(Garrett Hartley is practicing kicking field goals. He's making some, but he keeps shanking them to the right.)
GARRETT: Damn it! Coach isn't gonna keep me around for long if I can't make consistent kicks... (Garrett lines one up, kicks it wide right.) SHIT!
(Garrett hears something coming behind him from the left.)
GARRETT: Now what? More magical black men?
KEITH: HOW. DARE. YOU. SIR!!!
GARRETT: Huh?
KEITH: This is no ordinary set of circumstances, Mr. Hartley. This is a matter of GRAVE importance. (shuffles papers.) You cannot expect your career to move forward if you keep hitting these kicks to the right!!
GARRETT: Oh, hey, I remember you! I used to watch you on ESPN, like, a decade ago or something! How's Dan Patrick doing?
KEITH: He's fine. Now, about your kicking...
GARRETT: Yes, sir. What do you recommend?
KEITH: Kick left.
GARRETT: Aim for the left post?
KEITH: No. I mean...AIM. LEFT. You'll never move forward if you're kicking to the right. Line up perpendicular to the ball, and kick it to the left.
GARRETT: Okay...you mean into the stands?
KEITH: Exactly!!
GARRETT: I don't see how that'll help me make field goals...
KEITH: Do you want to make FIELD GOALS or do you want to make a STATEMENT?!?
GARRETT: Uh...
GLENN: Don't answer that!!!
KEITH: Aw, Christ!
GLENN: Don't let this fascist Marxist tell you what to do...LET ME DO THAT!
(Garrett Hartley face palm.)
GARRETT: Do I have to?
GLENN: What are you, Garrett? A socialist sympathizer? Why do you hate freedom?
KEITH: Erroneous! Erroneous, I tell you!!
GARRETT: What do you suggest, sir?
GLENN: You should keep aiming to the right, duh!!!!
GARRETT: Yeah, but that isn't working...
GLENN: Don't tell me it isn't working!!! What are you, some kinda one-man splinter cell?!?
GARRETT: You're nuts.
GLENN: Look, Garrett, your name starts with a 'G' and ends with a double consonant, MY name starts with a 'G' and ends with a double consonant. Who you gonna trust? By the way, can I interest you in some over-priced gold coins for the coming apocalypse?
GARRETT: Unbelievable...to hell with both of you, I'll aim for between the uprights, thank you very much.
KEITH: What, you mean, like, "the middle?"
GLENN: What the hell kinda tactic is that?!?
(Garrett walks away, leaving Keith and Glenn standing chest to chest, huffing and puffing at one another.)
KEITH: Glenn, I've always meant to ask you something.
GLENN: What is it?
KEITH: Why hock gold? I mean, in the apocalypse, won't gold be made irrelevant?
GLENN: You NEED a currency, fool! How else will capitalism flourish?!?
KEITH: Yeah, I get the whole exchange for goods and services, but why stockpile gold? Why not guns? After all, if I've got a gun, and all you've got is gold, it stands to reason...
(Glenn jams his thumbs in his ears.)
GLENN: I'm not listening! I'm not listening!! I'm not listening!!!
