW JERSEY: Like your saddlebags.

JACK: Thanks. Real leather."


Wherever you go, there you are... again.
b!! 
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