We all know about the Curse of Billy Penn. Old news, right? Some of us have lived with it our entire lives.
Enough, already. This project started with an idea and an email. If Billy Penn was placed on the roof of my house in Flagstaff, Arizona, at nearly 7,000 feet above sea level, maybe the curse would be lifted. He wants to be above everything, right? And he’s at what, maybe 600 feet above sea level in Philly? I’ll put him on top of the damn world. What more could that fat bastard want out of us Philly fans?
I sent word to the Eagles fans I know.
From: big jonny
Subject: Billy Penn Project
I have been web searching for a statue of our beloved, if not stubborn and vengeful, Billy Penn. I can’t seem to find one. Who knew there was no market for such an item? Take that, you Quaker bastard. Regardless, if any of you should find such an item, preferably something less than a foot tall and not made of cement, I will place one atop my house facing eastward towards the land that fat pig swindled from the Delaware Indians. I will also place one atop the roof of Brinky’s aptly named “garage mahal” sports viewing complex whether he approves or not. (Brink – this is Philly were talking about. A lot of people are depending on us. Don’t be a pussy.)
If that sulking assclown isn’t impressed with being upgraded from a lowly 548 to nearly 7,000 feet above sea level, nothing can save us.
I dragged my friend Brinky into it, because that’s just what friends do. If I’m putting that bastard on my roof, I’ll be damned if he ain’t doing it too. We gotta cover all the bases, right?
I just need to find a statue of that fat pig Quaker…