On Monday night, all three ownership groups applied to the NFL about relocation to L.A.. What led to the surprising same-day joint, mass application is a cause of much speculation. Just how was that decision reached…

Park Plaza – Chico, CA

Monday, January 4^th, 2016; 10:30 AM

Stan Kroenke: Driver, are you sure this is the place?

Sacramento Independent Taxi Driver: Yes sir – 682 Mangrove Avenue, Chico.

Kroenke: It’s a Supercuts.

Driver: Yes sir. Supercuts. The information I was given was to pick you up at the Southwest arrivals station at Sacramento International and bring you directly here.

Kroenke: It’s a Supercuts. Next door to a Radio Shack.

Driver: Yes sir. They are next to the anchor tenant, Safeway. We’re lucky to have them, what with Vons having closed last year, and the strike having broken the Albertson’s down the road.

Kroenke: Strike?! Thanks Obama. (*chuckles*)

Driver: Anyway, sir, my other instructions are to tell you to go around back and knock on the door. {Gets out driver’s side; goes to trunk.} I’ll leave your suitcase on the curb. Thank you for taking a Sacramento Independent Taxi. (stands by suitcase)

Kroenke: Yeah, pal. That ain’t happening. Thanks to Bowl Cut, I just flew Southwest, and I know he prepaid my ride using sponsor vouchers. Here’s a tip – move to L.A. (*laughs like Monty Burns*)

Driver: (mutters in Serbian; gets into car; drives away)

Kroenke: (looks around; thinks to himself) Typical. I own dozens of malls. He has to hold this “seminar” at a location where I can’t write off the expenses as a business meeting.

Stan Kroenke walks around to the service access door of the Supercuts. Finding the appropriate door, he removes a Wet Wipe from the travel pack in his pocket and wipes a small area above the handle. Satisfied, he bangs on the door.

Kroenke: Hey, Track Suit? Let me in!

[Door flies open]

Kroenke: FOR FUCK’S SAKE?! SPANOS! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU?

Alex Spanos: Gotcha!

Mark Davis: Did he pee? Did he pee?

Alex Spanos: I can’t tell, Mark.

Kroenke: Dean?! Rein in your dad. You see, this is why I don’t want to partner with you in L.A.! I’d be constantly afraid that the corndogs will be replaced with creamed corn.

Alex Spanos: I hire a girl to chew my food!

Kroenke: Also, I can’t believe Davis here is out without his minder.

Davis: I taped her to a chair!

Dean Spanos:  Relax, Stan.

Kroenke: Anyway, what are we doing here? I’ve got literally anything else I’d rather be doing.

Davis: D&D! We’re going to play D&D!

Kroenke: {to Mark Davis} No! {To Dean Spanos} And why the hell are we meeting at a strip-mall that I don’t own? I’ve got Trump 2016 speeches to write.

Dean Spanos:  Don’t get all high & mighty with me, DICK….’s Sporting Goods. I was home visiting relatives in Stockton, so it wasn’t that far. SMF is just an hour away, so it’s not like you had to off-road your way here. We have to meet here because Mark scheduled a haircut, and this is where he comes. Plus, LOOK AT HIM! The haircut makes this place the perfect cover.

Davis: I get ice cream if I sit still!

Kroenke: ??? (blank stare)

Dean Spanos:  (shakes head) There’s a Baskin Robbins next door to the sub place.

Alex Spanos:  Yay! Sammiches!

Dean Spanos:  Later, dad!

Kroenke: But why’d I have to fly Southwest, and take a cab from Sacramento to Chico?

Dean Spanos:  Oh. Because I’m a dick.

Kroenke: Fuck you, then. I’m calling my jet.

Dean Spanos:  Cool with me. Maybe I should be talking to Annie Walmart instead.

Kroenke: LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS! At least I don’t have to bring her with me because I’m just CEO. Speaking of which, it looks like Alex is playing with scissors.

Dean Spanos:  Oh, for Christ’s sake! (slaps them from his dad’s hand) NO SHARPS!

Davis: But I wanna play D&D!

Dean Spanos:  No Mark. I told you we are here to talk about Los Angeles.

Davis: YOU’RE NO FUN! No one wants to play D&D anymore. Ever since Jed got his new playhouse, he doesn’t answer his phone when I call. I haven’t seen him since the game we played last year and he rolled that 17 and killed that berserker.

Kroenke: Berserker?

Dean Spanos:  Harbaugh.

Davis: It took all Jed’s hit points, but now the castle is his. Dean, after ice cream, can we use my tablet to call my dad?

Dean Spanos:  (*sighs*) Sure, Mark. That was the plan.

Kroenke: Dean, seriously, why are you partners with him?

Dean Spanos:  Codicil in the old man’s will. The only way into L.A. was a joint partnership. Seems Al was so intent on going back, he signed letters of intent with almost every city and county before he died. Still, he told USC to “go fuck yourselves, baby”.

Kroenke: How come?

Dean Spanos:  He was still mad at Marcus Allen.

Davis: He asked for a raise!

Dean Spanos:  (shakes head at Mark Davis’ words) Plus, he’d be damned if he was going to play at the Coliseum again and be the second tenant. He’d already done that with the A’s.

Kroenke: (shudders) Ick, baseball.

Dean Spanos: I know, right? Happiest day of my ownership was when the Padres left. The saddest day was every one after, when I didn’t get a new stadium.

