Wade: Well, I’ll be. Look at that!

(looks at self in full body mirror)

Wade, you old coot! You done dropped thirty pounds! Gall dangit, that is somethin’. Loooong overdue, I tell ya. I feel great! I’ve got much more energy, and my dang feet ain’t so sore at the end of the day.

I tell you what. When those players see the work I put into dropping this weight, they’ll be inspired to work their keesters off for this season. I think this is a great first step. And nothin’s gonna keep me from goin’ back to the way I was. No, siree. No chance of that happening.

(hears rumble)

What’s that sound?

(rumble grows stronger)

Uh oh…

Jerry: YEEEEEHAW!!!! YEEEEEEEHAW!!!! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAWWWWWWW! I’m fucking back, you silver-haired pile of fat shit! You fucking chubmouth! Whatcha starin’ in the mirror for, fatty? Looking for your balls? Well the Double J has owned those puppies since 2007! AND I AIN’T GIVIN’ ‘EM BACK!

Wade: Sir, I don’t think your fat jokes will work on me this time. Look at me! I dropped thirty pounds.

Jerry: Oh now, did you? Lost weight, eh? Got the ol’ Rex Ryan Fat Lasso around your bellybag?

Wade: Good ol’ fashioned diet and exercise, sir. No surgery.

Jerry: Well, that’s pretty impressive there, Tubby. Kinda. Maybe. A little. Aw hell, who am I kiddin’? YOU’RE JUST AS FAT AND GROSS AS YOU ALWAYS WERE, FATTY! Thirty pounds? That’s barely a drop in your fatbucket! What did you lose, a pussy fold? You lost one pussy fold, didn’t you? Only eight folds left in your fatty pussy now, Fatticus Finch?

Wade: Sir, I really think we should get back to concentrating on our minicamps.

Jerry: Nothing you do is mini, fatty. You’re so fat, I could have you replace Colorado in the Big 12 and no one would notice! We’d just call it, the Big 10, Plus One Really Big Fat Shit! They could have sociology class in your fatty pussy!

Wade: This completely inapprop…

Jerry: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP. Now listen, fatsauce. I admire you for droppin’ a few ell bees. Hell, the Double J could stand to lose a few hisself. Only exercise I git is when I’m fuckin’ Susan Skaggs TEN THOUSAND FEET HIGH! That woman LOVES getting’ a spur in her rectum, I’ll tell you that!

But I don’t know if I like YOU bein’ all Skinny Wade and shit. It could make you uppity. And that’s not gonna work for me, Fatass. THE DOUBLE J DON’T TAKE KINDLY TO UPPITYNESS! This is a big season ahead. I let you git away with that “we’re a young team” shit last year. But not this year! I GOT DEZ BRYANT IN THE DRAFT AND HE IS A GODDAMN STAR! You hear me? A STAR!

Wade: I know expectations will be higher, sir.

Jerry: GOD DAMN RIGHT THEY WILL BE! You will win me three Super Bowls this year, fatass!

Wade: But you can only win one Super Bowl in a given yea…

Jerry: THEY’RE PLAYING IT IN MY STADIUM AND IF I SAY I WANT THREE SUPER BOWL TROPHIES THIS YEAR YOUR FAT ASS WILL GIT ‘EM FOR ME! You understand, Gunty?

You listen to me and you listen good. Nothing is gonna stop me from gettin’ us a home Super Bowl this year. YOU INCLUDED. I need to make sure every part of this organization remains firmly under my boot. Especially all that luscious cheerleader pussy gravy! I can’t have you gettin’ all skinny and independent. I need you FAT! And insecure! And desperate to please me!

Wade: I won’t get fat again.

Jerry: Oh, really? I believe these Oreo Cakesters here might beg to differ!

(brings out the Cakesters)

Wade: Cakesters?

Jerry: Take a good look, fatass. I got black ones and I got blonde ones. You could have them together. It’s the kind of interracial cream pie Irvin talks about every GODDAMN day. I have boxes of these strategically placed all along the office. You won’t be able to piss without a tempting box of moon pies undressed and ready for your slobbering tongue!

Wade: That’s downright cruel, sir.

Jerry: I ain’t done yet! You smell that air?

Wade: (sniffs) Yes. Smells like hickory smoke, sir.

Jerry: REAL hickory smoke. I got fresh brisket and pigs roasting in a pit right below this very office. And the smoke vents right here! By your desk! Now tell me you can resist that all sweet, succulent little piggy, BIG PIGGY! Tasty cracklins. Meat that pulls right off the bone. ARE YOU HUNGRY YET, BIG PIGGY? I THINK YOU ARE!

Wade: (eats rice cake) No, sir. You’re gonna have to do better than that.

(door flies open)

Garrett: Hmm. Yes. Indeed. It seems our portly fellow here has deprived himself of a good EATING in quite some time! Oh, how my Eating Club companions will be so disappointed in you, good sir.

