The premise: Coming off a Super Bowl victory, the Patriots open the 2013 season with a blowout win. Unfortunately, they get into trouble for Spygate II. As punishment, Roger Goodell orders the Patriots to fire Bill Belichick and replace him with Emmitt Smith. Three years later, the Patriots beat the Bears in the Super Bowl, 2-0. After the game, Emmitt announced his retirement.
This is a weekly feature that will take a newspaper reporter's perspective and follow Emmitt through his post-retirement days.
By Alex Rodriguez, Special to the NFL Bible Network Thursday, Sept. 17, 2020
Evil Emmitt and Ezekiel Elliott crept in the bushes of a large, white mansion from afar. They stared at the back door intently, and it was clear that Evil Emmitt was anticipating that something would happen.
"What are we waiting for?" Elliott whispered.
"You will see in dude time," Evil Emmitt replied quietly. "Soon, the door gonna open back up and something going to happen. The door right there, not the front door but the opposite of frontness, I cannot remember what it called."
"Back door?" Elliott asked.
"No, we not going back to the door," Evil Emmitt replied. "We gonna wait here until somethings happened."
Minutes later, Evil Emmitt's prediction came true. The door swung open, and a rather large man appeared. He held a slender man by his shirt. It appeared as though the large man wanted to devour the slender man, but he used all of his might to resist.
"If you say something like that to my daughter again, I shall feed you to the hounds!" the large man bellowed.
The large man then hurled the slender man onto the back lawn and slammed the door shut.
"Is that our guy?" Elliott asked. Evil Emmitt nodded, and Elliott wasted no time darting toward the individual.
"Who are you?" the slender man asked. He wore sunglasses that seemed to be part of his daily ensemble even though he wasn't blind. The slender man then extended his arm, appearing eager to conduct a handshake that was popular in the 1990s.
"I have no interest in doing a secret handshake with you," Elliott snarled. "But I will do something with my hand to your face!"
Elliott cocked his arm back and fired his fist into the slender man's face. The slender man's jaw exploded, and blood gushed everywhere. The slender man collapsed into the grass, and reached out toward the mansion with his final remaining energy.
"Will..." he tried to say, but the blood in his throat prevented the word from escaping his larynx.
A golden sphere rose out of the slender man's corpse, and Elliott retrieved it and placed it into his man purse.
Hours later, Elliott was at Cowboys Stadium, standing in Jerry Jones' office. Jones looked relieved to see that his prized player was safe and sound.
"Ezekiel, by gum, it is great that you have returned to this here stadium," Jones said. "Our team needs you like a cow needs to graze on a hazy day. What is this I hear about you laying your fist on another DJ's face? No matter, we will release Lucky Whitehead again to distract the media from bringin' attention to this here matter, and then we gonna sue everyone who speaks ill of our actions. They'll be chasing their tales like a fox runnin' around tryin' to catch a hyena in the savannah."
Elliott didn't respond. Instead, he opened his man purse and revealed the golden sphere. Jones knew what it was by his reaction.
"By gum, that here golden orb is real dangerous," Jones quivered. "Put that doggone thing away back into your man sack, and I will give you a brand new contract. How does $500 million over two seasons sound, Ezekiel? Surely that will make you happier than a grasshopper on a fleet-lotus seed during a warm Texas night in the summer time."
Elliott did not accept Jones' offer. He hurled the sphere toward Jones, and the two seemingly became one for a second. That did not last very long, as Jones' life energy was sucked into the sphere. In a matter of moments, he was completely gone. Elliott picked up the sphere and left the room, handing it to Evil Emmitt, who was waiting in the hallway. Evil Emmitt beamed.
"One down, uhh... three to go... or maybe two... or maybe eight..." Evil Emmitt said.
OBTAINING BRETT FAVRE'S GOOSE EGG
By Alex Rodriguez, Special to the NFL Bible Network Unknown, Month?, XYZV
Thanks to Peyton Manning's resourcefulness, real Emmitt and his companions were able to locate Brett Favre. The former quarterback was stationed in a farm in the swamps of Mistissippi. Real Emmitt and his friends found him sitting in a tractor, staring into his phone.
"Brett Far, you just the guy I beened looking for this whole time, or rather this recent time since the time I learnted about you at that one time," real Emmitt muttered.
"Hey Emmitt, I'm glad you're here because I need your help," Favre said.
"What a cowinfluence, because we also need your help as well too also as well too," real Emmitt said.
"Maybe I'll help you if you guys can help me first," Favre said. "I've been getting these creepy pictures on my phone. This woman, her name is Jen, she keeps sending me photographs of her, well, how do I put this, her female parts."
"What part those?" real Emmitt asked. "I sometime get e-mail, and then I upgrade to G-mail, which almosted like e-mail except they change the number 'E' to the number 'G.' Sometime these G-mails have part like the part at the beginning where person say hello, or the part at the middle where person say thing, or the part at the end where the person say the opposite of hello, I forgetted what it call."
"Oh, I didn't mean e-mail parts," Favre said. "I meant female, as in women," Favre replied.
"Then why you talking about e-mail then?" real Emmitt asked, frustrated.
"OK, let me reword it," Favre said patiently. "A woman is sending me pictures of her vagina, and these pictures are creepy, and I don't know what to do about it."
"Oh my gosh, that sounds horrible!" the single ranger squeaked. "It's impossible to talk to women, so I don't even know what I'd do if I got pictures of vaginas!"
"These text messages are brought to you by herpes," Manning chimed in. "Herpes, any of a group of viral diseases caused by herpes viruses, affecting the skin or the nervous system."
"Thanks, Peyton, but let me help," the striped leopard said. "Brett, it seems as though your issues could be fixed by either reporting the matter to the authorities, or to reciprocate the matter by sending her pictures of your penis instead."
"Hmm... wow, I never thought of that," Favre said. "Sending pictures of my penis ... that just might work! Wow, guys, thanks! You guys are true life-savers."
"I glad we solve the e-mail problem," real Emmitt said. "Now, Brett Far, maybe you can help us assistance. We need the goose egg, and we knowed you have it because Rosemont McDonald telled us you do."
"Jeez, how did she know that?" Favre said, taken aback. "As you guys surely know, geese have been extinct in the evil realm for quite some time, but I managed to obtain this big goose egg by going into
Dallas nine times. It was weird. I went into Dallas for the ninth time, and the big goose egg suddenly appeared in my man purse. I still have no idea how it got there, but it certainly had to do with going into Dallas for the ninth time."
Real Emmitt smiled. It may not have made sense to Favre, but it did to him. He said it, after all. However, one question still lingered.
"How we gonna kill Norm Turner falcon neck with this big goosed egg?" real Emmitt asked.
No one seemed to know the answer to that question, perhaps because no one understood it.