In an effort to regain control of his team, Bengals coach Marvin Lewis decides to take the drastic step of bringing volatile wideout Chad Ochocinco into his home in a spirited attempt to get the two men to understand one another.

Marvin: Hey, Chad! Chad! Get down here! We got minicamp! Let’s go! Practice bubble in fifteen!

Ocho: Comin’, Coach! Comin’! Coach, yo coach. They have my new practice jersey ready?

Marvin: What new practice jersey?

Ocho: I didn’t tell you? Okay, Coach. You gon wanna sit for this. Because this is some real shit.

Marvin: I think I’ll stand. Just tell me the deal.

Ocho: I am no longer Chad Ocho Cinco.

Marvin: I never really called you that anyway.

Ocho: I am now Chad Ochocinco.

Marvin: That’s the same name.

Ocho: Au Con Air, Coach. You have to listen. Before, I was Chad Ocho Cinco. Now, I am Chad Ochocinco. See how much faster that is? How much more aerodynamic? I figure that can take at least two tenths of a second off my forty time. Nuh what I mean?

Marvin: No.

Ocho: And that space in the name… that always bothered me. I didn’t like having that space between the Ocho and the Cinco. You never know what someone will do with that space. They could put a chair there.

Marvin: No, they couldn’t.

Ocho: Yes, they could. They could put a very small chair there.

Marvin: No, they couldn’t. A space between two words is not the same as the physical space between, say, you and I.

Ocho: Yeah. But you don’t know that.

Marvin: Yes, I do.

Ocho: No, you don’t! That’s a space that was in there, right? That space was open. Anyone could just park their ass right in that space. This closes that shit right up. Makes me feel more secure. You can’t get between Ocho and Cinco now. They’re Siamese twin words. They’re married.

Marvin: Okay, the space between two words is a typographical space. It’s on a two-dimensional page. It’s not an actual portion of space you can use to place objects or throw parties, or anything like that.

Ocho: BULLSHIT. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve heard about ID theft, man. What do they always say? Somebody stole my credit card and bought 100 pairs of shoes IN MY NAME. Well, how do you think they got into that name to begin with? The guy probably had one of those double names, like Billy Joe Tolliver and shit. People get in that space, and then they fuck around.

I haven’t even mentioned the fact that that space could be outer space. That’s a vacuum. That’s dangerous.

Marvin: There is no outer space in that space.

Ocho: No? Then how come, when I’m playing DOOM on my computer, I have to press the SPACE BAR to continue playing? You see how that works? You press the SPACE bar, and then you go back into space. This is some Stephen Hawkeye shit, Coach. No one really thinks about this stuff.

Marvin: That’s because it’s retarded. You haven’t listened to anything I’ve just said.

Ocho: I was listening, Coach! But just because I listen doesn’t mean I have to OBEY you and shit. I listened, and then I respectfully disagreed. Because I’ve seen aliens before, Coach.

Marvin: Oh, Jesus.

Ocho: I have! You know what they look like? Okay, you’re gon think I’m crazy. But here is what they look like.

Marvin: That’s a mouse.

Ocho: Is it? Or is it The Predator… in his day clothes?!

Marvin: It’s a mouse. It’s not from space.

Ocho: Yeah, but it COULD be.

Marvin: No, it couldn’t.

Ocho: Yes, it could.

Marvin: No, it couldn’t.

Ocho: Yes, it could.

Marvin: No, it couldn’t.

Ocho: Yes, it could! You don’t really KNOW where mice come from, do you? How do you know they weren’t brought in from space? YOU DON’T! How do you know when little Jed here goes NIBBLE NIBBLE NIBBLE, that that’s not some kind of alien code? He could be saying to the mother spaceship YO THERE ARE LOTS OF WHITE PEOPLE DOWN HERE AND THEY CRAZY. How do you know he’s NOT doing that?

Marvin: Because he isn’t. He’s a fucking mouse. Mice are from Earth. They can’t build spaceships. They aren’t intelligent enough.

Ocho: Oh, no? LOOK AT THIS!

Tell me that frog isn’t some kind of spaceship. (sings) FROG SHIP! THE SPACESHIP THAT’S A FROG! DUN DUN DUN! FROG SHIP!

Marvin: It’s not a spaceship. It’s a fucking frog. It has nothing to do with space. All mice and frogs are earth-based species.

Ocho: Well, let me ask you something… is the moon NOT made of cheese?

Marvin: No. The moon is made of rock.

Ocho: Well, let me ask you THIS: Does the name Mickey Mouse NOT have a space in it?

Marvin: Yes, it has a space in it.

Ocho: I rest my case.

Marvin: HOLY SHIT. YOU FUCKING STUPID ASS. I AM TRYING TO GET YOU OUT THE DOOR SO WE CAN HOLD A BASIC OFFSEASON WORKOUT. AND YET HERE I AM AGAIN, SITTING WITH YOU IN MY FUCKING HOUSE TRYING TO CONVINCE YOU THAT FUCKING MICE AREN’T FROM FUCKING SPACE. DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF? DO YOU ACTUALLY HEAR THE BLITHERINGLY SHITHEADED LOGIC SPEWING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH?

YOU COULD SHIT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH. LITERALLY. YOU COULD EJECT FECAL MATTER FROM YOUR ORAL CAVITY AND IT WOULD BE MORE VALUABLE THAN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY SAY. THAT’S HOW FUCKING STUPID YOU ARE.

Ocho: I heard aliens can do that.

Marvin: GOOD FUCKING GOD. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK MICE ARE ALIENS, OR THAT A SPACE BAR ACTS AS A GODDAMN WORMHOLE? ARE YOU ABLE TO PROCESS INFORMATION IN ANY SORT OF NORMAL FASHION? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?

Ocho: See, I think we should talk to Ray Lewis about this. He’s stabbed mice before, so he’d know if there was space cheese inside them.

Marvin: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

Tags: aliens, Big Daddy Drew, cheese, frogs, mice, ocho and marvin, space

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