Fresh off his most recent pantsing of De Smith,,Goodell shits his focus towards the pressing matter of his dead Dad having his brain filled with Junior Seaus brain. Honestly if you cant follow along theres the door no one will miss you.

Goodell: Im so happy we are now rid of the racist stain on this National Football League that was the Rooney Rule.

Calvin: Lord I wish my granpappy was here to see this day boss, pal. He like to not believe his eyes.

Goodell: Bless his heart Calvin. We better hit the road Ive got a lunch meeting with Al Michael then some sort of branding meeting with Pagano and his team of marketers, PR people and doctors.

Calvin: Right way sir.

CUT TO

Goodell and Calvin in the towncar. Calvin has some friends who also are drivers (they play cards every now and again on NFL sundays after church) and they always talk about how there bosses always put up the divider so the driver wont bother them, not Goodell though he always talks to Calvin unless hes doing something like giving Miss Goodell the ATM pin number obviously.

Goodell: Calvin, you use to play ball back in the day right?

Calvin: No sir, i was in a back brace til i turned 20. Never got a chance to play.

Goodell: Oh. Please take me to lunch with Al Michael

CUT TO

The towncar pulls up to the 4 seasons a old favorite of Als. Calvin lets Goodell out and Roger walk’s up to Als usual table. Als not there but theres half drank glasses of mimosa, screwdriver, bloody mary, a fresh manhattan and a bet slip for a horse race in Ohio. Goodell takes a seat and smiles and looks every waiter and waitress in the eye when they walk by, just kind of killing time. 

Al walks up hes wearing a margaritaville shirt+ sandals with black sock’s hes also got a crazy sunburn everywhere accept for around his eyes from sunglasses and on his neck/chest where he wears a gold chain, you can see where theres a tanline as the necklace moves when he downs the second half of the screwdriver. Then he sits down

Al Michaels: Your late.

Goodell: Sorry Al, you know how i like to be punctual out of respect for my guests but ive been dealing with some stuff.

Al Michael: Dont bullshit me Rog,, Ive been sitting here for 3 minutes waiting for you. (remember all the drinks,, thats from 3 minutes)We need to talk.

Goodell: What can I help you with now, Al.

Al Michael: Im trying to close this deal for the new SNF Football intro song. I sent that bitch Faith Hill on the first train out of the horse trailer,,and Ive got a 3-way bidding war going on between Kid Rock (would be a absolute homerun), Hank Williams JR, and Brad Paisley.

Goodell: They all sound like great choices Al.

Al Michael: They are, but they says they cant pay me any money until after i make my decision and i just need a little scratch to get me threw the end of the week.

Goodell: Im sorry Al but you know I cant give you any more advances. Now if youll excuse me i need to use the bathroom. Ive been very busy and I havent used the bathroom yet today.

He gets up and leaves the table, Michael takes a mirror out and wipes his nose.Hes very fidgety too. Al walks up to the buffet and as hes turning around to hit up the omlet bar he bumps in to Peter King who had 5 plates in his hand. theres syrup and cheese everywhere now.

King: Godammit you son of a bitch Al! Why dont you look where your going it took me 20 minutes to get all my plates filled just the way I like them. And this shirt cost me literally fifteen dollars you drunk bastard!

Michael: Sorry Pete.

King: Sorrys not going to bring back my izod shirt Al. And you know you already owe me for those pies we ate last weekend, not to mention the hookers to.

Michael: Im good for it Peter I swear. Ill do anything Pete, anything.

King: Anything eh?

Peter pulls Al in real close then Peter sit’s down Indian style right there on the floor of the buffet. Its a strange deal but he acts like its the most normal thing in the world and he keeps talking to Al.

King: I coudnt help but notice your here with Commissioner Roger Goodell.

Michael: yea, so.

King: Well, his recent lack of,,gut’s shall we say, has me and many sources and league circles very nervous.

(member, Peter asked Goodell to kill Seaus brain in his dead Dads body because King thought it could ruin the league and his job?)

King: Goodell needs to go Al. Thats a fact. As im sitting here before you the man has to much integrity. Just help me out w/ this one thing and all debts are forgiven.
CUT TO

Goodell is sitting in the stall. hes pooping

CUT TO

Al and Peter are still talking

Michael: (Hes upset Goodell has stood by him through his ups and downs but hes got hiself into a pickle this time) Ok Pete what do you need me to do?

King: I,,,know the chef here

We look over into the kitchen, Florios standing there and ducks down behind the stove, he doesnt actually have to duck very far hes florio.

King pulls a slice of pizza out of his shirtpocket. it wasnt in a bag or anything,,he pulls it out and hands it to Michael.

King: I had him cookup a special recipe using poison. Now just make sure that Roger eats the whole thing and you wont owe me a nother dime.

Michael is shaking maybe its account of he hasnt taken a shot in a few mins but maybe its also account of Goodells a friend.

Michael takes the piece of pizza and goes back to his table. Peter King just sits on the ground still Indian style. Goodell returns from the bathroom hes putting sanitizer on his hands. He sits down at the table.

Goodell: Well Al it was nice seeing you please take care of yourself pal.

Michael: Thanks Rog, hey tell you what,, you havent had a bite yet. Do you beleve in miracles? You will after you eat this pizza slice,, its=the best in town.

A new waiter walks bye and lingers at the table for a second. Its Florio w/ a mustache hes there to make sure Goodell eats up.

Goodell: Shucks Al, you know im a real sucker for a nice slice of pie, Dad use to take me out for pizza after football games if i tackled safely and sprinted back to the huddle after plays.

Goodell puts the pizza to his mouth. Al cant bare to look so he starts holding a lighter to one of the buffet spoons on his table out of habit. Somethig snap’s in Al. He dives over the table and grabs it out of Goodells hand.

Michael: Run, commissioner, run. Peter Kings trying to kill you. Im sorry!!!

Always the grasious one, Goodell still leave’s behind cash to cover the meal and a 22 per cent tip to the waiter even though its a buffet.

Al Michael is seen devouring the pizza as Florio keeps reaching into his mouth trying to get the poison pizza. Michael swallows it as Goodell sprints out the door,, Calvin could cents something was wrong and had the car going.

Calvin: Everything ok boss?

Goodell: No Calvin its not. (Goodell puts the divider up in the towncar he doesnt know who to trust)

CUT TO

De Smith and Goodells dads body with Junior Seaus brain are early for there press conference there seriously like 3 hours early in a room with microphones. Rachel Nichols is the only one whose that early so the three of them go to the closet and play 7 minutes in heaven or something to past the time.

*HARD KNOCKS*