Fostex’ Fanfest Adventures Part III, Return of the King! Larry King, That Is!


February 24, 2017 by Shannon Michael Smith/Tom Fostex

Howdy, mirth-seekers! Welcome! Let’s rip right into it, shall we?

Ryu’s return? The ex-Hanwha Eagle claims he’s in tip-top shape and ready to rejoin the starting ranks of the Blue Crew. In 2014, Ryu went 14-7 with a 3.38 ERA, but he’s barely taken the hill in two years. Sadly, we envision a repeat of last year. Ryu can’t stay healthy. Our expectations aren’t high for the cherubic Korean.

Does Roberts really think that Puig will be a primary outfielder for the team this season? Maybe. There are little options at this point. Can Bellinger handle the outfield every day, if at all? Can Joc ever regain the flashes of power we saw in ’15? How effective can Ethier be? After all, it’s Roberts’ job to try to pump up Puig. What’s he supposed to do, throw Puig under the bus before it gets to AZ? Expect plenty of positive, smiley-faced, rah rah comments this March. Would Roberts do it any other way?

It’s a Camelback attack as Dodger Spring Training games kick off tomorrow! We’ll be rolling down to Avondale in Tom Fostex’ red ’73 Pontiac Lemans GT. A white interior means no hot sauce packets or open cheladas in the car! That goes for Fiery Hot Cheetos too…

Speaking of Fiery Hot Cheetos, Fostex gets into his thoughts on the spicy snack in part three of his Fanfest Adventures (spoiler: he calls them dog dicks.)

Sadly, the Dodgers are extremely protective of their players and took the black pen to our article…after their CIA-like censor job, Fostex’ piece looked something like this:

“I approached Justin Turner just as he was CENSORED a fan behind a Dippin’ Dots booth. I reminded him of the time I saw him CENSORED in Tijuana five years ago. He flipped me off and told me to CENSORED. The whole encounter made me thirsty for some El Compadre margs. 

Some pampered scribes started chirping insipid CENSORED at Redturn (“Gee, Justin, are you excited about the four-year deal blah blah”…what’s he supposed to say? No?)

At that point I spied Alyssa Milano doing her damnedest to avoid the liver-spotted hands of Larry King. I swooped in to the rescue. I was just about to take her elbow and offer an escape to El Compadre, when Puig tried to cockblock me with a vicious CENSORED to my CENSORED.

“I heard about your article on my helicopter,” hissed Puig. “You think you’re a funny— CENSORED.”

I stumbled away and tried to compose myself. Out of nowhere, Kenley Jansen and Kenta Maeda roughly grabbed my arms and hoisted me into the air. 

They threw me into a dunk tank full of Blue Curacao instead of water. I drank as much as I could before Gonzo CENSORED. I thought he was lending a hand before he went all Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka and hurled me into a Wetzel’s Pretzels stand.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any weirder, God showed up and told Clayton Kershaw to “not be such a goody-goody, go to a strip club once in a while for Christ’s sake”…and yes, the man upstairs looks exactly like George Burns.

Finally, Lasorda gave me a brutal death stare and motioned to some security guards, who immediately whipped out blow darts and CENSORED.

By the time the CENSORED wore off, I was propped up at the El Compadre bar with a half-empty marg and a Frank Sinatra Jr. song in my head.

I reached for my cell phone to call rascalsoftheravine headquarters. Smith needed to hear about this injustice by Lasorda, pronto. Maybe one of his fancy lawyers could CENSORED.

My thoughts were interrupted by a vision behind the bar…Alyssa Milano herself topped off my marg with a smile. She wore nothing but a see-through Dodger blue negligee. I grinned like the Cheshire Cat before it dawned on me…the CENSORED the guards had hit me with was still coursing through my veins. 

I shut my eyes tight. 

When I opened up the ol’ peepers again, Milano had transformed into a stout, Hispanic man in his 60s named Oscuro Cielo.  I motioned for a side-shot of Cuervo.

I thought about the fun i’d have exacting my revenge in Arizona as I drained my glass. Gonzo and Lasorda have no idea what’s coming—CENSORED chicken wings CENSORED hazardous waste CENSORED air vent CENSORED Larry King’s toupee CENSORED brush fire CENSORED local authorities CENSORED body shots CENSORED Pappadeaux CENSORED lobster tank CENSORED…” 

Strong words from the miffed Fostex, indeed! We’ll see what sort of revenge he enacts in AZ next week! We’ll also parody tweets from pampered scribes (hell, they don’t even write articles anymore, just keyword-rich gibberish! Damn the tweet twits!)

We can’t wait to get to Avondale! Our next installment of Rascalsoftheravine will be “Cactus League Chaos-Tales From Tequila Towers IV”! Look for it around March 7th! Until then, mirth-seekers!!!

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