VOICEOVER: “Beneath me, this awful comments section, it screams like an abattoir full of retarded children. The Internet.

“On Friday night, an All-Pro died.  Jared Allen. The Comedian.

“A dangerous drunk.  Unpredictable.  But one of the best.  His head disappeared inside his body when he hit the pavement.

“Someone’s killing All-Pros. Have to find out why. Have to find out WHO.  Have to warn the others.  Will go to the Nite Cardinal first.”

[Nite Cardinal's Apartment]

Nite Cardinal: Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…

[door flies open]

LaRorschach!  What are you doing here?

LaRorschach: Comedian’s dead.  Someone threw him out a window.  Think killer may be after All-Pros.

Nite Cardinal: Lord help us!  I’ll pray for guidance!

LaRorschach: Christ.

Nite Cardinal: Oh, come on now.  Am I the only one who honors the Third Commandment any more?

LaRorschach: [walking out] Yes.

[under breath] Possible homosexual. Must investigate further.

[The Offices of Bradymandias, the So-Called Handsomest Man in the World]

Bradymandias: …the Comedian DEAD?  But why?

LaRorschach: You’re the one who’s turned a couple lucky wins into worldwide fame and a supermodel wife.  You tell me.

Bradymandias: Are you sure it wasn’t a fatal hunting accident?  A deadly DUI?  Those seem much more probable deaths for him.

LaRorschach: Nope. Splattered on pavement.

Bradymadias: Hm.  Well, it’s possible that –

[elevator doors fly open]

Will McDonough: Watch out!  It’s Bridget Moynihan!  And she’s got a court order to pay child support!

LaRorschach: Outta the way!

Bradymandias: Um, I was ready to jam a cyanide pill in her mouth, but… thanks.  How’d you do that?

LaRorschach: She plays fantasy football.  Drafted me in the first round.  Got what was comin’ to her.

[Rockefeller DVOA Center, Home of Dr. Manninghattan]

LaRorschach: Good evening, Dr. Manninghattan.  Came to warn you about –

Dr. Manninghattan: — an All-Pro killer.  Yes.  I am aware.

LaRorschach: Take it you’re not too concerned about Allen’s death?  The future of the NFL could be at stake.

Dr. Manninghattan: The Lombardi Trophy and this stack of cash from Sprint contain the same number of particles.  Structurally, there’s no discernible difference.  Why should I be concerned?

LaRorschach: Ennk.

Silk Steeler: [mumbling]

LaRorschach: What’d he say?

Dr. Manninghattan: You seem to be upsetting Troy.  I think you ought to go.

LaRorschach: With respect, Dr. Manninghattan, I’m not leaving ’til I’ve –

[LaRorschach gets teleported outside]

Dr. Manninghattan: So, want me to replicate myself and double-team you now?

Silk Steeler: [mumbling]

Dr. Manninghattan: Sweet!  [high-fives clone]

[TWO HOURS OF EXPOSITION AND ONE PIRATE COMIC LATER]

[Bradymandias's Elaborate Mansion in Southern California]

LaRorschach: So it was you all along!

Bradymandias: Well, not so much me as Belichick.  He’s more the idea guy.  I just had the capital and influence to make it happen.

Nite Cardinal: But WHY?

Bradymandias: Simple.  I missed all of last season with an injury.  Another lost season would hamper my endorsement deals as well as my legacy, which will help determine future endorsement deals.  I need the NFL to go on, no matter what the cost.  Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Manninghattan?

Dr. Manninghattan: I cannot help but agree.  Troy’s Coca-Cola advertisement helped me see the beauty of commercialism tied to the NFL.

LaRorschach: No! Not even in the face of a work stoppage. Never compromise.

Bradymandias: Oh, it’s far too late to stop me.  I’ve already launched the nuclear warheads at Pittsburgh.  And as the nation reels from the loss of its premier NFL franchise, the two sides of the labor dispute will have no choice but to come to terms and give us a 2009 season.  Why, if the Steelers ever play again, it will be in Los Angeles.  Ha ha ha!

