Wade: Oh boy. Oh, gosh darnit. Oh, fiddlegabbers! Can’t believe we lost to those pesky Vikings.

Well, ol’ Wade ain’t one to panic. I’ve seen this team’s heart, and gosh dangit if they’re aren’t the finest 1-4 team in the NFL right now! All we have to do is stop committing penalties, stop turning the ball over, stop allowing big kickoff returns, and stop having a bad offensive line! HOW HARD CAN THAT BE?

I feel a turnaround coming. I really do. I think if we work hard enough, we can find a way to…

(door flies open)

Jerry: FATASS! FATASS! YOU FUCKING FAT ASS! YOUR ASS IS FAT AND I FUCKING HATE YOU!

Wade: Please, sir. Calm down.

Jerry: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, FAT KING JOWL! This was supposed to be our fucking year, you fat shithead! The Super Bowl is being played IN THE DOUBLE J’S CROWN FUCKING JEWEL! Ohhhh, you fucking IDIOT! I had parties planned! I had boats rented! I was going to take Susan Skaggs out onto the lake and dig into her pussy like a Chilean mine! AND YOU AND YOUR FAT FUCKING FACE HAVE RUINED IT!

Wade: Sir, I think we can turn this around if we simply keep a level head and work on correctin…

Jerry: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! No one wants to hear what you have to say, Chubb Rubb! No one hears any words coming out of your fat hole. All anyone sees is two massive, fatty lips flapping like a hooker’s snatch! God, I hate your fat face so much right now, I just want to tie you down and beat you with a bag of soap!

Wade: You are way out of line, sir.

Jerry: You listen to me, Guntface. YOU ARE FUCKING FIRED. I brought you in here to execute my vision! And oh, what a vision it was. Super Bowl titles! Effusive reviews from architectural critics! A growing fan base in Hong Kong! EATING SHRIMP COCKTAIL BETWEEN A CHEERLEADER’S TITS! It shouldn’t have been that hard to execute!

Wade: Sir, nothing is ever easy when you’re trying to…

Jerry: Stop talking! No one cares what a fat person has to say. They shouldn’t even be allowed to vote. You may as well eat that disgusting mouth of yours, because it serves no other purpose. You should be in JAIL for being so fucking grossly obese. I HATE YOU! I GAVE YOU STARS! Didn’t I tell you my boy Romo was a star?

Wade: Well, I think you may have…

Jerry: HE’S A FUCKING STAR! He’s a great, big shining star with a massive cock for a little Mexican boy! And what about Dez Bryant? DID I NOT SAY THAT HE WOULD BE A FUCKING STAR IN THIS LEAGUE?

Wade: Well, I think you might have said…

Jerry: HE’S A FUCKING STAR IN THIS LEAGUE! I gave you all the ingredients, and you baked me a fucking jizzcake! You are so fucking fired!

Wade: Sir, I think that perhaps your anger at me is actually a manifestation of the frustration you may be feeling at how you yourself do business around here.

Jerry: Come again, Fatsauce?

Wade: I think you just might need to look in the mirror and accept some of the blame here.

Jerry: You know what I see when I look in the mirror, jelly rolls? I SEE A FIVE-STAR HOOKER ON HER KNEES GIVING ME THE SERVICING THAT I SO RICHLY DESERVE BECAUSE I AM THIN AND I RUN THIS FUCKING TOWN. You, on the other hand, are a fucking failure! You’re a failure as a coach, as a man, as a Weight Watchers program member, and as a father! THE WORLD WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER OFF WITHOUT EVER EXISTING!

Wade: (starts to cry)

Jerry: Oh, Jesus. You’re not crying again on me, are you? Nothing sadder than a fat man crying.

Wade: I’m doin’ my best, sir. That’s all I can tell you. Maybe it’s not showing up on the field, but I’m doing my best. Maybe you DO need to bring in someone who can whip these boys into shape. I ain’t the yellin’ and screamin’ type. I’m just one to work hard and give everyone else credit when things go good. If that ain’t good enough, then it ain’t. I didn’t mean to ruin your season. Honest.

Jerry: Eh, shit.

(hands him a hanky)

Jerry: Quit crying. And have your tear ducts removed, like I did. Misting your eyes every five seconds is worth not looking like a fucking pussy. Look, I know you’re workin’ hard. You know how fond I am of you. Well, not of YOU, personally. You’re fat and stupid. But I sure like having someone to poke with the pokin’ stick! Parcells NEVER let me use it!

Wade: So I’m not fired?

Jerry: Of course you’re fucking fired. All I need is to find a suitable interim coach. Shouldn’t be that hard, given the standard you’ve set, Chocolate Bunny.

(door flies open)

Garrett: Mmmm. Yes. Indeed. And I know just the fellow for the job!

Wade: You dirty snake!

Garrett: My dear boy, surely you knew you were never cut out for this position. I think we all know that you were merely a placeholder. Someone to warm my seat. And what a fine job you do warming seats! Dante himself could not envision such thermal capabilities!

Fear not, Jerry. I’ve been waiting for this day for a very, very long time. A position of this sort is in the GARRETT BLOOD. We were born for rule, good sir. That was what they taught us at my Eating Club. We didn’t merely eat lavish foods such as pate and shark fin stew and shaved Negro agnolotti. No, no. We also ate LEADERSHIP. We masticated upon its every nuance! We digested bravery! And feasted upon gumption! Oh, what a fine eating it was!

Now, let me lay out for you a very special 27-year plan for this organization that includes no less than TWO DOZEN TITLES FOR YOUR TROPHY PARLOR. Nothing makes a home like a fine trophy parlor!

