Let the Halibut Tomfoolery, I Mean Trashtalk, Begin

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, bruthahs 'n' sistahs.

J-Dog here, His Stone Cold Baadness, The Original Gangsta, The Mack Daddy, The Freaky Gangbanga. Firin' up the ride for the Fish and gettin' large.

And I got somethin' to say to all y'all baeioutches out there: Keep yo' uncle***in' **** offa my Halibut Trophyea, or I'll **** your sorry *** up wit' a quickness. And I don't want to see y'all comin' around, puttin' your feet on it, neither. Or puttin' your ********* disc golf disc on it and leaving them ****ed-up rings all upside the wood and shit.

'Cause I got my fly bro Dustin on my squad. Check it - he the dope handler and my stoopid-fresh f'teen-goal scorin' machine.

I swear, if I see any of y'all within three feet of our endzone, our gal Karen Jay-Z'll put a Lee Van Cleef on your baeioutch ****. Gettit?

We'll just be trying to keep it real, know what I'm sayin'? I wanna stop the baggelling before it starts, specially wi't dem Townsville-side punks. I could say nothin' and wait in the shadows like some uncle****in' ninja, and when some punk-ass Truter come along and start readin' my "Attitude Is A Little Thing That Makes A Big Difference" Successories shirt, I could jump out and knock the sucka's teeth the **** out. 'Cause that would be my right. A man's gotta protect what's his, right?

You wanna know what I's and my team's is like? Take what happened just last week at tho BPL. Phat Matty Boev, this li'l ****-*** ho from de Lovers posse, be runnin' his *** around the pitch, layin' out wit' a goddamn smiley face. I'm like, "Whus this smiley-face **** y'all be puttin' on my pitch?" And he's like, "Man I love spirit of the game yup!"

Now, de friends of Buzz and Flan (the Cripps) don't take ***** from nobody, and I sure as hell don't take none from some university student, so I picks up my disc and do some crazy kung-fu ***** on his. "Flag yo' ******-**-***** outta ******* * ** here."

And that's what you'll be gettin' at the Halibut. An' big props to our main ladies Tegan and Rena for sortin' all the TD ****.

J-Dog out. And to all my homies in the Can and the bruthahs kickin' it down and comin' up from Syd (I thinkin' of yo, Nadine-honey), keep ya heads up. Peace.

*yes, I'm being silly