It could be that ole Hung was all jazzed on flat cammy cam juice. It could be, perhaps, that his jock was too loose. But I think that the most likely reason of all May have been that his balls were, perhaps, two sizes too small. But, Whatever the reason, His jock or his balls, He stood there on Sugar Bowl Eve, hating the VSers, Staring down from his cave with feeling sour and bored At the warm lighted monitors below on their board. For he knew every VSer down in The Swamp beneath Was busy now, reserving their flights and their seats. "And they're even buying tickets!" he snarled with a sneer. "Tomorrow is the Sugar Bowl! It's practically here!" 

Then he growled, with his Hung fingers nervously drumming, "I MUST find a way to keep this bowl game from coming!" For, tomorrow, he knew... ...All the VSer girls and boys Would wake up bright and early. They'd rush for their toys! And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! 

Swamp Lizard would be pounding his chest, about playing anyone for Sugar being the best.  Consig would be prattling the finah points of the game, and Bri - Yes ChiGatorBri, would jump on the train. That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! 

Then the VSers, the young and the old, would sit down to a chat. And they'd chat! And they'd chat! And they'd CHAT! CHAT! CHAT! CHAT! 

They would start on the restaurants and how they miss Charlie Strong!  They'd talk up the Jackson Square post-New Years throng!   They'd cheer regardless of the point spread till their gator throats were raw!  Which was something that stuck in that nasty Hung craw! 

And THEN They'd do something he liked least of all! Every VSer down in The Swamp, the tall and the small, Would stand close together, with Swamp Woman's tailgate food roasting. They'd sit hand to keyboard. And the VSers would start posting! They'd post! And they'd post! AND they'd POST! POST! POST! POST! 

And the more Hung thought of the Vser-Sugar Bowl postfest The more Hung thought, "I must stop this French Quarter mess! "Why for two or three weeks I've put up with it now! I MUST stop this match up from coming! ...But HOW?" 

Then he got an idea! An awful idea! Hung GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA! "I know just what to do!" Hung Laughed in his throat. And he made a quick  Will Muschamp cap and a coat. And he chuckled, and clucked, "What a great Hungary doom! "With this coat and this hat, I'll look just like Coach Boom!" 

"All I need is a gator..." Hung looked around. But since gators are scarce, there was none to be found. Did that stop the old Hung...? No! Hung simply said, "If I can't find a gator, I'll make one instead!" So he called Albert's Dog. Then he took some green thread And he tied some false teeth inside of his head. THEN He loaded some bags And some old empty sacks On a ramshakle vespa. And he hitched up old Albert's dog. Then Hung said, "Giddyap!" And the vespa started down Toward the homes where the VSers Lay a-snooze in their town. All their monitors were dark. Quiet snow filled the air. All the VSers were all dreaming sweet dreams without care When he came to the first house in the square. 

"This is stop number one," The old Fake Hung-Boom hissed And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist. Then he slid down the chimney. A rather tight pinch. But if Muschamp could do it, then so could Hung grinch.  He got stuck only once, for a moment or two. Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue Where the little Vser gator beads all hung in a row. 

"These fake mardi gras beads are the first things to go!" Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant, Around the Vser's board, and he took every present!  Jerseys! And socks!  Chicory! Drums! Checkerboards! Tricycles! Popcorn! And plums! And he stuffed them in bags. 

Then Hung, very nimbly, Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney! Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the VSers' feast! He took Aubie's famous pudding! He took Albert's bacon! He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a blurr. Why, that Hung even took DJ's last can of Ensure! 

Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee. "And NOW!" grinned Hung, "I will stuff up Coach Tony!" And Hung grabbed the Tony, and he started to shove When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove. He turned around fast, and he saw a small VSer!

 Little Sis VSer, who was not more than two. Hung had been caught by Lil Sis who'd got out of bed to give her dogs some fresh water. She stared at Hung and said, "Coach Hungary Boom, why, "Why are you taking our Coach Tony? WHY?" 

But, you know, that old Hung was so smart and so slick He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick! "Why, my sweet little tot," the fake Will Muschamp  lied, "There's hair on his chest that got waxed on one side. "So I'm taking him home to my workshop, my dear. "I'll plug the hair there. Then I'll bring him back here." 

And his fib fooled the prof. Then he patted her head And he got her a drink and he sent her to bed. And when Lil Sis VSer went to bed with her cup, HE went to the chimney and stuffed Tony up! Then the last thing he took Was the log for their fire. Then he went up the chimney himself, the old liar. On their walls he left nothing but hooks, and some wire. 

And the one speck of food That he left in the house Was a crumb that was even too small for the old version of Re-Volver. Then He did the same thing To the other VSers' houses Leaving crumbs Much too small For the other VSers' vols!

 It was quarter past dawn... All the VSers, still a-bed All the VSers, still a-snooze When he packed up his sled, Packed it up with their jerseys! The chicory! The beads! The tags! And the flags! The trimmings! The trappings! Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mount Crumpit, He rode to the tiptop to dump it! 

"Pooh-pooh to the VSers!" he was hungrily humming. "They're finding out now that no Louisville is coming! "They're just waking up! I know just what they'll do! "Their mouths will hang open a minute or two "The all the VSers down in The Swamp will all cry BOO-HOO!" "That's a noise," grinned Hung, "That I simply must hear!" 

So he paused. And Hung put a hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low. Then it started to grow... But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn't be so! But it WAS merry! VERY! He stared down at The Swamp! Hung popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise! Every VSer down in The Swamp, from SwampGas to Bimmer, Was posting! Without any Cardinal at all! He HADN'T stopped the Sugar Bowl from coming! IT CAME! Somehow or other, it came just the same! 

And Hung, with his hung-feet ice-cold in the snow, Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so? It came without jerseys! It came without beads! "It came without playoff teams rated by seeds!" And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore. Then Hung thought of something he hadn't before! "Maybe Bowl game excitement," he thought, "doesn't come from the spread. "Maybe Bowl Games...perhaps...are for good road trips instead!" 

 And what happened then...? Well...at The VS they say That Hung's small balls Grew three sizes that day! And the minute his jock didn't feel quite so loose, He whizzed with his load to undo his abuse. 

And he brought back the balls and the horns and the crumbs! And gave all the jerseys  back to the bums! He brought back Coach Tony! All waxed up and shining! And he... ...HE HIMSELF...! Hung stopped Sugar Bowl whining!