David Brandon

[Ed.: Bumped for awesome.]

For pathos purposes only.

Rodriguez: Trouble at Schembechler!

Assistant: Oh no - what kind of trouble?

Rodriguez: One on't zone reed gone owt askew on spreadshred.

Assistant: Pardon?

Rodriguez: One on't zone reed gone owt askew on spreadshred.

Assistant: I don't understand what you're saying.

Rodriguez: [slightly irritatedly and with exaggeratedly clear accent] One of the zone reads has gone out askew in the spread n’ shred.

Assistant: Well what on earth does that mean?

Rodriguez: I don't know – Mr. Magee just told me to come in here and say that there was trouble at Schembechler, that's all - I didn't expect a kind of Coaching Inquisition.

[JARRING CHORD]

[The door flies open and Cardinal David Brandon of Domino’s enters, flanked by two junior cardinals. Cardinal Rosenberg has goggles pushed over his forehead. Cardinal Fatcatalumnus is just Cardinal Fatcatalumnus]

Brandon: NOBODY expects the Coaching Inquisition! Our chief Replacement Candidate is Hoke...Hoke and Miles...Miles and Hoke.... Our two Replacement Candidates are Miles and Hoke...and Patterson.... Our three Replacement Candidates are Miles, Hoke, and Patterson...and an almost fanatical devotion to Harbaugh.... Our four...no... Amongst our Replacement Candidates.... Amongst our Replacement Candidatery...are such candidates as Miles, Hoke.... I'll come in again.

[The Cardinals exit]

Rodriguez: I didn't expect a kind of Coaching Inquisition.

[JARRING CHORD]

[The cardinals burst in]

Brandon: NOBODY expects the Coaching Inquisition! Amongst our Replacement Candidatery are such diverse candidates as: Miles, Hoke, Patterson, an almost fanatical devotion to Harbaugh, and nice red uniforms - Oh damn!

[To Cardinal Rosenberg] I can't say it - you'll have to say it.

Rosenberg: What?

Brandon: You'll have to say the bit about 'Our chief Replacement Candidates are ...'

Rosenberg: [rather horrified]: I couldn't do that...

[Brandon bundles the cardinals outside again]

Rodriguez: I didn't expect a kind of Coaching Inquisition.

[JARRING CHORD]

[The cardinals enter]

Rosenberg: Er.... Nobody...um....

Brandon: Expects...

Rosenberg: Expects... Nobody expects the...um...the Coaching...um...

Brandon: Coaching Inquisition...

Rosenberg: I know, I know! Nobody expects the Coaching Inquisition. In fact, those who do expect -

Brandon: Our chief Replacement Candidates are...

Rosenberg: Our chief Replacement Candidates are...um...er...

Brandon: Hoke...

Rosenberg: Hoke and --

Brandon: Okay, stop. Stop. Stop there - stop there. Stop. Phew! Ah! ... our chief Replacement Candidates are Hoke...blah blah blah. Cardinal, read the charges.

Fatcatalumnus: You are hereby charged that you did on diverse dates commit heresy against the House of Bo. 'My old Michigan Man said follow the--'

Rosenberg: That's enough.

[To Rodriguez] Now, how do you plead?

Rodriguez: I’m innocent.

Brandon: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

[DIABOLICAL LAUGHTER]

Rosenberg: We'll soon change your mind about that!

[DIABOLICAL ACTING]

Brandon: Miles, Hoke, and a most fanatical -- [controls himself with a supreme effort] Ooooh! Now, Cardinal -- the MAJOR VIOLATIONS!

[Rosenberg produces a ONE-PAGE LIST OF NCAA MAJOR VIOLATIONS. Brandon looks at it and clenches his teeth in an effort not to lose control. He hums heavily to cover his anger]

Brandon: You....Right! Tie him down.

[Fatcatalumnus and Rosenberg make a pathetic attempt to tie Rodriguez to the sheet of NCAA Major Violations]

Brandon: Right! How do you plead?

Rodriguez: Innocent.

Brandon: Ha! Right! Cardinal, make the public [oh dear] make the public believe the violations.

[Rosenberg stands there awkwardly and shrugs his shoulders]

Rosenberg: I....

Brandon: [gritting his teeth] I know, I know you can't. I didn't want to say anything. I just wanted to try and ignore your crass mistake.

Rosenberg: I...

Brandon: It makes it all seem so stupid.

Rosenberg: Shall I...?

Brandon: No, just pretend for God's sake. Ha! Ha! Ha!

[Rosenberg pretends to publish the violations in the Free Press using a plastic coated dish rack as a printing press]

[Cut to them torturing Rodriguez]

Brandon: Now, Rodriguez -- you are accused of heresy on three counts -- heresy by Game Captains, heresy by Hick Accent, heresy by Not Understanding the Rivalry, and heresy by the Number One Jersey -- four counts. Do you confess?

Rodriguez: I don't understand what I'm accused of.

Brandon: Ha! Then we'll make you understand! Rosenberg! Fetch...THE INFLATABLE MICHIGAN MAN SEX DOLL!

[JARRING CHORD]

[Rosenberg holds out an INFLATABLE MICHIGAN MAN SEX DOLL]

Rosenberg: Here it is, Lord.

Brandon: Now, Rodriguez -- you have one last chance. Confess the heinous sin of Tiny Slot Ninjas, reject the works of Casteel -- two last chances. And you shall be free -- three last chances. You have three last chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance.

Rodriguez: I don't know what you're talking about.

Brandon: Right! If that's the way you want it -- Cardinal! Poke him with the Inflatable Michigan Man Sex Doll!

[Rosenberg carries out this rather pathetic torture]

Brandon: Confess! Confess! Confess!

Rosenberg: It doesn't seem to be hurting him, Lord.

Brandon: Have you got all the air in the schlong?

Rosenberg: Yes, Lord.

Brandon [angrily hurling away the Inflatable Michigan Man Sex Doll]: Hmm! He is made of harder stuff! Cardinal Fatcatalumnus! Fetch...THE $2.5 MILLION BUYOUT!

[JARRING CHORD]

[Zoom into Fatcatalumnus's horrified face]

Fatcatalumnus [terrified]: The...$2.5 million buyout?

[Rosenberg pushes in a GIANT PILE OF MONEY]

Brandon: So you think you are strong because you can survive the Inflatable Michigan Man Sex Doll. Well, we shall see. Rosenberg! Put him in the Giant Pile of Money!

[They roughly push him into the Giant Pile of Money]

Brandon [with a cruel leer]: Now -- you will stay in the Giant Pile of Money until another coaching job opens up, with only a year-long break on ESPN as an analyst. [Aside, to Rosenberg] Is that really all it is?

Rosenberg: Yes, Lord.

Brandon: I see. I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, do we? Confess, man. Confess! Confess! Confess! Confess!

Rosenberg: I confess!

Brandon: Not you!

exeunt