INT. DIVE BAR, DECEMBER 1971 – NIGHT

A crowd of middle-aged men sit on stools in front of a long mahogany bar.  A bartender stands placidly, occasionally moving to refill an empty mug from a series of taps featuring familiar American macrobrews.  Behind the bar, a single television broadcasts Monday Night Football, which has just arrived at halftime.

BARFLY 1: Goddamn, lookit the size of that kid!

BARFLY 2: Looks like he ate one of t’other kids!

BARFLY 3: Well that ain’t fair at all, him competin’ with all those young ‘uns!

BARFLY 1: Hey, wait a minute.  Ain’t that your boy, Walter?

A heavyset man looks up from his beer.

WALTER REID: Oh, sugar.  Sugar, sugar, sugar…

— [CUT TO] —

INT. VEHICLE INTERIOR – NIGHT

WALTER REID is behind the wheel of a large Buick.  His face is filled with panic as he scans the storefronts he passes.

WALTER: Gotta get him a present.  A good present can fix all this.

The car pulls up in front of a butcher shop, which is dark and shuttered.

WALTER: Aw, fudge, they’re closed.  But what in tarnation is gonna be open at this hour?

He resumes driving, and then suddenly the brakes screech as the car comes to an abrupt stop.

— [CUT TO] —

INT. CREEPY CURIO STORE – NIGHT

WALTER: I need a present for my son.

SHOPKEEPER: I can assist you with that.  Perhaps this will please the young man.

WALTER: An empty bottle?

SHOPKEEPER: It’s a condiment bottle.  I’ll fill it with barbecue sauce for you.

WALTER: That’s perfect!

SHOPKEEPER: Regardless of what it holds, this bottle will bring great fortune to he who bears it.  But beware, for it carries a terrible curse.

WALTER: [takes the bottle and regards it reluctantly] Oh, that’s bad.

SHOPKEEPER: But it comes with a free steak!

WALTER: That’s good!

SHOPKEEPER: The steak is also cursed…

WALTER: That’s bad.

SHOPKEEPER: …in that it will give you heart disease.

WALTER: [shrugs]

SHOPKEEPER: But you get your choice of a baked potato, french fries, or potato salad!

WALTER: That’s good!  Wait…how much for all three?

— [CUT TO] —

EXT. CREEPY CURIO STOREFRONT – NIGHT

WALTER REID hurriedly slides into the driver’s seat, putting the bottle and a takeaway container on the passenger seat.  The curio shop owner pokes his head out the door as WALTER REID closes the car door. 

SHOPKEEPER: Wait!  Don’t you want to know what the curse is? [trailing off to self as WALTER REID drives away]…I mean it’s really quite straightforward and easy enough to avoid…

— [CUT TO] —

INT. REID HOUSEHOLD – NIGHT

WALTER REID stands in front of his son ANDY, who is seated dejectedly on the sofa. WALTER REID holds the package from the curio store behind his back.

WALTER: Sorry I wasn’t there for your big night, boy.  But I bought you a present.

WALTER hands ANDY the package.  The boy unwraps it and regards the antique bottle, which is now full of barbecue sauce.

WALTER: It’s a lucky bottle!  It’ll bring you good luck.

YOUNG ANDY: [turns the bottle over skeptically] Oh, that’s hogwash!

WALTER: No, it’s true!  Every light I hit on the way home was green!

YOUNG ANDY: Well…can I try it out?

WALTER: Sure!  [takes a coin from his pocket]  Call it – heads or tails?

YOUNG ANDY: [looks up at his father] Oh.  I meant on some ribs.

—

INT. TEXANS FACILITY, JANUARY 2016 – DAY

A pair of NFL owners are engaged in an argument.

BOB MCNAIR: YOU GODDAMNED SONOFABITCH YOU LIED TO ME.

JIM IRSAY: Man, I didn’t lie to you for shit.

BOB MCNAIR: WE GOT BEAT THIRTY TO NOTHING!  You said all I had to do was sent him ribs at halftime and the Chiefs would fall to pieces.  I sent him those halftime ribs – twelve damned slabs.  He ate ’em all!  Every last bit.  AND THEY DIDN’T DO SHIT!

JIM IRSAY: Worked just fine for me in 2014.  You must have screwed it up somehow.

