[Scene: MLJ Headquarters: Conference Room which really just consists of a bunch of couches and 12 mini-fridges. On one couch sits Hef and Spence. Across from them sits Joe Flacco.]
Spence and Hef: Joe!
Spence: You’re doing it wrong, man.
Hef: You’re fucking doing it wrong.
Spence: The fuck, Joe?
Hef: Jesus Christ.
Joe: Well shit, guys, that’s why I’m here isn’t it?
Spence: [big puff off officially licensed MLJ bong] Isn’t it what?
Joe: We’ve been over this, Spence. Put that shit away.
Spence: Maybe I’ll just stare at my Polamalu bobble head long enough that he’ll return it for me.
Joe: Actually that gets at why I’m here. I need you two guys to start making fun of me on the internet again.
Hef: Sorry Joe [takes long drag off cigarette] but we’re retired. [blows smoke in Flacco's face.]
Joe: I can make it worth your while, guys, I’m desparate. Have you seen how shitty I’ve been this season? Ever since you guys stopped writing those posts where I’m a bumbling idiot without any commonsense or timing, my Quarterbacking skills have gone down the shitter. 56% completion?!? 13 TDs versus 8 INTS?!? A passer rating below 80?!? These are hardly the numbers of a future Hall of Famer?
Hef: Who’s a future Hall of Famer?
Spence: Kurt Warner.
Joe: I’m talking about me, guys.
Spence: Remember when Tyler Palko made you transfer?
Joe: That’s what I’m saying. Your posts used to inspire me to be better. Remember when you guys wrote that WonderPets post about how I needed a bunch of cartoon characters to teach me how to be a better quarterback? Well that pissed me off something fierce. After that post I put up 300 yards and threw for 3 TDs.
Spence: And an interception…
Hef: Against Kansas City. Big fucking deal.
Joe: See, this is what I need. I need your hatred of me as a quarterback to become public again.
Hef: It’s not just us, Joe.
Hef: A lot of people hate you, Joe.
Spence: Because you fucking suck.
Joe: I know but there’s something about you two that drives me to insane levels of rage. It might have something to do with the fact that you are two of the least likable people on the planet.
Spence: Unlikable? Me?
Hef: Eat a dick, Joe.
Joe: Like, for example, do you know how many interceptions I have thrown to Troy Polamalu in my career?
Hef: Gotta be in the hundreds. Maybe even thousands.
Joe: One. I’ve thrown one interception to Troy Polamalu.
Spence: Pretty big interception though…
Hef: He returned it 40 yards for a TD.
Spence: In the playoffs…
Hef: In the fucking playoffs!
Spence: That’s gotta count for, like, twelve.
Joe: Are you guys even Ravens fans?
Hef: Good god, no. Fuck Baltimore
Spence: Fuck you for even insinuating that I’d be a Ravens fan, you cocksucker.
Joe: This is what I mean. You two are such fucking pricks about stuff that shouldn’t matter to you and yet you build it up and build it up until it becomes life and death. This is why I need you to help me out. Can I pay you to write a post about me being a shitty quarterback? Money isn’t really a concern for me.
Spence: [grumbles] Whatever, lets just get this over with. Whenever you’re ready, Princess.
Hef: You’re still fucking doing it wrong.
Joe: I, uh, wasn’t trying to do the stare that time.
Spence: Well can you please pull your head out of your ass and use it to stare at something then?
Spence: [exasperated sigh]
Hef: This is getting old. Lets make a deal…if you get your fucking stare right, we’ll come back for another week. Deal?
Joe: Yeah, we have a deal.
Spence: Alright then we really need you to get into character and that means you need to fix your shit.
Hef: Jesus can we get him a mirror? Can you see yourself? This is not the stare, Joe. That’s constipation.
Spence: Here, Joe, look at me. I can do a pretty good impression of you.
Joe: That’s what you want?
Hef: What the fuck are you doing? That’s fucking awful. Look at me.
Spence: That’s pretty good actually.
Hef: I used to take acting classes. I’m pretty comfortable with my body.
Joe: How’s this?
Hef: That’s the same fucking thing you’ve been doing.
Spence: I feel like we should get a Derrick Mason fathead or something.
Joe: Okay, what about…this?
Hef: Why are you smiling?
Spence: Where did the hat come from?
Joe: I don’t know if I can do it, guys.
Hef: You fucking quitter.
Spence: You make me sick to my stomach.
Hef: No wonder Ray Lewis is the face of the franchise.
Spence: I bet your mother drank when she was pregnant with you.
[Joe stares at them, his face shaking with rage, his eyes become red with anger]
Joe: I’m ready.
Hef: I don’t know. It’s better.
Spence: That’s pretty damn close. Could we add more to the unibrow?
Spence: Joe, can we color in more unibrow? On your face? With a permanent marker? Joe?
Hef: Fuck, if he’s really in character we could be here all day.
Spence: Should’ve asked for $85.
Hef: We should probably focus on a plot for the post?
Spence: I feel like it shouldn’t be on a football field?
Hef: Too obvious. Agreed. Let’s mix it up a little.
Spence: Something topical, man. Like the Penn St. scandal or St. Barts or something.
Hef: Joe is in the locker room staring as Jerry Sandusky diddles a 10 year old boy in the shower. He doesn’t try to stop it, he just stares and stares.
Spence: But how do we fit Troy Polamalu in? Oh shit! At the last minute, Troy swoops in and steals all the evidence proving that Ray Gricar and Sandusky were secret lovers and that’s why Gricar was killed by Sandusky.
Hef: Troy swoops in and steals Joe Paterno’s memory.
Spence: Troy Alzheimers?
Hef: You really are a dick.
Spence: Howabout Polamalu swooping in and returning Ray Gricar’s laptop?
Hef: Jesus Christ, this stuff practically writes itself.
Spence: You start writing, I’ll call Rex and tell him we need a gif of Polamalu spiking a hard drive.
Hef: I’ll call our lawyer and let him know we might need him around next week.
Spence: The man has only one look, for Christ’s sake! Blue Steel? Ferrari? Le Tigra? They’re the same face! Doesn’t anybody notice this? I feel like I’m taking crazy pills! I invented the piano key necktie, I invented it!
Hef: You’re the only person who found that movie funny.
Spence: Shut up.
Joe: Hey guys…what do you want to, you know, write about? Maybe put me on a football field with a bunch of shitty QBs and I’m teaching them how to be great?
Hef: Uh, yeah, Joe. That’s what we’re going to write about.
Spence: That’s actually not a bad idea. Let’s see if we can get him to pay us for a second post.