86300603JM021_NEW_YORK_JETS

Mark Sanchez: I think it’s awfully gracious of you to come back and pay us a visit, Coach Dungy.

Tony Dungy: Yes, well it certainly wasn’t my first choice. As I recall, I was not treated with a great deal of respect the last time I was here. But I’m a professional, young Mr. Sanchez. NBC is covering this game, and so it’s my duty to them to visit both teams from Saturday evening’s game, regardless of how odious I may think one of them is. You and your teammates could learn from my tolerance.

Sanchez: I’m sure, Sir.

Dungy: But know this: If I see anything out of the ordinary at this facility, it will be my duty as a journalist to relay those misgivings to the American people. They deserve to know the truth about Coach Ryan and his… antics.

Sanchez: Well, I can assure you there’s no funny business going on here, sir. We’re all football, all the time.

Dungy: Really? No amateur videos of a sexual nature?

Sanchez: No, sir.

Dungy: No “swingers clubs”? No bizarre foot fixations?

Sanchez: No, sir.

Dungy: I suppose I’ll take your word for it.

(walks by Coach Ryan’s office)

Excuse me, young man. But if you don’t mind, I need to go in here for a moment to make a phone call.

Sanchez: Coach Ryan’s office?

Dungy: Oh, is it HIS office? I wasn’t aware.

Sanchez: I don’t know that he’ll like it.

Dungy: Oh, pish posh. I merely need to call my wife to tell her our Study of Bible Study class has been delayed. Do YOU attend Bible Study?

Sanchez: Well, I uh…

Dungy: You need to attend your Bible study. I’ve been studying Bible Study and studies show that those engaged in Bible study are 57% more studious than the average student. Did you know that?

Sanchez: Uh…

Dungy: I’ll be just a moment.

(goes into Ryan’s office, locks the door)

WHERE IS IT?! WHERE IS IT?!

(opens Ryan’s desk drawer)

The game plan! The game plan must be here somewhere! What is this?

Oh, goodness gracious. Oh heavens!

(gets on cell phone)

Dungy: Jim? JIM! Are you there, Jim?!

Dungy: Speak, Jim! I need you to speak for once!

Dungy: Just… BREATHE or something.

Jim Caldwell: (exhales loudly)

Dungy: Good. I am inside the Devil’s Belly. Do you understand me?

Caldwell: (exhales loudly)

Dungy: I cannot find the game plan. All I can find is… Oh, good Lord.

Dungy: These people are even more depraved and disgusting than I first thought! The sooner I get out of here… WAIT! I found it! Jim! Jim, are you still there?

Dungy: Yes Jim, it’s real! There’s no doubt in mind! THIS is the game plan! “Show blitz… back off into seven DB’s.” Ha ha! Peyton will pick them apart! I shall send it immediately. THE RIGHT TEAM WILL WIN ON SATURDAY NIGHT. OF THAT I AM CERTAIN. Gregg Easterbrook will be thrilled, indeed.

(takes out cell phone, sends text of game plan)

America must know that a team of strong character and upstanding morals always wins out against a group of barbarous sinners. WE SHALL PREVAIL!

(ground starts shaking)

Dungy: Oh, no. Jim, I have to go.

Caldwell: (exhales loudly)

Dungy: Yes I’ll meet you for breakfast tommorow GOODBYE.

(hangs up, shoves everything back in desk, tosses cell phone onto couch)

(door flies open)

rex4

Ryan: HOW THE FU… What the fuck are you doing in here?

Dungy: Ah, Coach Ryan. I was merely sitting here waiting to interview you for NBC. Certainly nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all!

Ryan: Well, I appreciate the gesture, Dunge. But my boys need to be prepared to beat the living fuck out of your altar boys. And I just took a shit that had its own gravitational pull. So if you don’t mind…

Dungy: Ah, but I‘m afraid the League does mandate that you cooperate with your network broadcasting team, does it not? Please. Indulge me.

Ryan: Fine. Ask what you need to ask and then get the fuck back to your mountaintop.

Dungy: I guess my first question would be, how do you game plan again… WHY DO YOU FEEL COMPELLED TO DESTROY THE VALUES OF A LEAGUE THAT MANY GOOD CHRISTIAN MEN SOUGHT TO ESTABLISH AS A BEACON OF LIGHT AND ETHICAL GOODNESS IN A WORLD OF DARKNESS AND SHADY MOTIVES?

Ryan: Kiss the top of my ass. Does that answer your question? My job is to win games, not be Michael fucking Landon.

Dungy: You are an ambassador of sport and your city. And yet you gallivant around swearing and showing off naked pictures of your wife’s va… Oh God… I can’t even get it out…

Ryan: Vagina. The word is vagina. Made by your buddy God, by the way.

Dungy: Not for public display!

