King-hell

"Hello," you would say to the ones who looked like him as you lined up for the kickoff, and his type would nod and look away, one rock glint of recognition your due for living across the hall from one another all through freshman year, and then bang, as the ball was passed back, you'd get a bony king-hell knee in the crotch.

In a scene where nobody with any ambition is really what he appears to be, there's not much risk in acting like a king-hell freak.

This is indeed one king-hell, motherfucker of a burger—one that would be seriously difficult to top in a blind taste-off of “experts.”