Stage is set, and we’re gunna go right over the top..

with Cliches, claims and predictions that are gunna be hard to cop.

Don't despair, don't lose hope there’ll be smatterings of intelligent chat

But its the Grapple Baby and its finals…and that is mutha fuckin that

This week our heroes wax lyrical about the Rugby League Worlds very own T1000…Penrith can't be bargained with, they can’t be reasoned with. they don't feel pity, remorse, or fear. And they absolutely will not stop... ever, until you are dead!

Can they get past the Prodigal Ponies on Sunday in a triumphant return to arvo finals footy? Most likely not as Madge will no doubt make some eyebrow raising, boneheaded, flummoxing selection changes when he should simply abide by the age old Rugby League adage-“too many hamstrings spoil the broth”.

Melbourne with the likely return of the Diver and little Papi seem certain to book a spot at the dance for 47th time under Bellyaches rein of terror, but standing in their way are a bunch of teeth bearing Selachimorpha, playing at a level and with a patience seldom seen in the genus since 2016. Two GF replays from the last decade. Prelim weekend never gets any better.

Speaking of species specific encounters, the felines take centre stage at the G on Saturday.

One mob hoping to slink through, scratch a post or two, piss on someone's jacket and settle down to a plate of Whiskas whilst paying no one any attention. Another looking to tear their way through a jungle, rip to shreds anything that dares to make contact and create a dynasty of the early 2000’s variety. Our heroes never doubted them.

Wallabies to bury the AB’s at Eden Park, Europe to go B2B in the Ryder Cup and as we’ve known for at least 3 weeks now, The Colts are gunna win the Super Bowl.

No Broader problem but definitely plenty of Grappling to be done, just like Buzz Grappling with who his next faux feud needs to be with.

Hey Liver Lips.... Come Get some.

Grapple out.