Greetings, brethren, and welcome to the Pun Primer, a weekly compendium of opponent-specific puns for you to employ (or modify/add to in the comments) at your leisure. It is my most fervent hope that these would be at once a source of glee for ODBers and of sheer, unmitigated terror for our hapless adversaries. This week, the SMU Mustangs.
Before we begin, however, a brief disclaimer. To those members of this community who bear some inexplicable grudge against the noble and oft-maligned pun, this is not a post for you (Did you spot the pun in this sentence? If so, you are eligible for a $5 cash prize.*). Further reading has but two possible endpoints, neither of them pleasant. In the first scenario, you emerge from a fugue state six months from now in the depths of some forest in Maine, covered in blood from head to toe, feebly kicking lobster clutched tightly in hand. Also, you only have one hand, so. In the second scenario, you disintegrate into ash on the spot, yet your spirit remains, anchored to your seat, eyes permanently locked on this article and welling over with incorporeal tears eternal. Like it or not, these are the options; there is no room for a middle ground when it comes to puns (In fact, there’s no room for ANYTHING when it comes to puns. They’re just words, you see, and as such, volumeless).
Should you read these warnings yet decide to soldier on, you have my sincerest respect, and I wish you the best of luck on your forthcoming dice roll between mental and physical oblivion. Here’s to hoping you are allergic to neither shellfish nor your own ash.
To those of you who, like me, are actually rather fond of puns as a) an exercise in rampant conflation and b) a juvenile but immensely satisfying means of annoying EVERYONE IN EAR/KEY-SHOT, welcome. This is a safe space—a garden, if you will, where puns can be planted and nurtured away from the harsh and unforgiving rays of a too-self-serious sun. As your Master Gardener, I’ll take it upon myself to sow the first few seeds and do a little pruning as necessary, but the real joy lies in watching those seeds blossom. Let’s get to it.
*Cash prize not available in some states of mind.
At the first sign of disorganization on the part of SMU:
- "Mustangs? More like RUSTANGS."
- "Talk about putting the cart before the horse."
- "Things not going as "SMU-thly" as the ‘Stangs might’ve hoped."
- "Looks like Coach Jones forgot to shift this jalopy into Highland DRIVE."
- "More like ‘Dallas Sellers Club,’ amirite."
- "Coach Jones bit off more than he could chew with this one."
- "SMU saddled with a grim slate."
At the mention of diva behavior by an SMU skill position player:
- "I’ve heard of high mane-tenance, but this is ridiculous."
- "This is football, not dressage."
- "Rein it in, fellas."
In the event of poor preparation for the late August heat:
- "These players look like they’ve been hoofing glue."
- "YOU CAN LEAD A HORSE TO WATER BUT YOU CAN’T MAKE HIM DRINK"
In the event of a focus on ball control by SMU:
- "Stallions? More like STALL-IONS."
- "The Walkbury Tales, by Geoffrey Chaucer"
- "JOCKEYING FOR POSITION"
- "The Baylor defense: never one to look a gift horse in the mouth."
Coach June Jones
- "There’s a reason* we don’t call him January Jones."
- "His Royal Preakness himself, the immortal June Jones."
- "Jejune Jones"
Starting QB Neal Burcham
- "When Oak meets Birch, one has to kneel."
- "HE’S GOING DOWN, WE’RE YELLING TIMBERRRRRR"
- "Logging minutes in the starting slot."
- "SMU not very fetlocked-in at the moment."
- "SMU just withering beneath the onslaught of this Baylor offense."
- "Palomino? More like PaloMINUS."
- "SMU fans will need a pint’o something after this."
- "More like an unpainted horse, amirite."
- "The SMUa Theo-low-gica, by St. Thomas Equinas**"
I SAY NEIGH
- "NEIGHLED IT" (as an addendum to a particularly good pun)
- "This will do little to quiet neighsayers."
- "You could say that this SMU team is still…*sunglasses*… NEIGHSCENT."
- "THE SMU DEFENSE: NEIGHKED AND AFRAID"
- "SO MUCH FOR LOVING THY NEIGHBOR"
And that’s more than enough to be getting on with from me for now. Go forth, then, and remember: pun responsibly.
*Here is the other reason:
**Alas, no depictions of St. Thomas Equinas remain, though it is said he was a real looker. Here is a computational reconstruction based on the most reliable speculation currently available:
What a stud.