Emmitt on the Brink – Season 9: Week 13

Emmitt on the Brink.

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.

Of course, you can always look at all of Emmitt’s quotes in the Emmitt Smith Anthology.

Emmitt Smith 2015 New England Patriots head coach.

Emmitt Smith announce his unretirement!

THE CONNECTION BETWEEN HILLARY CLINTON AND MATT MILLEN

By Alex Rodriguez, Special to the NFL Bible Network
Friday, Sept. 20, 2019

There was stunned silence from Emmitt and his companions. They didn’t understand how this was possible. How could Hillary Clinton be Matt Millen? And if that were the case, there had to be two Matt Millens, since there was one version aboard his own airship with Milo Yiannopoulos at the moment.

With such confusion, a pin dropping could’ve been heard in the room if it weren’t for Millen/Clinton’s wails. The light from the Mirror of Ra apparently was too blinding for him/her.

“Ahh, my friends what have you done to my eyesight!?” Millen/Clinton screeched. “I thought you were my friends! All I said was that I wanted to murder you – is that enough to shatter our dear friendship!?”

“Shut up, scum,” Warren Sapp said. “You’re no friend of ours.”

“How dare you address the President of the United States in such a manner!?” Millen/Clinton bellowed, still rubbing his/her eyes. “Do you know how many people I’ve killed!? Do you know!? I can make you disappear in an instant, and no one would ever question me because I am a Clinton, and no one covers up scandals like I do. No one!”

“You’re not a Clinton though!” Manziel shouted back, still holding a camera that was streaming live on YouTube. “You’re a Millen!”

“Wait, what!?” Millen/Clinton asked, trying his/her hardest to open up his/her eyes. He/she then squinted and stared directly into the mirror.

“You- the Mirror of Ra!? You have it!?” Millen/Clinton exclaimed. “How? I’ve been looking for it for years, and now you have it!? I’ll kill you, my friends!”

Millen/Clinton moved at a blinding pace. He/she tossed a vial of blood in his/her aquarium, prompting Sapp to dive in after it. He/she then chucked a handful of Fruity Pebbles at Manziel, who dropped the camera, scooped the bits of cereal up, and then inserted them into his backside. Millen/Clinton then moved toward Isaiah Crowell, who cowered in fear because he only knew how to shoot police officers. In an instant, Emmitt was the only one who was left.

“Hillary Chalmers, Matt Miller, whatever your names may be, you will not debacled myselves like you did on my friend,” Emmitt said confidently.

Millen/Clinton snickered. “If you don’t tie yourself up right now, I will murder Dianna Marie Russini,” he/she threatened.

Emmitt sighed and grabbed the rope. As a master of tying rope, Emmitt entangled himself within seconds.

“There you go, my friends-erm, I guess I don’t have to call you that now since you know my secret,” Milen/Clinton hissed. “Now, it’s only a matter of time before I open the portal to the alternate universe, and the entire world – your world – is destroyed!”

Emmitt and Crowell exchanged looks. They both knew something was off. This was not the Millen they’ve come to know and loathe. There were no mentions of 100-percent USDA Men, kielbasas or backsides. In fact, if it wasn’t for the Hillary Clinton impersonation, or his/her diabolical plan to destroy the world, they would’ve thought that he/she was a normal person. Millen/Clinton sensed the confusion, so in typical arch villain fashion, he/she began to explain everything.

“As you may have surmised by now, I am not Hillary Clinton,” Millen/Clinton explained. “There actually was never a Hillary Clinton. I’ve been posing as her for decades. I am not Millen either, however. I am a spirit from the alternate universe. For simplicity’s sake, you may call me Evil Matt Millen.

“I am basically Matt Millen, except I don’t have his sick perversions,” Evil Matt Millen continued. “I don’t refer to attractive men as 100-percent USDA Men. I don’t insert kielbasas into any backsides, either. That’s f***ing gay and disgusting. I did, however, serve as the general manager of the Evil Detroit Lions in my alternate universe, right after my husband Bill, the version who didn’t rape women, was done his presidency. Like your universe’s Matt Millen, I f***ed up that team royally, but I did so on purpose. Because I am evil.

“If you think drafting three first-round receivers in a row is bad, try eight!” Evil Matt Millen laughed. “I even drafted receivers in the second and third rounds as well! That team went 0-16 eight years in a row – until it was time for me to leave and run against Barack Obama. Unfortunately, he brainwashed the American public into thinking that he would actually do something, but I rebounded four years later and destroyed Donald Trump in the election. Now with power in your universe, I was able to build the League of Failed General Managers. I recruited your Millen, who in turn brought other terrible general managers on board, and now we will open the portal to the evil universe, and you know what that means, right Emmitt?”

“Uhh… it mean that the portal going to be open?” Emmitt asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“What? I just said that,” Evil Matt Millen snapped. “No, Emmitt, you briefly were in the evil universe when you were asleep one night. You were able to enter because you created that universe, Emmitt. You did! It’s a place where your wildest imaginations have come true. Butterflies sting, leopards have stripes, and people get debacled. With the portal open, everyone in your universe will be debacled!”

Evil Matt Millen began to laugh maniacally, but was interrupted with a loud noise. The wall blew open, and an elderly man stood there, staring angrily with his hands on his hips.

It was Bernie Sanders!