Wow. Big-time mailbag today, people. We’ve got some seriously inexperienced readers in need of equally serious help. With the exception of one guy who married a slut, pretty much everyone is at the “crawl” stage today.

But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Except for the guy who married a slut. I would’ve liked him to do better for himself.

Gentleman and Scholars,

I like how only one of us is a gentleman. Probably flubby. He’s from the South.

Sex: So, I asked a question here once before and got some good advice, so I’ve decided to come back to the well.

Woo-hoo! Repeat customer! THAT’S BRAND LOYALTY, BABY.

My birthday is coming up soon, and a group of friends and I are going barhopping. Among our group will be a girl that I’m particularly into. We hooked up before a while ago but nothing since then, but I feel like that’s less that she’s not interested than just no good opportunities. As someone without a whole lot of game, do you have any particular advice for how I can best make sure that I bring this girl home at the end of the night (and bang the shit out of her)?

Classy. I have two recommendations: be an attentive gentleman, and be less drunk than everyone else. These are rules I try to apply in almost every social situation I’m in, but I recognize that this is foreign territory for some, so I’ll explain.

First, the drinking. I don’t know how old you are, but college students and young adults often act like getting drunk is some kind of race, like there’s some award for Asshole Who Consumes the Most Booze. Getting drunk, like life, is a journey, not a destination. So, with that in mind, people will likely offer to buy you shots for your birthday. TURN THEM DOWN. Let them buy you a beer or a mixed drink, but NO SHOTS. Don’t let people call you a bitch. Lie. Tell them you had food poisoning the night before. Have one or two of your close friends stand up for you to take off any peer pressure. Pound a glass of water every other drink (but drink it quickly at the bar — you don’t want to carry it around while socializing).

Now, some people are going to call this lame, but by the end of the night, you’ll still be pleasantly drunk, while everyone else will be HAMMERED. You’ll have all the looseness and confidence booze gives you without stumbling around or being sloppy. In a room full of drunks, you’ll look like Don Draper.

Which brings us to being a gentleman. When your little Susie Rottencrotch comes in, greet her with affection. Touch her arm and maintain eye contact while you say “I’m so glad you made it; it’s really good to see you!” or somesuch. Be friendly and into her without being too flirty or lecherous. Be attentive; ask questions. Offer to buy her a drink. If you excuse yourself from her — and you should, because it’s your birthday and you want to see your other friends (and not look like a puppy following her around) — make sure she’s not standing by alone by herself. If you talk to another girl, glance in Susie’s direction: make sure she knows you’re thinking of her.

Now, there are other people who will insist that you need to play games — ignore her, flirt with others, etc. — and those can be decent tactics depending on the situation and the craziness of the girl in question. But you can never go wrong with giving honest body language and comporting yourself like a responsible adult male.

Football: I am your stereotypical Ravens fan (doesn’t live/never has lived in Baltimore, blames the refs for every loss, etc.), so just putting that out there. But I have to ask: any love for the fact that they put the definitive period on the Patriots dynasty? All I’ll say is that after the unspeakably horror they made the Pats fans sit through in the Wild Card game, it made losing to the Colts almost bearable, which says a lot.
-That’s So Raven

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? Sure, I think we can give the Ravens credit enough for that.

Frankly, I’ve never really minded the Ravens or the Patriots. Being good AFC teams, they often meet the Steelers, and there’s no hatred like my hatred for the Steelers. In fact, here are the five NFL teams I hate the most:

1. Steelers
2. Steelers
3. Colts
4. Steelers
5. Rams

While our resident hater Christmas Ape can channel his bottomless well of bile toward whomever’s convenient, I’ve got a finite supply of impassioned contempt. Despite the occasional flare-up, I’m a pretty calm person. I do yoga. I can’t even hate the Seahawks’ division rivals properly. That Cardinals Hater’s Guide I wrote? It took me DAYS to compile that much swearing about a team I don’t really mind all that much.

Hello, I got some pussy burn on my penis.

You what now?

Had it for about a month and then I keep re aggravating the injury by not waring a condom or when my girlfriend is jerking me off before sex. So just wondering whats the best way to cure it.
-Ramrod

Okay, I don’t care what Urban Dictionary says, there’s no such thing as “pussy burn.” It’s called “chafing,” and you get it from not using lube when you’re jacking off all the time. If you even have a girlfriend, you didn’t get your chafing injury from her vagina, because vaginas don’t chafe penises. They simply DON’T. It would be counterproductive to the propagation of our species if they did.

Anyway, the solution: Neosporin, and a couple days of rest for your poor abused dick.

