Ernest Borgnine: I have to tell you, this is pretty disappointing. I mean, here we are, Super Bowl week, All we’ve done is sit in our hotel room for three days and watch DVDs.

Punter: Will you just settle down? None of the good parties have happened yet. We’re here on radio row now, surrounded by celebrities, players, and media. Somebody is going to invite us to a party tonight. I just know it.

Ernest Borgnine: You better be right about this.

Punter: I am right. And we’ve been watching good movies, for the record.

Ernest Borgnine: Sure, sure…So does he really have a twin brother?

Punter: Who are you talking about?

Ernest Borgnine: That Charlie fellow. From the last movie we watched.

Punter: No, I’m pretty sure he just made that guy up.

Ernest Borgnine: But his name was in the credits.

Punter: Really? I didn’t see that.

Ernest Borgnine: Yeah, both Charlie and Donald were there.

Punter: Yeah, I don’t know about that. I did think Charlie was pretty clever, writing himself into the screenplay like that.

Ernest Borgnine: I thought it was pretty arrogant, and pretty lazy. I mean, why does he have to be him? Why can’t he just make up another character? It’s not like he doesn’t have any to choose from. I mean, look around here, for example. This place is filled with characters. Marshawn Lynch is over there. And over there is Terry Bradshaw. There’s Adam Brody, There’s–

Punter: Holy shit…Adam!

Ernest Borgnine: You know Adam Brody?

Punter: Sort of. We’ve never actually met, but we’ve exchanged emails.

Ernest Borgnine: Well then how is he going to recogni–

Adam Brody: Punterrrrr, sup bro? This is, uh, this is just like that one scene in that obscure movie whose name even I can’t remember. Dude, you’re not gonna believe this, but check it out, this guy Matt Cassel, you know, I think he’s a kicker or something, but he–

Punter: Goddamn it, Adam, he’s New England’s backup quarterback.

Adam Brody: Whatever, man, you know I don’t follow the defensive players, but anyway, he, uh, he’s co-hosting this rad party with Motorola out in the burbs, and I’m going, you know, and you and your dad should try and go, too.

Ernest Borgnine: What do we have to do?

Adam Brody: Just find Matt, who’s perusing the grounds as we speak. He will accommodate.

Punter: Good deal, man. I can’t believe you’re gonna be the Flash. That kicks ass.

Adam Brody: Yeah, as long as Wonder Woman is–MATT!

Matt Cassell: [walks over] Off the fucking nozzle, bros. Off the fucking nozzle. [Hands each person a VIP lanyard, wanders off]

Ernest Borgnine: What a disturbed young man.

Punter: Hey, that guy’s alright.

Adam Brody: No, bro, he’s kinda messed up. You’re not gonna believe this.

Ernest Borgnine: Try us.

Punter: Yeah, man, try us.

Adam Brody: Okay, so I guess he had a big meeting with the coach last night…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt: You wanted to see me, Coach?

Coach: Yeah, Matt, come on in. Have a seat over here on the bed.

Matt: Um, okay.

Coach: Look, Matt, it looks like Tom is pretty injured with this ankle sprain. And you know I’m sick of hiding him from the press. And, well, I think it would be only fair if I gave you a chance to earn the starting job.

Matt: Aw, thanks coach, I really appreciate this. So, I’ll be getting more reps in the 7-on-7s this week?

Coach: Well, not exactly.

Matt: Oh. Well…will he and I be doing competitive drills in walkthroughs this week?

Coach: No, not exactly.

Matt: (confused) Um, then how exactly am I competing for the job?

Coach: You see that red sweatshirt on the bed, Matt? That’s my Little Red Riding sweatshirt. You see, Matt, I’ve been waiting for this moment since you were at Southern Cal. I’m gonna put on that red sweatshirt and curl up on this bed with you. And then you and I are gonna fuck like wild seals in the Arctic night. Like a couple hamsters trying to eat each other. And if you can take the pounding that you know I can provide, right here, right now, you’ll be our starter.

Matt: Oh no.