(opens up massive Powerpoint deck)

As you can see, I’ve scripted the first 45,893 plays of the Jason Garrett Era, heretofore known to all as the reign of Garrett I. Each of these plays was designed using a special, proprietary Garrettmetric formula that takes the learnings of Gregg Easterbrook and advances it at least three quantums!

(clicks to first play, which is a swing pass to Felix Jones)

SWING PASSES TO FELIX JONES, SIR! EACH ONE MORE DEVASTATING THAN THE LAST! It minimizes risk while maximizing explosivity derivatives. And just when they’ve figured out our complex set of Felix Jones swing passes, we hit them with NAKED BUBBLE SCREENS TO DEZ BRYANT! No one ever expects a screen pass that fails to deploy blockers in front of the pass recipient. THAT’S THE GENIUS OF IT. And when Dez and Felix retire, fear not! For I know a couple of rather talented brothers who are Princeton legacies who have already absorbed this offense! Their names are Wesley and Worthington Cavendishwell, and I fully expect them to be available to us at a steal in the seventh round in 2023. That is how far a Garrett sees ahead. To the breeding stage!

Well? Well? Are you ready to begin a new era with me, Jerry?

Jerry: You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?

Garrett: Uff, uff, uff… harumphy… Are you rejecting me? YOU? A common Arkansasan? Well, I won’t have such indolence!

Jerry: These plays are the same shit you’ve been giving me all year!

Garrett: That’s why they’ll succeed, good sir! Once people think we’re about to do away with them, we redouble our efforts!

Jerry: Holy shit, you are awful. FUCK! I can’t hire you. There’s just no way. I have to find someone else to hire.

(door flies open)

Judd: Did I understand there is a position of considerable standing to be gleaned in this organization? Now? At this very minute?

Garrett: Brother!

Judd: Brother!

Garrett: What a fabulous surprise!

Judd: Will you be joining us for Christmas in New Canaan?

Garrett: Only if Muffin makes her signature raspberry thumbprints!

Judd: Indeed she will!

Garrett: What a fine eating that would be!

Judd: Ha ha ha!

Garrett: Ha ha ha!

Judd: Ha ha ha!

Garrett: Ha ha ha!

Judd: Ha ha ha!

Garrett: Ha ha ha!

Judd: Say, dear brother. Do you what I would do if I were to replace the appalling submersible currently lording over us?

Garrett: What?

Judd: Equestrian. Train our players in proper equestrian. They’ll learn balance! Discipline! And elegance! WHO WOULD SAY NEIGH TO SUCH A TECHNIQUE? The Garret Junta may yet prevail!

Jerry: Jesus, I can’t hire him either.

Wade: Looks like you’re stuck with me, sir.

Jerry: NOT SO FAST! I can hire our defensive coordinator.

Wade: That’s me. I do that.

Jerry: You do? How are you so good at that and so fucking shitty at everything else, King Ralph?

Wade: Beats me.

(door crumpled into very small ball and cast aside)

MBIII: JERRY FUCKING JONES! JERRY FUCKING JONES, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!

Jerry: Marion! Marion, dear friend! Did you see how my boy Felix caught all those passes?

MBIII: MOTHERFUCKING DINK AND DYKE BULLSHIT, JERRY JONES! MARION BARBER IS THE FUCKING RECKONING! IF YOU NEED A YARD, MOTHERFUCKING MARION BARBER GET YOU A YARD! AND IF YOU NEED TWO YARDS, MARION FUCKING BARBER GET YOU TWO YARDS AND A GALLON OF TIT MILK! Y’ALL CAN’T LEAD THIS TEAM FOR SHIT! YOU RUN WHEN YOU SHOULD RUN AND RUN WHEN YOU SHOULD PASS! AND MOTHERFUCKERS NEVER GET FINED FOR PENALTIES UP IN THIS BITCH!

Jerry: Those are all good points.

MBIII: MOTHERFUCKING RIGHT THEY ARE. GET THIS SHIT RIGHT AND WE’LL SMOKE SOME MOTHERFUCKERS!

Jerry: I think I’ve found our new coach.

Garrett: Surely, you jest! A player? From the dark continent? With tousled hair? He violates every dress code at Le Cirque!

Jerry: (gets on knees) Marion, I know I’ve been bad to you. I’ve locked you in closets. I tried trading you to San Diego even though I said I didn’t.

MBIII: I COULD HAVE GONE TO SAN DIEGO? MOTHERFUCKING FISH TACOS!

Jerry: I know! I know! But here I am, on my knees, asking for your forgiveness. I done you wrong, Marion. I need you. This team needs you. This whole town needs you, because it really doesn’t give that much of a shit about the Rangers. Please. Lead us. Show us the way. You know it’s the right thing to do. Be the coach we never had. Help us turn it all around. Do it, Marion. Do it for me. Will you?

MBIII: (thinks it over)

Jerry: Well?

MBIII: MOTHERFUCK YOU, JERRY JONES.

(leaves)

Jerry: Shit! Who else will I get now?!

(door flies open)

Pacman: CHUH CHUH. Pacman gon git hisself big settulment frum Cinzy five-oh fo dat traffik stop. Pacamn gon shine. He gon plant dat azz till it grow. Den he gon drank. O HE GON DRANK. U THANK HE AIN’T GON DRANK? Pacman say ain’t no drank drank till the hunny cummin’ out yo azz. BULLEE DAT.

Jerry: Are you here for the coaching job?

Pacman: Job?

Jerry: FUCK. Fine, fine. You can stay as head coach, Tubby.

Wade: Cool.

Jerry: But I’m firing you at the end of the year.

Wade: I know.

Jerry: AND I’M HIRING SOMEONE GOOD LIKE BOBBY PETRINO! THAT BOY IS A STAR! THESE COWBOYS WILL FUCKING RIDE AGAIN!!! YEEEEHAWWW WOOOHOOO I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!