Friday, September 26, 2008

WTF


SCENE: A remote dusty crossroads somewhere in the Southwestern United States. A MAN IN BLACK stands stoically at its center. MIKE RILEY enters stage right.

SATAN: Michael. I've heard your cries of anguish in the night. You've come to the right place.

RILEY: Where are we?

SATAN: This is where all the greatest blues musicians have come to trade their souls in exchange for musical prowess.

RILEY: Blues? I'm from Idaho. I coach football.

SATAN: Oh, my faithless son, you think this place has no power over football? How do you think Elway went 14 seasons without a Super Bowl win and suddenly wins two back-to-back despite the body of a 62-year-old Parkinson's victim?

RILEY: Well...

SATAN: Have you heard from Elway in the last ten years? Has anyone?

RILEY: Hey, wait a minute...

SATAN: Haven't you noticed that one of the "greatest quarterbacks of all time" doesn't even do Nutrisystem commercials? He's down here now. I let him go to Disneyworld first.

RILEY: Okay, I'm sold.

SATAN: Now, what is it you desire?

RILEY: I want Oregon State to be the best team in the country year in and year out.

SATAN produces a small TV remote control.

SATAN: Ooh...the whole team? How about your running back Jamiroquai?

RILEY: No, no, he's good enough as is. I want team success.

SATAN: It's just, aha, you know, these things, gosh, it's not really good with big targets. It's more for individual use. Most people who come to me are pretty selfish.

RILEY: Just do it.

Three years pass. The date is October 3rd. RILEY's Oregon State Beavers have just lost to Utah, 68-3. The screen fades into the same dusty crossroads. RILEY paces furiously in front of SATAN.

RILEY: What is this shit?!

SATAN: Hey, bro, I told you this thing was inaccurate. But chill yourself, hood rich, I figured out what the deal be.

RILEY: What? Stop talking like that.

SATAN: I can't quit this thang. I used it on myself. I just wanted to be cool.

RILEY: Whatever. What did you do to my team?

SATAN: Peep this. What happened was it made you totally mediocre, except you're completely invincible against USC at home.

RILEY: That's it.

SATAN: That's it, baby.

RILEY: That's bullshit! That's not even close to what I wanted!

SATAN: Hey, slim, cool it. You're the greatest gimmick coach in America! You can't beat anyone...except the best team in the country! You're totally unique!

RILEY: No I'm not! Harbaugh does exactly the same thing!

HARBAUGH enters stage left Road Runner-style, his legs moving in an indeterminate vortex below the waist.


HARBAUGH: HOW DARE YOU ASSHOLE! I AM NUMBER FUCKING ONE! THE FARM! WASH YOUR HANDS!

RILEY: What are you doing here?

HARBAUGH: THIS PRICK OWES ME MONEY! PAY UP, SCUMBAG!

SATAN: Hey, baby, cool it. I'll have it in three days. That's a big tab, you dig? I can't just snap my fingers and make it so. You know how it is.

HARBAUGH produces an Israeli anti-tank RPG and fires it point-blank at SATAN's head. SATAN explodes and dies. HARBAUGH sprints away.

HARBAUGH: GO BEARS! ANN ARBOR WILL BURN IN THE FIRES OF ALLAH!

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