The whippet wonderlands, whapsawed jockjaws, jawstraps for lockjaws,
jawing with the jocks, and the straps, and the jocksuckers —
cheerleaders wait in the corners of the locker room, their sweaters off,
stealthily unhooking their brassieres in front and in back. They skulk
out like smoke from a hidden fire, from the steam of the locker room
showers, the jocksuckers. This is why winning the game is so goddamn fun
— it's Lysistrata all over again! The cheerleaders of Central High were
the ones responsible for the awesome winning streak, and nobody outside
the transaction ever discovered this fact.