Captain Caveman,
I’m a freshman at a large state university. There is no shortage of attractive girls. Sometimes some even talk to me. Here’s my problem: I have no idea what to do with any of them.

Have you tried this?

Probably not. It’s more of an advanced move.

In high school I guess you could say I was socially a nonparticipant. I spent most of my time getting 67,000 kills in Call of Duty,

HARF

developing an interest in late 19th century Russian literature and various other pursuits that ensured the preservation of my virginity. Somehow I managed to have 2 girlfriends, but both were horribly awkward affairs that lasted less than three months with no physical contact worth mentioning. Also, I didn’t really like either of them, and basically went out with them because they liked me.

What a favor you did them!

So with this complete lack of social experience, I’ve been talking to a girl in one of my classes for awhile. She’s pretty, seems to have similar interests

Combat simulation video games and 800-word books?

and at least seems to like me enough to talk to me everyday. I don’t need to tell you that if I plan on not being a virgin forever I should man up and ask her out. I plan on doing so, but the problem is I have no idea what the norm is in college. I remember reading something Drew wrote saying he was so stupid that he asked girls on formal dates in college.

That’s because Drew went to dipshit prep school, then tried his hand at a big university before returning to the inbred teat of expensive northeast private school education. Now, don’t get me wrong: Drew is an exemplary father, husband, and writer, and we could all benefit by emulating him in those regards. But you shouldn’t necessarily listen to him about collegiate dating — even if he’s telling you to NOT do what he did.

Well, then what the hell do you do? As a freshman with a soul, and therefore unwilling to join a frat, I have limited access to parties and don’t foresee any situation that I’d be able to invite her to one. I don’t ever see her outside that class, no mutual friends, etc. My friends all either have girlfriends from high school they’re still with or are just as clueless as me. (As it turns out, I have two friends.)

Who the fuck has only two friends at a large state school? Don’t you live in a dorm? STOP PLAYING FUCKING VIDEO GAMES AND INTERACT WITH PEOPLE.

I know I shouldn’t ask her to come eat in the commons with me, but was hoping I could get some tips so I’m not exposed for the bumbling social retard that I am. At least not before hanging out with her.

After class, ask her if she wants to get coffee. Or say that you’re having trouble with the material and see if she wants to study for the midterm together. FIN.

And since this is supposed to be a sex mailbag: are girls really expecting me to be shaved down there? With no real reason to do so, I haven’t touched that mess. If I got with a girl who was unkempt, it definitely wouldn’t stop me. Am I right in assuming girls would be touchier about this?

Hell if I know. I don’t know any freshman girls. Unfortunately.

That said, let’s take some baby steps, okay? Here’s the situation: you’re an awkward, socially inept video game-playing virgin who made two friends in his first semester of college. You need to join some clubs — College Republicans, Hillel, the gay-ass rowing team, ANYTHING. Get your ass out of your room or the library or wherever you’re not meeting people and start engaging in social activity of some sort. Befriend someone who goes to the gym, and start tagging along. The more you’re around campus and DOING things, the more you’ll see and engage with people, and the more comfortable you’ll be around girls, and the more you might even get invited to parties.

That’s Social Interaction 101. Consider that a precursor to enrolling in Pubic Grooming next semester.

Football: Do you really think Stewart Bradley is that good? Everyone blamed the Eagles LB troubles on the fact that he was hurt, but I just think of him as a slightly better Mark Simoneau. And not just because they’re both white.
-Awkward McDorkington

No, he’s not that good. If he was, I would have heard of him.

Internet,
Fantasy: I guess I’ll bite the bullet and finally hop on this whole fantasy football fad.

Pet rocks and slap bracelets were fads. Fantasy football is a fucking cultural touchstone, and I won’t have you speak ill of it.

I like to research things in some amount of detail before I dive in, so I guess starting now might be nice. Any good beginner articles you would recommend?

Yes: the KSK sex/fantasy football mailbag.

The only thing you really need to prepare for is the draft. Google shit like “top fantasy running backs 2010″ and poke around the results. Look at stats. Check out Yahoo’s Roto Arcade blog a little before draft time. Examine which rookies might have good value in their offensive scheme — over the last two years, I snagged Matt Forte and Percy Harvin (both rookies with huge impact) — in the fifth round or later. Seriously, it’s not that hard.

Sex: I get pretty severe whiskey dick, to the point where I typically have to decide between having sex or getting anything beyond a slight buzz in an evening.

Brutal. The Sophie’s Choice of pleasure.

