Elmo paced furiously around the room, football stats in one hand and a 40-ounce in the other. Everything that he once cared about was now meaningless. Fantasy football was everything. He had to win his league. It was destiny. A personal assistant darted into the room and handed Elmo a sheet of paper. Partly cloudy today with a high in the lower 60s, the page began. It might rain at night. Wednesday afternoon will be partly sunny, with a high in the upper 50s. “I have no time for the weather,” Elmo barked. “Bring me all the information you have on wide receivers in Seattle. I simply cannot make the same mistake again.”
Elmo the moron
Published October 8, 1996
