Wade: Gosh dangit. We had to go and ruin a perfectly good four-game winnin’ streak by strollin’ into Green Bay and layin’ a darn egg! Ugh.
Well, guess I better get to work. We got those pesky Redskins comin’ in this week, and I know darn well they’ll be loaded for bear. I better study some tape. Except… aw hell, no one around. No need to get cracking just YET. Lemme just play one game of solitaire. Helps sharpen the ol’ noggin.
(opens up solitaire game)
Oh, that’s a lousy draw.
(resets the game 50 times)
Ah, much better. Now, to just drag these three aces up to the top…
(door flies open)
Jerry: YEEEEEHAW!!!! YEEEEEEEHAW!!!! YEE! HAW! DOUBLE GODDAMN YEEHAW! WELCOME TO THE JERRYDOME, FAT POWER!
Wade: Oh, crap.
Jerry: What you got there, Tubby? Little bit of solitaire? Ah, solitaire. OFFICIAL GAME OF FAT CRAPS THE WORLD OVER!
Wade: I just had this open as a goof, sir. I’m getting right to work. Honest.
Jerry: Oh, save it, Tubby. You just go right ahead playing your little game.
Wade: You mean, you aren’t mad? What’s going on? Why aren’t there horns comin’ out of your head? We got killed on Sunday.
Jerry: Haven’t you heard, lard shark? THIS IS THE NEW GODDAMN DOUBLE J! They said I couldn’t be patient! They said I’d kick your flabby ass to the curb the second things went wrong! BUT I’M NOT! AND YOU KNOW WHY?
Wade: Because stability is good for a football team?
Jerry: BAHAHAHAHAHAHA. No, no. Stability is for children and faggots! No, the reason I’m keeping you around is because, if I fire you now, I don’t get to fire you LATER! And firing you later is gonna be sooo much better, chubtard! I can hardly wait! I AM GONNA FIRE THE SHIT OUT OF YOU! I’m gonna sneak up behind you and ZAP YOUR FAT STEER HIDE WITH A GODDAMN CATTLE PROD!
Jerry: Now you listen to me, Fatass. You are my puppet. My big, fat, mushy puppet. And for the rest of the year, I’m gonna have my three-ringed hand right up your endless ass! You see that phone over there?
(points to giant red phone with two big J’s painted on it)
Jerry: That’s your new Jerryline, you fat shit. Anytime that phone rings, you better pick it up. And you better do exactly what I say! OR ELSE I’LL FIRE YOUR ASS FOR CAUSE! If you want to see the balance of your contract, you better do EVERY GODDAMN THING I SAY! And I know you got a daughter who acts, so YOU NEED THE DOUBLE J’S CASH!
Wade: Sir, this hardly seems necessary…
Jerry: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! You’re gonna get your fat on me! You just answer that goddamn phone any time I tell you to! AND IT MIGHT RING AT ANY TIME, SO YOU BETTER HAVE YOUR FAT ASS IN HERE ALL DAY AND NIGHT!
Wade: But who will run practice if I have to stay in the office all day long?
(door flies open)
Garrett: Hmm. Yes. Indeed. Methinks my portly companion here doth protest too much. Also, he doth EAT too much!
Jerry: BAHAHAHAHA! Good one, Princeton Boy!
Wade: Oh, shut up, you big jerk.
Garrett: Calm down, my good man. You just stay here in your little suite. I have a game plan that will make those little Redskins cower in fear! Do you know the secret? GOAL LINE PASSES! GOAL LINE PASS AFTER GOAL LINE PASS, AND ONLY TO OUR WORST RECEIVERS! They’ll never see it coming! And then, my good friend Jerry and I shall have a fine EATING. Would you like that, sir? We shall dine on scallops, and pumpkin soup, and other refined foods that would never cross the visage of Melville’s creation over yonder. OH, WHAT A FINE EATING IT SHALL BE!
Jerry: Good idea, Jason!
Wade: This is ridiculous. I can’t be expected to…
Wade: What the? (picks up) Hello?
Jerry: (on cell phone) YOU’LL DO AS WE SAY, BEARCLAW!
Wade: Oh, for Pete’s sake.
(door explodes into pieces, whose pieces then explode individually)
MBIII: JASON GARRETT! JASON MOTHERFUCKING GARRETT! WHERE’S THAT MOTHERFUCKING RED ASS HONKY?
Garrett: Oh, Marion! My dear friend! Will you be joining us for bruschetta and other fineries?
MBIII: BRUSCHETTA THIS, MOTHERFUCKER!
(puts Garrett in choke hold)
Garrett: Marion, I can’t breathe!
MBIII: I GOT A POP QUIZ FOR YOUR ASS, HONKY. HOW MANY TIMES DID MARION BARBER GET THE BALL ON SUNDAY?
Garrett: Oh, well I’m not quite sure. You see, my game plans are often so intricate, it can take hours of film study to discern…
MBIII: (chokes harder) FIVE! FIVE MOTHERFUCKING TIMES, YOU MOTHERFUCKING RETARD! WHO THE FUCK KEEPS THE BARBARIAN IN A CAGE?
Wade: Heh heh. Choke on THAT!
MBIII: SHUT UP, FATASS!
Wade: Yes, sir.
Jerry: Marion, what I think my boy JASON is telling you is that he has every intention of getting you the ball. Isn’t that right, Jason?
MBIII: Y’ALL BETTER GET MARION BARBER THE MOTHERFUCKING BALL. OR I WILL BURN YOUR WHITE ASS TILL IT’S BLACKER THAN MY ANCESTORS! DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY MOTHERFUCKING MOUTH?
Jerry: Yes! Yes, we do! In fact, we now have a system in place to ensure my boy ROMO gets you the ball! Watch! (calls Jerryline)
Jerry: (on the phone) GIVE THE BALL TO BARBER, FATTY ICE!
Wade: Oh, for Pete’s sake.
MBIII: YOU BETTER CALL THAT MOTHERFUCKING PHONE 25 TIMES A GAME, JERRY JONES! YOU BETTER CALL MARION BARBER’S NUMBER, OR ELSE MARION BARBER WILL TEAR OUT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING TONGUE AND PUT HIS FOOT THROUGH YOUR MOUTH AND OUT YOUR FUCKING ASSHOLE!
Jerry: You heard the man! You sit by that phone all day, you fat cunt!
Wade: Oh, god dammit.
Wade: What the?
Jerry: Well, PICK IT UP, FATTERLINE!
(Wade picks up phone)
Pacman: CHUH CHUH. Iz diz da place I call fo da puzzy? Pacman need sum puzzy. BULLEE DAT. He gon shine. He gon smack dat puzzy till it luuk lik a dik. AND HE GON DRANK…
Wade: (hangs up) This sucks.
Jerry: YEEEEHAWWWW YOU BETTER ANSWER THAT PHONE, PIZZA BOY! OR ELSE YOU’LL BE COACHING GIRL’S VOLLEYBALL BY NEXT WEEK! WOOHOO! YEEHAW! GOD DAMN, YOU ARE FATTER THAN THE SUN! HOT DIGGITY GOD DAMN, I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!!!
I want more like this!
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