Oh, Sweet Wilma Flintstone. DAMN.
I am fucking HIGH!
Can’t slow my roll! Even Jeremy Maclin’s mystery herpes ain’t gonna slow down MV7. I got everything I need for this season: LeSean, DeSean, probably some other Sean, Nnamdi, this 3D pegasus sticker they sold me at the Rite Aid… Look at that pegasus, man. If I look at it this way, its wings are down, but if I look at it THIS way, its wings are up! That’s SORCERY, bitch.
(door issued tersely worded warning to open or face potential locking out)
Goodell: Michael, glad I found you!
Vick: Oh! Oh, shit! It’s my red-headed stepdad!
Goodell: Michael, we have a bit of a problem.
Vick: I know! The Rite Aid had NO Visine! THE FUCK?
Goodell: It’s not that. Listen, we need to talk about this GQ article.
Vick: Oh, you mean the one from the Raisin Man. That was one fucked up white boy. Ate raisins ALL THE DAMN TIME. Went on and on about baseball like a damn BITCH.
Goodell: Yes well, you see this part where you intimated that we forced you to sign with the Eagles instead of the Bills or Bengals?
Vick: Oh right! I do! You said you’d put my mom into foreclosure if I signed with Cincy. CLEAR AS DAY. I may be high, but some things still stick around in this dome!
Goodell: Actually, I do believe that joining the Eagles was your choice.
Vick: It was?
(The Vick home, 2009)
Goodell: YOU WILL SIGN THIS FUCKING CONTRACT OR I WILL PACMAN JONES YOU INTO THE GODDAMN POORHOUSE.
Dungy: Listen to him, Michael. You must consider what is best for THE LEAGUE, for what is best for THE LEAGUE is also best for you. And for Your Maker.
Vick: But I wanna start! Lee Evans said he can’t wait to drop balls 50 yard downfield from me! CAIN’T DO THAT IN PHILLY!
Dungy: (takes off belt and lashes Vick across the face with it) SILENCE!
(back to present day)
Goodell: Absolutely. It was YOUR decision.
Vick: Huh. I must have been… Huh. Shit. DAMN.
Goodell: Listen, a simple statement will clear this all up. Let me help you with it.
(whips out pen)
Vick: Okay. (starts writing) “Dear Mom,”
Goodell: You don’t have to address it. It’s not a letter. Just write the statement. “I, Michael Vick…”
Vick: “I, Michael Vick…”
Goodell: “…was in NO WAY influenced by the NFL or commissioner Roger Goodell…”
Vick: “…was in NO WAY influenced by the NFL or commissioner Roger Goodell…” Are you sure I wasn’t influenced?
Goodell: Absolutely. Not influenced AT ALL. Now keep writing. “…in my decision making.”
Vick: “…in my decision making.” Is that the right wording? I can’t decide.
Goodell: IT’S THE RIGHT WORDING. NOW SIGN IT.
Vick: But who’s this Goodell fella you keep mentioning?
Goodell: I AM.
Vick: Oh. Really? WOW. That’s a serious-ass plot twist right there.
Goodell: Just send out that statement. And if anyone asks you, the NFL has NEVER influenced your decision-making.
Vick: And what do I have for dinner tonight?
Goodell: Chinese. Gotta go Chinese.
Vick: Damn! That’s a bold choice! Can’t go wrong listening to y’all!