Adventures With Shockey: Just when things were looking better...

[Somewhere at the Giants practice facility]


Tom Coughlin: Well men, that was a hell of a practice. As I promised last year, I’m trying to be more relatable now, so I want you all to do whatever you do to relax.


Mario Manningham: (/reads Highlights magazine, fails to spot all the “wrong” things on back cover)


Osi Umenyiora: (/defecates, attempts to hide arousal)


Amani Toomer: (/listens to old musical recordings via phonograph while making himself a refreshing soda water beverage by mixing seltzer and flavored phosphates he obtained from his local apothecary)

Coughlin: Yep, things couldn’t be more relaxing.

[Faint hyper American rock music is heard, building volume and coming nearer]

Coughlin: Dammit…why do I always jinx it…


Jeremy Shockey: (/kicks in the door, holding a drink in each hand, visibly drunk) WHO’S BEEN DRINKING AND SHOOTING PRECIOUS ARABIC ART ALL MORNING AND BWLLAARRRGHH...(/doubles over and vomits up nothing but liquid)

Coughlin: Let me go ahead and stop you right there. Blah blah blah, something homophobic toward one of your more sensitive teammates, point your thumbs at yourself, “this guy,” followed by an air guitar performance. Close enough?

Shockey: (/continues vomiting, but holds up middle finger to Coughlin)

Coughlin: Charming, but I’m afraid that nobody here is going to be putting up with your antics today or any other day.

Umenyiora: Yeah man, why you always gotta ruin our calm around here?

Shockey: (/wipes vomit away from mouth) Oh yeah, like you dickbags are doing anything important. First off, Fuckwad McMichigan over there…

Coughlin: His name is Mario.

Shockey: And my name is DOESN’T GIVE A FUUUUUUUUUCK. Anyway, he got about a 0.4 on the Wonderlic, which I think qualifies this for the same government subsidies that Goodwill gets for hiring those retard minded droolers and burn victims that look, well, kind of like a younger Tom Coughlin. I guess the NFL doesn’t have a rule for how far removed someone needs to be from special ed to play, huh?

Manningham: HEY!

Shockey: (/turns to Manningham, annunciates all his words very loudly while gesturing in the air in a primitive sort of sign language) ME JEREMY, YOU DUMB DUMB, YOU LIKE SHINY SHINY, NO? (/turns back to locker room) Somebody get me a ball of yarn for dumbshit to play with or something.

Umenyiora: Dude, not cool.

Shockey: As for this asshole (/points at Umenyiora), he’s just mad because he knows he can’t shit until he finds someone to pay to let him do it on them.

Umenyiora: That is a wildly unfounded speculation!

Shockey: Show us the toilet bowl then.

Umenyiora: (/shifts uncomfortably) That is neither here nor there.

Coughlin: In any event, my point is that you’re not welcome here anymore. You’ve been traded to the Saints.

Shockey: (/spits up hurricane he’s drinking) WHATTHEFUCK?!?

Coughlin: That’s right. You’ve become too much of a problem for us. Get the hell out of here.

Shockey: But…but...(/starts to tear up) don’t you guys LOVE me?!?

Entire locker room: (/remains silent)

Shockey: Don’t they already have a tight end who went to one of those fucking gay ass Ivy League schools?

Coughlin: Eric Johnson went to Yale, so yes, THE gay ass Ivy League school, actually.

Shockey: But…but…(/chokes up) Who’s got two thumbs (/sniffles) and is the (/sniffles) saddest football player in the whole world. (/slowly points thumbs at self) This guy. (/half-heartedly does lame air guitar riff)


Eli Manning: (/strides into locker room) Jeremy, I’ll miss you!

Shockey: Eli? Really?

Manning: Sure. After all, without you here to take so much criticism, who knows how I would have turned out. I always appreciated having you around to help me both with on and off field issues. Hell, if anything, you toughened me up. (/extends hi-five) And for that, I’m grateful.

Shockey: (/smiles) You’re a good guy, Eli…(/goes to give hi-five)

Manning: (/punches Shockey in the dick) MEAT CHECK! Seriously, fuck you, you enormous douchebag. Go bug the shit out of the Saints.

Shockey: (/vomits uncontrollably, still nothing but liquid that smells like booze)

[Meanwhile, in New Orleans…]

Reggie Bush: (/shivers uncontrollably) I feel, cold, for some reason…something is coming…