Greg Jennings: Gat dammit Brett, put me down! I’m not hurt, I can walk fine, you woollyheaded man-child.

Brett Favre: I won’t hear it! We’re going downfield and I’m not leaving you behind.

There comes a time in every quarterback’s career where he has to take his team on his back, Greg. Now’s that time for me. The wind’s to my back again. Me and Father Time done reached an understanding that I’m on borrowed time. I have the renewed purpose of a man who knows to value his days. To make it count, what little life I have left.

Greg Jennings: Man, you’re not dying. You’ll just have to retire someday.

Brett Favre: See, that’s thing: the day I retire will be my last on this mortal coil. Madden and I already have the murder-suicide planned out. I couldn’t do that, that life of the former QB, becoming some yammering old coot. My boyish heart of a champion couldn’t live in a dried-up old vessel.

And I couldn’t deal with Deanna. Damn, that bitch is annoying.