The Gamekillers OBITUARIES April 2006
(Samp 2£iUpb
Joe Magner
Rashid Theodore
Andy Tider
Ross Barton
Peter Moyse
Mike Choi
Judd Engelbrecht
MAGNER, Joe, Acton, MA
It is with great sadness that we mark
the passing of Joe Magner's game.
A game once respected for its
ability to overcome great resistance.
It was in the process of doing
just that; charmingly dismantling
the defenses of a bubbly blonde
sorority girl, when Joe turned and
saw someone beside them, intently
watching their conversation. Alas,
this person was a Gamekiller, and
none other than the over-educated,
pseudo academic, knower of
everything, known as IQ. The
Gamekiller whose sole pleasure
in life is using his enormous
brainpower to extricate girls just
like Joe's. And so it was that IQ
quickly and seamlessly steered
the conversation to the dilemma .
of quasi existentialism. Joe asked
if the conversation was for real.
Setting himself up for an intellectual
pummeling. By the time Joe had
finished struggling to hold onto IQ's
train of thought, he had lost his hold
on the girl. Natura non contristatur,
Joe. Natura non contristatur.
THEODORE, Rashid, New York, NY
Were it not seen by many a
witness at the club, the death of
Rashids game would remain a
mystery befitting one of the many
crime scene investigators portrayed
nightly on television sets. For it is a
generally accepted truth that when
men get off to a great start with a
girl at a club, they soon expect to
find themselves suavely working
that woman’s torso into a tangle
on the dance floor. (With particular
attention paid to the rubbing of the
palms, the elbows, and of course
the occasional posterior.) But,
Rashid's case was peculiar, and no
matter how fluid his conversational
flow was flowing, his game
saw no moment towards the
aforementioned dancing routine,
most especially as it pertained to the
absence of any posterior-knocking.
i
Instead, Rashids spicy prospect
was beginning to show classic
signs of eye-drift and to none other
than, Man Candy, the sugar-sweet
confection of a Gamekiller revered
for his talents at topping cherries like
Rashid's lady-friend. And indeed,
another game met its demise, as
it is also a generally accepted rule
amongst women that candy is the
truest way to a woman's heart.
TIDER, Andy, Teaneck, NJ
Andy Tider's game was alive and
well. Busting up the place and
making the ladies say, "Da-am." His
game was a fine thing—full of one
liners, well-timed nods and boyish
smiles. He was firing smoothly while
he talked to a lithe young American
princess named Sharleece. Lines
like, "You should ■ be called Shar
LACE. Because you're beautiful,
and so is lace," confirmed that his
game was flying on all cylinders,
until along came the future hall-of
famer himself, The Bailer. The one
Gamekiller with more moves than
a nomad. Andy Tider could have
kept his cool, could have shrugged
off The Bailers play for his girl with
a simple pump fake to the bar and
a drive to the Sharleece lane, but
instead he got caught in The Bailer
full-court trap. And before he knew
it, Tider and The Bailer were re
enacting Detroit vs. Indiana 2005.
Andy Tider, you are the first player to
turn an easy lay-up into a personal
foul. Somewhere up there, Andy
Tider, Wilt is laughing.
BARTON, Ross, McDonough, GA
Approximately at dawn or sometime
early like that last Saturday morning
marked the death of Ross Bartons
game. Which came as some
surprise to Ross who thought for sure
he was in the process of scoring
at Club Voidance with a gorgeous
pixie-raver named BunnyFlower. But
such is the fate of any man who tries
to score while in the chill out room
of a rave, especially if that chill out
t ‘
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room is inhabited by the cuddly
teddy-bear of a soul otherwise
known as The Gamekiller, Sensitivo.
For as cute as rave girls can be in
a pair of neon purple pajamas, it
is best not to tell them so when they
are in the middle of wondering why
the Earth doesn't orbit around love.
Nor is it cool to try to cop a feel
inside their fuzzy one-piece and
pass it off as a momentary lapse
of depth perception. Nor is it cool
to mention that all this music seems
to be stuck on repeat. And these
were just some of the many lessons
Ross learned from Sensitivo, the
last of which came when Sensitivo
took his BunnyFlower home at 9
a.m. to, "Just, you know, mellow
out and lounge on his warm, velvet
comforter."
MOYSE, Peter, Washington, DC
This is to mark the demise of Peter
Moyse's game. Peters game had
been happily working on a pair of
foreign exchange students. Well
aware that there's so much that
can be misinterpreted as charming
and witty when there's a language
barrier. Peter was about to go
for broke, offering to teach them
the meaning of his favorite (and
only) French term: menage a trois,
when fate dealt him a cruel blow,
for in walked The Gamekiller, The
Bailadeer. A walking repository of
meter and rhyme. The Bailadeer is
more than a pair of ripped denim
jeans and an unruly haircut. For as
any music groupie would attest—
especially those who could care
less about lyrics—a song sung is
like eight octaves better than one
spoken. Peter could have kept his
game alive if he'd just kept his cool.
But did he? Hell no. He stepped
out of his game and went all a
cappella on the foreign beauties.
Leaving the girls with no choice
but to nightcap at The Balladeer's
house where he delighted them to
his latest chart-topping track, "Just
the Three of Us."
CHOI, Mike, Queens, NY
The once valiant game of Mike
Choi died this past weekend at
a charming pub well known to
locals as a killer pick-up scene. The
evening had begun auspiciously
when Choi was asked by a beautiful
lass what he did for a living. To •
which, Choi replied convincingly,
"Philanthropy." On any other
night such a cavalier lie might be
rewarded with an equally generous
tongue-to-tongue reciprocation, but
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on this night, Choi was unaware
that within earshot of his gross
misrepresentation was the Emirate
for which the UAE was named
after, the financier who prefers
currency with his own likeness on
it, The Gamekiller Switzerland calls
on for financial planning, Kash
Munni. And what a shame it was,
to watch something as genuinely
humanitarian as Chois definition
of philanthropy die a quick death
at the 24-Carat gold watch laden
wrist of Kash Munni who needed
only to turn it over once and say
simply, "The limo, my lady, awaits."
Leaving Choi feeling philanthropic
only to Glen, the genial bartender.
.•.. ■ ... .
ENGELBRECHT, Judd, Brainerd, MN
Judd's game was proceeding
along nicely as it followed closely
behind the toned and tanned
posterior of his athletic date, Beth,
on a bucolic mountain bike ride
through the hills of San Francisco.
When all of a sudden something
punctured Beth's tire, leaving it
and subsequently Judd's game,
gasping for air. For, while Judd
tried to repair the tube, along the
path came The Gamekiller who
has never consulted the thesaurus,
known simply as Early Man. And,
as all damsels in distress will do,
while Judd tried in vain to remove
her tire from the wheel frame, she
gradually grew weary of his laundry
list of excuses and began to turn
her attention to Early Man whose
brain might resemble a slime mold,
but whose biceps require their own
zip code. And before Judd could
say, "Uh, Beth I thought we were
on a date here," Early Man had
picked up Beth, perched her on his
shoulders, and took a caveman-like
pride about showing her each and
every hill of San Francisco, then
Sacramento, then Santa Barbara,
and finally, San Diego.
Obituaries can be created and sent
via email to friends at gamekillers.com
Keep Your Cool. Axe Dry.
| 02006 UNILEVER
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