Mike Carey’s Unexpected Visitor
Int. the Carey Household
Mike Carey: Mike Junior, I need to see you in the kitchen immediately.
Junior: Hey dad, what’s up? You must have had a pretty rough day. I saw you get run over by a quarterback, that was pretty funny. But why was that other quarterback screaming at you?
Carey: Listen, Junior, I just went over your latest algebra problem set and there are some things we need to discuss.
Junior: What’s the problem dad? I thought I got all of the correct answers this time.
Carey: Well son, your answers were correct, but more importantly, you failed to properly explain your answers.
Junior: But if I got everything right then why do I need to bother with explanations. It seems like overkill to me.
Carey: Overkill? How can you think a proper explanation is overkill? I think I need to have this chat with your algebra teacher.
Junior: But dad, you are my algebra teacher. I won’t take algebra in school for another three years.
Carey: Well good. Maybe by that time you’ll appreciate the importance of a good thorough explanation. Until then, let me explain this first one to you from the start.
Junior: Oh God, here we go.
[Door flies open]
Philip Rivers: Ya betta ask somebodddddddaaaaaayyyyyyyy!
Junior: Hey, it’s that quarterback who yells at everybody!
Rivers: HEY, IT’S THAT BED-WETTING FUCKSTAIN THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT! Shut your mouth kid, the grownups need to do some talking. Why don’t you go play in traffic for a few minutes while I turn your daddy into a hand puppet.
Carey: Hold it right there, Mr. Rivers, you have no right to come into my home like this.
Rivers: Yeah, well MR. FRUIT STRIPES, you have no right to call me for intentional grounding in the endzone!
Carey: Actually that’s exactly my right. If you’ll allow me to explain…
Rivers: NO! YOU AREN’T EXPLAINING SHIT THIS TIME, ASSHOLE! I’M A GOD DAMN QUARTERBACK AND YOU’RE JUST SOME PISSANT WITH A STRIPED SHIRT AND A WHISTLE. HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND MY INTENTIONS WHEN I UNLEASHED THAT LASER? [mimics a long pass, imaginary ball floats in the air for thirty seconds before it evaporates like a dream deferred].
Carey: For your information I played a bit of college ball back in California.
Rivers: Yeah, I’m sure you were the big man on campus at UCLGAY.
Carey: Actually it was UCSB SCU.
Rivers: Whatever asshole, I’m here to tell you that I know what you’re up to.
Carey: And what would that be?
Rivers: You, Hochuli, and all of you other hat wearing bitches are trying to make me look bad.
Carey: I assure you…
Rivers: SHUT THE FUCK UP, I’M TALKING NOW. AND DON’T TRY ACTING INNOCENT, I KNOW WHO IS BEHIND THIS DIABOLICAL CONSPIRACY.
Carey: Oh yeah, and who might that be.
Rivers: CUTLERFUCKER!
Carey: That’s it Mr. Rivers, I’ve had about as much of your belligerence as I can tolerate and I think it’s time for you to leave.
Rivers: LIKE FUCK I’M LEAVI-
Carey: ENOUGH! If you won’t leave quietly then I’ll have to explain to you in no uncertain terms exactly why you must leave my house right this minute.
Rivers: …
Carey: First of all, when you rushed unabated into my home you encroached on the sanctity of my neutral zone without establishing yourself as an eligible visitor.
Rivers: …
Carey: Furthermore, you committed a personal foul by referring to my son as a “bed-wetting fuckstain,” before you incurred an additional fifteen yard unsportsmanlike conduct penalty for referring to a referee as “Mr. Fruit Stripes.” Both penalties will be assessed from the spot of the foul.
Rivers: MAKE IT STOP!
Carey: Only you can make it stop, Mr. Rivers. If you do not return to your sideline immediately I will have to flag you for a delay of my dinner, which of course will require a five part explanation before we even get to the ruling.
Rivers: [backs away slowly]
Carey: Now Junior, let’s start by explaining why we must isolate the variable on one side of the equation. But first, I’ll bet you want to know why they use the letter “x” in mathematics.
Junior: [backs away slowly]
Tags: marmalard, Mike Carey, Mike Carey doesn't really have a son, Stealing Ape's shtick, Unsilent Majority
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:07 pm
Pray tell, what exactly does an evaporating dream deferred look like?
