[narrating] In 1966, FuManBlue escaped from MGoBlog prison. All they found of him was a muddy set of prison clothes, a bar of soap, and an old rock hammer, damn near worn down to the nub. I remember thinking it would take a man six hundred years to tunnel through the wall with it. Old FuMan did it in less than twenty. Oh, FuMan loved geology. I imagine it appealed to his meticulous nature. An ice age here, million years of mountain building there. Geology is the study of pressure and time. That's all it takes really, pressure, and time. That, and a big goddamn poster. Like I said, in prison a man will do most anything to keep his mind occupied. Turns out FuMan's favorite hobby was totin' his wall out into the exercise yard, a handful at a time. I guess after Midnight Blue was killed, FuMan decided he'd been here just about long enough. FuMan did like he was told, buffed those shoes to a high mirror shine. The guards simply didn't notice. Neither did I... I mean, seriously, how often do you really look at a mans shoes? FuMan crawled to freedom through five hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can't even imagine, or maybe I just don't want to. Five hundred yards... that's the length of five football fields, just shy of half a mile.
Coaches' timeouts are worse. Basketball teams should get one, full stop.