Suspended for a year and newly divorced from his wife, a lost and disconsolate Sean Payton has embarked on a mission led by an unknown spectral entity that has taken the form of Drew Brees’ floating disembodied head. Payton does not know where this journey will lead him or what its purpose is, only that he must follow it.

Javier Yoodell: Got yerself in a whole mess o’ trouble, stranger. If I was you, I woulda listened to that dusty old crone and kept your nose out of the affairs of others. Devil’s Latrine is my town, and that ain’t about to change anytime soon. I’m a-feared it’s the end of the line for you.

Sean Payton: These people don’t have to fear you anymore.

Javier Yoodell: Ho ho! Is that so?

Sean Payton: It is.

Javier Yoodell: Funny. This here gang of bounty hunters and the six shooters they carry say different. I think you’ll find that they is awfully convincing.

Sean Payton: Not convincing enough.

Javier Yoodell: Only one way to find. Any parting words before the undertaker fits you for a casket?

Sean Payton: Just one. STEVE!

[Handicap access door flies open]

Steve Gleason: Yooooou shtop rye there, Missur Yooo- Yoodell.

Javier Yoodell: Christ, son. THAT’S your back-up? You brought a goddamn cripple to a gun fight?

Bounty hunter: That is one impressive wheelie chair he gots, I admit.

Steve Gleason: I- I am no crip-all. I am a huh huh human being and a war rear. And I must tell yush that bounties are not the anshur.

Javier Yoodell: Aw hell. This is just pathetic. I got a fresh Treasury Note to the man who plugs this man right between his eyes.

Steve Gleason: D-do yooooooour wersh.

[Beat]

Javier Yoodell: Well?? What the hell you all waiting on? Waste that sumbitch. I guess y’all don’t be needing money or food this month.

Bounty hunter: I can’t.

Bounty hunter: Me neither. I done shot kids. I done shot pregnant ladies and horses. Whole bunch of horses. But this? I can’t do this. No way.

Javier Yoodell: You yellow-bellied cowards! Shame on every poltroonish one of you!

Bounty hunter: Hell, you got a gun. YOU shoot him.

Javier Yoodell: I – I can’t. I never shot a man before. I never had the gumption.

Bounty hunter: You ain’t never even shot nobody? Holy hell, we been taking bounties from a No-Shot Nettie. The hell with this. We don’t need to do his bidding. Let’s just take his money.

Javier Yoodell: What? No! Nooooooo!

[Swarm of bandits overwhelms Yoodell]

Sean Payton: Thanks for your help, Steve. You came through yet again. We won’t forget you this time.

Steve Gleason: Yoooooooooooou bet, Coach Paaaaayton.

Sean Payton: Great. Well, I gotta get moseying. You good to get back home by yourself? I didn’t drive.

Steve Gleason: Awwwwwwwww

Pedro: Thank you, thank you, traveler. Because of you, the people of Devil’s Latrine can once again live a peaceful life of uneventful poverty. For a while.

Woman: You have truly done a wonderful thing. I don’t have much to pay you. You could take Pedro. He is an obedient boy and will be quiet if you beat him. If you happen upon a merchant on the road, you could trade him for a tin of horse pills. It’s all I can offer.

Sean Payton: That’s quite all right, ma’am. I got a son of my own. That’s enough for me. Speaking of, I should be getting back to him.

Sean Payton: All right, Drew. I came to this sandy butthole and made it okay for the peasants to life boring, indigent lives without getting shot on the regular. I got rid of Roger Goodell’s non-union Mexican equivalent. Can I go home now?

Drew Brees: Not just yet, I’m afraid.

Sean Payton: Son of a bitch! All right, but there better be some quality trim at the next place we stop at.

To be continued…