Ext. The Seahawks “war room” in Renton, WA.
It is draft night, April 27, 2017. Pete Carroll stands over a table full of papers, while John Schneider frantically tries to work a TV remote.
John Schneider: Pete, the channel seems to be stuck on ESPN.
Pete Carroll: Yup. I took the batteries out of the remote.
JS: Why for?
PC: I just spent three weeks on the road with you. You have the attention span of a ferret.
JS: Still better than Sanchez. But why aren’t we watching NFL Network?
PC: Because NFL Network uses Steve Mariucci. You ever heard him analyze football? He makes Cable sound like Vince Lombardi.
JS: **snorts**
Tom Cable: (from a stool in the corner) Geez. I’m right here, Pete.
PC: AND YOU STAY RIGHT THERE, TOM! I still can’t believe you called that kid from Orlando a “butched-up Disney fairy”.
TC: (soft voice) He called the crescent rolls “croissants”. Croissants!
JS: That’s what they are, Tom.
TC: Not in Trump’s America! And not in my America!
PC: Tom…
TC: (raises voice) Fucking European Libtards are trying to wreck breakfast, like they ruined going to McDonald’s! (pounds table) If I wanted to know the calorie count I wouldn’t fucking eat there! (knocks over paper cup)
PC: TOM! That’s gonna be two dollars, and…oh look, you’ve made poor Chad wet himself.
Chad: Sorry Mr. Carroll.
PC: It’s not your fault, Chad.
TC: BE A FUCKING MAN, CHAD!
PC: Now, that’s three dollars, Tom.
JS: …and, to avoid another fucking meeting with HR, I want an apology as well.
TC: I’m sorry, Mr. Schneider.
JS: NOT TO ME, YOU IDIOT! To young Chad there.
TC: (looks disgustedly at Chad) Chad…I’m sorry… you’re not more of a man.
PC: TOM!
JS: I swear to fucking God, Cable. I know you think he’s a pussy. Hell – I think he’s a pussy. But you can’t say it out loud. Chad’s a valuable member of the…(angrily snaps fingers)…Chad, what the fuck do you do?
Chad: IT team, sir
JS: (at Tom Cable) IT team! If we win another Super Bowl before the Browns even sniff the playoffs again, I’mma want to point at guys like Chad and make sure all of Ohio knows the Flying J can’t beat the General Lee.
TC: (staring at floor) Yes sir.
PC: You’re up to a Lincoln now, Tom. Care to go for the full Hamilton?
TC: No, Pete.
JS: So before HR gets all up my ass, tell Chad here you’re sorry.
TC: (in soft voice) Sorry, Chad.
Chad: It’s okay, sir. It’s a stressful time for all of us. That’s why I keep extra pants in my locker.
JS: EXCELLENT! Now, you two boys head down to the commissary & have a Coke, and hash out your differences. Tell the girls it’s on me. BUT NO PIZZA! You have to earn that. Now, Pete & I have work to do. Tom, we’ll call you if we need you. Chad? Maybe go change those pants.
TC & Chad: (in unison) Yes sir.
Both men walk towards the door. As they get to it, Tom Cable opens it & says “after you”. When Chad starts through, Cable bounces his head off the frame. As their voices disappear down the hall, some whimpering is heard followed by what sounded like, “Listen you little turd,…”
PC: John? You know he’s going to kill him, right?
JS: (dismissively) Who cares. Didn’t UW just graduate a class of fresh meat? Send their IT department some “intern forms” and we can have this fixed by the morning, without getting HR involved.
PC: John, how come you’ve got a bug in your teeth about HR? You’re always making sure we don’t cross them.
JS: Lemme tell you Pete. Cameras are everywhere – kiss one university intern and BOOM!
it’s your name on TV and all over the gossip pages.
PC: …
JS: Those damned seminars I had to attend were brutal, not least because they were full of hot chicks. Anyway, back to the subject at hand – WHERE THE HELL’S MY “JEOPARDY”?
