Mark Sanchez: Holy smokes, Thomas. We’re in the AFC Title Game! I can’t believe it! Last year, I was just some goofball at USC. This year, I’m taking the field with Peyton Manning for the right to go to the Super Bowl! That’s amazing.
Thomas Jones: Yup.
Sanchez: Oh, man. Peyton Manning. He’s the best in the business.
Sanchez: Not gonna be easy to beat him.
Sanchez: You think Coach Ryan has something big up his sleeve for this one?
Jones: Ain’t you seen Coach? He’s something big up all his sleeves.
Sanchez: Oh man, here he comes.
(door flies open)
Ryan: HOW THE FUCK YOU DOIN’, BOYS?
Sanchez: Good, coach.
Ryan: Oh! Oh! Oh, do I feel good, men! I woke up this morning. I took a MASSIVE shit. Then I showered, shaved, trimmed by balls, and had the best fucking breakfast I’ve had since yesterday! Mrs. Coach Ryan took me to Good Enough To Eat! And we had eggs sunny side up, eggs over easy, eggs over hard, eggs over mayo, eggs Benedict, eggs Florentine, a Western omelet, a Denver omelet, a meat lover’s omelet, sausage links, sausage patties, sausage trapezoids, bacon, scrapple, pancakes, banana pancakes, silver dollar pancakes, Swedish pancakes, apple pancakes, cream cheese stuffed pancakes, biscuits and gravy, biscuits and ham, biscuits and suet, biscuits and strawberry butter, waffles, French toast, French toast sticks, pancake sticks, waffle sticks, danishes, donuts, bagels, bialies, coffee cake, croissants, cinnamon buns, sticky buns, hot cross buns, and a light fruit salad. And for dessert: MY WIFE’S JUICY SNATCH! Oh man, what a great meal! Can’t wait to have it again tomorrow! What did you have for breakfast, Matador? WAYVOSE RANCHAIROS?!
Sanchez: I had cereal, sir.
Ryan: Did you put sausage in it? A RYAN ALWAYS SAUSAGES HIS FROSTED FLAKES!
Sanchez: No, sir.
Ryan: Well, you’re missing out, Matador! Why you eat so light? Is it to impress the ladies? Oh, I bet the gals out there just fall all over themselves to get at your BURREETO DOS MAHNOSE!
Sanchez: Well, I…
Ryan: Oh! Oh! Ol’ Matador here is feeding the ladies some of his CARNAY AHSAHDO! THAT’S GREAT HUSTLE!
(slaps Sanchez on the ass, hard)
Ryan: Now, first order of business: Nicknames! Matador, you knew nickname is El Conquistador! BECAUSE YOU CONQUERED THOSE FEATHERWEIGHT CHARGER ASSHOLES!
Sanchez: Thank you, sir.
Ryan: Jonesy, your new nickname is Tom. And Greene! WHERE THE FUCK IS MY MAN GREENE?!
Shonn Greene: Here, sir.
Ryan: You new nickname is HULKY! EVERYONE SEE HULKY HERE BUST THROUGH THE FUCKING LINE ON THAT 4TH AND 1?!
Ryan: That was A GREAT FUCKING PLAY, HULKY! GREAT FUCKING HUSTLE!
(slaps Greene on the ass, hard)
Ryan: And did you all see our man Revis make that juggling pick? Revis, I bet those weren’t the only balls juggled that day! AM I RIGHT? OH HELL YES I AM! CAN I GET A BALLS?
Ryan: Now, men. MEN. This is it. This is what we talked about all season long. You put in the effort, and now, here you are. There are four teams left standing: The three top seeds, AND THE FUCKING NEW YORK JETS.
Ryan: You aren’t wanted here, men. Make no mistake about that. The league would rather see those glory boys Manning and Favre go at it in the Super Bowl. But you aren’t gonna let that happen, are you?
Ryan: Nobody wants you. Everyone thinks you don’t belong here. They say you got lucky. They say you got handed a playoff spot by the same team you’re playing on Sunday. Hell, our own stadium is named after a fucking Manning’s team. You are the fucking outcasts. The dregs of society. And let me tell you something, men. I WOULDN’T HAVE IT ANY OTHER GODDAMN WAY.
