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We're required to remind you that these strong takes are SATIRE. Sorry, not sorry. All spelling errors are intentional, we think. -Ed.
STOP. Read part one here before you go any farther or else your not going to understand the intricate plot points within. This story is basically The Wire for people who stopped watching on day one because we knew better then to feel any symptahy for ANY characters who CHOSE to sell drugs.
When we last left JJ Watt and Robber Griffin, the two had just absconded from North Korea with a flash drive of Roger Goodell and Peter Kings nudes. There Mission was accomplished and the NFL was momentarily saved from being exploited and undermined as the best sports league in America... until SS Watt was revealed to be a Germen spy.
JJ hops in the cab from the New York League office
Watt: Back to Houston please
Cab: Well actualy, its pronounced HOW-ston.
Watt: Vhatever its called get me zhere pronto. Im not going to find a sack in a cab, not going to get a MVP award in a taxi, ya?
Watt pull's out a cell phone and dials into Angela Merkels office
Watt: I have recovers ze USB drive. I repeat. It is in play.
Merkel: Sank you JJ, or shoud I say... SS Watt?
They do a evil laugh for way to long. Angela is done laughing after like 3 second's but JJ just puts in so much effort it makes her work harder to just because he sets such a great example. JJ holds his USB drive up in the sunlight and admires his handiwork for just a second. He doesnt need to do a big celbration or anything, just wants to calmly hand it over to a German official like hes been there before.
Watt: Vhere should ve meet? You knows theres game this weekend against ze Jagvars. Please to give ze flash drive to mine Fuhrer before zat.
Merkel: Very well. I vill arrange a drop off with one of my most trusted agents. I am texting you ze address now.
Watt: (to the cab driver) Change of ze plans ya? Please take me to ze Starbuck in- how you say- ze Mid-town?
Cab driver: Were here.
Watt: Do you take credit?
Cab driver: VISA credit cards led internatonal transactons with a total value of over $4 billion dolalrs processed in 2014 alone.
Watt: Why take credit when you can give it to your teammate's FYI.
Watt does a spin move out of the cab after being doubleteamed by the seatbelt and the cardoor and walks towards the Starbucks.The cabdriver pulls his misson impossible style mask off and you guessed it- its Darren Rovell- the prime minister of North Korea. He snitched on JJ by placing a tiny GPS on JJ's credit card so that the League Office can track him wherever he goes. Darrens got all sorts of equipment because evertime he watches Homeland he goes online and buys that exact same gear to track his wife from cheating on him and ruining his marriage's brand.
Rovell: (to himself) I have forwarded these coordinates to Roger Goodell at the league office.
JJ looks around midtown to be sure hes not being followed, hes got such incredible situatonal awareness. Just to make sure he dosent look suspicous he goes up to literally everyone he sees and signs autographs for Japanese tourists and police officers and stuff. He walks into the Starbucks excepting to meet his usual contact- Peter King, but instead theres a much skinnier person sitting there. He LOOKS like Peter King, just,,, much skinnier.
Watt: (whispering to skinny Pete) Where ze fuck is Peter.
King: (checks heart monitor) Its me JJ, Ive lossed alot of weight would you like to know how fast I can run now? (checks heart monitor)
Watt: Im only vorried about doing my job the best I can. I let other people worry about that stuff.
King: (checks heart monitor) Would you like to know why I wont vote you for league MVP?
Watt: Im only vorried about doing my job the best I can. I let other people worry about that stuff.
Peter dosent have any of his trademark 6 lattes around him. Hes got like a granola bar and a egg white and ground turkey quiche- provided by Jenny-O and served by Damien Woody- a great product to kickstart youre metabolism and provide muchneeded energy and protein for your workout
Watt: I have retreeved ze data from North Korea.
JJ slides the USB across the table
King: Does it have Goodells nudes on it?
Watt: Ya.
King: Does it have my nudes?
Watt: Nervously shifts in chair. Ya vol. Vhy does Chancellor Merkel vant your nudes? Vhat is her- how you say- end game?
King: You fool! I dont work for the Germens anymore. Even though they have many good ideas they just get carried away sometimes. This flash drive is the most importent piece of blackmail in the world. Whosever controls Peter King and Roger Goodell controls the media, and I cant have that! He who controls the nudes wears the crown. You can get whatever you want- preferental coverage from ME, which leads to bigger contracts, heck you can even get leniency on the NFLs notoriously strict and consistent domestic violents policies! Now that weve got the drive again, I can blackmail (no offense) Goodell into giving the MMQB all the access!!!
Just then a loud cashing sound and popping. They look over and its Roger Goodell and his hired mercenary Mike Perera firing AR-15s through the Starbucks. Someone had tipped them off to JJ's location.
Meanwhile Mike Caray is blasting the Starbucks across the street because he didnt intrepret his instructions correctly. Everyones ducking for cover as Perera and Goodell are standing back-to-back and Perera even manages to order a Vodkacinno while hes reloadng. Meanwile Watt grabs King by his hand (JJ Watt has big hands its why hes able to bat down so many passes- alot of people forget that) and they run out the door, ducking just below the bullets whizzing over head. JJ just cant help it and he sticks those big paws up in the air and deflects a bunch of bullets sailing above them and they go directly into Mike Perera who bleeds everywhere. JJ grabs a cigarette from a passer by and throws it at Mikes blood, creating a really cool explosion.
King: Wow what a motor, but I still think its a quaterback driven league. Sorry JJ I cant vote for you for league MVP.
