I wanna talk to you. NOW.

Oh, you have a meeting with some people in Hollywood? Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. fucking Brando. I didn’t know I was supposed to wait for your fucking weekly salad meeting. You fucking pansy ass fuck. You talk to me NOW, you hear me, you little prick? The fuck is the respect here? Why don’t you go moisturize your asshole a little more?

Sit down.

SIT FUCKING DOWN. Have an olive.

Now I’ve been talking to Mr. Parcells. He’s a patient guy, Jason. Way more fucking patient than I am. The fat fuck. If it were up to me, I’d fucking disown you like I’d disown any homosexual offspring. But Mr. Parcells ain’t like that. He’s more prone to rationality and all that shit. So he asked me to sit down and talk to you, man to man, to get your side of the story. All he wants to know, and all I want to know is this:

What’s with all this fucking dancing shit?

Seriously, what the fuck? What kinda man dances? It’s a fucking disgrace, is what it is. Dancing is fucking faggot shit. We all know that. What are you doing, goin’ out there in those fucking outfits fucking twirling around? In public, no less! You’re making a fucking mockery of everything we do here.

Men don’t dance, okay? Growing up in my neighborhood, you didn’t dance. If your fucking girl brought you to some stupid fucking club, you just stood there on the dance floor while she danced around you. Then she’d drift away from you on the dance floor and start dancing with her girl friends. Then you’d get all pissed and say, “Hey, what the fuck? Why aren’t you dancing with me, you stupid twat?” Then she’d get all mad because you weren’t “really dancing.” Then you’d say, “I was fucking dancing, honey. Just ‘cause I don’t shake my ass like some two-bit whore doesn’t mean I ain’t dancing.” Then she’d throw her purse at you. Then you’d drag her off the floor by her hair and kick her ass.

That’s how it’s fucking done, okay? If you danced like that, then maybe this wouldn’t be an issue. But you had to go there doing shit like this:

The fuck is this? Can you fucking explain this? Where are your fucking sleeves, asshole? Huh? And what’s with the look? Was the cock about to go in your mouth, or had it just been taken out? You understand how this makes us look? People are gonna think of dolphins as all cute and cuddly now. And what about this?

The fuck? What are you, Yul Brynner, fucko? I’m sorry, but this is fucking unacceptable. If other teams knew we were harboring a faggot, we wouldn’t be doing business with them much longer. Now the girl is hot. I’ll give you that. I’d tickle her asscrack with my mustache. But just because she’s a piece of ass doesn’t mean you can just go around wearing an untied bowtie.

What the fuck is with that? The only time that’s acceptable is if you’re drunk after your cousin’s wedding. And you ain’t drunk. I THINK YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE DOING.

Did you just roll your eyes? You got a lot of fucking nerve showing that kind of disrespect, kid. I could fucking cut you today, then allow you to sign with any other team you like at an enormous salary. Would you fucking like THAT to happen? I think not.

So straighten the fuck up, kid. Quit dancing, and get back to showering with the rest of the team and slapping your linemates on the ass. Or else, something will be done.

Hey ey ey, how YOU doin’? Let me start off by sayin’ what a fucking honor it is to come here to fucking Miami and work for a fucking guy like Bill Parcells. I mean, look at that cocksucker sitting over there. Is he not just the fucking best?

(raises glass of Chianti)

Cheers to you, Billo. You big fat cumguzzler you. No, I fucked YOUR mother! How you like that shit? Real fucking comedian here! You believe the balls on this prick?

Anyway, like I said, being here in fucking Miami is fucking fantastic for me, and for my lovely wife Donna, and for my lovely children, ALL of whom are honor students. None of that cystic fibrosis retard shit.

You people have a really nice town. With some really fucking hot broads. I swear I was walking down the street the other day and I saw one broad with half her tits sticking right out of her shirt. That’s real fucking nice. Tony like. I could do without some of the fucking assticklers parading around on roller skates here, but that’s just me. I didn’t grow up in a faggot culture. It’s not part of my heritage. Personally, I think it’s all a little fucked, but you take the good with the bad.

Now, I know you’re wondering just what kind of fucking cocksucker you got runnin’ your team. Well, let me tell you somethin’. You ain’t gotta worry about nuthin’ no more. Mr. Huizenga here is the fucking best. You bald old fuck, you. Hope you don’t mind if I never paid my late fees at Blockbuster, you fucking corpse, you. Fucking late fees. I’ll return a movie when I fucking want to, you liver-spotted cock.

You also got Mr. Parcells here, who, again, is the fucking best. And I don’t wanna hear anyone here speak ill of Mr. Parcells. Okay? You speak ill of Mr. Parcells, you gonna have to answer to me. And so help me God, I will fucking bash your goddamn head in with a fucking coffee mug if I hear that shit. You got me, fuckos?

Oh, you wanna know about the offense? You ain’t gotta worry about that, okay? It’s taken care of. How? Eh, you don’t need to know that right now. Come on. Show a little fucking faith, will ya? Jesus. Just know that I’ve got that shit all fucking wrapped up. You and me, Dolphin fans. We’re gonna have EVERYTHING. You watch.

It’ll be way better than that last limpdick who was here. What was that stupid fuck’s name? Cameron? Cam Cameron? C’mon! How can you coach a fucking team with a fucking name like that? That guy probably only studied tape of cocks being sucked, am I right? Huh? Huh? The fuck.

So, long story short, nice to fucking be here. Got some real fucking great shit happening in the pipeline. And I’m ready to fucking go. We’re gonna have it real fucking good. I’m hungry. Let’s go get a fucking sub.