10/07/07

12:01 PM
Travis Johnson's Brain: You know...I have a lot of respect for Trent Green. I mean, it's not just any ol' white boy that can throw like a girl and still be able to make an NFL career. That's impressive. Do yo' thing, whitey.

Legs: Did we stretch enough? I dunno. Damned airconditioned dome, keeping us cold all the time. This is stupid.

Eyes: Yo, our offensive is looking pretty good. Matty is spreading the ball around. OH SHIT!!! Did you see that pass to Andre?!? Hells yeah!

Mouth: LET'S GO, OFFENSE! PUNCH THIS IN!

12:18 PM
Brain: Okay. Let's do this. 7-3, baby. Let's get a three and out!

Mouth: LET'S GO, DEFENSE! THREE-AND-OUT, BABY!

Eyes: End around! Run, motherfucker, run!

Legs: Let's go!

Eyes: FUMBLE! No, wait, he's running the other direction.

Legs: Oh, hell yeah. Tedd Ginn ain't shit! We're gonna catch him. This is gonna be some highlight reel shit right her--

Trent Green's Head: BONZAI!!!!!!!

Travis Johnson's Right Knee: OW!!! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?!? JESUS CHRIST, THAT HURT!!! DID WE JUST TRIP OVER A GARDEN GNOME AGAIN?!

Eyes: We're seeing double here. Hold on. Okay...that was...OH, HELL NO! That was the motherfucking quarterback!!!

Brain: Who the fuck does he think he is?! Nobody hits motherfucking Travis Johnson like that! Nobody!! We should tell him that, too!

Legs: C'mon, we're heading to the bench.

Right Knee: (with each step) Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Brain: Go on, mouth. Tell him what's up!

Right Hand: (points) I'll help you.

Mouth: Motherfucker! Don't ever motherfucking hit me like that again in your motherfucking life or I will break your motherfucking ass in half, you punk bitch motherfucker! I ain't even play--


Travis Johnson's Eyes: I think he's dead.

Legs: That don't mean the mouth is wrong. Let's keep moving, though.

Right Knee: Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. What's that fucking clicking sound? Ow.

12:20 PM
Right Knee: You know what, Brain?

Brain: What?

Right Knee: I don't have so much respect for Trent Green anymore.

Brain: Nah, me neither.

Right Knee: In fact... you know what... FUCK Trent Green!

Brain: Yeah! He's like... um... scared. Like a, uh, a fucking...SCARECROW! Like some Wizard of Odds, shit. Scarecrow motherfucker. Get the wizard to give you some courage and shit!

Right Knee: I think it was the Lion who wanted courage.

Brain: Which one of us got the B- in book readin' at Florida State, you gimpy bitch? Besides, that don't make sense. Lions are brave motherfuckers. Kings of the jungle book and shit. Scarecrows is scared, obviously.

Right Knee: But they are supposed to scare the crows. Ah, fuck it. Nevermind.

Brain: That's right! Can't NOBODY step to this knowledge.

3:45 PM
Mouth: The bottom line is, it was a malicious hit. It was uncalled for.

Brain: Tell 'em that scarecrow shit I came up with!

Mouth: He's like the scarecrow. He wants to get courage while I wasn't looking, and hit me in my knee instead of trying to hit me in my head.

Brain: Yeah!

Eyes: People seem confused by that. Are you sure it was the scarecrow?

Brain: They just can't keep up with my intellect, fool. Now, listen mouth. Give them something about how the hit was dirty and that nobody likes dirty hits. Maybe throw some religion in there, just so no one thinks you are a jerk.

Mouth: God don't like ugly, you know what I mean?

Brain: Perfect!

Labels: 2007 Season, Fake Conversations with Real People, God hates ugly, Injury bug, Travis Johnson

Posted by matt on Wednesday, October 10, 2007 at 11:08 AM | Permalink