All right, gather ‘round dickholes. Today’s the big day. MY SUPER BOWL. The third one of my magnificent, glorious career. And I’ve got some words of inspiration to lay on all you maggots, so clean the suck out of your ears and listen up.
As you all surely know, I won my first Super Bowl with the Colts single-handedly back in ’07. Then I had another one stolen away from me in ’10 because my dipshit teammates couldn’t stop the Saints from picking off one of my passes late in the 4th quarter. So now here I am, with a record of 1-1 in NFL title games, and today will be the all-important rubber match. The one that will likely define my eternal football legacy, and cement my reputation as the finest athletic specimen in all of recorded history.
SO GODDAMMIT, DON’T YOU ASSHOLES FUCK THIS UP FOR ME, UNDERSTAND?
I’M LOOKING AT YOU, WES WELKER. You don’t think I remember how you dropped that perfect pass from Tom Brady a couple of years ago that would’ve won the Super Bowl for New England? Oh, I remember. And yes, it was FUCKING HILARIOUS THEN. To this day, I still jerk off to that photo of Brady sitting defeated on the turf while he was looking your way with murder in his eyes. But goddammit, don’t you pull that butterfingers shit with me today. If it’s the 4th quarter, and the game’s on the line, and I throw you a perfect pass that hits you right in your tiny little midget mitts, you CATCH THAT SHIT or so help me, I’ll shove so much Old Spice deodorant gel up your ass your crap will smell like my Grandpa’s armpits for a year.
I’M ALSO LOOKING AT YOU, DEMARYIUS THOMAS. What’s that? You think you’re hot shit because you had 92 catches for 1,430 yards and 14 TDs this year? WRONG, TWATHEAD. I GAVE YOU THOSE NUMBERS WITH MY LASER-LIKE PASSES. So now you have to go up against Richard Sherman. And you just know that loudmouth douchesponge is gonna do anything he can to stop you from catching my perfect darts. So I don’t care what he does to try to get inside your head, STAY FOCUSED. Even If he starts talking about your ugly girlfriend or your skanky sister or your stupid looking face, DON’T LISTEN TO HIM no matter how hurtful and/or true his statements may be. I need you to be sharp if I’m going to win this game.
AND I’M LOOKING AT ALL YOU WORTHLESS COCKGOBLINS ON DEFENSE. No, I don’t know any of your names. Why should I, when you were 19th this season in total defense, 25th against the run, and 27th in first downs allowed? THAT’S FUCKING HORRIBLE. Just because you have the luxury of playing on a team with the greatest QB in the history of the planet Earth does NOT give you the excuse to dick around out there and let the other team score on you at will. You go out there today against Russell Wilson and Marshawn Lynch and whoever the fuck those flappy bastards have at receiver and you SHUT THEM THE FUCK DOWN. I don’t care how you do it. Foul the shit out of them, pay each other for big hits, go after their knees, WHATEVER. Any massive fines and/or multi-game suspensions you get is a small price to pay in order to get me my precious Lombardi Trophy.
Remember, this is exactly why your horse-faced G.M got down on his bony hooves and knees and BEGGED me to join you orange-jerseyed jagweeds last year: so I could rescue you from the pits of Tebow-ville and let you ride my coattails to a Super Bowl title. YOU ARE NOTHING WITHOUT ME. I CARRIED YOU WORTHLESS BUMBLEFUCKS TO A SUPER BOWL. NOW IT’S TIME FOR YOU TO REPAY ME BY PLAYING THE GAME OF YOUR LIVES AND WINNING ME THE CHAMPIONSHIP THAT I DESERVE.
So bring it in here, and join hands. Let’s have a quick cheer, then get out there and WIN. Okay, ready? “Don’t fuck this up for Peyton” on three. One, two three.
“DON’T FUCK THIS UP FOR PEYTON!”
Okay, why the shit was I the only one cheering? Jesus, you guys SUCK.