BOB MCNAIR: Maybe it was the caterer I used? That’ll teach me to use a place that gives convicts a second chance…

JIM IRSAY: Wait, wait, wait.  You mean Stockyard Barbecue?

BOB MCNAIR: How did you…

JIM IRSAY: I wrote a letter of recommendation for an old buddy of mine.  But yeah, that’s where you screwed up.  Stockyard does ’em wet – you gotta send him DRY ribs, you dummy!

BOB MCNAIR: But…why?

JIM IRSAY: Beats me!  But I guarantee you that old Bill will get it right next week, and you’ll see.  Just you wait.

—

INT. ARROWHEAD STADIUM, PATRIOTS LOCKER ROOM, JANUARY 2019 – DAY

TOM BRADY sits on a bench in front of his locker, fiddling around with a roll of athletic tape.  

— [DOOR FLIES OPEN] —

PATRICK MAHOMES: What’s up, Tommy B!

TOM BRADY: Oh, hey there, Pat.  What are you doing here?

PATRICK MAHOMES: I just wanted to make sure I said hi before the game starts – I won’t see you pregame cause I’m doing this thing with the Make-A-Wish foundation.  And I wanted to say thanks for those steaks you sent over.  Get this – Brittany tried to get me to throw them in the trash!  Said they were probably laced with poison or some shit.

TOM BRADY: Ha ha ha ha ha!  Poison?  Man, I haven’t poisoned anybody in years.

The two of them share a hearty laugh.

TOM BRADY: Well anyhow, good luck today.

PATRICK MAHOMES: Oh, I don’t need luck…[flexes his right bicep]…ha ha ha.

TOM BRADY: Come on, everybody needs a bit of luck sometimes.  You’re gonna tell me that you haven’t gotten lucky a few times this season?  Like on some of those no-look throws everybody’s talking about?

PATRICK MAHOMES: Well…I don’t think it’s luck.  But Coach Reid sure does.  He says if he hadn’t given me his lucky condiment bottle I’d have thrown thirty picks this year.

TOM BRADY: Lucky condiment bottle?

PATRICK MAHOMES: Yeah, he gave it to me at the beginning of the season.  Said it always brought him good luck, but the luck eventually turned bad on him.  Thought maybe it would serve me better.  So I filled it up with ketchup, and here I am!

TOM BRADY: But what makes you think your luck won’t turn bad like his did?

PATRICK MAHOMES: Cause I figured out the secret, man.  You can’t let what’s in the bottle run out.  Or else your luck runs out, too.

TOM BRADY: Huh.  Interesting.  But if that’s the case, why would you use any of it at all?  Why not just keep it full all the time?

PATRICK MAHOMES: Cause I like ketchup, man!

TOM BRADY: That’s right, I heard that about you.  You use some on those steaks?

PATRICK MAHOMES: Sure did!  But there’s plenty left in there – it’s about three-quarters full.  And besides, all that’s just a bunch of superstitious nonsense.  You don’t believe any of that crap, do you?

TOM BRADY: Eh, I don’t know.  You might find this hard to believe but Bill does, and it’s always seemed to work out for him.

PATRICK MAHOMES: [pats BRADY on the shoulder] Well, all the TV guys are saying this game is too close to call.

TOM BRADY: That’s what they’re saying, are they?

PATRICK MAHOMES: Complete toss up, they say.  So if it really does come down to a coin toss, though, I guess we’ll find out which one of us has got more luck in the tank. Am I right?

TOM BRADY: [laughs] Ha ha, yeah.  I guess so.

PATRICK MAHOMES: Anyhow, I gotta go get dressed.  I’ll see you on the field, buddy.

MAHOMES takes a step backwards and begins moving towards the exit.

TOM BRADY: Sure thing.  And Patrick?

MAHOMES turns back.

TOM BRADY: Good luck!

MAHOMES laughs as he exits the locker room, and BRADY turns back towards his locker.  He reaches towards the top shelf, where a red cap with a white “USA” logo is sitting.  He moves the cap to the side, revealing a small object.  MAHOMES’ voice comes back in the form of a flashback voiceover.

[VOICEOVER]: …if it really does come down to a coin toss, though…I guess we’ll find out.

BRADY takes the object and turns it over in his hand. 

TOM BRADY: Yes, Patrick.  In the end, if it indeed does come down to a coin toss…I guess we really will find out.

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[scroll down to reveal…IF YOU DARE!]

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[cover art by Sheri Oneal]