[long pause]

LaRorschach: That’s it?  Nuke Pittsburgh?

Bradymandias: Well… yeah.  Doesn’t anyone want to try to stop me?

LaRorschach: Nah.

Nite Cardinal: No.

Dr. Manninghattan: Not especially.

Silk Steeler: [mumbles]

Bradymandias: Cool! I’ll have Will bring in some champagne.  Hey, who wants to see my eugenically enhanced sex kitten?  I call her Boobasstits.

Quite a 27th birthday bash for Ben Rongrastname. First (purportedly and puffedly) partying it up in Vegas. Then hopping to L.A. for the Watchmen premiere, where he chose to stand for a photo in front of the worst possible poster.

Even though he’s quarterbacked my favorite team to two Super Bowl titles, is it okay for me to hate Ben because he saw this movie before me? (His review: BLUE GUY IS BIGGER THAN BIG BEN!”) Nah, I’ll go with being only six months older than me and already accomplishing more in life than I ever will. DAMN YOU! Also, he’s still with Missy Peregrym apparently.

Jokel: You just could no ret me go, courd you? This is what happens when unstoppable folce meet immovaberr object. You tlury incorruptiberr? You no kirr me out of mispraced sense of serf-lighteousness, and I no kirr you, because you is supell funtime. I think you and I all destined to do this follever.

Batmalard: You’ll be in a padded cell forever. A CELL PADDED WITH THE INNARDS OF LASERFACE VICTIMS! WHAT? HUH? WHAT? FUCK YOU!

Jokel: Maybe we sharl padded cerr. We doubre up the late this city’s inhabitants rosing they-ll minds.

Batmalard: I can’t understand what you’re saying Charlie Chan the wide receiver. Maybe if you could go and get fucked in American, like we speak in this country, people would respect you better.

Tell my groin it’s going to be okay. Lie! Like I did!

The night is darkest just before I limp off the field nursing an injury I could play through. And I promise you, the limping is coming.

You thought we could be decent running backs with an indecent ability. But you were wrong. The world is cruel, and my diminutive backup is the clear superior. No matter how much lean meat protein I take in.

James Norvon Jr.: Why’s Batmalard running, coach?

Lt. James Norvon: Because James Harrison has to chase him.

James Norvon Jr.: He didn’t do anything wrong.

Lt. James Norvon: Because he’s the hero the NFL deserves, but not the one it needs right now. So Silverback will hunt him. Because he can take it. And because he can float the ball out of bounds or spike it at running backs’ feet. Because he’s not our hero. He’s a brash, shit-talking guardian, a watchful protector. A douche knight.

Some people may find it curious that I’m bothering to announce my retirement now, when I haven’t played since last year. The timing of the Saints-Falcons game is a nice touch, but not really why I’m bowing out now.

Spare me the geriatrics jokes. Yeah, I’m an old man. I still got it. But even as a kicker, it takes a lot of work to stay in football shape when you’re out of the game and waiting for that phone call.

Have to tell the press the right things. The God-honest truth is I could keep going. It’s been a good run. I’d go far as to say a blessing. And I’m not much one for religion. ‘Cause we outlawed it in Europe.

Even with the records, it’s not about a lack of motivation. I could play the game until they put me deep in the ground.

But, man, once I get my hands on that Dark Knight Blu-Ray tomorrow, I’m not doing shit for six months. Possibly not ever again. You might think that last comeback with the Falcons was to establish myself as the highest scorer in NFL history? Pfft, that ain’t nothing. I was all about cultivating my weed contacts through Ookie, and oh did I ever. My friends over in Amsterdam can only dream about the sticky I can dig up.

I couldn’t get fucked up when I saw Dark Knight on IMAX over the summer ’cause I had the wife with me and she doesn’t approve. Typical. Do you know how pretty movies look in Blu-Ray? I stuck Wall-E in the other day and never watched the movie ’cause I kept staring at the menu screen for three hours.

But a good movie? I’m done. DONE.