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:08 pm
/malice in heart
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:10 pm
“HEY, IT’S THAT BED-WETTING FUCKSTAIN THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT!”
‘Bout time someone put that fucking Junior in his place.
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:20 pm
It would be awesome if that’s how Laserface really talks.
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:21 pm
@310: it crusts and sugars over. Then it explodes. or it floats like a dust mite in the wake of one of Marmalard’s gentle breezes of a pass.
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:21 pm
@ 310: “what exactly does an evaporating dream deferred look like?”
Is that like when you are dreaming of banging a hot ass chick and right when it’s about to get good you wake up?
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:25 pm
“‘Bout time someone put that fucking Junior in his place.”
Yeah Junior, you and Ken Tremendous are assholes for shutting down FJM!
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:31 pm
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore and then run?
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:33 pm
I could imagine Maj typing up this skit on his own when suddenly Ape busts down his door and tells him to ask somebodaaaaaaaaaaaaaay.
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:34 pm
but seriously – the hat wearing bitches have decided to make 2008 “the season of the ref”
PLEASE.STOP.CALLING.SO.MANY.PENALTIES
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:34 pm
Maybe Carey could explain why when a running backs elbows and shoulders hit the ground, he’s down on the play and there is no fumble.
Or a better explanation is why he still has a job.
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:38 pm
I hate it when my dream is deferred by evaporation and all I’m left with is an aching boner.
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:54 pm
Slothrop beat me to it. Dreams deferred explode.
December 2nd, 2008 at 3:57 pm
@Rocco: It’s not? I always assumed these were documentaries.
December 2nd, 2008 at 4:24 pm
man bear pig, i concur
December 2nd, 2008 at 4:33 pm
Ya betta not ask somebodddddddaaaaaayyyyyyyy, as it will lead to a 7 part, 63-hour explanation of the illegal contact downfield rule.
December 2nd, 2008 at 5:07 pm
Quality UM, quality…
December 2nd, 2008 at 5:09 pm
this story made that much better by the fact that Carey actually resides in San Diego (no more than a few houses down the street from myself in fact)
December 2nd, 2008 at 5:17 pm
Holy shit that’s weird. Apparently Mike Carey is my dad – he likes to explain the shit out of things. And yes, my dad has called me Junior since I was little.
Also, the “dream deferred” line was superb.
December 2nd, 2008 at 5:17 pm
haha, mike carey rules, also he has a great name
December 2nd, 2008 at 5:18 pm
So…why aren’t you telling him to ask somebodddddaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy right now?
HMM?
December 2nd, 2008 at 5:22 pm
Laserface wishes he was back home in good ol’ boy country right about now I’m sure.
December 2nd, 2008 at 7:32 pm
“before it evaporates like a dream deferred”
is it Black History Month already?
December 2nd, 2008 at 7:57 pm
Carey didn’t go to UCSB…he ain’t no gaucho
December 2nd, 2008 at 8:08 pm
After Marmalard cracked the Cutlerfuck Conspiacy, he went to a parking garage to meet Deep Throat.
December 2nd, 2008 at 9:26 pm
The ending of this story was somewhat unsatisfying.
December 2nd, 2008 at 11:49 pm
LMAO at the picture of Rivers throwing the football. Maybe we should chnage his name from laserface to daintyface.
December 2nd, 2008 at 11:50 pm
Or Vaginaface. Yeah, Vaginaface is better.
December 3rd, 2008 at 1:08 am
Or maybe it just sags like a heavy load…
/memorized that shit for bonus points on a 9th grade English quiz
December 3rd, 2008 at 2:29 am
Laserface Vs. Cutlerfucker………………………………….Why cant more rivalries be this sophisticated?
December 3rd, 2008 at 3:46 am
i seriously think Rivers actually is this nuts…seriously. No I’m serious you Cutlerfuckers…
December 9th, 2008 at 11:31 pm
YAY! I swear to God I’ve been waiting all season to see you guys roast Mike Carey. Keep up the good work. We need a post on Primetime’s disco move when he signals the team at fault…maybe make a dance of it.