After we last saw our merry band of heroes early this year… the Colonel went Mad.  Deranged, bat shit crazy, lunacy inducing, mouth frothing, raging Mad. 

“It has been many years since I last won a title”

“I will hear no more of my suckage, of my drafting ineptitude and trading impotence from these degenerate, gambling, infidels!  This will stand no longer!”

He tied the Broham to a tree, jailed Doug and Schottsie in his underground lair, kidnapped the Minister of Defense…. and LOCKED all the GMs in the land OUT of his glorious Kentucky Fried Game!  

With the M.O.D. in tow, he ran off to his dark grimy fortress on lunatic hill.

There, inside.  He hid. 

As the summer grew and shone and left, his delusions were left to fester.

“I alone am best!  I alone will win!”

His beard grew long and the sleepless nights from his rattled mind dotted his bulgy eyes with creepy red pellets.    His cheeks scabbed and his balding scalp wilted.  His unbearable ugliness increased by a factor of a HUNDRED THOUSAND!

For months the Minister of Defense subsisted on only carrots and string cheese.   The nefarious Colonel restricted not only his food intake but alas, the very essence of the MoD’s being!  Internet access was limited to five glorious minutes a day, and even then the Colonel only let him navigate on the Facebook, to the eternal anguish of the M.O.D.   

But through months of mental and dietary torture, deprived of any news from his family or friends or the world at large, our dear Minister held fast:

“We will have a revolution”

“The Kentucky Fried Peoples will come for me.  When the NBA preseason comes they will ask about my whereabouts.   They will find you, Colonel, and they will free me.”

But summer turned to Fall and the days grew shorter, very slowly, over many months, and yet the NBA Preseason never came.

The eternal standoff between the recalcitrant Colonel and the unyielding MOD led to an impossible stalemate and a large blanket of nothingness slowly enveloped the Kentucky Fried land. L

After months of Kentucky Fried inactivity the sounds of silence grew strong.  The GM’s of the Kentucky Fried land started to ask questions.    Will there be a season?  Why can’t I trade keepers?

Ciwasko and Mrobison sniffed something amiss.  They followed the scent of a trail of renegade football spreads and landed upon the Schottsie.  And Doug.  And they soon led to the Broham.   Who in turn showed them the whereabouts of the Colonel’s secret lair.

They quickly tricked the demented Colonel into releasing the MOD with a bag of Doritos and a Coca-Cola.

“I alone will win the Coca Cola!  I will not trade you dear Doritos!  Yummy!”

But months of depravation had weakened the Minister of Defense.  His arthritic hands could hardly type.

“I can only bring a few leagues up at a time.”

“Perhaps there are some that are almost filled and the GMS can fill them and then we can draft those first”

“I see that the Greatest Show, the Johnnie Walker, the Travishamockery and the Crazy 88s are only a few teams away from being made whole”

“If they were full, we could start drafting towards the end of next week!  We should be able to beat the NBA season for sure.”

Will the GMs of the Kentucky Fried land heed his weakened, beckoning call?

http://kfba.net/kfba/

To be continued…