Ryan: You piss off. That was a private matter, okay? I love my wife’s vagina. My wife’s vagina is AWESOME. Just last night, I was tucking it in and telling it ghost stories. And whatever and a man his wife’s vagina and 70,000 people watching online at home want to do in the privacy of their respective homes or office cubicles, that is THEIR business. Not yours.

Dungy: And the sideline tripping? And the group drinking? And the bizarre fruit snacks?

Ryan: Fruit snacks? Have you been going through my desk?

Dungy: No.

Ryan: You have! You devious little fuckball! You had no right to do that!

(sees Dungy’s cell phone lying on the couch)

Two can play that game, pencil dick!

(lunges for phone)

Dungy: NO!

(lunges for phone)

Ryan: GET OFF OF ME!

Dungy: Let go of that phone!

Ryan: YOU’RE GETTING YOUR JESUS FUMES ALL OVER ME!

Dungy: LET GO!

Ryan: No!

(wrests phone away)

Ryan: Now, what was it that you were so very protective of when it came to this phone?

Dungy: None of your beeswax.

Ryan: Is your password JESUSSAVES? It is! That was easy!

Dungy: You gimme that phone back!

Ryan: WHOA!

Well well well! Looks like I’m not the only asshole here with a fetish or two!

Dungy: THOSE ARE FOR A STUDY.

Ryan: I bet they are. You listen to me, Dunge. You get the fuck out of here, and you leave my team alone. Or else the next thing “ihaveprettyfeet” posts to her homepage is your personal library!

Dungy: You wouldn’t.

Ryan: I would. NOW FUCK OFF!

Dungy: You won’t get away with this! THE SIDE OF GOD IS ALWAYS THE WINNING SIDE IN THE END!

(disappears in puff of black smoke)

(cut to locker room)

Ryan: Men, I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is we got spied on.

Everyone: (gasps)

Ryan: But the good news is ol’ Rex KNEW this would happen, which is why I put a fake game plan in my desk. Those white cunts think we’re gonna sit back all day. BUT WE AREN’T! WE’RE GONNA ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK! ATTACK! ARE YOU WITH ME?!

Everyone: Yes!

(door flies open)

Delivery Man: Did someone order a footlong sub?

Ryan: That’s me. Exactly one foot long, yes?

Delivery Man: Yes.

Ryan: Filled with chicken toes?

Delivery Man: Chicken fingers.

Ryan: I call them chicken toes. Bear with me. God, that smells so good. I just wanna take it back to a motel right now and bury my dick in it. MEN! Listen up! I am gonna make sweet foot love to this sandwich momentarily, but first, I want to tell you something. I am just a man. I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. I like feet. Sweet, soft, lovely feet. Coated in sperm and rubbed until they’re all hot and sticky… BUT I DIGRESS. I am a flawed man. As you are all flawed men. Especially you, Nacho. You’re kinda shitty.

Sanchez: Yes, sir.

Ryan: But there is one thing in the world that makes me FEEL perfect. There’s one thing I can do each and every week to make me fee l like something more than the flawed and goofy fellow I know I really am. And that is FUCKING WIN. That’s why we play, gentlemen. That’s why we bust our nuts every goddamn week to get to this point. So we can go out there, kick those pansy ass Colts all over the place, and in the end say, “You know what? I’m not perfect. But for one day, I was fucking better than YOU.” You men can do that on Saturday Night. The whole goddamn world watching. You WILL win. You will cast aside whatever’s wrong with you as men and become COCK-CRUSHING GODS. You will rape and pillage and loot and destroy and maim and apologize for none of it. And then you will go eat some pussy. RIGHT NACHO?

Sanchez: Well, I…

rex2

Ryan: Oh! Oh! Oh, ol’ Nacho wants a seat at the Old Cuntry Buffet! THAT’S GREAT HUSTLE!

(slaps Sanchez on ass, HARD)

Sanchez: Ouch!

Ryan: FUCKING BRING IT IN.

(everyone brings it in)

Ryan: We went through an ocean of shit to get here and now we will fucking OWN those cocksuckers come Saturday. Are you ready to fucking OWN?

Everyone: Yes, sir!

Ryan: IS TONY DUNGY A FUCKING MIDGET LOVING DICKSMACK?

Everyone: Yes, sir!

Ryan: ARE YOU READY TO KILLLLLLLLL?

Everyone: Yes, sir!

Ryan: ARE YOU READY TO DESTROY?

Everyone: Yes, sir!

Ryan: DO YOU LIKE FEET?

Everyone: Uh…

Ryan: Just kidding. FUCKING HANDS IN!

(all hands in)

Ryan: FUCK THE WORLD ON THREE! ONE TWO THREE!!

Everyone: FUCK THE WORLD!

Ryan: That was great. I need more that Fruit by the Foot. Michelle likes me to suck it off her toes.

Sanchez: We didn’t need to know that, sir.

Ryan: Well, six dudes at her forum do!