DREW ROSENHAUS: Plax! You’re out, man! Oh I missed you so much! Give your favorite superagent a hug!

PLAXICO BURRESS: Alright, man! Shit, you want me to start doing your laundry, too?

DREW ROSENHAUS: Sorry, man. It’s just…it’s just great to see you back on the outside, man. We’ve missed you. The league misses you. I felt bad that I couldn’t help you while you were in there, Plax. That I couldn’t protect you. But now that you’re with us again, I’m going to do everything I can to get you back to your same state of mind as before. You’ll be carrying your Glock back around in your sweatpants in no time.

PLAXICO BURRESS: So you get any calls from any teams?

DREW ROSENHAUS: Uhhh, well there’s a lockout right now, Plex. Teams are forbidden from contacting players. So…uh…nobody has been allowed to contact me about you.

PLAXICO BURRESS: But they want me, right? They know what I can bring to the field, right? Superior athleticism tempered with a horrible work ethic? They want me, right?

DREW ROSENHAUS: I told you, man. Teams aren’t allowed to call. Next question.

PLAXICO BURRESS: Don’t you think it’s a little weird that Donte Stallworth killed a guy and only got two weeks in jail, whereas I only shot myself and would up doing almost two years of hard time?

DREW ROSENHAUS: Next question.

PLAXICO BURRESS: I can still be a productive receiver, right? Even though I turn 34 in August?

DREW ROSENHAUS: Next question.

PLAXICO BURRESS: Why can’t the GOP find a competent nominee for the 2012 race?

DREW ROSENHAUS: Next question.

PLAXICO BURRESS: Did you see X-Men First Class yet? I’m kinda sad that the one gay guy won’t be in it.

DREW ROSENHAUS: Hugh Jackman?

PLAXICO BURRESS: No, the other one.

DREW ROSENHAUS: Ian McKellan?

PLAXICO BURRESS: No, the other one.

DREW ROSENHAUS: That one guy in that animated Easter Bunny movie?

PLAXICO BURRESS: …I think so. What was his name?

DREW ROSENHAUS: I don’t know. Next question.

PLAXICO BURRESS: Do you have a gun I can borrow? You know, until I can get back on my feet?

DREW ROSENHAUS: No.

PLAXICO BURRESS: Please?

DREW ROSENHAUS: No.

PLAXICO BURRESS: Come on, man! Leigh Steinberg would give me a gun.

DREW ROSENHAUS: There’s a 9-millimeter in the glove box. Now let’s go smoke some weed.

Plaxico Burress had a couple of visitors over the weekend, unfortunately they brought along some contraband that didn’t make it back to his cell.

Burress’ visibly pregnant wife, Tiffany, and their 3-year-old son, Elijah, visited him Saturday and again yesterday. On Saturday, his wife attempted to bring him a GE microwave oven but was turned away by guards and had to lug it back to her white Range Rover.

Plaxico and Tiffany had a brief conversation before the guards made her leave with the microwave, a transcript of which follows.

Plaxico: What the hell is this?
Tiffany: You said you wanted a cake.
Plaxico: This isn’t a cake.
Tiffany: No, that’s a microwave. Good one too. Same one Jack Donaghy uses. You can use it to make cake.
Plaxico: But that’s not what I asked for.
Tiffany: You know I don’t cook!
Plaxico: [looking inside the microwave] What the hell is this, some kind of prison microwave cake recipe book?
Tiffany: No, that’s a file.
Plaxico: A file?
Tiffany: You said you wanted a damn file in the cake. Man, what the hell’s wrong with you?
Plaxico: I meant a metal file.
Tiffany: Are you stupid or something? You can’t put metal in the microwave!
Plaxico: [applies palm of hand to his forehead region]