Wade: Woo! Well, that was one close shave. Thank ya thank ya thank ya, Jesus. I do believe we’re 5-0. You know what? I’m gonna give the whole team Tuesday off! Damn straight! They’ve earned it after workin’ so hard, and that might give me a free hour or two to myself as well. I think I’ll even take the wife to dinner. I bet she’d like that. I could take her to Morton’s and buy her a shrimp cocktail. I reckon a day of rest will help get ready for those mean ol' Patriots next week.
Well, I guess I’ll just pack up the ol’ laptop here. It’s 5 o’clock, so I’m just gonna casually assume that my boss has left the building and that I’ll be able to make a clean getaway. Nope. No chance he’ll show up just as I’m leaving to give me a shitload of work and ruin all my plans. That never happens to anyone.
Wait a second. I hear footsteps.
(door flies open)
Jones: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEE DOGGGAY!!!!!
Wade: Oh, Lord no.
Jones: Did you see that?! Did you see what my ROMO did to those Buffalo faggots? FIVE goddamn interceptions and he still pulls that game outta his red hot ass! Even when he's bad, he's still a goddamn STAR! He's just like Johnny Walker, only REAL! And without that little homo Anthony Michael Hall playing him! Good thing he won, or else I'd have gutted your fat ass like a beached sea lion! Hoo boy, my ROMO is waking up echoes of NINETEEN NINETAY TWO, YOU BIG FAT SUMBITCH!
Wade: Mr. Jones, if you don’t mind. I have to get home for the evening.
Jones: Oh, you got things to do, do ya?
Jones: Thinkin’ about goin’ home to relax for a bit?
Jones: Maybe even takin’ the wife to dinner?
Jones: Thinkin’ about breakin’ into a Cinnabon and stealing all the frosting?
Jones: YOU’RE NOT GOIN’ ANYWHERE, YOU BIG FAT CRAP! It’s Patriot week now, Sailor Boy! And I want your fat ass right here in this office, thinkin’ up new ways to make my boy ROMO a bigger star than that California dipshit Brady! That fuckin' Belichick. I tell ya, you can't get away with dressin' like that here in Texas! We gotta little more pride down here than those pasty New England fuckers. Am I right, Deluise?
Wade: But sir, these young men have been working very hard, and I think they deserve a day off.
Jones: You fat little pig. Hey, I think I see a spider over there spinning cute messages into a web for you, you Kentucky Fried fatass! I don’t give a shit if you let the players off the hook for a day. They worked hard and they deserve it. But the only thing YOU’VE been workin’ on is a case of Canadian bacon! I puttin’ your fat ass out on the plantation for a day, you fat fucking Koosh ball!
Wade: Well, all right. I’ll get the film prepared.
Jones: Fuck the film. I got bigger plans. Fatboy, I have a new vision for this team. When I watched us beat those fat disgusting Pollacks from Chicago a couple weeks back, I realized just how important this whole futbol Americano shit is for our Brand Loyalty! That’s why I want you to start coaching the team… IN ESPANOL!
Jones: No, no, no. The word you should use from now on is: QUE?!
Wade: But I don’t even know Spanish!
Jones: Did you think I didn’t think of that, Tubby? Hell, I know your fat ass doesn’t speak any Spanish. The only Mexican you’ve studied is the ingredient label on a fucking Old El Paso jar! No, I’ve hired a special language consultant specifically to help you convert the entire playbook into Spanish. C’mon in, darlin’!
Dora: Hola! Me llamo Dora! And this is my pet monkey, Boots! We’re going for a picnic lunch! El almuerzo!
Jones: Almuerzo! I love it! Can you believe this little wetback will help us out for just thirty cents a day? And I gotta tell you, her mother is one intense PIECE OF ASS! She rode me like I was a goddamn Arabian mustang!
Dora: Let us play the drums! Las congas!
Wade: Sir, this is insane. We can’t teach the players Spanish and convert the entire playbook in just one day! That girl isn’t even real! She’s a cartoon character!
Jones: Well then, you make one shitass businessman, Pudding Tits! There is no I CAN’T at goddamn Valley Ranch! You work with little Paco here.
Jones: Whatever the fuck your name is, kid. Make it happen, Buffalo Butt. You’re not leaving this complex until my boy ROMO’S poster is on the wall of every Nicaraguan child that has a wall to look at! And beat those Patriots, El Gordo! That's Spanish for "The Fat Man"! I like it because it means you're fat!
Jones: WAAAAAAAHOO!!!! AYE AYE AYE!!!! ANDALAY ANDALAY ARRIBA ARRIBA I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!!