Jerry: NYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAWWWWWWWW!!!! FINALLY! A day for the ol’ Double-J to have to himself! And I know exactly what I’m gonna do. I’mma sit at my extremely long desk, a desk that needed to be hoisted right into this here office before the ceiling was put in, and enjoy this delicious brisket sandwich from Black’s.

My goodness, do you ever look delicious, my darlin’. I’m gonna chow down on you like you’re a Brazilian asshole! Let me just tuck my napkin into my shirt, tip my hat slightly backwards, and lay into you…

Say, what’s that rumblin’ sound? Christ, that’s loud. I better go stand in a doorway.

(door flies open)

Wade: (sweaty) SIR! SIR! WE HAVE A SERIOUS PROBLEM!

Jerry: Oh, god dammit, you fucking fatass! Can’t you see I’m tryin’ to enjoy my lunch here? I shoulda known, the second I sat down with a nice piece of hot meat in my hands, that you would stop mainlining scrapple butter and head straight for my door!

Wade: Sir, we have a real problem on our hands. WE GOTTA DO SOMETHING.

Jerry: Just slow down there, Burly Sue. You can stare at my brisket and take in oxygen at the same time. Now, what in the cotton-pickin’ world could have possessed you to come marchin’ through my FUCKING door?! ONLY I GET TO DO THAT!

Wade: It’s Romo, sir. He’s in Mexico, and I can’t get him out! He won’t come back!

Jerry: Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Ugly Sweaty! You cut into the Double J’s lunchtime because of that shit? Good fucking Lord, son. Didn’t I tell you my boy ROMO was goddamn STAR? Didn’t I?

Wade: You may have mentioned it in passing.

Jerry: HE’S A GODDAMNED STAR, YOU FAT FUCKING PONTOON BOAT! And if that worthless 400 lb. sack of veal reduction Parcells taught me anything, it’s that STARS HAVE THEIR OWN GODDAMN RULES!

Wade: But, Sir. We need Romo here! We have game plans for the Giants we have to implement.

Jerry: You fucking fat sack of fuck. Do I look worried about the Giants to you? Is there anything in these Texas sky blue eyes that connotes even the slightest HINT of worry that we won’t run over those Jersey faggots like an Iroquois schoolhouse? I’ve seen more intimidating QB’s working the fry-a-lator at Arby’s. Trust me. We ain’t got nothin’ to fear from little Eli “Happy Accident” Manning.

Wade: I just think it would be in the best interests of us all if we got Tony back here on US soil. We’ve been very flat the past month, sir. We need his leadership.

Jerry: (thinks) You know, it’s hard to underestimate a man who occupies an entire hemisphere, but perhaps I’ve misjudged you and your sweaty skin creases. All right! You swayed me! You can go to Mexico and get my boy for me.

Wade: Me? I can’t go. I have to put the game plan together.

Jerry: Oh, so you came all this way to ask me to do something you can’t do? HOW FUCKING PROINACTIVE OF YOU. Just because you need a gallon of sesame oil to fit through the jetway don’t mean you ain’t goin’! In fact, I got just the man to go with you.

(door opens)

Jack Twist: Someone need me to go to Mexico?

Jerry: You know I do, Cowgirl. And I want you to take the Earl of Sandwich here with you.

Wade: Sir, I don’t understand how Mr. Twist can help us.

Jerry: Are you fucking shitting me, Tubby? Listen, there isn’t a clandestine nook for hot fucking in Mexico that this little Cinderella hasn’t seen! He can smell a man’s ballsweat from twenty miles away.

Jack Twist: Thirty if there ain’t no smog.

Jerry: He’ll find Romo. And that Princess Hextits too. Guaranteed. Now get your ass to Mexico so I can finish my brisket!

Wade: But who will coach the team?

(door flies open)

Garrett: Hmm. Oh, dear. Are you being foodjacked, Mr. Jones? I can certainly distract this corpulent fellow with an empty Sara Lee box.

Jerry: No need, Princeton Boy! I’m sending El Gordo here down Mexico way to get our QB.

Garrett: Mexico? Will he be bringing his own weather system with him?

Wade: Sir, you can’t leave the team to him. He’s already negotiated separate deals with the Ravens, Falcons, Dolphins, AND Redskins. I heard him on the phone with Snyder yesterday! They were cackling!

Jerry: Calm down, Commandant Lard. I’ve put a deal in place that will keep my boy GARRETT here for quite a long time. Ain’t that right, Jason? Ha ha ha.

Garrett: Ha ha ha.

Jerry: Ha ha ha.

Garrett: Ha ha ha.

Jerry: Ha ha ha.

Garrett: Ha ha ha.

Jerry: Ha ha ha.

Garrett: Ha ha ha.

Jerry: Ha ha ha.

Garrett: Ha ha ha.

Jerry: Ha ha ha.

Garrett: Ha ha ha.

Wade: What kind of deal? What’s so funny?

Garrett: Nothing.

Jerry: NOW TAKE THAT KANSAS CITY FAGGOT AND GET YOUR ASS TO MEXICO TO GET MY BOY ROMO! AND DON’T STOP FOR TOSTADAS! I’LL SEE THEM ON YOUR SHIRT, EATIE GONZALEZ!

Wade: Dammit.

Jerry: YEEHAW!!! WHOOPADEEDOO!!!!!! BRISKET TIME!!!! I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!!!