….Buddy Nix dialing Ralph Wilson…
RW: This Kraft again? Listen here you sonofabitch, I was still alive the last 5 times you called and will be for at least the next 5….
BN: Whoa, whoa, Ralphie, it’s Buddy. Just calling for the weekly gum flappin’ session. Thought you’d like to know who we picked up in the draft.
RW: Ah, yes, of course, the draft. Go ahead Bobby.
BN: Buddy. Anyhoo, with the first pick we got ourselves a big ol’ bastard outta ‘Bammer, Marcel Dareus. He gonna be plugging holes on that line like Marshawn done did on Chippewa St.
RW: Oh lord, Marshawn isn’t still with the squad, is he? Frightening young man.
BN: No Sir. Once I found out he was from California, and that whole ‘Beast Mode’ nonsense was nothing but ole fashioned retard strength, we shipped him right out. Had me fooled for a while though, coulda sworn he was a southern boy.
RW: So, I take it our philosophy is to collect, rather, “draft” southern men?
BN: Goddang right! You see # 58 holding down the end of the bench every Sunday? I got more sacks than him, and it’s sitting in these here drawers.
RW: I assume you’re referring to Aaron Maybin?
BN: You got it Ralphie. ‘Cept, we call him “Aaron Maybin-a-football-player-in-grade school-but-he-sure-as-shit-ain’t-now”. That’s what you end up with when you draft north of the mason Dixon line. Our new motto is if they ain’t played in the SEC or ACC they can go back to suckin’ DIK!
RW: Well Bobby, I’m not sure we should be so hasty as to judge an entire region of the country when it comes to future drafts. In fact, there’s some fine collegiate football being played here in the midwest.
BN: I always forget you’re up there in Michigan. I’ll give you Ohio State producing some players, I like the cut of that Tressel’s jib. Seems like a good dude, not much of a dresser though. But Michigan ain’t done nothin’ since Belichick got ahold of that gal playin quarterback for em and turned her into something. And those soft as baby shit bible thumpers out in Indiana? They’re good for a tight end about every five years, other than that, they’re still hanging their hat on a goddang PREGAME SPEECH! Gipper, my ass.
RW: Point taken. I suppose the balance of power has shifted over the years. Moving on, and most importantly, do we think any of our draftees will be making significant contributions this year?
BN: Welp Ralphie, we got run thru and scored on more than those lasses at a Saturday evening mixer at the old folks home when a certain Ralph Wilson Jr. walks thru the door.
RW: Bobby, let’s not be crass.
BN: You know what I’m sayin’. We were the laughingstock of the league, worthless as tits on a bull. And if these boys can’t step in and help us right away, then I guess I’d be those tits on that bull.
RW: Yes, I suppose you would. Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
BN: No Sir! Tell you what tho, we’re gonna have some Bills with tits if we can’t end this lockout and get these boys back in the weight room.
RW: Message received. Rest assured I’m doing everything in my power to ensure we reach an agreement as soon as possible. Although, I do get the distinct impression that the other owners aren’t taking my input seriously. Jerry Jones refers to me as a “hoser”, finishes every sentence with “eh?”, then starts laughing maniacally.
BN: He’s just got his skin pulled too tight. Next time, ask him why his son looks so much like Barry Switzer.
RW: Hmm, that would explain that hire. Let’s wrap this up shall we, a new episode of JAG starts in 15 minutes. I’ll expect to be briefed on a regular basis throughout the season.
BN: You got it Boss. Lookin’ forward to it.