Thursday, January 27, 2011
Lance and Brett discuss retirement......and gravy.
*phone picks up, gets dropped on ground, picked up again, muffled sounds for approximately 10-12 seconds*
B: ARMSTRONG! Wake up!
L: Brett? Oh, hey man. Do you know what time it is?
B: Yeah, dude, it’s 11 in the morning. How long you been asleep?
L: Well, Phelps was here last night. We hit the-uh…well, we were up all night.
B: Ah! Hangin’ with the Marijuanaquaman again? Aren’t you worried about the piss tests, bro?
L: Well, they haven’t caught me yet!
*laughter from both for approximately 1 minute*
B: You are so awesome, Lance! Riding a bike and getting paid! Then you ride a bike. And then you get paid! Then you ride a-
L: Brett, are we gonna do this again?
B: Nah! I’m just saying, you know. Its not as if you got twelve 300 pound goliaths running at you like freight trains trying to kill you or nothing.
B: I mean, what do you worry about? 112 pound Jacques might slide a little and you fall off your bike?
L: Dude! Did you see my AMGEN wreck? I had to go to the frickin’ hospital!
L: *sigh* Brett! Is there a reason why you woke me up?
B: Well, I wanted to talk to about this retiring thing-
L: Ah! This again! You’ve changed your mind like 13 times in the last 48 hours. What IS your decision at this moment?
B: Oh, I’m retiring. I mean, have you seen my x-rays? I’m pretty F’d up!
L: OK, so what’s the big deal? Retire! Just Retire!
B: Well, I want to know what you are doing? You know with the bike thing?
L: It’s not a “thing”, Brett, its competitive racing. And I’m going to keep on doing as long as I want.
B: What about that Tour de Frog thing?
L: France, Brett. It’s the Tour de FRANCE. Dear, Lord! Do you read?
B: Whatever, Eurotrash, are you gonna do it again next year?
L: I’m not sure. But, if I can, I will. It’s a complete challenge of my body and mind. The race gathers dozens of top competitors on one road to be victorious over the clock, each other and themselves. It was a dream for me from a young age. I’ll keep at it as long as I can ride.
*silence for approximately 20 seconds*
L: Brett, you there? Crap did you hang up on me you son of a-
B: No, man, I’m here. I was just thinkin’ about what you said about your little bike club thing.
L: DAMNIT, Favre-
B: Hang on! I’m serious. The words you said are like how I feel about football……..and gravy, and deep fat fried snickers……but, especially football……Dude, I’m coming out of retirement!
*sounds on the phone line of 47 FBI agents cheering*
L: What the hell was that?
B: I don’t know. I think my cordless is on the same frequency as my neighbors or something. It's been happening a lot lately.
L: ………OK. So, you’re coming back then?
B: Yes! I am coming back!
L: OK. For what team?
B: I’m thinkin’ the Raiders.
*sounds on the phone line of 47 FBI agents screaming expletives and obscenities interspersed with apparent death threats directed at Mr. Favre*
L: Dude! I’m hanging up!
*phone line clicks off. Recording continues with sounds of sobbing from agents*
*2 minutes later: Sound of a pistol going off is heard*