They run outside and around the corner, JJs chasing King to try to get the nudes back but King is just too quick hes lost a remarkable amount of weight.
Watt: (Breathing heavy) I gotta say Mr. King, your in great shape now.
Kings sweating profusley though and Watt can tell theres something diffrent about his face. Watt kicks his motor up a notch as hes chasing down King until he finaly grabs him and notices there are strange streaks appearing on his face from all the sweat- wait a second- Peter is actualy the MMQB's Robert Klemko! Thats why Peter Looks like hes in better shape! Klemko was wearing whiteface.
Klemko: No offense JJ.
Watt: None taken- your one of ze best young NFL writers-vhy are you dressed as Peter King- a man vith no soul?
Klemko: You ask to many questions.
Klemko pulls a gun on JJ. He cant have any one knowing his secret. He needs a getway car and just then recognizes Darren Rovell pulling up in his taxi cab. Klemko punches him in the face and throw's him out of the cab and forces Watt in there with him.
Klemko: Get in! I'll explane on the way.
JJ hops in the cab as they start driving away.
Klemko: Some very bad people kidnapped your well intentoned but comedically misguided partner Robert Griffin after you left the league office in a attempt to recover the jump drive.They thought he had stolen it just like hes cheated his way through the NFL. No one would of ever expected that you stole it except for me.You know my secret and I know yours so we can work together.
Watt: Who would of kidnapped him?
Klemko: Someone who wanted that drive,, someone who is in desprate need of a boost from the media.
Klemko gets somewere in New Jersey next to a bridge and pulls over. It looks like a place theres mafia because mafia does things under bridges.
Watt: I should of known your vorking with ze Italians. Who is it? Florio? Paolantonio?
Klemko: No. Higher up then that JJ. As one of todays best young NFL writers Ive still got along way to go to reach the the top. Im only doing this to advance my career you see. I need these sources.
Watt: Im only vorried about doing my job ze best I can. I let other people vorry about that stuff.
They step under the bridge and a towncar pull's up and a tall man walks out confidantly wearing sunglasses and a shiny silver suit. The man walks to the back and pops the trunk, the rear license plate says "ELITE". The man takes of his sunglasses.
Joe Flacco: Hey yous. I got your guy right here Klemko. (grabs his nuts and motions to RG3 tied up in the trunk) Safe and sound like I promissed. (motions to JJ Watt) Hey who's fucken Brock Losener over here?
Klemko: Thats JJ Watt. Hes with me. Hes cool.
Flacco: You got that thing I wanted?
Klemko: (nods and hands him the flash drive)
Flacco: (plugs it into his computer) Oh! Pizan! All these nudes! Your making my eyes all facacta over here! Oh!
Klemko: Ok Flacco. I did my part,, youve got the nudes. Now let RG3 go.
Flacco looks at Griffin
Flacco: Hey RG-Me! Shows over buddy you can go home. I said get the fuck outta heah!
Griffin gets out of the trunk and steals the flash drive out of Flaccos computer, he tries to sprint away but he forgets hes tied up and trips over his own feet. Hes still very much a runfirst QB and has alot of learning to do if he ever wants to truly be a top passer.
Flacco: This guy with the gimmicks over here! Oh!
Flacco takes out his weapon- hes got a absolute cannon but since its not the month of January yet hes still extremeley innaccurate. All of his shots at Robert hit the ground as Griffin is literaly doing the stinky leg dancing away from the bullets. It looks for a second like Griffins going to get away with it.
Watt gets his instinct's kicked in. A elite defensive linemen like Watt is like a Germen Shepherd dog. He'll only pin his ears back and chase you down if you try to run away, but if your a pocket passer whose confident and stands tall it doesnt even trigger his pass rushing instincts- theyll just kindve wrestle around with a Offensive Tackle instead. Thats why pocket passers are literaly better then dual-threat QBs- its genetics and if you believe in evolution then you cant disagree with this. RG3 pulls his arm back and trys to throw the drive to Klemko but JJ bats it to himself and catches it as he sacks Griffin- killing him instantly.
Watt: (Turns to Flacco and Klemko. Hes got tears in his eyes from all of the passion) Ze nudes are destroying our league!!! Zey have too much power!!!
Klemko points his gun at JJ, who is holding the jump drive over the New Jersey swamp like hes going to drop them.
Klemko: Dont do it JJ! I need those for the MMQB!
Watt: Your one of ze best young NFL wrtiers out zhere. You can do it without ze pictures.
JJ casts the USB drive out into the sulferic New Jersey water where it bubbles and sinks to the poisonous depths of the chemical toilet that is the Jersey shore to be buried there forever next to Bruce Springsteen concept albums and Bon Jovi fans. Klemko drops to his knees weeping, but at the same time he feels a sense of freedom like never before. The NFL is truly once again a meritocracy. As one of the best young NFL writers he will be just fine and Underrated coaches like Jim Haslet and Jack Del Rio will finally be able to find good jobs.
Watt: You dont need zem Robert. Neither do you Joe. (pauses) neither do I. All we should do is just perform are own jobs to ze best of our abilties ya?
Flacco: This fucken guy.
Flacco discretely furrows his eyebrow,, its a evolutonary adaptation that makes it so that he can literally hide his eyes from people so they dont know which directon hes looking. Its why hes so good at manipulating safetys. He glances over at his computer and sees the nudes were able to upload before Griffin stole them.
Flacco: (Italian mob voice to himself) Oh!
FIN