Coach: Think about it, Matt. I’m gonna make you howl like the three-legged coyote in heat that you are. And then I’m gonna snap my offensive genius off in your ass. You’re gonna wish you were in prison, but it’s a small price to pay for worldwide glory.

Matt: Pl-please stop it, Coach.

Coach: Oh, Coach, what big eyes you have! Say it, you pissant!

Matt: This isn’t right–

Coach: CALL ME GRANDMA YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!

Matt: (jumps off the bed) Whoa, whoa, uh, sorry…I’m sorry, coach. I – I can’t do this.

Coach: (stands up) You do it, Matt. You fucking do it or you’re gonna get kicked around this league like a frozen dog turd on an Alaskan oilfield.

Matt: I’m sorry. (walks out)

Coach: Very well. (yells) Tommy! You’re starting on Sunday!

Tom Brady: (from under the bed) Thanks, Mister! Can I go back to my room now?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam Brody: You believe that shit, bro? Have you ever heard anything so disgusting?

Ernest Borgnine: It’s truly awful.

Punter: Shoulda fucked him. But hey, we’ve got a party to get ready for. Where’s my hovercraft?

Ernest Borgnine: Hovercraft?

Punter: Yeah, I have a hovercraft. It’s my post.

Adam Brody: Nice. Is is black?

Punter: It is now!

Adam Brody: DAMN! I’m dizzown like a wedding gown!

Ernest Borgnine: Okay, but go easy on the turns. These hovercrafts historically don’t corner well. And one more thing.

Punter: What is it?

Ernest Borgnine: Well, if this is your post, can I do something? It will just take a second.

Punter: Sure.

Ernest Borgnine: [yells] YEEEEE-HHAAAAAWW! WHOOPDY-DOO!!! I AM FLIPPING CRAZY!!

Punter: [confused] Yeah, that was a bad call.

Adam Brody: It was almost there, but not really.

Ernest Borgnine: Oh well, I tried.

Ernest Borgnine: What do you mean? It was like the show.

Punter: That’s the show? There was like no gaddamn format at all. It was like Calvinball without all the pesky legislation. You knew this and still paid money to see this shit? Did you really think that was worth even matinee rates?

Ernest Borgnine: It’s…it’s just like the show.

Punter: I should’ve taken the hint when they spelled out the colon. I mean, spelling out the colon is not all that clever. Why didn’t they spell out–

Ernest Borgnine: Oh my goodness, look by the snack bar! You see who that is?

Punter: The midget in the wheelchair? He works here. I like that guy.

Ernest Borgnine: No, not him. Him!

Punter: Wow, that looks like Drew Bledsoe.

Ernest Borgnine: Goodness Gracious, That is Drew Bledsoe!

Punter: In a movie theatre in South Carolina?

Ernest Borgnine: I’m gonna smell his hair (walks over)

Punter: (following) I’m gonna laugh when he tries to hit you in the face with Ju Ju Bees and overthrows you.

Ernest Borgnine: Excuse me, I don’t mean to intrude, but are you–

Drew Bledsoe: Yeah, I am. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Borgnine. I’m a huge fan of Airwolf.

Punter: I know; I wish they’d release the fucking DVDs already.

Ernest Borgnine: So what brings you this way, sir?

Drew Bledsoe: I’m here in Anderson for the weekend visiting family.

Punter: In a movie theater? Sounds like my family.

Drew Bledsoe: We’re going to watch the Aqua Teen Hunger something show. I didn’t really like the show, but my nephew said the movie will be different.

Punter: Oh, yeah. It’s totally different from the show and very coherent. You’ll love it.

Ernest Borgnine: Drew, it made me so sad to hear that you retired, and I just wanted to say that I loved watching you play all these years.

Drew Bledsoe: Thank you. I really appreciate that.

Punter: Fourteen years is good for anybody. You have any regrets?

Drew Bledsoe: Regrets?

Ernest Borgnine: Yeah.

Drew Bledsoe: (looks at the floor) Maybe one. (motions to his family) You guys go ahead. Save me a seat on the aisle. And don’t sit directly behind someone unless the theatre is full. That’s good movie etiquette.

