[Sound of keys in lock, door opening]

Ronnie Brown: Hello?

Oh fuck. Have you been here all day? You know we had practice, right?

Ricky Williams: Not so loud, man. Yoyoyo, shut the door. I’m tryna watch the opening ceremonies.

Holy shit, I think my eyes are cumming.

Ronnie: That’s all you’ve been doing for the last week and a half. You haven’t even watched any of the actual Olympics.

Ricky: No need, dude. The opening ceremonies are like the icing on the cupcake. The rest is just tasteless filler.

By the way, can I interest you in a hit off Mandela?

Ronnie: Nah. I told you I’m not using your bong and you shouldn’t either.

Ricky: It’s not my bbboooooonnnnnggggg, man. It’s Mandela. Show some respect.

Ronnie: Whatever it is, it’s gonna get you kicked off the team. Parcells finds out about this shit, you’re gone in a half a heartbeat.

Ricky: Pfft. Whatever. You just haven’t been around long enough to learn how to work Parcells. All’s you gotta do if you do something to get on his bad side is say Pepper Johnson told you to do it. Works. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

Ronnie: So that’s how you got away with duct taping Ted Ginn to that tree?

Ricky: Exactly.

Ronnie: All right. But what about when the league does drug testing? Huh? What about that, smart guy?

Ricky: You know how we saw Pineapple Express? That was some funny shit. The over-the-top violence, the Gladiator quotes, all of it.

Ronnie: Uh-huh.

Ricky: So, yeah, you know how it’s got the new really potent strain of weed? Well, I employed my years of expertise to develop my own. I call it Ritzy Montclair.

It’s undetectable by all league and law enforcement testing methods. It also has subtle notes of pecan flavor. Already got Josh Howard and Lil’ Wayne coming over later to pick some up. Mike Vick is already asking me to ship him some in prison concealed inside a birthday brownie.

Ronnie: That’s cool, I guess. Still, I don’t feel right doing that stuff. Easy for you to take risks, being 31 and all.

Ricky: Hey hey, no problem, man. No pressure here. Anyway, you wanna play Ewok Village?

Ronnie: The fuck is Ewok Village?

[Ricky lights the end of a rolled up newspaper on fire and proceeds to stomp robotically around the room while holding the paper aloft]

Ricky: Yumyum! Yumyum!

Ronnie: What is the point of this game?

Ricky: [Still stomping around] Yumyum! Yumyum!

Ronnie: GODDAMN IT! I DON’T WANNA PLAY EWOK VILLAGE ANYMORE!

Ricky: [Calmly sitting back down on the couch] I never get tired of that game.

Ronnie: I feel a season-ended injury coming on extra early this year.