Linebacker was a short, stubby young boy. He was always in full football gear, except for the blue shorts he always wore. Linebacker was his first, middle, and last name. If you had survived long enough to hear him tell you that, it was probably too late anyways.
Linebacker was born to play football. Ever since he was three years old, he enjoyed smashing into his schoolmates with vigor, practicing his football moves. The victims of Linebacker’s three-year-old self usually ended up with broken bones, and in one serious case, dying. Linebackers parents had to wear titanium enforced football gear just in case Linebacker tried smashing into them, which almost always happened.
19 years later, Linebacker was captain of the best football team on the planet, the Rammers. Every game, when Linebacker went onto the field, the other team would run away screaming as Linebacker raced toward them holding the football. The Rammers had never lost a single game, and it was going to stay that way, until someone defeated Linebacker.
One day, Linebacker was out on the field practicing with his coach, Modder. Coach Modder had set up several concrete blocks on the football field just for Linebacker. Linebacker cracked his jaw and spit blood onto the ground. “Bring it on coach,”, he rumbled in a deep voice. Coach Modder blew his whistle and like a gunshot, Linebacker shot forward, straight into the first concrete block. With an ear-shattering explosion, the concrete block burst into rubble. Linebacker made quick work of the other concrete blocks. When Linebacker was on his last leg, shooting toward the last concrete block, there was an enormous rumbling sound and the ground trembled like an earthquake. Linebacker stopped running and looked up. There, walking toward him from the bleachers, was an enormous man, almost the size of a football post. Linebacker slowly analyzed the situation. It was the famed “Brickfoot”, who hadn’t even been defeated by a nuclear missile. The man’s feet were almost as big as its body. Brickfoot took another step toward, and ground trembled, almost toppling Linebacker to the grass.
“Linebacker! What are you waiting for?”
It was Coach Modder. He was holding up a stopwatch. Linebacker grimaced. He hadn’t beat his last record of 30 seconds through all of the concrete blocks. But Brickfoot was almost there. Linebacker couldn’t waste anymore time. Linebacker turned to Brickfoot and revved up. “line, LINE, LINEBACKER!!”
Linebacker shot toward, and Brickfoot reeled as Linebacker slammed into his big toe. “Owwwch!” Brickfoot groaned like creaking metal and fell toward. Linebacker looked up, just as the enormous form of Brickfoot’s buttcheck smashed into him. Linebacker screamed in pain as he was buried into ground, his prized Linebacker shoulder holding the brunt of the weight. Linebacker groaned and creaked. He had to get up.
With a blast worthy of a nuclear explosion, Linebacker shoots up, breaking a hole through Brickfoot’s posterior, and back onto the football field. Brickfoot slowly gets to his brick feet. “Brickfoot, Smash!” Brickfoot slams his foot right onto Linebacker. For a horrifying second, there is not a single sound. Then, Brickfoot lifts his foot.
sully 
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