(opens doggie bag)

For it seems they were not able to eat the last of my wife Muffin’s world famous BEEF WELLINGTON! They assumed you’d make a fine trash receptacle for it. Oh, what a shame that I’ll have to bestow a treat such as this one upon one of our many Negro custodial workers. They never appreciate such gifts as much as you think they would! And they never TOUCH the horseradish sauce!

Wade: You dirty snake!

Garrett: Now now, good sir. Our esteemed owner here is right to want to keep you, shall we say, larger than life? Larger than most things, I imagine! For only with you at your corpulent best will people finally be able to see that a Jason Garrett Princeton offense shall be the deemed the most sophisticated of all NFL offenses! Oh, the sophistication! My pass patterns shall walk the runways in Milan! I shall mold Dez Bryant into another Sam Hurd yet!

Wade: This is wrong! This is evil! You people should be happy for me! Not trying to push me off the wagon!

Garrett: Oh! Oh! Did someone say wagon?

(bells ring)

FOR I DO BELIEVE THAT IS OUR VERY OWN CHUCK WAGON APPROACHING!

(door run over by half dozen angry horses)

MBIII: JERRY FUCKING JONES! JERRY FUCKING JONES, YOU MOTHERFUCKING MOTHERCOCKSUCKER!

Jerry: Ah, Marion! Just in time with the chuck wagon!

MBIII: YOU PIECE OF SHIT! MARION BARBER WILL FUCKING TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB FOR MAKING HIS ASS DRIVE A GODDAMN CHUCK WAGON! SHIT AIN’T DIGNIFIED!

Wade: They’re making you drive a chuck wagon, Marion?

MBIII: YES GOD DAMMIT! WHAT DO YOU WANT? WE HAVE MOTHERFUCKING RIBS. MOTHERFUCKING BEANS. MOTHERFUCKING BRUNSWICK STEW. BUT DON’T ASK FOR MOTHERFUCKING BISCUITS. I’M NOT MAKING YOU FRESH BISCUITS, ASSHOLE!

Wade: Well actually, I’ve been losing weight.

MBIII: WELL LOSE MORE, BECAUSE YOU’RE STILL FUCKING FAT, COACH.

Wade: Yes, sir.

Jerry: What do you think, Cinnabutt? This whole chuck wagon is full of fresh, delicious food. AND I put the fixin’s bar right outside your door! Can you smell all that goodness? Just take it in there, Tubby! It’s all waiting to looooove you!

Wade: No, sir. You can keep that chuck wagon right here for as long as you like, but I ain’t tempted. I’m stronger than you think I am. Now that I know how it feels to eat right and be healthy, nothing you say or do can make me go back. I’m not here for you, sir. I’m here for the players. I’m here to show them that some people aren’t lost causes. That someone like me, who’s been fat his whole life, can still turn things around. That’s gonna serve our team well. They’ll know it’s never too late to give up on yourself. And I’m gonna keep preachin’ it and livin’ it.

Jerry: Well, well, well. Aren’t you Mister high and mighty now! All up on your perch of healthy livin’! No chuck wagon for me! No pussy pie for ol’ Wade! He’s too DIGNIFIED for that sort of thing! Well, you listen here, Dr. Blubber. You may be all strong and willpowery now. But I’mma leave this chuck wagon here. And one night, you’re gonna be up late helpin’ make my boy Dez Bryant a GODDAMN STAR, and you’ll smell that brisket and you’ll say to yourself, Hell I earned this! And then you’ll have one little bitty teeny tiny taste. JUST A DROP. And that’s all it’ll take for the floodgates to open and BIG FUCKING CHUBTARD WADE TO COME SLITHERING BACK OUT!

Wade: Never!

Jerry: Wanna bet? BRING IN THE CHILI!

Pacman: CHUH CHUH. Sumbuddy up n diz bitch call fo some Skyline? Pacman got dat sheet 4 u. He kno he in Ohigho an shit now, but he bring dat chilli. O FUKK YEZ, HE DO. He gon shine. He gon fill dat puzzy up wit da chili till it b a sloppee jo. THEN HE GON CHOW DOWN. Pacman down wid it. And Pacman gon drank. O HE GON DRANK. U thank he ain’t gon drank? PACMAN SAY AIN’T NO DRANK DRANK TILL A BITCH GET A JALAPENO IN DAT AZZHOLE.

Wade: This sucks.

Jerry: YEEEEHAWWWW YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO RESIST MY CHUCK WAGON, FATASS! SOON, YOU’LL BE FAT AGAIN AND I’LL HAVE YOUR SWEATY FAT ASS WRAPPED AROUND MY FINGER! NOW EAT THOSE CAKESTERS, TUBBY! EAT EAT EAT! YEEEHAWWWW GOD DAMMIT I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!