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[The sun sets on a house in suburban Denver. A man and his friends sit outside by a pool, lazily enjoying their shared vacation time. He looks towards a cooler and reaches out to open the top.]

BRITTON COLQUITT: “Matt, that’s the beer chest. We have some soda in the other one if you want.”

MATT PRATER: “Brit, it’s been over three years since my DUI conviction. I was being stupid then. We’re at my house, and I’m not going anywhere tonight. Surely no one is going to care if I pop open a cold one.”

COLQUITT: “Man, I dunno, you know how Goodell gets over these things.”

PRATER: “It’s cool; look, I’ve learned how to be a responsible person, especially inside my own home.”

[Prater grabs a bottle and twists off the top. As he enjoys his beer, a low rumbling sound intensifies.]

COLQUITT: Oh no, Matt. MATT! HIDE IT, I THINK THEY KNO-

[Before he can finish, 13 seperate pickup trucks jump over and through the fence of Prater's yard. They all slide to a halt, and dozens of fully-armed officers file out and take up defensive positions]

PRATER: [drops empty beer bottle] “What the-”

[A helicopter circles overhead, and shines a spotlight on the scene below. An amplified voice screams out over the chaos.]

OFFICER: “NOBODY MOVE. THIS IS THE SHIELD. CAN YOU CONFIRM THAT YOU ARE ‘MATT PRATER’, SIR?

PRATER: “Yes, but-”

OFFICER: “ARE YOU ENJOYING THE COLD, CLEAN REFRESHMENT OF A BUD LIGHT, THE OFFICIAL BEER OF THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE, WHERE ANYTHING GOES AND EVERYONE IS UP FOR WHATEVER?”

PRATER: “Well, I mean, no, I have standar-”

OFFICER: “MEN, MOVE IN AND SUBDUE THE SUSPECT. HE IS A KNOWN ALCOHOL DRINKER, SOMETHING THE LEAGUE WILL NOT TOLERATE UNLESS PAID VAST QUANTITIES OF SPONSORSHIP MONEY TO DO SO.”

PRATER: “This doesn’t even make sense! I’m being responsible – I’m not even going anywhere. I mean, yes, I’ve made poor decisions in the past, but I’m on vacation! I’m no threat to anyone.”

[Sliding door of the house opens]

WES WELKER: “Oh hey guys what’s going on out here. Sure is a lot of noise, heh.”

[Welker slips on the empty beer bottle, falls onto the grass, and is concussed]

PRATER: “Oh no. Wes! Oh God what have I done? What evils has this accursed beverage led me to commit. I surrender, Shield! My actions of reasonably enjoying an adult beverage have hurt so many!”

OFFICER: “HA. THEY ALWAYS FOLD. MATT, YOU ARE HEREBY SENTENCED TO FOUR WEEKS OF INCARCERATION.”

PRATER: “Wait, I’m going to jail for this?”

OFFICER: “OH NO, WE ARE A PARAMILITARY OPERATION THAT OPERATES ABOVE THE LAW. WE HAVE OUR OWN SYSTEM OF JUSTICE.”

[Three weeks later, in the halls of the Broncos front office]

ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT: “Mr. Elway, the janitor is here to clean your office.”

PRATER: “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

[Matt Prater begins shovelling hay into a wheelbarrow]

JOHN ELWAY: [whinnies] [trots out of office]