Building up a tolerance didn’t change anything, nor did losing that tolerance. I’m not too heartbroken that I’m missing out on the magical world of sloppy drunk sex, but the lady enjoys spontaneous things and I enjoy both good microbrews and getting laid as much as possible. Any suggestions? Internet searches returned nothing but clown porn and phallic-shaped shot glasses. I’m good at Google.
-Me

She likes spontaneous? Grab her when she gets out of the shower and have sex before you go out. Then drink up! You’ve earned it.

Anything more advanced than that, talk to your urologist. Maybe you can get some of those dick-hardening pills I keep hearing about.

Dear KSK,
Sex: To preface this, I am drinking alone on a Friday night.

I’ve been there. As recently as last Friday night.

Ok, so this is kind of a complicated situation. I was dating a girl for three years in college. She was (as queer as it sounds) the woman of my dreams. We rarely fought, we communicated well, and our sex life was amazing. She was absolutely perfect for me in every single way. Now, I graduated last May, and for some reason my Communications degree didn’t immediately translate into a career (WHAAAA????) and I had to move back home onto my mother’s couch. This couch happens to be 1200 miles away from my girlfriend, who was a year younger than me and finishing her degree. We tried the long distance thing for a little while and it just wasn’t working, so we decided to take a break for several months. As the time has passed, it has become clearer and clearer that we will not end up together. We still talk very frequently, and having been the people that we each spent the most time with over the past three years, we have become (by default) best friends.

Guhhhhh. How long is this email going to be? Because if it’s more than 90 minutes, I’d rather watch The Notebook. At least that has Rachael MacAdams.

The more we talk, however, the more I see a willingness in her to move on. Now, I am still very much in love with her, and the thought of her being with somebody else would absolutely crush me. This would not be as big of a problem if she weren’t so adamant about remaining friends with me. I care for her very much, and aside from being with her, would love nothing more than for her to be as happy as possible in any situation regardless of my involvement. Having said that, I have to at some point keep my own feelings in consideration, and while I don’t want to break off all communication with her, I feel that it’s the only way that I can ever fully move on. I was wondering if there is any protocol for breaking off a relationship like this? Should I really care this much? Or should I suck it up, stop being a pussy,

ding ding ding

and continue to suffer through the bullshit until I find someone else? My biggest fear being that I won’t.

I can’t guarantee that you’ll ever find someone else if you break off contact with her. However, I CAN guarantee that you WON’T find someone else if you keep making it clear that you’re her little dickless puppy of a best friend.

Whatever you do, stop being a passive character in your own life. Sack up and tell her how you feel. If she’s open to being with you again, damn the finances and move the 1200 miles back there. Make it happen. And if she ain’t feeling it, tell her that you need to move on and break off contact.

It takes a long time to get over someone you love. Like, a LONG. FUCKING. TIME. It sucks, but booze, sex with other women, and the passage of time will heal you.

Football:
Okay, this question is mostly for Ufford. I’m a Patriots fan (from before the asshole days if that can be believed) and I was just wondering what exactly Seattle fans are expecting out of Pete Carroll. He has never been a good NFL coach. He really hasn’t had to evaluate talent in eleven years, having been basically handed the best recruits in the country on a consistent basis. As a “player’s coach” he’s pretty much going to be pushed around by guys that are making ten times his salary. Also, he’s underachieved at every level of football in which he has coached.

I’m pretty hesitant to support Carroll’s case as an NFL coach, but I think that statement is stretching it. Even with USC’s habit of dropping a conference game they should win every year, I don’t look at that program under Carroll as “underachieving.”

Granted, he could have success in a pathetic NFC West, but am I really the only one that sees him pulling a Bobby Petrino and cutting and running as soon as shit goes sour in fourteen months?
-Rich

Sure, it could happen. But if he’s as bad as you say (and I secretly fear) he is, that would be a good thing for the Seahawks. (Also, the metaphor you’re looking for is “Nick Saban,” not Bobby Petrino.)

Greetings ass pirates,
Football first, are the Vikings going to miss Chester Taylor at all, or will purple judas get his shit together next season?

I’m sure they’ll miss Taylor. I’m also sure they’ll find another third-down back.

As for Adrian Peterson, I don’t want to discount the intelligence of the average football fan, because every fan with an Internet connection is just soooooo much smarter than every TV analyst and member of the mainstream media, but let’s look at the possibility that we might be overvaluing one or two fumble-prone games because they were nationally televised playoff games. In fact, Peterson fumbled less in 2009 (7 fumbles, or 2.2% of his carries) than he did in 2008 (9 fumbles, or 2.5% of his carries). Now, does he have a fumbling problem relative to other running backs? Yes. Are Vikings fans bitching excessively about a flaw of a monstrously talented football player? Also yes.