I wish you could see this, Ookie. It’s like they invented it for you.

Very Deep Announcer Voice: Tonight… They were just ordinary people…

Claire: God, I feel so ordinary despite my flawless skin and supple curves. I always felt like I was destined for something more…

Very Deep Announcer Voice: Who discovered they had EXTRAORDINARY powers…

Claire: Holy shit! I can heal! And this season I turn into an even HOTTER future self! Without a douchebag flying emo boyfriend! GO CLAIRE!

Very Deep Announcer Voice: Powers they can only begin to even comprehend…

Peter Petrelli: My God! I can absorb anyone else’s powers! Except for the ability to turn in a credible acting performance!

Very Deep Announcer Voice: And tonight, they discover they are not alone…

Ronnie Brown: Great Scott! I can score five touchdowns in a single game, so long as I’m tethered to everyone’s fantasy bench!

Very Deep Announcer Voice: That there are others out there just like them…

Brian Westbrook: I can get injured just as fantasy owners are beginning to trust me!

Very Deep Announcer Voice: Some who want to use their powers for good…

Hines: Finaree, Ando and I wirr use sold of Takezo Kensei to batter virrins, instead of being stuck in sterrpid feuderr Japanese subprot! If I sclunch up eyes velly tight, I catch pass flum Jeem Mirror!

Very Deep Announcer Voice: And some who want to use their powers for EVIL…

Jerry: Baby, lemme take you for a ride in Double J One! Once I’m airborne, the ol’ Double-J can flood your poon delta in under five minutes flat!

Niki: Don’t you see I’m having an epic inner struggle with the spirit of my dead sister, who lives inside me?

Jerry: Sweetheart, no one gives a shit about your boring little character. NOW TAKE OFF THEM PANTIES AND LET ME GIVE YOU A REAL TASTE OF ARKINSAW SIRLOIN!

Very Deep Announcer Voice: And some who don’t quite grasp the consequences of their actions…

Tommy: I CAN FACKIN’ MAKE EVERYTHING ABOUT ME AND MY FACKIN’ TOWN!!! MATTY CASSEL HAS BETRAYED US ALL! WE DID NAWT DESERVE TO LOSE TO THOSE MIAMI FAGGOTS! FACK YOU!!!!!

Very Deep Announcer Voice: …And tonight, they will discover an enemy with powers far beyond what they ever could have imagined.

Horn Rimmed Glasses Guy: Who, me? I’m just a paper salesman… a very creepy paper salesman who brings a creepy Haitian dude with him wherever he goes and kinda looks like he wants to nail his smoking hot adopted daughter… Can I interest you in a ream of Canary Lined Legal?

Very Deep Announcer Voice: No, not that guy…

Sylar: I can trick idiot Indian doctors and superfluous Latin Americans characters into thinking I actually have good intentions, despite my clearly shady demeanor.

Very Deep Announcer Voice: Not that guy either. No, this is a villain so evil, so nefarious, so ruthlessly cunning that even their EXTRAORDINARY POWERS are no match for it. He is a man so cunning, he can tell any lie, AND HAVE YOU BELIEVE IT.

Carl Peterson: I believe the fact that we got completely fucking destroyed in our first three games is a sign of just how much potential this young team has.

Sylar: Oh no! If I eat his brain, my own brain will stop functioning!

Carl Peterson: That’s right! MWAHAHAHAHAHA

Parkman: I can’t read his mind! There’s nothing in it but combs and seal blubber oil!

Carl Peterson: MWAHAHAHAHAHA

Molly: I can find anyone on Earth at any time, except for a decent lineman on the St. Louis Rams.

Carl Peterson: You’ll never find me! I’m tucked discreetly inside the decayed asshole of Lamar Hunt’s corpse!

Very Deep Announcer Voice: TONIGHT, they will have to pick sides. They will have to choose between good and evil. Between right and wrong. Between rooting for the Chiefs, or giving up on them altogether. It all begins TONIGHT, and will drag out through numerous subplots that will only serve to distract and annoy you. TONIGHT.