Wade: Ahhhh, nothing quite as relaxing as a hard-earned bye. The players got a nice, light workout today, and I've got the assistants studying game film for any of the three teams we could face a week from Sunday. I think it's time I got to work on my New Year's resolution.
(gets on treadmill in office)
Phew! This is harder than I remember! Just gotta get in the groove... C'mon, Wade!
(door flies open)
Jerry: YEEEEEEEEEEEHAWWWWW!!! I thought I smelled pan drippings in here!
Wade: Oh... (panting) ... No.
Jerry: Get off that treadmill, Rosa Porks! Look at you. Your t-shirt's soaked with gravy!
Wade: Sir, that's my sweat. I'm trying to get healthier in the new year.
Jerry: The hell you are! You'll get a fucking heart attack when I TELL you to have a heart attack! Don't even think about freelancing on me!
Listen up, you disgusting food blister. You got more important things to be doing than marinating in your own juices.
Wade: Oh, no. What do I have to do now?
Jerry: That goddam Simpson whore tried to sink our season! I want YOU to make sure my boy ROMO doesn't invite her back to the stadium when we kill those Seattle faggots!
Wade: Sir, it's pretty unlikely we'll face the Seahawks.
Jerry: Who said anything about football, turdcurd? I'm inviting Schultz and Bezos for some golf this weekend, then Johnson's gonna blast their heads off when I give 'em a tour of the locker room! HOO WEE! Can you believe that?!? I'M CRAZY!!!
Wade: You hired Tank Johnson to murder two billionaires?
Jerry: HIRED? We already have that felon under contract, you goddam Hefty bag of Chunky soup! It's YOUR job to convince him when to do it!
Wade: And you don't want Jessica Simpson here with Romo when our defensive tackle is killing your enemies?
Jerry: I don't want her here EVER, Fatsy Cline! I want them broken up by the end of the week or I'm canceling your Christmas bonus! Say goodbye to your bag of jalapeno poppers!
Wade: Sir, how am I supposed to break up our quarterback and his girlfriend?
Jerry: Easy. Check out this cherry piece of ass!
Wade: Mr. Jones, that's my daughter.
Jerry: You bet your motherlard of a keister it is! That's why it's so perfect! You can set 'em up tomorrow!
Wade: Sir, I don't know if--
Jerry: Look at that little piece of Texas tail! She's got her momma's legs and her daddy's titties!
Jerry: Now, ROMO likes 'em famous, so play up her new movie and tell him she's gonna win a damn Oscar. And tell her to play it fast and loose. I ain't gonna lose a Super Bowl because that slut didn't give him the full casting couch treatment.
Jerry: Don't act surprised, Peter Porker! Your daughter's been auditioning in LA for over a year! She's seen more wieners and batter than a Mayer-Butterworth wedding!
Jerry: HOO HOO! I can't wait for my boy ROMO to dump a load of Arlington man chowder on her head! I want a full report on whether she can sit down the next day! And pencil me in for next Wednesday. Double-J needs his ashes hauled!
Wade: I hate this job.
Jerry: Wahoo! I'm gonna win it all this year thanks to that tramp's tangy little juicebox! You're my best hire ever, Billups!
Jerry: YAAAAHOOOO! ¡ARRIBA ARRIBA! ¡ÁNDALE! I AM FUCKING CRAZYYY!!!