Manning: Hay Dayluhss, why wasn't you at my poker tourneyment on Mondee?
Clark: I RUN SHORT POST AND YOU THROW ME DA BALL!
Manning: Heh, yer a funny one Dayluhss. I trahd to sent you that eyun-vahte, but I gyuess the mailmayun wuddint quite as accurte as good 'ol Peyton's arm, huh? You missed out on a hootin' good tahme! It was me an the O-lahne - (leans across Reggie Wayne, who's sitting between them, to whisper) but just the white ones, heh heh - (back to full volume) just puffin stoagies an talkin 'bout how funny I been in mah advertahsmeeunts.
Wayne: Peyton, I can hear you. Coach Caldwell, can you please do something about Peyton's egregious southern racism? Dungy was too much of a pushover, but you still have the potential to be a bit more imposing.
Caldwell: (stares blankly half-comatose, half-focused on what's going on in the game)
Manning: Aw, Reg, you know I love ya just as much as the next white guy!
Clark: DALLAS SKIN WHITE!
Offensive Coordinator Tom Moore: Speak for yourself, Manning! And Wayne, what I tell you 'bout sittin on that end of the bench. Go sit with Freeney and the rest of that goodfernuthin' defense.
Manning: Naw, it's awlrite coach. Reggie can stay. He ain't like theyum.
Moore: You stupid sonofabitch, that's what you said about Harrison before he went O.J. outside that bar of his.
Wayne: Wow...still within earshot of this conversation.
(The Jags have moved the ball to the Indy 33 yard line, which has failed to attract the attention of Manning, Clark or Moore.)
Manning: Anyway, as I was saying Dayluhs, I think you should get out more. Maybe do sumthin' other than football, like me. I dun hosted that Saturday Nahts Lahve an done all them advertahsments. In fayuct, I don't recawl ever seein' ya take them pads off. You done drive home in 'em every day after prac-tuss!
Clark: DALLAS ONLY FOOTBALL PLAYER! TEXAS CITY NO COUNT!
Wayne: Coach Caldwell, we're on the verge of losing perfection. CALL SOMETHING, PLEASE!
Caldwell:
Manning: Oh look, Dayluss! Reggie's Fray-unds in green done finally lost the game. Come run the clock out with me!
Clark: (sprinting full-speed onto the field) DALLAS FINISH GAME STRONG!
(Wayne puts on his helmet and starts to jog out on the field)
Moore: Woah there buddy, where do you think you're going?
Wayne: I caught the game-winning touchdown. I think I deserve to be on the field for the win.
Moore: HAH! You're a funny one Wayne, I'll give you that. Consider yourself lucky I didn't send to to the bus 20 minutes ago. Now go sit down.
Wayne: Fuck my life.
Caldwell: (stands completely motionless for 10 seconds after time expires) Win. (Turns around and walks to locker room)
No comments:
Post a Comment