Topps Football 1978
Every player looks like they've been given the worst news of their life.
Hey man…
Got a minute?
Yeah, I know you’re kinda busy. Sorry.
Good thing you’re sitting down.
Sorry, I’m just looking for the right words.
Bear with me.
It’s about your bird.
Take a minute if you need to.
Wait, hang on a sec. I had nothing to do with it.
You got like some guy that comes by to feed it?
Kind of a dipshit, tbh?
Mickey?
Ring a bell? Thought so.
Yeah. Mickey it is. Wait…why would I be bullshitting you?
I swear, man. Just listen, ok.
No, I’m not the same guy who came to you with a
fucking bird story last summer.
I wouldn’t lie to you about your bird, honest.
Just listen. Don’t be that way. C’mon.
That’s better.
Your friend Mickey took the bird out to a bar.
Yeah, that was my reaction, too. 100%
I guess he thought he had permission?
Sorry. I’ll keep it moving, guy.
Women love the bird. Of course. And he’s playing pool.
Where’s the bird? I’ll tell you.
Mickey’s got the bird on his shoulder.
And he starts losing real fucking bad.
And the guy he’s losing to gets an idea.
His friend is a cook at the bar.
Your bird feeder, Mickey, loses like four more games.
And, well, the cook comes out …
And he’s got his apron on. He’s waving his fucking spatula
around. It’s like an old cartoon at this point.
Calm down.
No you shouldn’t, just — just hang up, ok?
Anyway, the cook tells Mickey …
That the bar is no place for the bird,
and he gives Mickey and the bird a ride
back to your place and — I don’t think
I’m a complete asshole. Wait. WTF.
Actually none of that shit happened.
Have a good practice today.
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