…Choose Your Slavemaster
**Third and Final Installment of the MFA Quadrilogy**
by MHB
There comes a point in a young man’s life when he must choose between his head and his heart, between chasing after a dream or settling for a sure thing that seems “good enough”. You are all well past that point, and you almost certainly made the wrong choices. Every fucking time, because SKA. So let’s deal with this Keal vs. MFA thing.
GENESIS
There used to be ESPN. It was this place that also had articles I didn’t read, written by people paid to be ignored by me. That’s what made them so professional. At the bottom was a chat window, and this is where our story begins. You would type things here in an attempt to make fans of other teams angry. Through our mutual hatred, bonds began to form. As it turns out, you need people to read your bullshit in order for someone to get mad at it. ESPN did this really well, but it was the only part of the equation they couldn’t monetize (or control), so we were living on borrowed time.
TRAIN RIDE TO CAMP AUSCHWITZ
Just like the Jews in Egypt, we existed happily in this foreign land serving our ESPN overlords. Of course, every story involving the Jews ends with them being forced out and hunted to extinction. Such was the case with our tribes, as Pharaoh Brock chased us through the Red Sea bed in his 5-Series BMW.
A LEADER RISES
This was a chaotic and contentious time, with many false gods forming many different factions. Splintered this way, there was no hope for survival. What we needed was a MOSES figure, someone who would rise up from among us, and through his brilliant oratory and magnetic charisma, unite the clans in order to survive. This is exactly what happened when a young Christopher Keal put down his Bud can, moved 6 inches closer to the bonfire, and stirringly spoke the words we needed to hear: “A website? Hmm, ahh, yeah. Well, fuck it. I guess. I mean yeah, whatever. Let me just finish this first.” And from that point forward, I knew this was the man I would blindly follow and kill for without him even asking.
TROUBLE IN PARADISE
MFA never did fully buy-in to Keal as the Messiah. He always looked down upon Keal’s laissez-faire approach to fandom, moderating, and snake-shoveling. Deep down, he knew he could do it better, and with streaming music to boot. The seed was planted early, and after BusinessCardGate he secretly spent a full calendar year putting together the Geocities page that would ultimately take down SKA with its fancy Hollywood CGI. Keal had no idea what was coming, that innocent, loveable sap.
REVELATIONS
So here we stand, on the precipice of all-out war. In Camp MFA, 2 or 3 people serving him ironically. In Camp Keal, two dozen or so who don’t really give a fuck what happens. It’s an even match, and if this article can serve to sway anyone on the fence, then listen to your favorite animatronic shit-talking pineapple and choose Christopher Keal. He was there for us in our darkest nights, applying just the right amount of pressure to our prostates to ensure the maximum milking yield. His iconic avatar doesn’t need to be changed every three hours to show off how easily he can browse to a new photo while effortlessly selecting it. MFA uses his fancy technical skills to wow the younger generation, while Keal trains his dog to fetch him beer from the fridge, in vain. The choice should be clear.
Maynard The CFB Guru
1