As for sex, I am a virgin dating a much more experienced girl (just came out of a long ass relationship) Is it a given that I will embarrass myself during our first sexy time session, or have I been made paranoid by the misfortunes of other mailers? I guess I should mention that shes not big on drinking(either of us), so I won’t be able to blame my drunkness if something goes wrong.
-Precious Booty

Everyone’s first time is embarrassing in some way, shape, or form. It’s nothing to be worried about. Just be glad that your girl at least has some idea of what to do.

KSK Life Advisers,
Football first:
1) Ten team, two keeper league, whom do I keep? McNabb (PHI), Fitzgerald (ARI), Wells (ARI), Grant (GB), Harrison (CLE), Ochocinco (CIN), and Smith (CAR) are the candidates. I’ve pondered it, and do not feel really good about any of them based on last year’s performance and off-season team changes.

There are only ten teams in your league, and THOSE are your choices? Blech. Fitzgerald and… uhhh… either Grant or Harrison.

Sex (not really):
No sex involved, but affecting the love life on my end. My wife and her friends decided one night that they wanted to go out for karaoke. They planned on drinking, so they asked me to DD. Under these circumstances, I usually drop them off and hang elsewhere so they can have their girl time. However, the particular bar they wanted to visit was a gay bar, and the girls hurled accusatory homophobe remarks in my direction for 30 minutes on the way. At that point I felt that I had no choice but to join them. We arrived, I get the girls their drinks and we get a booth. There is a two hour waiting list to sing, and while the girls are waiting, they point out a couple of guys that have been moving around the bar speaking to all the females. I had a feeling that I knew what was going on, and confirmed minutes later when they get to our booth: they’re straight and were trying to kick game where there wasn’t much competition. I didn’t mind that they take a seat with us initially, since the wife’s friends are both single. Unfortunately, both guys were especially attentive toward my wife, even though they had been made aware that she is my wife. One of the guys asked one of the girls to dance, and the other asked my wife. Instead of bowing out gracefully (after two drinks, not enough to plead inebriation) SHE TOOK OFF HER WEDDING BAND AND ENGAGEMENT RING, HANDED THEM TO ME, and headed to the dance floor.

FUCK. THAT.

They returned from the dance floor in time to sing their songs, and we left. After dropping her friends off, we returned home, and the wife let me know she was in the mood; however, after 30 seconds of foreplay, she fell asleep. The next morning, just in case she doesn’t recall anything, I explained what happened, and her response was, “I’m sorry.” I think that’s what infuriates me the most, because if the roles were reversed, we would not be together, and I would be sending her most of my paycheck monthly. She just handled the whole thing a little too nonchalantly. After a couple of months, I still can’t get this ordeal out of my head, but I want to let it go. How do I put this behind me? I think this could qualify as a sex question because I’d really like to get back to sex with her instead of just hate-fucking.

Other pertinent information: I would have danced with the wife had she shown any interest, so there was no question of me simply refusing to have fun with her. Prior to the guys coming to our booth, all girls agreed that the guys were certainly douches. I’m not a pushover, and could have easily dropped both guys, but that tends to ruin evenings, and I rather enjoy my (assault charge-free) lifestyle aside from this incident.
Sorry for the lack of brevity,
-Karaoke Cuckold

How do you put it behind you? Shit, man. It sounds to me like you already tried to put it behind you — and I get the feeling you did it without ever explaining to your wife how hurt and pissed off her actions made you.

At about half the weddings I’ve ever attended, the pastor or rabbi or whoever says something to the effect of “Love isn’t about looking into each other’s eyes, but looking at the world in the same direction.” It’s hokey romantic stuff, but there’s truth to it: in order to live your life together, you need to be able to see things the same way. So, fucking TELL HER how hurt and pissed off her actions made you. You probably explained her actions and your feelings to the KSK readership better than you ever did to her.

Ideally, once you’ve communicated your feelings, she’ll recognize how fucked up it was and understand that she hurt you. Eventually, though, you’ll have to meet her somewhere in the middle: all the apologies and make-up sex in the world accomplish nothing if you can’t forgive her.

For everyone else: the lesson, as always, is don’t marry a slut.

Hey CC, one of your female readers here.

Yay! They exist!

Sex: First, a little background on me. I’m 28, and I’ve had sex with three guys in my lifetime. I’ve done the serious relationship, and the fuck buddy. Have tried out different positions and locations. I’d say at this point I’ve had plenty of good sex, and have managed to have great sex a few times, but never anything mind-blowing.

