Retro Bowl Onion Access

Spud blinked. His chunky, pixelated face remained stoic. “An onion?”

Within minutes, the locker room became a portrait of suffering. The quarterback tried to hide his onion inside his helmet, but the stench clung to his gloves. The kicker, a delicate soul, simply held his onion and sobbed. Coach Spuf watched as his star wide receiver bit into the onion like an apple, shuddered violently, and then curled into a fetal position. retro bowl onion

A single, perfect, pixelated shallot .

On the final play, as time expired, the QB dropped back. The onion fumes had cleared his sinuses so violently that he could see into the future. He threw a 99-yard bomb that deflected off an onion peel, bounced off a ref’s head, and landed perfectly in the end zone. Spud blinked