Kroenke: You mean your dad’s ownership.

Dean Spanos: Go to hell, Stan.

Alex Spanos:  DEAN! LANGUAGE! (quizzical look around) Sammiches?

Dean Spanos: (sighs) Not now, dad.

Kroenke: I haven’t got time for this. I’m a busy man. Let’s just get to talking and be done with this nonsense.

Dean Spanos: (sighs) Fine. I guess watching your wife run Walmart can be exhausting.

Kroenke: Again, fuck you. I own three other sports teams. You work for your dad.

Dean Spanos: (To Mark Davis) Mark, where’s your “tablet”?

Davis: But I haven’t had my ice cream!

Dean Spanos: I know, Mark. Javier is late today, so your haircut will have to wait. We need to talk to your dad now. Where’s your tablet?

Davis: Under my ginchies! *tee hee*

Disgusted, Dean Spanos walks over to a corner of the storeroom. Under 5 packages of unopened Hanes white briefs sits a used Ouija board, covered in Oakland Raiders and Jack Sparrow stickers.

Kroenke: Umm…

Dean Spanos: Which part? He loves pirates. And he asks for a clean pair every time I want to “speak” with Al. I grab them at the Target across the street. Strange thing is, he just asks for them; he never wears them.

Kroenke: You mean under that cry for help he’s going com-

Dean Spanos: Don’t say it, or you’ll picture it!

Kroenke: FUCK! Too late.

Dean Spanos: Welp. Speaking of evil, let’s talk to the boss.

Dimming the lights and sparking Mark’s “Pan” candles, Dean Spanos and Stan Kroenke put on their Crowley hats and begin the incantation:

“You who lived yesterday, we call you from our mind to yours, Come back from the shadows into the light and show yourself here. Silver and black – we call you BACK!”

A disembodied head appears out of the shadows.

Davis: Daddy!

Alex Spanos:  AHH! A g-g-g-ghost! (hides under towels, behind washing machine)

Dean Spanos: Al. Hear our prayers. Your divine wisdom is needed in this our most desperate hour.

Al Davis’ head: Wake up Carolee, the plane is waiting for us, we have to get to the game.

Dean Spanos: No Al, it’s Dean Spanos. We have summoned you to ask your advice on relocating our franchises to L.A..

Al Davis’ head: What do you mean, “we”? I told you and Mark to move already.

Dean Spanos: I know Al, but now the Rams want to move to L.A. as well. We figured if three of us apply, then at least one will get enough votes.

Al Davis’ head: Christ – the Rams?! What’s that bitch want now?

A second disembodied head appears out of the shadows.

Al Davis’ head: Aww crap…

Georgia Frontiere’s head: WHOO HOO! Who’s single? Mama’s got an itch that needs scratchin’.

Al Davis’ head: Get lost, Georgia. No one invited you!

Georgia Frontiere’s head: Huh. Sounds just like 1979. Anyway, I’m here now, boys. What’s with the sausage fest?

Alex Spanos:  (pokes head out from behind washing machine) Mother?

Georgia Frontiere’s head: Ooh, hello sexy. Let’s you & me have a private meeting. What’s your net worth? (head floats over to washing machine)

Al Davis’ head: Well, that’ll keep her busy for a minute. So, why the Rams?

Dean Spanos: Well, because all three applicants have historic ties to the area, and we all play in garbage stadiums, we thought it might be advantageous for us to make separate, but joint, applications, rather than fight with each other.

Stan Kroenke: It’s like this, Al, we figure-

Al Davis’ head: Who are you? Why should I talk to you? I don’t know where you’re from.

Kroenke: Stan Kroenke. From St. Louis. We’ve actually met before. I bought the Rams after Georgia died. You said my mustache reminded you of Todd Christensen.

Al Davis’ head: Ahh, big Todd. Too bad he’s in Mormon heaven; no parties. Stabler won’t leave me alone. Anyways, they’re never going to let three teams move to L.A.. You just have to force the issue, like I did.

Mark Davis: I wanna live at Disneyland!

Al Davis’ head: (*sigh*) No Mark, you’re going to stay in Palm Springs with mother! The Raiders are going to L.A..

Mark Davis: I never get anything. WHERE’S MY ICE CREAM?! (sits in corner, holds breath)

Kroenke: (ignores Mark Davis) Our strategy was to bombard the NFL with applications to move, and then copy how the NBA uses Seattle to get concessions out of our cities. Whoever didn’t get a good enough deal would then move to L.A..

Al Davis’ head: (to Dean Spanos) Did you use my old favorite: “We came forward with everything we could to make everyone happy especially our fans and see if we can make this an economically viable organization.”

Dean Spanos: Yes, we did. Al, look, the season ended yesterday. We have to strike while the iron is hot, and our attendance has never been lower. The earliest vote is next week.

Al Davis’ head: Fine. Just remember what I said in 1982: “Sure, I expected the Oakland fans to get angry at me. But I don’t remember any of them parading on the Oakland Coliseum, saying ‘Give him what he wants.’ In their mind, it’s their team. In my mind, it’s not.”

Dean Spanos: So you’re saying…

Al Davis’ head: Fuck ‘em.

Stan Kroenke: (smiling) Fuck ‘em!

Dean Spanos: (perplexed) Fuck…them?

Alex Spanos:  DEAN! LANGUAGE! Anyway, come meet your new mom!

Mark Davis: *slumps over, unconscious*