Dream Team

In school we played murder ball. Others called it dodge ball, but we knew better. We students, full of anger and frustration, sought decapitation.
Our dream team consisted entirely of Mafia kids. No one wanted to face us, especially after certain vague threats were made in the locker room. Our gesticulations all meant 'horrible death' in Italian.
We even thought about starting a pro league. Our gym teacher was a fierce Armenian who claimed his team back home was better than ours. The players all were children of their underworld. We fumed. Contacted our fathers. A match was set up. ESPN coverage. Las Vegas took bets. Publicity boomed. Expectations rose. Oh, the excitement.
Then a bunch of tree hugging liberals passed a law outlawing the sport.
We will go underground. Mutilation in gym shorts is part of our heritage.