Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: Oh, boy! Today is my lucky day! I can’t believe the Make A Wish foundation was able to get Aaron Rodgers to come visit me in the hospital! He’s awesome! He’s better than Brett Favre! He’s gonna lead us to the Promised Land! This is the greatest day of my life! I’m so, so happy! I wonder when he’s gonna show up.

(hears footsteps)

Mr. Rodgers? Mr. Rodgers, is that you?

(door flies open)

Goth Aaron Rodgers: What?

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: It IS you! You came to visit me!

Goth Aaron Rodgers: Pfft. Whatever.

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: Aren’t you gonna sign my jersey?

Goth Aaron Rodgers: Why would I do that? Ink is the spoiled blood of corporate writing instruments. A name is nothing more than a brand, seared into the flesh by your whore of a mother and your drunken rapist of a father. It is not your true identity, which is why I instruct my closest friends to always refer to me as Coagula. THAT is my true given name, as decreed by the archdaemon Secchus in a ritual ceremony we have in the Kum & Go parking lot every August.

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: But… but… but you’re my hero.

Goth Aaron Rodgers: Hero? Hero? What is that? What is a hero? A hero is just a man who does “good deeds” in order to buttress his own bloated self-legacy. It is a delusion, one that gives man permission to worship himself and tear apart vaginas as he pleases. Heroes REPULSE me. Ask Matthew Lillard on Monday evening’s episode of “House” what being a “hero” is worth.

/spits on the ground

Hero
Heroism
Heroine
Heroin
Here is the needle
Here are your dead eyelids
HEROin

I wrote that in my head just now.

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: You’re weird.

Goth Aaron Rodgers: Am I? Am I “weird,” or am I normal and everyone else is “Weird”? Just because you conform to society’s rules and let it inject you with radium doesn’t mean you’re normal, young lad. Far from it. You are a walking cog. And the tumor inside you makes you a defective part in society’s endless rape of Nature’s womb.

I will sign my name for you, but only if I can sign upon your tumor itself. If I can sign my name in blood across the tangled mass of teeth and veins that is slowly colonizing your body. Then we will have truly bonded. I, the overlord. And you, my precious “fan”.

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: I don’t think they can do that. They said they can’t cut the tumor out.

Goth Aaron Rodgers: That is because they don’t want to. YOU ARE THEIR PAWN, AND YOUR BALD LITTLE HEAD ONLY EMPHASIZES THE SIMILARITY.

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: Well, can you at least throw a touchdown for me on Sunday?

Goth Aaron Rodgers: For you? Why would I do that? Do you know why I throw touchdowns, young one? Do you know why I hit Greg Jennings in perfect stride on deep seam routes? BECAUSE IT MEANS NOTHING. Touchdowns are a triumph of nothingness. I wallow in their meaninglessness. I can taste the nihilism. I feel my soul drain every time I throw one, and the emptiness cleanses me. It is an enema of my putrid spirit. Where you see a touchdown, I see a pile of oozing fecal brain matter. THE DIARRHEA OF A DISEASED MIND.

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: Uh, can someone get him away from my bed? He’s scaring me now.

Goth Aaron Rodgers: It is not I who should scare you! IT IS THE DEMONCHRIST!

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: Just leave so I can have lunch!

Goth Aaron Rodgers: FLORIO WILL MISCONSTRUE THIS MOMENT BETWEEN US! I HAVE FORSEEN IT!

(gets dragged out by security)

YOU CANNOT EVADE THE BLACKNESS, CANCER KID! GOD’S HATE IS OMNIPRESENT!

Very Nice Kid Who Has Cancer And Loves The Packers: Jesus. Hey, there’s Jay Cutler! Jay, can you throw five touchdowns for me on Sunday?

Cutlerfucker: What? Yeah, whatever. Just don’t get your cancer on me.

Oftentimes, KSK writers enjoy a delightfully inappropriate tweaking of current events, but, in general, we’d sooner delve into Andy Reid’s urethra than the realm of politics, therefore we declined our initial impulse to chat up Snow and Edwards about chemo and dealing with personal tragedy in the public eye while still furthering the message of stupid people. And, naturally, football, the unflagging focus of our humble site.

No, we’d rather talk with the cancer, knowing full well how eager the supposed “disease” would be to cut through ther vast anti-polyp bias in the mainstream media.

Christmas Ape: Welcome, cancers.

Edwards’ cancer: Glad to be here.

Snow’s cancer: Hey buddy.

CA: Now, Edwards’ cancer, as breast cancer, how equipped are you to discuss-

EC: Football? Plenty. Remember, breast cancer does affect men. Sure, it’s fewer than one percent of all diagnosed cases, yet I dare you to explain away the fact that 50 percent of NFC East coaches are afflicted.

CA: I can’t. Staggering. Point well made. Let’s begin with a discussion of recent free agent activity. Okay, Chris Cooper to the Cardinals…

EC: Excellent in Breach.

SC: Masterful in Adaptation. Mediocre defensive lineman, however. And totally healthy, insofar as we know. Next.

CA: Marshall Faulk announced his retirement…

EC: Hope he starts smoking.

SC: Or standing in front of a radar gun.

CA: Thoughts on Pacman Jones?

EC: Sorry, we only have insight on actual, not clubhouse, cancer. His marked determination in spreading other forms of disease is admirable, however.

CA: Okay. Moving along. Ken Hamlin to the Cowboys…

SC: Is it irradiated ham? If so, superb signing.

CA: Not sure. Jason Fabini to the Redskins…

EC: The fundamental problem with big fat guys is, even though they’re susceptible to contracting one of us, they’re just as likely to keel over with heart failure.

SC: You go through all the trouble to get your pseudopod in the door and you’re not even a direct cause of death. Very demoralizing.

CA: Still no cure, though.

SC: Yeah, that is nice, let me tell ya. But you never know when that cure might be coming down the pike. I’m just trying to kill as many humans as I can before that happens, then maybe settle down and kill a cat or something.

EC: That tainted pet food is a godsend, by the way.

CA: Alright, I think we’ve reached the end of our time here. Appreciate your taking your time out during this hectic period for you two.

EC: Always a pleasure, Ape. Be sure to always sit real close to your monitor when you’re doing your blog thing. And carry your cell phone in your pants pockets at all times. Maybe play with some plutonium and drink lots of tap water.

CA: Uh, thanks.