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Holly comes over to begin the 96-Hour Hate right: by engaging in redneck death threats with us. (She had the misfortune of attending the University of Tennessee and rooting for its despicable, shitty football team.) Enjoy. Play the David Cross for appropriate soundtrackage.

MP3 File

OS: Torture, motherfucker. Go

Holly: I will fasten you to the front of a train leaving Chicago at 55 mph at noon heading towards another train leaving Boston at 75 mph at 3 PM.

Try and resist its call, Vol fan.

OS: I will hand you a packet of silica gel that does not say "DO NOT EAT." You will then eat it because these are irresistable to people.

Holly: I will send you quail hunting with Anthony Morelli. And employ you as Michael Henig's Lovely Assistant during his twilight career as a traveling magician.

OS: I will give you a tapeworm and transfer your job to a town without buffet-style family eateries.

Holly: AAAAAHHH I WAS JUST TYPING THIS: "All I have so far is "I will chain you to the door of a crowded Golden Corral, stick my head in the door, and yell "SOMEBODY'S KEYIN' A TRUCK!"

OS: I will spray you with Aramis, give you a Widespread Panic haircut, and throw you in a pit filled with emo boys with straight razors.

OS: I will leave you in a bar where they only serve European cordials.

OS: I will set you up on a blind date with Andy Dick.

OS: I will make you the cue card holder on James Brooks live. (auburn joke! he can't read!)

Holly: I will make you a Louisville cheerleader (do they do pushups for points?)

OS: Yes they do. But the joke's on you! My pecs could use the work.

OS:: I will buy you season tickets to Syracuse football.


OS: I will die and leave you a large sum of money and an island in the Carribbean...and make it contingent on you attending Syracuse football games for the next decade. All of them.

Holly: [sputter]

OS: You will not get that money

OS: Although an argument could be made that that's not football.

Holly: True.

Oh, we hate, hate, hate you.

OS: I will force you to watch all of Peyton Manning's victories against Florida. Oh, wait....

Holly: ;dfslgjkas;dlfghadsf;jhgadsoiuygasropuygawernbv;odauzfhb;dzoiohbfh

OS: Then I'll have to force you to watch his national championship appearances. Wait, um...

Holly: I will force you to clean Danny Wuereufeffel's Super Bowl Rings.


Holly: All of them.

OS: noudiuhnt

Holly: ohidiuhd

OS: I will make you wash the frosting off Phil Fulmer's steering wheel. This will take years.

OS: I will force you to play spin the bottle with Jay Mohr.

OS: I will force you to read Jay Mohr.


OS: I will make you BE Jay Mohr.

Holly: Read implies that he writes.

OS: I have no mercy.

Holly: I will chain you to Clay Travis' next flying apparatus.

OS: I will chain you to clay travis

Holly: ...I will chain you to his Titans cheerleader lady?

OS: I could eat her

Holly: Mind the fankicks.

OS: I will have Big Daddy Drew send you pictures of his fire belly dressed up like a whistling man wearing a top hat.

Holly: I will dress you as a fruit stand and cast you in a big-budget action flick. Fruit stands never last, man.

OS: 100 cocktails. We mean, WE HATE YOU AND ALL YOU STAND FOR.

OS: I will name you as Wake Forest's starting qb in game one of a season.

Holly: That's just a separated shoulder. Take more to kill me.

Holly: Alternately: I will cast you in a one-episode arc as a love interest of Captain Kirk.

OS: OH, in that instance...I will name you the head coach at Syracuse.

Holly: Awww, don't bring up Syracuse again. That's just mean.



Orson: I will make you a non-stationary flammable object in Columbus, Ohio on Saturday

Holly: It's unfathomable that we didn't think of either of those first.

OS: I will turn you into the Tulane football program

Holly: I need a field-rushing happy school to turn you into a goalpost at.

OS: I will turn you into a 24 pack and leave you in Dennis Erickson's front seat

Holly: I will sell your furniture to one Ellis T. Jones, and send you to collect.

OS: I will tell Mark Mangino you're made of marzipan

OS: I will tell Mike Tirico that you're really into him.

Holly: I will dye your skin and hire you to coach football at Notre Dame (too much?)

OS: No, no. I will knock you out, tie you up, cover you in nickels, and throw you into the stands at a South Carolina game.

Holly: I will knock you out, tie you up, strap a baby in a onesie reading THEY'RE RAISING ME GAY to your chest, and leave you in Neyland.

OS: I will cover you in foodstamps and throw you into a Florida State Alumni meeting.

Holly: I can't get to one about a Bear Bryant hat. But I'll keep pondering.

Holly: Ah! I will put you in a houndstooth hat and assless chaps with a t-shirt that says "Bears for Bear."

OS: I will pay Ed Orgeron to beat you to death with a seventy pound catfish.

Holly: I will tell Jared Lorenzen you're filled with strawberry parfait. And hand him a very small spoon.


Holly: I will send Ed Orgeron the EDSBS url and your home address.



OS: Doesn't matter. All he needs is my scent. The rest is endgame.

OS: I will tell Kenny Irons you have a midget in your suitcase.

Holly: I will tell Marques Slocum you're a spider?

OS: I will change your name legally to Notre Dame, ensuring you die a horrific death in a BCS bowl.

Holly: No--I'll tell Marques Slocum you'll feed his pets over the weekend.


Holly: Being fucked to death by a lion would be a pretty badass death.

OS: For a few seconds, at least.

OS: I will tell Glenn Dorsey that you said he sucks. It won't like it when it hears that.

Holly: I'll tell Luther Campbell you've been fixing Miami games.

OS: I will throw you off a freighter in the North Sea and only let one man throw a life preserver to you: Michael Henig.

Holly: we've moved from transmogrification to tattling. Christ, will he even hit water?

OS: No. Point.

Holly: Or will he just throw it straight to a shark?

OS: He will throw it and knock over the chum bucket.

Holly: Correct,

OS: Which goes in the water.

OS: Summoning the sharks

Holly: I will change Pete Carroll's radio presets from smooth jazz to nu-metal and blame you.He will kill you with kindness.

OS: He's pretty jacked about that nu-metal station

Holly: But he'll feel bad about it.

OS: I will lock you in a room with Bob Davie and ask him to explain the zone blitz to you.

Holly: I will coerce you into taking the under in the Florida/Troy game, steal your wallet and dump you at the bookie's.

OS: I will tattoo Lee Corso naked on the inside of your eyelids

Holly: UNCALLED FOR. I will introduce Rex Grossman to your lovely mother.

OS: Well, she is single

Holly: ....who will somehow do such a job on her that you'll never have been born.[snaps] Retro-time-space-continuum-uterine-obliteration, lawya. Look it up.

OS: He fucked you out of existence, don't you understand? (Pan to shot of Orson and siblings. He fades in the photo, slowly. He looks at his hands, and can see through it.)

OS: I will put your fading life in the hands of the best cardiac surgeon/Ph.D in Central Florida, Dr. George O'Leary.

Holly: I'll put your cat's in the hands of Bill Frist.

OS: I'll make your life dependent on having an orgasm with a Vanderbilt man.

Holly: I'll make yours dependent on fucking the FSU cowgirl. In daylight.

OS: Death. Sweet death.

Holly: I will cut you.

OS: I will kick you in the dick mitten.

Holly: Seriously, I'll fucking cut you.

Orson Swindle is proprietor and editor of Holly may be read at Ladies...and at They really do fucking hate each other this week, and are busy reloading and polishing knives as we speak.