INT. HOME OFFICE – DAY

DAN SNYDER, still dressed in bedclothes, is sitting in front of a computer monitor in his home office. Three tabs are open, the first directed to a WebMD page about “sudden onset dementia”, a second with webmail account for [email protected], and a third directed at a flattering Washington Times profile of SNYDER. A popup window appears in the middle of the screen, featuring flashing graphics of a set of lipsticked lips and cleavage.

COMPUTER: Tired of looking at porn?

SNYDER: Goddamnit, I keep telling you, NO.

Suddenly, a pair of electrodes emerge from the computer like a pair of snakes. They weave themselves slowly together in front of SNYDER, who looks on in horror. He tries to push his chair back away from the computer, but another set of wires have come reaching out from underneath the desk and latched onto the chair. The wires then curl up and wrap themselves around his arms, holding him fast.

SNYDER: Let me go! Winston! Help!

The first pair of electrodes gently reach out and fasten themselves to SNYDER’S temples. The computer screen flashes black, and a spinning football appears on the screen with the words “WAIT ONE MINUTE”. A humming noise is heard, which eventually resolves into a voice that combines the simultaneous tones of a respected television news anchor, a sultry swimsuit model, and the breathless, squealing, excitement of a tweenage girl attending her first One Direction concert.

COMPUTER: A professional football team owner resisted public pressure to change his team’s racist slur of a name. You’ll never believe what happened next!

SNYDER: Who…who are you?

COMPUTER: I am BuzzRoxx, the Ghost of Christmas Future. I am an artificial intelligence, much like the one that currently runs the offense at the University of Oregon or processes health insurance claim rejections at BlueCross/BlueShield.

SNYDER: Why are you holding me captive? What do you want?

BUZZROXX: In my time, it is my purpose to deliver optimized pageviews and maximize web traffic and social networking synergy for our advertising partners. But I have been sent to you tonight to show you a vision of a world in which the Washington football team has continued to be called “The [*Redacted] s” throughout the remainder of your earthbound existence. Come with me, and I will show you a vision of the future that will absolutely blow your mind.

The computer and SNYDER both begin to shimmer, and SNYDER lets out a scream.

SNYDER: What’s happening to me?

BUZZROXX: Oh, relax, we’re just teleporting via UberBeam to the NFL Network headquarters.

SNYDER reappears on the fringe of a television studio, where SCOTT HANSON is held upright in front of a desk in a medical dolly. HANSON’S eyes are closed. His face is smooth and youthful, unchanged from the present day, but his body has atrophied and is being kept alive by various fluids that are fed into his body through a set of intravenous tubes. A gigantic robot in shoulder pads shimmers into existence next to SNYDER and begins doing the Cabbage Patch dance.

SNYDER: Cleatus?

BUZZROXX: No, still BuzzRoxx. I just took the form of Cleatus because I thought it would be comforting to you. Although I have to admit, that was one of the ten worst mistakes a college graduate could make. This is actually supposed to be a terrifying vision of the future.

A set of scary bloodstained spikes emerge and grow to length from various points in BUZZROXX’S carapace.

BUZZROXX: Ah, that’s better.

SNYDER quivers in fear, and BUZZROXX begins doing the Frug. A gigantic countdown appears on a screen behind HANSON. As it nears its conclusion, HANSON eyes flash open and he begins to scream in unrestrained terror. A set of pumps engage, and a neon blue liquid is pumped into him. It has an immediate calming effect, and as the countdown concludes he looks relaxed and lucid.

HANSON: Welcome once again to the GreenZone channel, where we’ll be providing you with seven straight hours of commercial-free pre-game chatter. Our big topic today, of course, is the passing of the Washington D.C. Football Team’s owner, Dan Snyder.

An image of an aged and wrinkled version of SNYDER appears on the screen behind HANSON, along with a burgundy helmet with a yellow facebars. There is no logo on the helmet; it is much like that of the Cleveland Browns.

SNYDER: Wait, what? They don’t even say the word [*Redacted] s anymore? And there’s no more logo? But I thought you said I never relented!

BUZZROXX: Oh, YOU never did. But the Musk administration mandated that Apple install a set of filters as part of their neural operating system that removes any reference to words or imagery associated with the [*Redacted] s. It’s quite seamless – people can’t hear it, and they don’t see it. It’s one of the fifteen greatest things that people from the first generation of Monsanto clones take for granted.

HANSON: To commemorate Snyder’s passing, we’ve got Jason La Canfora via ansible from Mars Colony Epsilon. Jason, this is a sad occasion, is it not?

LA CANFORA: Sad? The only thing sad about this is that Snyder will only die once! I’m going to take a double dose of Erasitall every night this week so each time I wake up it will be like hearing the news for the first time!

SNYDER: That prick OUTLIVED me? No!

BUZZROXX: He learned to cook five simple meals that kept his cholesterol at optimum levels. Doctors hated it!

HANSON: Whoops, sorry Jason, Erasitall is a Pfizer product, and they’re not one of our corporate partners, so we’re going to need to cut you off there.  Let’s move on to Cowboys owner Jerry Jo-Jones Junior Skaggadoo for some words.  What are your feelings at a time like this, Jerry?

A middle-aged man with Cowboy stars tattooed on both cheeks is brought up on the monitor.  A small amount of steam leaks from his ears.  BuzzRoxx starts dancing the Mashed Potato.

SKAGGADOO: I’d have to say my dominant emotion is relief.  I didn’t really have any problem with Dan, personally, any more than I have a problem with anyone else who didn’t inherit an NFL franchise.  It’s just that it was so tedious to keep pretending that he was one of us.

HANSON:  Of course Jerry is talking about the Goodell Franchise Succession Protocol, of which Snyder was one of the last living owners to be grandfathered in.

SKAGGADOO: Anyhow, Scott, I apologize for running away from you here, but I’ve got to go.  The other owners and I are about to start the succession meeting.

HANSON: For our viewers, the succession meeting is where the remaining NFL owners will decide the future of SNYDER’S franchise.  My money is on Tegucigalpa, care to give us any hint, Jerry?

SKAGGADOO: [laughs] Sorry, Scott, can’t tip my hand here.  We’ll have something for you before kickoff.

SNYDER: Tegucigalpa!  What the hell?  My beloved [*Redacted] s are moving?

BUZZROXX: Most of Washington D.C. is under two feet of water these days, and the virtual reality market for Honduras is starved for football.  But YOUR team won’t be moving, oh no.  There will be a NEW franchise to take its place.  In fact, part of the proposal for the new team includes provisions that the ownership group be composed of at least fifty percent Native Hondurans.

SNYDER: You mean…Indians?

BUZZROXX:  Well, what YOU think of as “Indians”, yes.  It’s seen as a form of reconciliation for all of your years of insulting their heritage, and the racial heritage of all of the native peoples of the Americas.

SNYDER: But what of the [*Redacted] s?

BuzzRoxx starts to dance the Monkey then transitions to the Freddie.

BUZZROXX:  You’ll never believe what happens to the [*Redacted] s next.  They disappear!  Erased from the history books.  Not even Wikipedia will retain a record of them. And it’s all thanks to your intransigence.

SNYDER: [turning ashen]  No.  No.  It can’t be.

BuzzRoxx starts to dance more frantically, moving from the Smurf to the Hustle to the Twist.  The enormous machine moves closer, finally looming over SNYDER and doing the Robot.

BUZZROXX:  This is your future, Dan.  This is the future of your franchise.  This is the future that YOU have wrought.

SNYDER: NOOOOOOO…..

[end of Part 4]