-The camera pulls back to show a once prosperous and optimistic but now desolate, nearly deserted town.

Two men stand at the entrance to the town’s once busy hotel.  They are the only two people visible, although a disconcerting number of vultures can be seen circling above the town.

I tell you sir, I have never seen the like of it, and I went to Princeton!  Our two best men, gunned down like animals!  And we but days away from those nefarious New Englanders being released from the territorial prison after having completed their sentences for deflating pigskins.  I don’t like our chances at all.  Also Princeton.

That’s some fine exposition there Princeton but, (spits what could be tobacco, could be blood), nobody got gunned down and you know it.  Dez broke his foot off in some john’s ass gettin’ him outta his momma’s house and Romo tripped over one a’ them Daisy Duke shorts we kept findin’ around his locker.

hmm yes, but it sounded better my way.

Oh piss on your way you Ivy-league sonuvabitch!! We’ve got a real problem on our hands here.  Those Patriot pricks’ll get outta prison in two days and they’re gonna be coming here lookin’ for revenge.  All I’ve got to stop ’em are Doopy Pantz over there, (points to Brandon Weeden, who has wandered out into the road and is trying to pet a skunk), and half a defense.  I don’t like our chances with that, especially given your fondness for bubble screens.

With all due respect sir, my bubble screens were very popular at Princeton, where I played football and my father called the plays.  Also we will have the service of the one they call ‘The Kraken’ by that time.  I’m told he got on the 3:10 at Yuma this afternoon and should be here before the Patriots get out.

 Yeah, I’d forgotten about Kraken.  I guess he can probably keep from throwing a woman onto a heap of assault rifles for one week anyway.  That’ll help, no doubt.  But we need something more; we need a real gunslinger to get our offense goi…Hey, what’s that?

(the camera swoops back, away from town and focusing on the back of a lone rider.  The rider approaches the town slowly, as though uncertain of his destination.

I’m not sure sir.  He looks vaguely familiar though, as if he had a mysterious past, or had at one time been relevant to our work.  He’s almost recognizable; I think, oh shit, oh good Christ no it’s…

HI!  I’M MATT CASSELL, GUNSLINGER FOR HIRE!!  I HEARD YOUR TOP GUNSLINGER WENT DOWN AND YOUR SECOND STRINGER APPEARS TO BE MAKING LOVE TO A SKUNK!!!  I’M HERE TO OFFER MY SERVICE TO PROTECT THIS HERE TOWN, AND ALL I ASK IS THAT I GET WHATEVER I WANT FROM YOUR TOWN FOR AS LONG AS I’M HERE.  FAILING THAT I’LL SETTLE FOR THE LEAGUE MINIMUM!!!  I OWE THOSE PATRIOTS FOR STEALING FOUR YEARS OF MY LIFE!!!

Matt Cassell?  The same Matt Cassell who washed out in Minnesota?

YUP!!!!!

The same Matt Cassell who protected Kansas City for one season and pretty much let the savages do whatever the hell they wanted for another three?

YUP!!!!

Christ’s sake boy, why do you keep shouting?  We’re standing three fucking feet in front of you!

I’M NEVER SURE ANYTHING I THROW, INCLUDING MY VOICE, WILL GO BEYOND TWO FEET WITH ANY KIND OF EFFECTIVENESS, SIR, SO I COMPENSATE BY YELLING REALLY LOUDLY!!!!  ALSO YELLING SEEMS TO MATCH THIS PICTURE, WHICH SUGGESTS FAR MORE OPTIMISM THAN IS JUSTIFIED BY MY PRIOR PERFORMANCES!!!!!

Whatever punk.  Hey, aren’t you that same guy that wanted to protect the southlands of California but couldn’t get past those two stumble bums, Palmer and Matt Whathisface?

LEINART SIR!  AND YUP THAT WAS ME!!!

Son, I don’t know who told you that we was so desperate that we’d pay a third rate gunslin…

Mr. Jones, sir?  That striped kitty bit me in my special place and sprayed me in my face and now I’m all stinky and my eyes are burning and it hurts when I try to pee!

(to Cassell)  When can you start?

I’LL BE READY JUST IN TIME TO RUN OFF THOSE PATRIOTS SIR!!!

/fast forward to ten minutes after the Patriots arrive in town

Well, that went better than I expected!

Oh fuck off Princeton.  I’m going over to Dez’s momma’s house.  He won’t be doin’ any kickin’ for at least another two weeks.