Ernest Borgnine: That is good movie etiquette!

Drew Bledsoe: There was this one instance, before Super Bowl 36, that I had to make a difficult decision. It involved an intersection of my interests, both as a player, and as a person. And I knew, deep down, that no matter what, the decision would haunt me forever. It happened in the hotel room before the big game. I can remember it like it was yesterday…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drew: You wanted to see me, Coach?

Coach: Yeah, Drew, come on in. Have a seat over here on the bed.

Drew: Um, okay.

Coach: Look, Drew, I know this has been a traumatic season for you. And you know I’m announcing who will be our starter for the Super Bowl tomorrow. And, well, I think it would be only fair if I gave you a chance to earn the starting job back.

Drew: Aw, thanks coach, I really appreciate this. So, I’ll be getting more reps in the walkthroughs this week?

Coach: Well, not exactly.

Drew: Oh. Well…will he and I be doing competitive drills in walkthroughs this week?

Coach: No, not exactly.

Drew: (confused) Um, then how will I be able to win my job back?

Coach: You see that red sweatshirt on the bed, Drew? That’s my Little Red Riding sweatshirt. You see, Drew, I’ve been waiting for this moment since you were at Wazzou. I’m gonna put on that red sweatshirt and curl up on this bed with you. And then you and I are gonna fuck like wild seals in the Arctic night. Like a couple hamsters trying to eat each other. And if you can take the pounding that you know I can provide, right here, right now, you’ll be our starter.

Drew: Oh no.

Coach: Think about it, Drew. I’m gonna make you howl like the three-legged coyote in heat that you are. And then I’m gonna snap my offensive genius off in your ass. You’re gonna wish you were in prison, but it’s a small price to pay for worldwide glory.

Drew: Pl-please stop it, Coach.

Coach: Oh, Coach, what big eyes you have! Say it, you pissant!

Drew: This isn’t right–

Coach: CALL ME GRANDMA YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!

Drew: (jumps off the bed) Whoa, whoa, uh, sorry…I’m sorry, coach. I – I can’t do this.

Coach: (stands up) You do it, Andrew. You fucking do it or you’re gonna get kicked around this league like a frozen dog turd on an Alaskan oilfield.

Drew: I’m sorry. (walks out)

Coach: Very well. (yells) Tommy! You’re starting on Sunday!

Tom Brady: (from under the bed) Thanks, Mister! That’s just swell!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drew Bledsoe: I was really conflicted about it for a while. You know, sacrificing my playing career to salvage my heterosexuality and to keep my anus free of internal lacerations. But after distancing myself from the game after all these minutes and discussing it with such well-adjusted people, I feel like I make the better of two tough choices.

Ernest Borgnine: Wow, Drew. What a horrible situation that must have been for you.

Punter: Shoulda fucked him, dude. That coulda been you wearing all those rings up in Foxboro.

Drew: You know, I was blessed to have played in the league for so long. I’ve really been fortunate, and I really have no regrets. It was nice meeting you both.

Ernest Borgnine: Take care of yourself.

Punter: See ya. (Drew walks away). No regrets, my ass. He’s probably gonna beat off to that story tonight.

Ernest Borgnine: I thought he was a nice man. I mean, he put up with your foolishness.

Punter: My foolishness smells like roses.

Ernest Borgnine: So, d’you hear about that Imus fellow?

Punter: Totally overblown. Yeah, he’s old and irrelevant, kinda like you, but he didn’t say anything that would have been out of place in a rap video or a Dave Chappelle skit.

Ernest Borgnine: Well, I’m glad they let him go. I think it serves him right.

Punter: Just goes to show that white people will always be taken more seriously than black people.

Ernest Borgnine: That’s not true.

Punter: Hey, can we stop back at your place before we go bowling? I’ve really gotta take a shit.

Ernest Borgnine: Sure, you just have to pay the cover charge. Ten bucks.

Punter: Great. Can you break a fifty?

Update: Actually, all four seasons of Airwolf are available on DVD now. Jan Michael Vincent will drink to that, I’m sure. -MMP