All I want these days is mind-blowing, toe-curling, passionate fucking. I want a guy who’ll say ‘suck it, bitch’ (with conviction!) as I’m going down on him. Who’ll pull my hair when he bends me over the tailgate on my truck. I want the guy who will spank me and grab me so hard he leaves bruises. I want to have the threesome (another girl), and try anal. The only ‘love making’ I want to be doing is the morning after a wild night before.

Oh boy. You’re about to get a LOT of suitors in the comments.

Here’s the problem (I think this is the problem, although I’m sure you’ll let me know if something else is going on here): I only attract nice guys. The ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, touch me with kid gloves, take home to mom kind. Granted, there is nothing wrong with being treated well, but being taken out to dinner and given flowers doesn’t exactly get me wet. I’m sane (well, as sane as a woman can be), hold down a job, have no problem paying my bills, and lead a pretty pedestrian undramatic life. I guess I don’t really look the part of the vixen.

So how do I handle this? Should I slut up my look on a day-to-day basis and start running my errands in 4″ heels and a full face of makeup to try and attract a different type of guy (the asshole or douchebag)? Or stay with the jeans and t-shirt look but interact with the nice guys differently? I’m assuming your advice will probably be something like I should just tell the nice ones what I want, but having a guy tell me how badly he wants to fuck me after I’ve told him that’s what I want him to say takes all the fun out of it. And I know expecting a guy to know what I want without telling him is a bullshit woman trait, but I don’t care. Is it possible to have ridiculous sex in a normal, healthy relationship? Or do I just need to accept that the best sex will come via a fucked up, dramatic interaction with a total dickhead?
Thanks,
(Not so) Fat Hump

Wow, okay. A lot of material to work with here.

First things first: getting you laid properly. Anybody who’s worth his or her salt in the bedroom works off of social cues from his or her partner. And the cues don’t start when you enter the bedroom, they begin when you walk through the door and he sees you the first time. It’s not just about what you’re wearing — although 4-inch heels and a low-cut top send a different message than a hoodie and sneakers. It’s whether your hair is down or pulled back in a pony tail. It’s you pressing your chest against a guy’s arm when you lean in to listen to him in a crowded bar. Whether you discuss sex in a group of friends. How high up his leg you touch him when you ask him to come home with you. Et cetera and so on. Those are the clues that make a man think “THIS BITCH WANTS TO GET FUCKED” instead of “I think she likes me.” Eventually, you’ll find a guy who pulls your hair the first time you make out, and it’ll be ON.

And finally, a brief treatise on “nice guys” versus “assholes” and the state of masculinity in America. Here in New York City, I’ve found that making friends with other guys isn’t the easiest thing. There are plenty of smart dudes who are complete fucking pussies (your skinny-jean-wearing hipsters and tweedy bookish dorks), and there are lots of — how shall I say this? — Jets and Giants fans. The number of men who can display a basic level of intellectual dexterity while also be willing to defend a woman’s honor with his fists is alarmingly small.

So, for the male readers out there, consider (Not so) Fat Hump’s plight. Nerds, geeks, dorkbombers, and assorted shut-ins: do what you have to do to increase your credibility as a man. Generally, this means fewer books and video games, and more exercise and social interaction. Jocks and assholes: tone it down, Mr. Striped Shirt. Read some literature, watch independent cinema, and try buying a woman flowers. Perhaps one day we’ll all be decent human beings with good sex lives.

Nahhhhhhhhhh.

What with me devoting all my time to paying attention to TV news these days, I’m of course aware that tonight is the two-hour series finale of the much-beloved re-imagining of “Battlestar Galactica.”  Having seen enough of it over the last couple years, I can assure you that the nerds who tell you that “It’s great, it’s not just sci-fi!” are largely correct: it’s a well-acted and smartly written show for ANY genre (even if the plot has devolved into “Everyone’s a cylon!”).

And yes, it’s got plenty of eye candy: For the ladies, there’s plenty of Edward James Olmos (RAWR!) and Jamie Bamber as Lee Adama.  And in the T&A category, we get Grace Park, Tricia Helfer, and Katee Sackhoff.  So long, ladies.  We’ll always have you on DVD.

[More at Gunaxin]

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.

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.

Hey, it’s a match-up for former number 1 picks who actually panned out into pretty good players. What’s more, it’s a situation in which the two players actually interact with one another, not like when two superstar players who both play offense or defense happen to be in the same game and we have to pretend one’s performance can affect the other. Hey, look Purple Jesus put 125 on the ‘Skins. He totally shut down Clinton Portis! Anyway, WHO YA GOT?