Suspended for a year and newly divorced from his wife, a lost and disconsolate Sean Payton has embarked on a mission led by an unknown spectral entity that has taken the form of Drew Brees’ floating disembodied head. Payton does not know where this journey will lead him or what its purpose is, only that he must follow it.
Sean Payton: That tears it. I have to return to my team. They’re falling apart without me.
Drew Brees: No, Sean. You can’t.
Sean Payton: Who are you to stop me? You’re just a stupid, balding translucent head resembling the quarterback of the team I used to coach.
Drew Brees: Fine. Go back if you want. You’re still suspended. You can’t take over the team. You’ll just be right back where you were and won’t have accomplished anything more than being another distraction. What do you think you would do?
Sean Payton: I’ll tell them to DO THEIR JOB!
Drew Brees: That’s it?
Sean Payton: Well, they’re obviously not DOING THEIR JOB or else they wouldn’t be winless and giving up 900 rushing yards a game.
Drew Brees: Sean, have you learned nothing from this quest?
Sean Payton: I learned that I shouldn’t accept any pills that Jon Gruden offers me.
Drew Brees: Very funny. You see that house up ahead?
Sean Payton: Of course. How could I not? It’s big as sh*t.
Drew Brees: That’s our next stop.
Sean Payton: What am I supposed to do here?
Drew Brees: Knock on the door.
Sean Payton: All right. But if I get shot, this is on you.
[Knocks, door flies open]
Philip Rivers: YA BETTA NOT ASK ANNNNNYYYYYBOOOOOOODDDDDDDDAAAAAAAYYYYYYY ‘CAUSE I SAID NO FUCKING SOLICITORS
Sean Payton: Philip Rivers?
Philip Rivers: Hahahahaha. What have we here? If it isn’t national disgrace, Coach Visorcunt. Why the fuck are you at my gorgeous palatial estate, Visorcunt? No one carrying out your bounties? You come to take care of me yourself? Well, bring it, bitch.
Sean Payton: I’m not sure why I’m here, to be honest. Someone, something told me to come here. I know it sounds strange, but –
Philip Rivers: OH, YOU THINK YOU’RE ON A DIVINE QUEST, DO YOU!? BULLSHIT. GOD DON’T TALK TO YOU! THE LORD ONLY SPEAKS WITH ME! WE HAVE INSIDE JOKES THAT YOU WOULDN’T GET! HE CONFIDES IN ME WHEN HE’S SICK OF LISTENING TO FORNICATORS AND LIBERALS.
Sean Payton: I don’t know. I don’t think it was God. I can’t explain it.
Philip Rivers: DAMN STRAIGHT IT WASN’T! You know what? It don’t even matter. I’m about to chase you off my properly then I’m gonna float up a storm on Sunday against your pathetic defense. Haha, it’s not even YOUR pathetic defense anymore. Soon, that baldy QB with the birth skidmark on his face will know once again why I was drafted to replace him. Because I am his superior!
Kid: Hey dad, who is this faggot?
Philip Rivers: LITTLE WYATT RIVERS! What did I tell you?
Wyatt: Sorry. LORD-HIGH KING LASERFACE, who is this faggot?
Philip Rivers: Oh, I don’t know. Some faggot. Now run along, your father has important shit to talk.
Drew Brees: Sean, I have an idea.
God: PHILIP RIVERS! BEHOLD THE AWESOME PRESENCE OF THE LORD!
Philip Rivers: Fucking finally. Where you been at, Big Guy? Because of me there’s no more sex before marriage and faith is at an all-time high. You owe me a Super Bowl, you creating cunt.
God: All in due time, my son. First, one task you must carry out: you must speak out in favor of gay marriage.
Philip Rivers: What? Fuck that noise. It’s unnatural! Fags are unholy!
God: I am God Himself and I am telling you that they are not.
Philip Rivers: You don’t know shit, God. YOUDAMMIT! This is sickening. I am sick! All I’ve done! All I am! It was all for you and now I find out you’re a no-good fag lover! Well, I’ll show you. No more winning for you, Lord. LASERFACE IS TANKING GAMES FOR SATAN FROM NOW ON.
God: Do what you must.
Philip Rivers: WHAT? HUH? WHAT? I DON’T NEED YOUR PERMISSION! NOW I GOTTA SPEND THE REST OF THE DAY DRAWING PENTAGRAMS ALL OVER THIS HOUSE! WYATT, FETCH YOUR DADDY SOME GOAT’S BLOOD!
Drew Brees: That should handle that. You feel any better now, Sean?
Sean Payton: I guess. I’m confused. Are you actually God? That would explain a lot.
Drew Brees: Even I don’t know what the fuck I am, Sean.