Are you ready for this? This shit is deep (so deep it put that ass to sleep.) Here goes...
In 1994, the US, Canada and Mexico dropped NAFTA on the free world. Things would never be the same for any of us, especially those in the worlds of Major League Baseball and Mexican farming.
As illegal immigration grew exponentially after the introduction of NAFTA, our society began to change in ways that were not fully appreciated by many. I for one love street tacos, but that's beside the point.
While a sudden influx of immigrants affects a society in a number of ways, those in power can usually give two shits as long as they keep cashing their checks. However, an increase in dark faces in Major League Baseball was too much for The Man to handle. He moved swiftly to eradicate what He saw as a growing plague in our country's greatest sporting institution.
After taking in more donkey shows than any men ever should, the leaders of the CIA, INS and the Department of Justice were ordered to convene for a secret meeting in a Tijuana motel. Between ritual hooker sacrifices and shots of tequila, they hatched one of the more devious plans the world HAS EVER SEEN!
Using NAFTA to their advantage, they began making secret purchases of ridiculously large amounts of steroids, human growth hormone, horse tranquilizers and flour from unknown sources in the Caribbean. These materials were then transferred, processed and packaged at various maquiladores throughout the Mexican state of Sonora.
Exports were easily made through La Cucaracha Tortilla Chip Company (you were wondering about that flour, I'm sure) and the next step was ready to be taken.
The CIA's covert agents infiltrated Major League Baseball training rooms and baseball academies in the Caribbean, pushing their product as some sort of potion to grant super human strength. Their genius was in flooding the bottom of the Major League Baseball food chain with their substances and watching as the amount of users grew and grew as time went on.
Performance enhancer use was soon widespread among the "non-whites" (The Man's name for Latin American ballplayers) and the plan was working to perfection. All profits from La Cucaracha Tortilla Chip Company were secretly routed to two Major League Baseball franchises in Boston and New York City (Bronx.)
The Man, in conjunction with Major League Baseball's commissioner, Bud Selig, ordered these two franchises to spend the profits wildly and recklessly, vowing to implement a luxury tax in the near future so that every team in Major League Baseball could share in the joy of wiping one's ass with hundred dollar bills.
The INS looked the other way as more and more young ballplayers arrived in the States to play baseball without using the proper channels and the Department of Justice stonewalled any attempts at shutting down steroid distributors because they really liked the free chips and salsa they were receiving.
Before the 1998 season, Sammy Sosa was made to inject steroids on a daily basis so that he could break any and all baseball hitting records. The Man hated to see any precious records fall but this was a means to an end. They were going to build Sosa up and then break him down.
When Sosa broke the home run record, the CIA's covert operatives would start a smear campaign against the new home run champ, complete with steroid purchase receipts and his collection of thong underwear. Sosa would be made an example and the rest of the "non-whites" would be rounded up and shipped back to their respective homelands.
As we all know, the conclusion of the well-hatched plan never came to fruition. The shit really hit the fan as Mark McGwire raced past Sosa to claim the single season home run record.
Devastated that the CIA agents went overboard with their proliferation of performance enhancers, losing control of their ground level pushers and resulting in damn near every player of every background trying to gain the promised superhuman strength, The Man simply regrouped and put one of their sons in the White House.
story like that has got to be true
2 comments:
Is the title a Jurassic Park reference? If yes, awesome. Either way, your story needs more dinosaurs in it... and robots, many more robots.
OF COURSE it's a Jurassic Park reference. I am to please.
In fact, I wrote the whole post with a cigarette smoked all the way down to the butt in my mouth.
I rule.
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