Friday, January 24, 2014
Sarah: Honey, it’s me. Can you please come out of the basement? You’ve been locked down there ever since you got back and you are starting to scare our six children (ed. note: poor kids).
Shut-In: LEAVE ME ALONE! YOUR VAGINA SMELLS WORSE THAN JUSTIN SMITH’S JOCK STRAP.
Sarah: But, baby, there are people here to see you. They say that they have a delivery of khaki pants that need your signature.
(the old hermit crawls up out of the basement appearing to have aged 40 years over the last 5 days)
Everyone: SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!
Shut-In: What is this? Who are these people? Do I know any of you?
Sarah: OH SNAP! I got you good, you limp-dick fuck! Welcome to your surprise 50th birthday party!
Jim Harbaugh: But my birthday is December 23rd, sugar tits.
Sarah: I know that but we haven’t seen you at all in 5 months so we are celebrating it today and, more importantly, trying to shake you out of your depressed stupor. Now go upstairs and clean yourself up.
(Jim cold cocks Sarah in front of the entire party…that is the last we will be seeing or hearing from her today…Jim returns 10 seconds later looking like his old self again WITH RED PEN NECKLACE…ejaculates on the face of his unconscious wife)
Jim: I don’t know what my WHORE second wife told you all, but I am still in no mood to celebrate or smile or even ice if you can believe that. I want you all to leave NOW.
(a familiar figure cloaked in all white slowly walks toward Jim…the mystery man with the KKK outfit punches the birthday boy in the nuts)
John: RISE AND SHINE, FUCKFACE! FOR THE NEXT WEEK, I’M STILL THE CHAMP AND THE CHAMP WANTS TO PARTY BRAH STYLE! EVERYBODY WHIP YOUR DICK OUT AND SMACK IT ON THE PERSON TO YOUR LEFT!
Jim: It’s always nice to see my asshole brother but I really don’t want to do this. Last Sunday took its toll on my soul and I had a bad heart to begin with. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing this. You saw what I did to Sarah just now—
John: It was ELITE. I am so proud of you. Hell, Joe Flacco is proud of you for doing that and he eats Mighty Wings!
Jim: Yeah, well, two weeks ago that punch would have put her into a coma. Now I’m so weak and fragile that she will be conscious again sometime Tuesday. I am not myself.
John: Here. Drink this. This will snap you out of your faggy funk.
(takes big pull from unmarked jug…immediately hurls on all the guests)
Jim: What is this shit?
John: Oh, just a little something I like to call HALOTI NGATA’S DIARRHEA AND PINEAPPLE JUICE! You need to snap out of this ASAP, Bro-lt McCoy (was not invited). There’s a reason why no one else in the family wanted to come today. Mom and Dad are tired of explaining to the neighbors why they have a winner and a loser for sons. Joani is being a cunt somewhere.
Tom Crean: Hi brothers! Happy belated birthday, Jim! I got you a CRIMSON & CREAN t-shirt! Get it?
Jim & John: FUCK OFF AND DIE, TOM. IF YOU CAN’T BEAT NORTHWESTERN THEN YOU HAVE TO LEAVE.
(Crean turns around to leave—huge mistake—Jim cuts through his spine with one of the thousand machetes he has lying around the house)
Jim: Fuck that guy. Well, if these assholes aren’t going to leave even after witnessing another savage episode of domestic BRAHlence, let’s go around and talk to everyone.
John: GREAT! You know Steve Young.
Jim: Thanks for coming. You already set the world record for longest time that a Mormon pig fucker has been in my house. Now get out.
John: Hey Vernon, how’s that big black rattlesnake hanging!
Jim: NICE FUCKING GAME ON SUNDAY. WHY DON’T YOU CRY FOR ME NOW, TOBY! IF IT WERE UP TO ME, I WOULD HAVE THROWN YOU OFF THE PLANE MID-AIR SUNDAY NIGHT BUT THE AIR MARSHAL SHOT ME WITH FOURTEEN TRANQUILIZER DARTS.
John: This is getting to be a lot of fun for me. Alex Smith! How the hell are you?
Jim: What the fuck are all these Mormons doing here? Alex, I made a huge mistake. My heart and head said white but my balls said black. I should have stuck with you. We’d be polishing trophies and each other’s knobs right now. I’m truly sorry.
(John rips out Smith’s still beating heart)
John: A BRAH never apologizes to anyone. You should know better. What would dad say if he heard about this?
Jim: Who the fuck parked their Escalade in my pool!!!
Aldon Smith: That was me, coach. Mrs. Johnson’s first grade class said that I couldn’t park on top of them anymore. Coach, do you know where I can get more sizzurp?
(the brothers make their way around the guests; barely noticing any of them…Crabtree is bawling in the corner, Hitner is spearing lawn statues, Alex Boone is lifting Smith’s car out of the pool and it lands on Frank Gore’s monster dong, Barry Zito is there for some reason, Total Recall is playing music that everyone hates)
Jim: Hey, faggot, do we have any food here? I haven’t eaten shit since I went down in the basement five days ago.
John: I’m glad that you asked, turd breath. Haloti, show my bro what you’ve got cooking for this luau!
(Ngata removes banana leaves to show a roasted Pete Carroll, cooked to perfection…you can see Jim’s erection growing and growing until his zipper breaks and pokes Ngata in the gut)
Jim: I love you, brother.
Randy Quaid: Save the neck for me, John!
John: Jim, I know that it is tough on you to constantly fail and disappoint the family, yourself, me, and all of BRAH NATION. But you need to come back to us. In times like these, I like to harken back to words that I just made up: “if you can’t beat him, eat him”. So it’s time for you to eat Pete Carroll and get your groove back.
(Jim happily obliges and is knee deep in a leg within seconds)
Jim: This is fantastic. Hey! Give me some more of that diarrhea juice!
John: I knew that you would love it.
Jim: But what about Sherman? He needs to feel my wrath.
John: Don’t you worry about that THUG. I called in a few favors.
(Ray Lewis boards flight to Seattle)
Jim: Wait, usually when I start eating cooked human being, the Feds storm in. What gives?
John: I called in an anonymous tip of heavy gang and cartel activity over at Kaepernick’s house. One look at him and they’ll busy for a coon’s age.
John: Don’t mention it, dick queef. We’ve all been there. Now let me suck the juices out of Pete’s head.