Ryan: I’m gonna tell you a story. When my momma was 15 years old, my Daddy got her pregnant. She was just a girl, still in school. Had no idea what to do. She spent nights in her bed, tossing and turning, agonizing over what to do about this child she didn’t want. Now, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had just said SCREW IT and gone and done what had to be done, if you catch my drift. Those are the choices we make in this life. They can’t be undone. All you can do I hope you did the right thing. But my momma, this poor 15-year-old girl from Oklahoma, decided to have the baby. They took her to the hospital a few months later. And for 36 hours, she writhed in agony as she tried to give birth to her baby. She lost a gallon of blood that night. Her blood pressure plunged down to barely anything. Doctors said she might not make it. But she pushed, and she pushed, and she never gave up. Because she knew. She knew that, by God, she may not have made the right decision, but she wasn’t gonna quit. RYANS DON’T FUCKING QUIT. And so she kept pushing, kept ATTACKING. And soon after, she gave birth to a 40 lb. baby boy. She gave birth to a FUCKING WINNER. And that little 40 lb. baby, that child that, should the coin have flipped the other way, never would have existed… that boy that was an outcast at school… that boy none of the girls wanted to kiss… that boy who always felt like he had to prove something to his Daddy… that boy who was turned away again and again from a head coaching job… that little boy is now one fucking game away from the GODDAMN SUPER BOWL. AND YOU BET SURE AS FUCK THAT I AIN’T DONE PUSHING! ARE YOU?!!!!
Ryan: Now, those Colts there might have some advantages over you. They got the home crowd. They got the glitzy QB. They got the fancy wideouts and their fancy rush ends. But they ain’t seen the things you and I have seen. They haven’t been through the fucking FLAMES AND TWISTED SHRAPNEL like you and I have. They aren’t ready for us. They aren’t ready for fucking WAR. They have no idea just what kind of fucking maniacs they are up against. ARE YOU ALL A BUNCH OF FUCKING MANIACS?!!!
Ryan: ARE YOU FUCKING READY TO KILLLLLLLLLL?!!!!!! ARE YOU READY FOR WAR?!!!!
Everyone: Then tonight, on the eve of battle, WE FEAST! Bring out the training table, men!
Sanchez: Holy shit.
Ryan: In ancient times, the Roman army would gather to feast before they went and kicked the shit out of everything in their path. And tonight, YOU men will do the same. HAVE AT IT! We have steak, chicken, roast beef, pork, ham, lamb, turkey, duck, venison, shark, whale, swordfish, lobster, shrimp, bison, lion, bear, bacon, sausage, bacon sausage, burgers, dogs, chili, wings, beef stew, lamb stew, beef and lamb stew, veal brains, veal liver, veal heart, veal piccatta, pork butt, tenderloin, tacos, taquitos, and more! AND NO BULLSHIT NONMEAT FOODS!
Sanchez: Oh man…
Ryan: And the coup de graw… BRING OUT THE COLT!
Sanchez: Is that a real Colt?
Ryan: Straight from my Daddy’s stable. She’s a good girl. But now, it’s time for her to make the ultimate team sacrifice!
(gets out cleaver, chops horse’s head off)
Sanchez: HOLY CRAP!
Ryan: Any of you men know how to debone a colt?
Ryan: Watch and learn! I can do it in seven seconds!
(bones Colt, hands Sanchez chunk of raw Colt meat)
Ryan: Now eat it.
Sanchez: But I never…
Ryan: EAT IT! DEVOUR IT! CHEW ITS BONES AND BECOME ITS MASTER, CONQUISTADOR!
Sanchez: Oh, okay…
Ryan: He ate it! He ate it! Ol’ Conquistador just had himself some neighgiri sushi! IS HE READY FOR WAR?!
Ryan: ARE YOU READY FOR FUCKING WAR?!
Ryan: NOT YET, YOU AREN’T! BRING OUT THE PUSSY!
Ryan: They didn’t just eat before war. THEY FUCKED LIKE WARRIORS! NOW GO! GO! GET THAT WARPUSSY!
(everyone goes off to have sex, comes back)
Ryan: NOW FUCKING BRING IT IN!
(everyone brings it in)
Ryan: All of you have fresh Colt blood dripping from your mouth. And you all reek of warpussy. I like it. Don’t wash it off. Save it. Leave it there. Take the field on Sunday with the taste of the opponent’s blood fresh in your mouth, and the stench of conquered woman on you. Let those Indianapolis pussies know you will fucking MURDER them as we did poor Daisy today. Let them know you will stop at nothing until you have torn them limb from fucking limb, and left nothing but blood and bones in your wake. It’s not enough to want to beat those fuckers. YOU HAVE TO WANT TO FUCKING EAT THEM. CONSUME THEM ENTIRELY. WIPE THEM OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH. All that will be left of them will be what’s in YOUR SHIT. Do you understand that?
Ryan: IS IT TIME TO FEAST?!!!!!!
Ryan: We’re gonna fucking WIN! And then we’re go to Medieval Times! FUCKING KILL ON THREE! ONE TWO THREE…
Ryan: Oof, that was good. Now it’s time for lunch! Blood sausage, HOLD THE SAUSAGE!
Sanchez: I need a breath mint.