The Blue Raiders Cheerleader Alumni Association holds their "Thund"raiser for Lightning outside of Tiger Stadium. The pony was being coaxed away by some dudes from Carencro; a couple of hours later, Blue Raider fans were treated to the finest jambalaya they'd ever gummed.     "Dear Blue Raider Nation - It's me, Lightning. This is so hard for me. I can't make it back with the team...I'm a little to full too fly, but I had a bunch of fried alligator and instead of sneezing lightning, it kinda came out the Saban end and I set an empty playground on fire, so I have to stay here anyway for some community service. I think when I'm done with my service, I'll stay. I believe I've found a new home here; I think my blue goes really well with purple and gold, and frankly, you suck. Hearts, T-Bolt" Kids, that's what we call "Beamerbawl." Good heavens - the Tigers opened up the floodgates and were actually showered with genuine cool crisp hype from pundits across the land. As in "best in the land" hype. Number 1 hype. Better than USC, the team that may not have invented the forward pass, but damn near perfected it? Better than a team coached by Bea Arthur Carroll, whose boundless enthusiasm and "We're - pals - no - really - yes - Golden - Girls - was - funny" demeanor has endeared him to many an ESPN anchor and producer? This was a win of epic proportions, marked by flawless execution and the wildest of hairs crammed in the deepest of parts. The Tigers were wild, like a busload of 3rd Graders after consuming gallons of Pepsi and jars of Mini-Thins...and they all have machetes for arms. The Tigers engulfed the Hokies, who despite their golden crisp skin and tender juicy breasts, had a dirty diaper stuffing that polluted the entire feast. What, pray tell, could be for dessert? How about some winged pony? The schedule reaches below the Sun Belt and pulls out a...uh...Pegasus? Well, it's more of an angry horsebird and snorts lightning. To understand our foe from a conference far, far away, The Trough decided to sit down with Middle Tennessee's horsebird mascot to see what he would have to say about the game. TROUGH: Hi there, friend. Welcome, welcome. Let's get this formality out of the way...um, we've never really done this before, so we're a little nervous. Do we, uh, pay you before or after? SKYPONY: Wait, what? TROUGH: You know, for, um, "services rendered?" SKYPONY: Wait, what? TROUGH: You know. Wink, wink. This is an out of conference game for you, and you're really just here to collect your beating and your money, right? We don't know how much more plainly we can make it: you're getting out from the "Belt" and coming here to lay down, so here's your check. SKYPONY: We will not be treated this way. We are a serious competitor, and we are not here to lose. TROUGH: Will you take a check? I found some My Little Pony ones - I thought that would be ok. So, what's the going rate for a beatdown these days? SKYPONY: Four hundred thousand dollars, give or take. TROUGH: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What kind of whore are you? Do you coach at Alabama? For that rate, you should really be called an "escort." SKYPONY: ... TROUGH: Oh, sorry. Ok, back to the game. Anyway, welcome! So, Middle Tennessee...where is that? Is that like in upper Tennessee? SKYPONY: Jeez, no it's...never mind. It's centrally located in the Murfreesboro area. TROUGH: Ah, gotcha. So upper Tennessee. SKYPONY: Sure. Whatever. TROUGH: Well, we thought y'all would have to be pretty high, that's why you have wings, right? SKYPONY: Not really. The winged horse was a powerful, important creature in Greek mythology; today, it represents power. TROUGH: Greek mythology? That's like those people being born from their dad's foreheads and from animals and blood and stuff, right? You know, you're right - that's a perfect fit for upper Tennessee. SKYPONY: ... TROUGH: So we read that the "Blue Raiders" were not your original name. In fact, you were once the "Pedagogues." Why would you change that, ever? SKYPONY: "Blue Raiders" came about as part of a contest, and it seemed to stick. TROUGH: But you had other names, too. In fact, at one point, you were called the "Normalites." Why would you change THAT? That's a very terrifying, creepy name. Like that German guy in Raiders of the Lost Ark, the one with the nunchakas for the coat hanger. We mean, we could see his face if you just close your eyes and whisper "Normalite," "Normalite," "Normalite..." SKYPONY: Um, is it always like this here? TROUGH: Ooh! Ooh! Normalite could be like some lady who is REALLY fat and she's named Norma, but she loses a lot of weight after they knock down a wall of her house with a frontloader. So now she's all wild in her hot new body but she's awkward because she's never been on a lot of dates. So "Normalite" could represent, well, all sorts of stuff. But frontloaders and crazy ladies and excess skin? Again, that has upper Tennessee written all over it. SKYPONY: I think we're going to stick with the Pegasus, thanks. Is this almost over? TROUGH: Awww, does the widdle horsie want to leave? We have more to chat about! Like the fact that you had another name...the "Teachers." OOOH! All these damn names - why didn't you just call yourselves Auburn? SKYPONY: Yeah, Auburn sucks. But we thought the Pegasus was a great symbol. TROUGH: Teachers are a great symbol for kids. I mean, they are a better symbol than a winged pony. Oh sure, I bet every parent wants their child to hop aboard a flying pony for a ride. How very safe. How irresponsible of you, Norma. NORMA: I don't think the Pegasus gave a lot of pony rides. He was too busy carrying lightning bolts. That's where I get my name, "Lightning." TROUGH: Whoa, whoa - hold up. You have lightning? What, flying kids around with no saddle isn't good enough for you? You have to melt their skin, too, like at the end of Raiders? Jeez, Norma, what the hell is your problem? NORMA: [sigh] Look, maybe I should just go. TROUGH: NO! Stay with me boltpony. Look, I think it's pretty sweet that you can carry lightning. NORMA: I snort lightning. TROUGH: That boring up there in upper Tennessee, huh? You know you can just drink beer. I bet that snorting stuff hurts, especially lightning. You saw what it did in Back to the Future. NORMA: Aren't we supposed to talk about the game? TROUGH: Oh yeah! Boy, talk about lightning. We at The Trough expect us to win by about 73 points. NORMA: Is that so? How did you come up with that, pray tell? TROUGH: We added up average scores and some key numbers, then we indexed them, then we set up a data set, and we divided by your total and complete suck, and plugged it into our Acculator, which spit out 72. It also spit out some pepper jelly. My friend kept calling the Acculator the "deep freezer." NORMA: This is just weird. TROUGH: Right - and lighting-snorting dragon horsies...all the norm. NORMA: This has been a total waste. TROUGH: Yeah, you might leave with enough money to buy a Saban cufflink, but we think it was a waste coming here. Of course, we appreciate your help with our record, but why would you want your QB through this? You did see the Virginia Tech game, right? NORMA: Yes, y'all were dominant. We're going to have our hands full trying to crack your defense and offense and special teams and coach and stadium and food and drunken fans. TROUGH: Yeah, you'll have your hands full [tugging crotch]. NORMA: ... TROUGH: I'm just bucking around, horsie. You're going to need some luck! NORMA: Like this? [holds up horseshoe] TROUGH: Neat! It's a toilet seat for My Little Ponies, right? NORMA: No, it's...never mind. We're going to storm all over your field. TROUGH: That's pretty easy for a horse that sneezes LIGHTNING, Norma. Pick something difficult, like watching Glenn Dorsey put on his pants, getting ready to eat your quarterbacks face. You know Dorsey puts his pants on 2 legs/time? You know we knock quarterbacks of the game, right? You know that this ain't hand grenades, so you better be ready to fire up that horseshoe, maybe sniff a little cayenne to get your wattage flowing, and come here for your beating. NORMA: I think this is over. TROUGH: Yeah, that was the case when you scheduled the game. Now, slip off those diminutive toilet seats and put on these fishnets. "Ol' Nasty Deuce": 56 Norma: 0 Welcome to The Trough, a place that really gets to the meat of LSU's opponents. Ok, not so much the meat, but the sinewy gristle and thick connective tissue. We then feed these funbits through a grinder to get a coarse meaty bounty, and that's what is on display here. It should be a given that while The Trough is loosely related to LSUChicageaux.com, it's more like a Baton Rouge uncle than a Tuscaloosa cousin. In other words, what's in The Trough is obviously not endorsed by any official LSU entity. They've got better sense than that.