(Chiefs practice bubble)
Matt Cassel: Oh man oh man. 0-3. Oof. I never thought we’d go 0-3.
Larry Johnson: No kidding. This isn’t gonna be a fun week, man.
(takes two steps, falls down)
Matt Cassel: Time for me to step up and lead this team, LJ. A lot of people thought the Pats were done last year when I came in to play. But I hung in there, got better, and we managed to win. If I could change minds then, I can change minds now.
Larry Johnson: Yeah man, but that was when you had Belichick coaching you. Coach Haley ain’t no coach Belichick.
Matt Cassel: He thinks he is, though.
Larry Johnson: Oh, crap. He’s comin’.
(Camaro door flies open)
Todd Haley: Who the fucked parked in my spot? You two! Who’s the slapdick who parked in COACH HALEY’S SPOT?
Larry Johnson: Actually, that’s my car, Coach.
Todd Haley: Oh, is it? Is it now? Did you not see the fucking sign in front of that spot? Did you not see that it reads SPACE RESERVED FOR TODD HALEY, HEAD COACH? Can you not fucking read? Was your mother some illiterate black tard?
Larry Johnson: Whoa, that’s WAY out of line.
Todd Haley: Get your fucking low rent car out of my high rent spot. That’s a fucking BRAND NEW Camaro. I get tons of action in it. The kids at the country club who I give tennis lessons to get little kid boners when they see it. You don’t have a car worthy of THAT spot.
Larry Johnson: Easy, coach. Jamaal offered to park it. He must have parked it there as a goof.
Todd Haley: Oh, so is this your fucking playground? Are you only here to make jokes?
Larry Johnson: No, Coach. I didn’t mean it like…
Todd Haley: You calling me a liar?
Larry Johnson: No!
Todd Haley: You trying to steal my fucking car, son?
Larry Johnson: No! No way! It was just a prank. You know. To foster some team camaraderie.
Todd Haley: You think I don’t know how to foster team unity or chemistry, asshole? You think I don’t know how to bring men together, you surly little ass ‘stache? Because I do. IT’S YOUR FAULT WE DON’T HAVE CHEMISTRY, ALONG WITH FIVE OR SIX OTHER MEN IN THE LOCKER ROOM I’D BE HAPPY TO NAME. You better shape the fuck up, boy.
Larry Johnson: Don’t call me boy.
Todd Haley: I’ll call you anything I want. Boy. Son. Cuntmonkey. LITTLE MISS JIZZSTAIN. You listen the fuck to me, BOY. I learned from the BEST, BOY. I coached with Bill Belichick, who won THREE WORLD TITLES, BOY. What the FUCK have you ever won, BOY?
Larry Johnson: But YOU didn’t win those titles.
Todd Haley: YOU ARE FUCKING CUT. YOU ARE CUT AND NO LONGER WELCOME HERE. BOYYYYYYYY.
Larry Johnson: What the hell?
Cassel: Coach, take it easy.
Todd Haley: Oh, take it easy? I suppose that’s what you think makes a WINNER. Tood Haley doesn’t take it easy, son. He takes it HARD, and he takes it to your fucking sister.
Cassel: What the fuck?
Todd Haley: I’m gonna lay it all out on the line here, you pussyfeathers.
(chews on toothpick)
I didn’t want any of you. You’re all useless and pathetic. But fucking fatass Pioli said I have to work with what I have. So whatever. We’re 0-3 because you boys are fucking LOSERS. I have given you perfect game plans. I have given you everything you need to go out there and win. Yet you continually managed to FUCK UP everything I’ve worked for. I can’t sleep at night because I know you COLONHUGGERS can’t execute MY perfect game plans. You are ruining MY team and MY reputation, and I fucking hate all of you. You are fucking less than human. From now on, I’m segregating this facility. Only I get to use the bathrooms and water fountains. Those bathrooms are for AWESOME PEOPLE, and I’m the only one of those in this whole goddamn city. People here are so ugly, I wanna fucking DIE.
Cassel: Whoa, whoa, Coach. You’re out of line. We lost those three games TOGETHER. As a team.
Todd Haley: Goddamn right you lost as a team out there. Which is why I’m blaming ALL of you equally. YOU ALL SUCK. Fucking carry my bags.
(puts on mirrored sunglasses)
And stop talking to the fucking media! Coach Belichick taught me that a team needs ONE voice. And that voice should be me. The rest of you have hideous voices. LJ, you talk like Stafon Johnson does now. I’m the only one here who isn’t gonna sound like a complete SHITHEAD when there a mic in front of him. In fact, I don’t want any of you talking AT ALL. Anywhere. I fucking talk for you. That’s how it’s gonna work now. Even while you’re sitting at home talking to your faggot cats.
Todd Haley: Didn’t I just fucking tell you not to talk? What, your mother never taught you to listen? Was she busy getting fucked by the mailman during your listening classes?
Cassel: Jesus, you are the worst coach EVER.
Todd Haley: Fucking count on it, YOU FUCK.
Cassel: I wonder if I can fake an injury.
Larry Johnson: Oh, I do that after every run. Lemme show you.