Des: Welcome to another
edition of the Chicago Bears football pre-game show. The Bears face off against
the Texans, for some reason. Will the Bears pull off a stunning upset against
the champion of the AFC South (with a 9-7 record), or will a weak offensive
line, a rebuilding defense, and less-than-special team put the Bears in
position to face a Trump-esque defeat?
To answer these and similar questions is our panel of
experts: Concord Wainwright Peabody, Captain Silas Charles “Mister Jaws” Red-beard,
Modre, the trans-Western guru, the Prissy Minion, Doctor Sally McChesty, Ellie
Mae McGillicutty, former Bears Coach Marc Trestman, and the bed spinning
insights of Drunky McDumbAss.
Redbeard: ARRRH, mateys! Normally,
I’d be citing the prophetic revelations of obscure deities lost in the mists of
history to determine how the Bears will do this season, but there be no need in
the 2016 season, for the mandarins who govern the NFL have decreed that the
Bears shall have an easier schedule than a college freshman whose drunken
stumblings have mathematically eliminated him from pursuing a degree in late
September. Indeed, the Bears only play against 4 teams who earned a winning
record last year, and two of those teams are in the NFC North, so the Monsters
of the Midway have no choice but to play those teams. But I digress.
The Bears will go 10-6 this year, defeating the Texans,
Eagles, Cowboys, Jaguars, Buccaneers, Giants, Titans, 49ers, and split the
Lions. They will also defeat the Washington team whose owner has probably
endorsed Trump by now. Unfortunately, the Bears will experience difficulty
against the Colts, Packers and Vikings. Still, the 10-6 record will give
Chicago fans false hope until they face a slightly more competent opposition
next year, not unlike what the Democrats will experience the next two years.
Sally: That’s some really
subtle political commentary, Captain.
Redbeard: Thank ye for
opening the door wide enough for me to shoot a cannon through, matey! Before
discussing Trump, let me get Godwin’s Law out of the way: Hitler! Hitler!
Hitler! Now that I’ve dispensed with that, allow me to express me admiration
for future President Trump’s managerial style: As a fellow aspiring symbol for
evil incarnate, I can’t help but respect Trump’s open embrace of political
darkness with his choices for campaign advisers: Roger Ailes, Steve Bannon, and
David Bossie. ‘Twould be as though Lex Luthor ran for president and openly put
Sinestro, Gorilla Grod, and Brainiac as his campaign advisors! I’ve tried to
create me own League of Bearded Evil without success, featuring meself,
Blackbeard, and, uh, probably… Bluebeard? Although now that I think about it,
Des, ye’ve got a pretty good panel of evil going on yerself with this blog.
Sally: Is gross incompetence
a form of evil? If so, would you welcome, for the first time: former Bears
coach Marc Trestman!
Trestman: Oh, ho, ho, ho, ho!
Les bons kudos, mon ami Desmond for
taking the comedic gesture of—uh, instead of taking the easy way out and hiring
a person who is, uh, how you say “successful” as a Bears performer—uh, player,
is the word—un jouer, if you will,
like your Mike Ditkas, or your, how you say, Thomas Waddle, or Brian Urlachers,
your legends of Bears Football. You have turned instead to one of your greatest
failures of the Chicago football Bears, by which I mean myself, Monsieur Marc
Trestman, former Chicago Bears coach—leader—the helmsmen, if you will, of the
Bears through their worst, darkest period.
Sally: Coach, why do you
suddenly have a French accent? You never had one when you were the coach of the
Bears.
Trestman: Why do I suddenly
have the accent francais? Is that the
question that is troubling you? It is because I was once the coach of the
Montreal Allouettes before coming to befoul your Chicago football Bears. That
is the weak buttress, the weak conceit if you will, that is buttressing this
comedy, which is not—it is not, how you say, “analogous”, if you will, to the
buttress of the Notre Dame Cathedral which your pathetic Trump Towers are but
not but an echo. Monsieur Le Trump,
you should know that quantity does not overtake the quality. But I digress. And
now that I have concluded the main focus of my visit, which is to introduce my
character to you, the reader/listener, let us now turn to what I do not wish to
forget: my analysis of Chicago Bears recent struggles, which is also important,
and soon to be enchanting, will come now.
I am sure is your unspoken question: How is the Jay Cutlair cette dimanche? He is one who cannot be
coached, who lacks the je ne sais quoi
that your most elementary Pere Warner
American footballer receives along with your eye make-up and the mouth guard.
It is true I had a hand in his ruination when I told him to throw the ball 20
yards when I meant 20 meters. The metric conversions were always a sore spot.
It is true that when I was consumed with the anger and frustration that I would
become a spewing volcano of angry French profanity. But when I would
communicate with the flash cards, the results would be no different.
Sally: Thank you, Coach.
Trestman: I would hold up the
two flash cards. One with the Bears receiver and a smiley face underneath it
and one with an opposing defender on it with a circle-slash mark through it
like a Mille Bornes card, but nothing
would work. I could not break through the cultural impasse.
Sally: Let’s turn now to
another commentator with unique speech patterns: Concord Peabody.
Concord: The Bears have the
most wins in season opening games, the most of any NFL team. Granted, the Bears
and Packers were the only two NFL teams in existence from 1840 to 1960, but
that’s still a proud tradition to build on!
Concord: But let’s turn to
the present: With no ground game to speak of, Jay Cutler will rely solely on an
air attack this Sunday. A one-dimensional offensive strategy never fails—in football,
on the battlefield, in the corporate world…
Sally: …and in comedy. Drunky
McDumbAss! How’s it going in tailgate land?
Drunky: Hillary Clinton was
specifically talking to me when she mentioned a “basket of deplorables”, which
is what I usually buy at the liquor store.
Sally: And I thought “basket
of deplorables” referred to the Bears offense. Ellie Mae McGillicutty. Your,
uh, “thoughts.”
Ellie: Hillary Clinton called
us Trump fans a “basket of deplorables”, which sounds like some weird
compliment the Prissy Minion would give to Des.
Prissy Minion: Thank you.
Ellie: The insult was
meaningless. It was like water rolling off a duck’s back, if by “water” you
mean “Jack Daniels”, and by “duck” you mean “the numerous chickens I stole from
the neighbor’s farm”. No, us Trumpinators get insulted every day—on social
media, at work, whenever we watch anything on TV that’s not Fox News, by the
one college graduate who hasn’t left town yet…
Sally: Isn’t a “basket of
deplorables” how Dr. Seuss described the Grinch?
Ellie: Exactly. It’s the Jon
Stewart version of Lindsay Graham, “I declare, you, suh, are a cad, a rouge,
and just a—just a—basket of deplorables! Good day, suh!”
Sally: Prissy Minion. It’s
finally your turn.
Prissy: Oh, Des, who is
strangely absent for most of this episode. You’re a basket of deplorables I
would hunt for every Easter Sunday.
Sally: Sit back and watch,
sports fans, as the Bears face off against the Houston Texans, a team they have
never beaten. But I thought the Generals were due!
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