Scenes From A Summer At Camp Ryan

08.11.10 7 years ago 79 Comments


Mark Sanchez: Hey, Shonn. We’re gonna be on TV tonight.

Shonn Greene: Yup.

Sanchez: That’s gonna be cool.

Greene: Yup.

Sanchez: You think it’ll hurt us? Lotta people watching. Lotta people hoping we fail. You think we’ll be able to handle all that craziness?

Greene: Yup.

Sanchez: How come?

(ground rumbles)

Greene: That’s how come, Greaseball.

(door flies open)



Sanchez: Hey, Coach.

Ryan: Oh, men. MEN. Oh, fuck a duck! Men, I took a shit this morning that should have been filmed by Steve Sabol. I’m telling you men, it looked like a cock! It had a head, a rim, a shaft… EVERYTHING. Looked just like the MagLite ol’ Holmes has tucked inside his Under Armour. ISN’T THAT RIGHT, DICKABOD CRANE?!

Santonio: Yes, sir.

Ryan: You ever shit a dick, Dickabod?

Santonio: No, sir.

Ryan: Well, you’re missing a bet. Because I ejected that shitdildo out with all the force of a fucking RAGING BULL!

(releases six-minute fart)

Now, first order of business: TELEVISION. Dickabod, we’re gonna be on the HBOtime tonight! And if I know anything about these premium cable fuckers, it’s that they like FUCKING! I need you and your fishing pole ready for Strong Sexual Situations tonight. I’ve already requested Kaylani Lei show up at camp to give you the business. I love Asian pornstars. I don’t know whether to fuck ‘em or napalm ‘em!

Santonio: Yes, sir.

Ryan: You fuck that girl HARD! And then bite her! And then swear! That’s a whole HBOtime thing! Second order of business: NICKNAMES! Rauncho Pauncho, I’ve been thinking about your new nickname all offseason long.

Sanchez: You have?

Ryan: You need a great nickname. One that tells people you’re ready to lead this team to the promised land. And that’s why I’m calling you PAPA FRITA. Because you’re like a dad, but also like a French fry! Everyone loves French fries, even dirty Mexicans like you, Nacho!

(double fists two double burritos)

Sanchez: Okay, sir.

Ryan: No. No, wait! Scratch that. Your new nickname is POONIO IGLESIAS. Don’t fight it!

Sanchez: I won’t.

Ryan: Third order of business: REVIS. Now, I know we all want Revis in camp, and he wants more money. That’s outta my hands. But Operation Save Revis is still in effect! So you keep sending him pictures from this camp to let him know what’s he’s been missing! The Gatorade coolers filled with flank steak! The hooker whirlpool we set up in the training room! The nude water skiing!

(gets boner)

Sanchez: What about the tire cat drill?

Ryan: Oh, yeah. Definitely send him that. He’ll be back in the fold in no time. NO ONE’S GONNA MISS OUT ON THE CHANCE TO STOMP SOME RAGGEDY PUSSY.

Shonn Greene: Hell no they ain’t.

Ryan: Fourth order of business: COLOR WARS. Now, we already stomped the shit out of those fuckers from Camp Pinewood in their color wars last week.

Little shits. That Michael J. Fox can’t play Capture the Flag for SHIT now that he’s epileptic! But I’m not satisfied, men. I want these other camps out there to know that Camp Ryan is NOT TO BE FUCKED WITH. That means we’re winning our Color War next week against those fucking PRICKS from Camp Coughlin. You hear me? I’m not letting those little Coughlin cunts beat us. Not in archery. Not in canoeing. Not in cat-stomping. NOTHING!

(wipes salsa off mouth, wipes on Sanchez’ practice jersey)

Sanchez: What do you suggest?

Ryan: I’m glad you asked, Poonio. Let it be known that the men of Camp Ryan are never above resorting to cheap, dirty, cruel tactics. Now, we don’t go against those fuckers from Camp Coughlin until Monday Night. So that gives us plenty of time to get to work! Poonio? Dickabod?

Santonio: Sir?

Ryan: I want you to take one of the canoes from the dock and paddle across the lake to Camp Coughlin TONIGHT. Remember, dip your paddle straight down! That gives you maximum pull, and helps reduce noisy splashes.

Santonio: Why are we going over there?

Ryan: Let’s just say I have something I’d like to deliver to them.

(fast forward to Camp Coughlin, the next morning)


(peels back sheets)


(back to present)

Ryan: Fifth order of business: PUSSY. It’s been a week now, gentlemen, and I still have not heard any word on whether or not you bagged those lasses over at Camp Menominee.

Sanchez: Well…

Ryan: Well, what?

Sanchez: Well, last night Greene and I were able to sneak over there with a fifth of vodka and…

Ryan: Oh! Oh! Oh, little Poonio went off and got himself a couple of summer meatballs! THAT’S GREAT FUCKING HUSTLE! THAT’S RICKY WADE HUSTLE!

(slaps Sanchez on ass, HARD)

Sanchez: Ouch!

Ryan: That’s great leadership, Poonio. What did they look like? Did they have great asses? DID YOU GET LOW ON ‘EM? I’m telling you, these girl campers have asses made of HELIUM! I could ride that ass to Canada!

(hands out copies of Velvet to everyone)

Sanchez: They were very nice, sir.


(everyone brings it in)

Ryan: Men, this has been a magical summer. We’ve done some hittin’, banged a few preteens, and scalped a bunch of drunken Indians. We’ve made some memories. We all remember Candy Bar Night. And none of us will forget when Ferguson took out his guitar and sang “Country Road” around the fire that one night. THAT WAS FUCKING GREAT STRUMMING. Even BLT over there had a good time. Didn’t you, you little shit?

LaDainian: I guess.

Ryan: See? Even that sulky faggot enjoyed himself! But summer’s ending soon, and we’re gonna have to get down to business. Men, the time for fun and play is just about over. Tonight, those cameras are gonna roll, and you’re gonna be expected to be the fucking team I know you can be. You understand?

Everyone: Yes, sir!

Ryan: Lotta people said I ran my mouth off this offseason. Said I went too far saying you men were going to win a Super Bowl. But I’m not afraid of expectations. A man who’s afraid of expectations doesn’t expect anything of himself. I expect great things from you men. You know why? Because you are fucking WINNERS. You are the fucking scourge of humanity, sweeping over the land and laying waste to all in your path. I didn’t hype you up this offseason. If anything, I didn’t say fucking ENOUGH. We’re gonna win the Super Bowl. We’re gonna go 16-0. We’re gonna beat every fucking team out there 45-0. THEN WE’RE GONNA TAKE THEIR MONEY AND FUCK THEIR WIVES. DO YOU BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT?

Everyone: Yes, sir!

Ryan: We’re gonna fucking ATTACK. We’re gonna punch and kick and scratch and bite until those fuckers on the other side of the lake are nothing but a pile of fucking meat. Then we’re gonna go over to Camp Menominee and TAKE SOME FUCKING V-CARDS. ARE YOU DOWN WITH ME ON THIS?

Everyone: Yes, sir!


(all hands in)


Everyone: KILL!

Ryan: That was great. I think I gotta go shit another horse cock.


Sanchez: Revis will be so pissed he missed this.

Around The Web