AH DON'T BUHLEEVE IT, THAT'S REX GROSSMAN'S MUSIC. WHAT THE HELL IS REX GROSSMAN DOING AT THE SUPERBOWL?
Grossman walks out in a Seahawks jersey, throws dozens of interceptions.
Michaels: Kitna's showing no mercy out there at all. He's got Orton propped up against the turnbuckle and he's kicking him, giving him a spleen and a liver.
Collinsworth: Great technique by Kitna, there. You can see him faking like he's going to go with that big right hand but he's coming with the boot every time.
Michaels: Orton's looking to his corner for a whiskey bottle to try and turn this thing around.
Collinsworth: We've seen him use that thing all sorts of ways. Bashing guys over the head with the bottle, spitting it into their eyes, sending them into a lifelong spiral of alcoholism that will poison their relationships and endanger their health. (chuckles)
(Girls, Girls, Girls blares over the arena sound system)
Michaels: WAIT A MINUTE WHAT'S THAT? THAT'S REX GROSSMAN'S MUSIC, AND MAYBE HE CAN LEND A HAND TO HIS STRUGGLING TEAMMATE
Orton looks to the tunnel. Kitna pauses, mid-pummel.
Michaels: Well we've got the music, we've got the montage of interceptions, but so far, no Grossman.
(the song begins its second verse, the jumbotron video loops)
(Grossman is nowhere to be found)
Tafoya: I just got a text message from Rex Grossman that says "Michele, I think I'm at the wrong arena. Did you say Cleveland or Columbus?"
Tafoya: "Michele, you better send a lawyer, there's Disney on Ice here, and I just threw Aladdin into a pile of prop daggers."
Rivers: I've got something to say to you Jay Cutler, you gutless jerk-face, you cut-rate commodore, and your entire crew of second-city screwballs. We're gonna have a nice clean match, none of that malarkey of the midway, none of your disqualifications, just you, me, my bolo ties, and the entire city of San Diego, you no-good, low-down, clown, when I put you in the Rivers of Dreams. DARN IT!
WHAT'S THAT? IT'S JAY CUTLER'S MUSIC! (Dave Matthews starts playing)
I'M SURE JAY'S GOT SOMETHING TO SAY TO RIVERS, AND MAYBE HE'LL CHALLENGE HIM FOR THE BELT RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW
(music plays, montage of text messages flies across the jumbotron)
(no one ever comes out of the tunnel)
Trestman grabs the mic from Pam Oliver
I'VE GOT SOMETHING TO SAY TO YOU, MIKE SHERMAN AND ALL OF YOU PACKERS OUT THERE
(pauses to look at 3x5 index card)
I'LL SEE YOU AT THE (drops card)
I SAID IT'LL BE A COLD DAY IN HELL BEFORE THE CANADIAN DEATH MACHINE
(gets inadvertently trucked by the down marker)
'CAUSE ALL YOU TREST MANIACS OUT THERE KNOW
(backs up into piece of television equipment, gives himself a wedgie, somehow)
BAH GAWD WHAT'S THAT! IT'S BILL BELICHICK'S MUSIC
(Mid-period Bon Jovi blares, fireworks go off, jumbotron shows a montage of Belichick scowling)
OH YOU BET HE'S GOT SOMETHING TO SAY TO THE RYAN BROTHERS AFTER THEY'VE TAUNTED HIM MERCILESSLY WEEK AFTER WEEK
(Belichick grabs the microphone from Pam Oliver)
First of all, fellas our goal is to just go out there and wrestle better than those other wrestlers. What's that? No, I'll have to take a look at the tape of that body slam. I think we just gotta go out there and execute. Headbutt. Elbow drop. Jump off the top rope, and then miss and writhe around for awhile.
No that's all. Thanks.
I apologize if my actions took away from the great work of my tag-team partners, the New Zealand guys who stomp around a lot, pummel people and hit them in the face with garbage cans. I probably should have handled it differently when I singled out Rowdy Roddy Piper in an interview with Gorilla Monsoon after I threw him and dozens of other men through the announcers' table. But it is what it is.
Something Awful is in the process of changing hands to a new owner. In the meantime we're pausing all updates and halting production on our propaganda comic partnership with Northrop Grumman.
Dear god this was an embarrassment to not only this site, but to all mankind
Yes, there are finally enough games for a new round of One Sentence Reviews
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