What happens when you take a group of ESPN's NFL crew and drop them in Miami's premier gentleman's club? A whole lot of fucked up shit, that's what.
The following account is entirely fictional...although it's almost assuredly true.
Berman walks straight up to the owner and plants a big man-kiss right on his lips before being led back to a private lounge.
Berman: What is this shit? Moet? I don't drink Moet, I'm Chris fucking Berman! Listen up bitch, you go drag your droopy tits into the back and make with the Dom--and sausages, where the fuck is my kielbasa! I like to be nice and greasy for the dancing girls. The Swami has spoken!
TJ: That's right, you the man Boomer!
Berman: Hell yeah I am! Who couldn't love a big man in florals?
TJ: I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth.
Berman: That's an odd thing to say to me, Chris Berman.
TJ: You're a very handsome man.
TJ: Nothing! Hey, what's that retard doing?
Irvin: Hey Mystique, how you been girl? You ready to party with me and my friends? Good, now go lay on the table so we can take some lines off of that flat ass. Shit, that's the only reason they keep you around this place, you just a big tittied coke tray.
Hoge: What's going on? Why are the women taking their clothes off, stop that! Why are you touching me? NOOOOO!
Jaws: Relax Merril, that's what they do here, they take off their clothes and dance for you.
Hoge: Ewwwww, why? These are not my kind of women.
Jaws: OK, so point out one who is...no Merril, that's a poster...no Merril, that's a load-bearing column. Come on big guy, pick out one of the women with big boobs and no shirt...Jesus Merrill, that's Berman.
Hoge: Oooh! I like that one over in the corner.
Irvin: You talkin' bout Miss Collins? That's Carrie She's the damn owner. (sniffle)
Hoge: She's the most beautiful woman in the world.
Irvin: That is AWFUL! She's a chain-smoking sixty year-old with a bad hip--and I heard she gave herpes to Delonte West. Why don't take a lap with my beautiful female over here. This is Vincetta Youngblood, she's the hottest bitch in Miami.
Hoge: Yuck! She's all smooth, soft, and curvy, Carrie is a seasoned woman.
Young: Jesus Merril, lighten up. Look, even I'm getting a private dance. Yeah...grind that shit...mmmm, talk dirty to me you harlot! Yeah that shit's wild! Now gyrate your pelvic arch around my engorged phallus!
Hoge: Steve! You're a man of God!
Young: Oh shit, that's right. Hey Crystal, I'm from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and I'd like to introduce you to a very special book---now would you kindly slob on my knob.
Jaws: You see how he did that Hoge? Let's take a look at that play from the endzone camera. Now look right here, Young has his sights set on his intended target. Now he has to sidestep the rush then he moves up in the pocket and fires a rope down his receiver's throat. That's what makes Steve Young's game Hall of Fame worthy.
Hoge: I'm very uncomfortable right now. I think I want to go back to the hotel.
Irvin: Bullshit, you're getting a dance. Hey Raven, show this bitch-ass fullback how to be a man.
Hoge: BAD TOUCH!
Jaws: Fuck Merril, how am I supposed to enjoy the dancers when your fag voice is drowning out Bon Jovi? If I want to maintain this erection I need Livin' On a Prayer to course through my veins.
Out of nowhere Salisbury emerges through the curtain.
Irvin: Guys I hate to sniff 'n run like this but I'm taking a few of these females back to the hotel to meet up with Nate and Erik. Come on Merrill, I'll give you a ride.
Irvin and Hoge exit
Young: Thank the Lord, the buzzkill is gone.
Jaws: Yeah, Merril's a real fucktard.
Young: Merrill? No, I was talking about Irvin, I fucking hate that shiteater.
Jaws: That makes a lot of sense. He is the only one on your set with a personality. You're a
Young: I'm sorry I couldn't hear you, I was counting all the diamonds in my rings... Hey Boomer! if you and your parrot are done with those sausages the new girl is about to take the pole. Her name is Cherries Destiny.
Berman: Cherries "My" Destiny...FROM!
TJ: Florida International!
Jaws: I have to ask, is that an act or are you two just brain damaged? I've broken down all the film and I still can't tell.
TJ: (barely audible pac-man sound effects)
Berman: They don't play enough Huey Lewis in this place.
TJ: Huey Lewis!
Young: I'm going to go the bathroom to purge for awhile.
Jaws: Would you guys just shut the fuck up? You're missing one hell of a show over here! Let me break it down for you. Cherries starts off with the splits to draw everyone's attention, then just when you're least expecting it she slides over to the pole and begins rhythmically humping it's base. That precision ground game is what makes her such a special young talent... Oh dear, it appears I've climaxed. I'm going back to the film room.
TJ: You remember that time you played catch with the Bucs?
Berman: Of course.
TJ: Yeah, that was cool.
Salisbury: Hey guys where did everybody go?
Berman: I hadn't noticed, I was starting at myself in that mirror on the ceiling... I'm Chris fucking Berman!
Salisbury: Oh Jesus, you guys are such homos. Watch how a real man operates... Hey Brandi! Nice shoes, wanna fuck?... Yeah, you think you can even handle Lil' John? I was an NFL quarterback--I'm super cereal! You should be stuffing bills down my jockeys... That's a prescription sock! Get your fucking hands out of there bitch!
Salisbury tosses the dancer across the room directly into Berman's folds)
Berman: Oh yeah, that's the spot. Stay right there and don't move. Ahhh, that gravitational pull is coming in handy already. It's good to be Berman.
TJ: That's right Boomer, the ladies can't stay away!...Hey Chris, that girl really isn't moving.
Berman: Oh shit, I think she smothered herself in my glory. Hey, at least she died on a trip to the pleasure dome.
Salisbury: I guess this means the night's over.
TJ: You guys head back to the hotel, I'll take care of the body--again.
Salisbury: Hang on a sec, I might as well fuck the corpse while it's still warm.