Int. the Carey Household

Mike Carey: Mike Junior, I need to see you in the kitchen immediately.

Junior: Hey dad, what’s up? You must have had a pretty rough day. I saw you get run over by a quarterback, that was pretty funny. But why was that other quarterback screaming at you?

Carey: Listen, Junior, I just went over your latest algebra problem set and there are some things we need to discuss.

Junior: What’s the problem dad? I thought I got all of the correct answers this time.

Carey: Well son, your answers were correct, but more importantly, you failed to properly explain your answers.

Junior: But if I got everything right then why do I need to bother with explanations. It seems like overkill to me.

Carey: Overkill? How can you think a proper explanation is overkill? I think I need to have this chat with your algebra teacher.

Junior: But dad, you are my algebra teacher. I won’t take algebra in school for another three years.

Carey: Well good. Maybe by that time you’ll appreciate the importance of a good thorough explanation. Until then, let me explain this first one to you from the start.

Junior: Oh God, here we go.

[Door flies open]

Philip Rivers: Ya betta ask somebodddddddaaaaaayyyyyyyy!

Junior: Hey, it’s that quarterback who yells at everybody!

Rivers: HEY, IT’S THAT BED-WETTING FUCKSTAIN THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT! Shut your mouth kid, the grownups need to do some talking. Why don’t you go play in traffic for a few minutes while I turn your daddy into a hand puppet.

Carey: Hold it right there, Mr. Rivers, you have no right to come into my home like this.

Rivers: Yeah, well MR. FRUIT STRIPES, you have no right to call me for intentional grounding in the endzone!

Carey: Actually that’s exactly my right. If you’ll allow me to explain…

Rivers: NO! YOU AREN’T EXPLAINING SHIT THIS TIME, ASSHOLE! I’M A GOD DAMN QUARTERBACK AND YOU’RE JUST SOME PISSANT WITH A STRIPED SHIRT AND A WHISTLE. HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND MY INTENTIONS WHEN I UNLEASHED THAT LASER? [mimics a long pass, imaginary ball floats in the air for thirty seconds before it evaporates like a dream deferred].

Carey: For your information I played a bit of college ball back in California.

Rivers: Yeah, I’m sure you were the big man on campus at UCLGAY.

Carey: Actually it was UCSB SCU.

Rivers: Whatever asshole, I’m here to tell you that I know what you’re up to.

Carey: And what would that be?

Rivers: You, Hochuli, and all of you other hat wearing bitches are trying to make me look bad.

Carey: I assure you…

Rivers: SHUT THE FUCK UP, I’M TALKING NOW. AND DON’T TRY ACTING INNOCENT, I KNOW WHO IS BEHIND THIS DIABOLICAL CONSPIRACY.

Carey: Oh yeah, and who might that be.

Rivers: CUTLERFUCKER!

Carey: That’s it Mr. Rivers, I’ve had about as much of your belligerence as I can tolerate and I think it’s time for you to leave.

Rivers: LIKE FUCK I’M LEAVI-

Carey: ENOUGH! If you won’t leave quietly then I’ll have to explain to you in no uncertain terms exactly why you must leave my house right this minute.

Rivers: …

Carey: First of all, when you rushed unabated into my home you encroached on the sanctity of my neutral zone without establishing yourself as an eligible visitor.

Rivers: …

Carey: Furthermore, you committed a personal foul by referring to my son as a “bed-wetting fuckstain,” before you incurred an additional fifteen yard unsportsmanlike conduct penalty for referring to a referee as “Mr. Fruit Stripes.” Both penalties will be assessed from the spot of the foul.

Rivers: MAKE IT STOP!

Carey: Only you can make it stop, Mr. Rivers. If you do not return to your sideline immediately I will have to flag you for a delay of my dinner, which of course will require a five part explanation before we even get to the ruling.

Rivers: [backs away slowly]

Carey: Now Junior, let’s start by explaining why we must isolate the variable on one side of the equation. But first, I’ll bet you want to know why they use the letter “x” in mathematics.

Junior: [backs away slowly]