PC: I think Chad got someone to tape it for you. Anyway, we’re due to pick in about an hour, after the Browns pick their next future quarterback of the future. (both men laugh) Once that happens, we’ll see who’s left from our list and call that in to Philly.
As the clock hits 8:00, Cleveland is on the clock. John Schneider sits fidgeting in a chair. Tom Cable & Chad are sitting in their respective corners. Pete Carroll is anxiously watching the TV to see whom Cleveland has picked, because he is on the phone with the Seahawks’ potential choice.
PC: …that’s right, son. The Seahawks look forward to making you our first pick…
JS: Pete?
PC: (ignoring Schneider) … and we’re hoping to get you out to Seattle…
JS: Pete!
PC: (jaw clenching) … to meet the local press & get some photos…
JS: PETE!
PC: … it’ll be great. See you soon. (hangs up phone) CHRIST JOHN, WHAT?!
JS: Why can’t I watch “Big Bang Theory”? (shakes remote)
PC: Because I took the batteries out of the remote, remember? Look John, I’m sorry we’re picking so late you’ll miss your program. It’s the one night I kinda need you to focus.
JS: That’s why I made the list, so we could phone it in when our time came.
PC: (picks up sheet) John, this is just my list with guys numbered and your…’selections’ written in. (looks at list) A couple of these guys will be gone by the time it’s our turn, and some of these guys don’t even play football –
JS: (grabs sheet) YET!
PC: (sighs) Yes John. And I’m pretty certain these Defenders you’ve identified are your last Netflix binge.
JS: Are you sure? How can you tell?
PC: I’m pretty certain Matt Murdock here can’t play football; besides, he’s blind. You’re spot-on about Danny Rand, though. Anyway, we need to keep watching (sighs) NFL Network so we know who’s been already selected.
JS: Listen to me dammit. I gave up “Jeopardy” because you said we’d be picking between 7:30 & 8:00. Well, it’s 8:02, and I’m not missing those kids & their wacky adventures. I’ve already missed the Bare Naked Ladies theme.
By the way, why’d we switch over to Eisen & Company – I thought you said you hated this network?
PC: I do, but after the layoffs, I don’t need to watch a bunch of talking heads yammer about nothing because all the scriptwriters got laid off. Can you imagine Jon Gruden without focus?! Plus, as long as no one mentions Brett Favre, Mooch doesn’t appear on the screen.
JS: …
PC: It’s like saying “Beetlejuice” three times, only it’s the Dongslinger who appears, not Batman.
John, look. Cleveland’s about to make their choice. All we have to do is watch them finally make a bad move & then we can take one of the linemen we’ve talked about.
JS: Dammit Pete. If I miss Kaley Cuoco I’m going to be pissed.
Gotta refill that spank bank after being on the road with you for three weeks. (Gets up to change channel)
PC: (blocks path to TV) C’mon John, just another 5 minutes. I’m sure Chad set it to tape, didn’t you Chad?
Chad: (stammering) Well, Mr. Carroll, I, umm…
PC: (to himself) Oh sweet Jesus…
JS: MOTHERFUCKER!
Tom Cable: That’s a dollar, boss.
PC: (hushed whisper) Not a great time to make a point, Tom
JS: Someone give me a goddamned phone! I’m solving this problem right fucking now.
To be continued…
In my sleep deprived mind I foresee a General Lee race off like those lads on the Hawks did a couple years back.
I’m imagining a converted General Lee racecar bed as Schneider’s desk.
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BAZINGA! : A Very Special Seahawks Draft Day Episode
I did NOT know Kaley had an ass to complement those boobs. Good to know…
I don’t just teach, I educate.
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She bought the boobs. She worked for the ass.
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She or her mom picked a pretty good surgeon tho.
Jailbait or just turned 18 version from 8 Simple Rules.
HOLY SHIT I MISS THE THONG OVER JEANS LOOK!!!
WEDGIE OPPORTUNITY!!
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The pushed up and around version.
Balls distracted me.
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