Johnny I am very disappointed in you.
Who the hell is this? I don’t recognize your number.
This is…
Wait don’t tell me. Is it Destiny, that blond stripper from the Booby Barn?
No, it’s…
Oh, I know. It’s Phantasia, that redheaded stripper from The Pleasure Chest?
THIS IS JIMMY HASLAM!
That’s the worst stripper name I’ve ever heard.
I am the owner of the Cleveland Browns. YOUR BOSS.
Oh, hey. ‘Sup, brah?
Johnny, your behavior lately is UNACCEPTABLE. You haven’t played a single game for us, yet you’re already embarrassing our entire franchise with your immature antics.
Look Mr. Hamslam, it’s almost noon so I’m already pretty drunk. You’re gonna have to get to the point here.
The point is that in the two short months since we drafted you in the first round, you’ve been seen in hotel pools getting drunk with scantily clad women, been caught behaving poorly at various nightclubs, AND the police had to break up a party with you and several known celebrity degenerates.
AND NOW YOU’VE BEEN PHOTOGRAPHED IN A LAS VEGAS BATHROOM TIGHTLY ROLLING UP A DOLLAR BILL!
I KNOW WHAT YOU KIDS TODAY USE THAT FOR! IT’S FOR HUFFING UP THE COCAINE, RIGHT?
What? No, I use a rolled up dollar bill as a, uh,… as a teeny tiny telescope.
Really? That’s the excuse you’re going with here? “Teeny tiny telescope?”
Yeah broseph. You know, for checking out the heavenly bodies ‘cross the dance floor and whatnot, kno whut m’sayin’?
Let me make this clear to you Johnny:
I do NOT want to see you having any wild, drug or alcohol fueled parties in Las Vegas.
Then don’t go there.
THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEAN.
That leaked photo of you with the dollar bill is a public relations nightmare for us. You ABSOLUTELY CANNOT be photographed performing any activities that look even remotely illegal!
Okay, okay, fine. Sheesh, you don’t have to be such a grump about it.
From now on, you’ll only see paparazzi shots of me with innocent harmless stuff like this:
A MARIJUANA CIGARETTE?!
What? No, it’s my miniature paper kazoo. You know, for playing gospel songs at church or whatever.
I don’t know what kind of fool you take me for, but…
Also, you might see a photo of me blowing kisses to the genie that lives in my magic lamp:
THAT IS CLEARLY A BONG.
Oh, and if you see any pictures of me bent over a flat mirror, cutting and separating some fine white powder with a razor blade, don’t worry, it’s just anthrax.
THIS IS NOT HOW I EXPECT MY FRANCHISE QUARTERBACK TO BEHAVE, JOHNNY!
Chill out, dudebro. I can’t believe you’re so butthurt just because I rolled up a dollar bill, partied hard in Vegas, and crashed a Ferrari into a busload of orphans.
I’M UPSET BECAUSE wait, was that last one?
Nothing, nothing.
I’m upset because you are quickly becoming the latest in a long line of Cleveland Browns draft-day blunders.
From Tim Couch to Brady Quinn to Brandon Weeden, QB after QB after QB have turned out to be busts for us.
But none of them became a disappointing embarrassment to our franchise quite as quickly as you have.
Wow. So you’re saying that I’ve already set a rookie record? Sweet.
THIS CALLS FOR A KILLER PARTY, BRAH! WHOOOO.
NO. MORE. PARTIES.
Johnny, if you’re going to be the quarterback of the Cleveland Browns, we need to set a few rules.
You simply CANNOT associate with people of questionable character who are a bad influence on you
Like who?
Like Justin Beiber. And Floyd Mayweather.
And Josh Gordon.
Who?
Josh Gordon. He’s, uh, a professional athlete.
On numerous occasions he’s tested positive for illegal narcotics, not to mention the fact that’s he been arrested for drunken driving.
Cool. I wanna party with that cat. Where do I meet this Josh Gordon dude?
Not on Cleveland Browns property or at any official NFL event for the next twelve months, apparently.
Bummer.
