(Scene: Jeremy Shockey is sitting on his plush pleather couch watching Discovery Channel. He's got a few guests with him. As usual, Motley Crue is on in the background.)
SHOCKEY: Fuckin' Shark Week's on, people, look alive!
(Shockey proceeds to turn the volume up on his 90-inch HD television and switch on the surround sound.)
SHOCKEY: I swear, this is like the greatest week of the year, far as I'm concerned! Ain't that right, Malcolm?
SHOCKEY: Whatever, bro. Jon, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout, right?
GRUDEN: You're GODDAMN right Shark Week is awesome, J-Shock! My favorite part is when the sharks go "GAAAAA" with their mouths and they just "SPLOSH" on them seals and the seals are all like, "Don't eat me" but the sharks are like, "I'm gonna eat you anyway!!!" If I weren't doing Monday Night Football this year, I'd go work on Discovery so I could go uppercut some sharks in the taint!!!
SHOCKEY: Sweet, yo.
GRUDEN: By the way, thanks for inviting me over.
SHOCKEY: Don't mention it, Coach Chucky. What were you in town for anyways?
GRUDEN: Uh, I was at training camp.
SHOCKEY: ... Really?
GRUDEN: Yeah. Met with Coach Payton and everything.
SHOCKEY: Fuck, I must've missed it, dude.
GRUDEN: I shook your hand and everything. You said "hi, good to have you out here."
SHOCKEY: Oh, I was hung over, brosef. I was out getting ma drink on with a fine lady. Here, look...
GRUDEN: Well...I'm not your coach, so far be it from me to tell you what to do.
SHOCKEY: Hey, Malcolm, what-choo think about this chick, huh?
SHOCKEY: Ah, fuck off. Hey, Gregg, whatta you think?
MORSTEAD: Uh, it's Thomas, Mr. J-Shock. Not "Gregg." And that woman's showing her underpants in that picture. I don't think that's very lady like.
SHOCKEY: Christ, sake, punt-boy! You're coming off like some pussy ass blue shark. Know what a blue shark is, Tom? It combs the oceans lazily and is a tiny-ass little fish. Fucker looks like it's gonna cry all the damn time!
SHOCKEY: You wanna be that guy, Tom?
MORSTEAD: Golly, no, sir.
GRUDEN: Good, son, cause nobody likes a pussy. "Some" pussy, maybe; but "a" pussy. Got it?
MORSTEAD: I think so...
SHOCKEY: Shit, Coach Chucky, you're my kinda dude!
GRUDEN: Thanks, J-Shock. Hey, what's your favorite kinda shark, man?
SHOCKEY: Dude, you even HAVE to ASK? Motherfuckin' great white shark, dude!
SHOCKEY: Yep, ol' number 88 is a regular sexual great white shark! What kinda shark you like, Coach?
GRUDEN: Oh, same thing as you; I'm a great white fan.
SHOCKEY: Wait, are we talking about the band or the shark?
GRUDEN: The shark.
SHOCKEY: Oh. Hey, Malcolm, what's your favorite shark?
MALCOLM: My agent has advised me not to say or do anything until he gives me the okay.
(Jeremy Shockey throws a couch pillow at Malcolm.)
SHOCKEY: Oh, for fuck's sake, man! You're allowed to function as a fucking person in the meantime, twat waffle! So quit fucking holdin' out here and get in the conversation!
MALCOLM: Uh...I like...I can't make up my mind. I dunno.
GRUDEN: Whatever, young gun. Hey, punt-boy, whatta you like?
MORSTEAD: Me? Oh, I like the cat shark.
GRUDEN: Oh, cat shark, like this?
SHOCKEY: Kinda small, ain't it?
MORSTEAD: No, guys. THIS is a cat shark....
GRUDEN: Holy fuck, my eyes!
SHOCKEY: Sonnuva bitch, punt-boy, I'm gonna have nightmares for a week! Malcolm, ain't that gross?
MORSTEAD: What? Oh, here comes another shark attack victims show!!
(Ed. note: These little vignettes are inspired by the guys at KSK. Just wanted to make sure I'm covering my bases.)