Vick: (startles awake) What?! What the fuck is that?!

(phone rings)

Vick: Is that the phone, or am I still trapped in that dream with the cannibal mafia hitman?

(phone rings)

Vick: Okay, I think it’s the phone. Fuck, man.

(phone rings)

Vick: (takes bong hit) Hello?

Blank: Hello, Michael?

Vick: Maybe…

Blank: Michael, it’s Arthur Blank.

Vick: Man, I told you motherfuckers I don’t want that Fios hi-speed internet shit!

Blank: No, Michael, it’s Mr. Blank. From the Falcons!

Vick: What? Oh hey, Mr. Owner-man! The one with the mustache! How the fuck you doin’?

Blank: Listen Michael, I just wanted to let you know that we tra…

Vick: You the motherfucker that own Home Depot, right?

Blank: Yes.

Vick: Why can’t I ever find a motherfucker to help my ass in that goddamn store?

Blank: Well, we try and lay out the store so that it’s user-friendly.

Vick: Fuck that. And how come I need anchors when I screw shit in the drywall? I’m just trying to put in a shelf, and it turns into some 8-hour project and shit. My fishbowl keeps sliding off it now, man. Fuck.

Blank: Well, the anchors keep the drywall from coming loose.

Vick: Well, how come I don’t need an anchor for screwing into wood?

Blank: Because it’s stronger.

Vick: Then why don’t they just make the whole wall outta wood? Riddle me that!

Blank: Because it would warp. It’s just not a good idea.

Vick: (takes bong hit) That’s fucked up.

Blank: Anyway, Michael, I wanted to let you know that we traded Matt Schaub.

Vick: Who the fuck is that?

Blank: Our backup QB.

Vick: You mean the white boy?

Blank: Yes.

Vick: Damn. That motherfucker was good. Like really good.

Blank: Anyway, Michael, I thought you’d be pleased to hear the news. There’s no ambiguity about where you stand now.

Vick: Ambiguity? You calling me a fag?

Blank: No, I’m saying YOU ARE THE MAN NOW.

Vick: Yeah man, but white boy knew the motherfuckin’ playbook, man. He’s the one who watched film and went to meetings for me. He had good notes, man. Who the fuck am I gonna crib shit from now? What did you trade him for?

Blank: Two second rounders.

Vick: Two second rounders?! Motherfucker, you crazy? I just smoked a bowl laced with Liquid Plumr, and even I wouldn’t trade the bitch for that little. Why don’t you just trade him for a Slush Puppy while you’re at it?

Blank: I thought you’d be happy.

Vick: I just… I just don’t need this kinda pressure in my life right now, man. Everybody’s looking AT ME, man. Why can’t we all just slow the fuck down for a second and consider things like, tall wavy grass and shit?

Blank: Maybe this isn’t the best time to talk.

Vick: And how come they don’t serve burgers at the Home Depot? I’m moving lumber and shit. I get fucking hungry, man!

Blank: I think I’ll call back later.

Vick: It burns when you snort vodka. Wait… are you still on the line?

Blank: Yes.

Vick: Is this Marcus?

Blank: No Michael, it’s Arthur Blank.

Vick: Marcus, I think I just hallucinated. Schauby was in Texas and my chicken sandwich stood up on its hind legs.

(Mr. Blank hangs up.)

Vick: Hello? Fuck, Marcus, are you impersonating a dial tone again? Ha ha ha! Holy fuck, I am stoned. I’m not sure I can move. I feel like drinking an entire bottle of Caesar salad dressing. What’s that buzzing sound?!

Photo, as always, courtesy of the Onion. Oh, and nice job not trading for Matt Schaub, Minnesota Vikings. You fucking impotent assholes.