Dear Sean Payton’s, Smug Face Part III. I’m starting to drink the Tea.

I am sitting in a dark room alone on the most comfortable leather couch I’ve ever been on, with the only light coming from the embers in my Sherlock Holmes style pipe, when out of know where I hear the subtle sound of keys jingling, I think to myself someone is trying to find the right one to open the old oak front door, when then I finally hear the locking mechanism start to turn and the door slowly starts to swing open, illuminating my mustard stained face, I looked towards the opening door and saw the whites of someone’s eyes in the doorway, I started to speak in a gravely mucus field voice, “Well… well… well, Mr. Payton we meet again. I wish it was under better circumstances, but it brings me great sadness to say that the season has concluded, and it looks like, well there is no easy way to say this but, the Broncos have unfortunately missed out on the playoffs yet again...” Sean looks at me with the most confused look on his face and said “what the hell are doing inside my house?” I looked at him just as confused and after I coughed up a Lougee and spit it on his freshly coated hardwood floors, I responded with “I’m here to give you your yearly performance review” he looks at me with more confusion than before and says “who the hell are you? you know what I don’t care, get the hell out of my house before I call the cops.” I respond with a finally clear throat “there’s no need for law enforce” I rub and pat the seat next to me and say, “why don’t you come on over and we can have a little chat…” to my surprise and grin he wondered over and took a sit next to me and says “you have 3 minutes.” I thought to myself no way I can’t believe that actually worked... maybe movies are real… He looks me in the eyes, and I start to talk with the most nervous stutter I’ve ever had. “Wha wha wha, where did you get this couch; my god is it comfortable?” He smiles at me and says, “you have 2 minutes.”

“Alright, Alright so were not doing small talk I get it, this was the year Sean, is it ok if I call you Sean?” “No!” “Ok Great…” “this was the year Sean, look at the division it was in complete shambles. The Chiefs took a step back, Brandon Staley coached the Chargers into the ground while in the process Herbert got hurt and The Raiders, well The Raiders are The Raiders. Now I know you have elements that are out of your control that you can blame other than yourself. Like Russell Wilson for example… I’m not going to lie about this but you kind of made Russell salvageable again. You helped Russell get back to somewhat normal. He had 10 more touchdowns than last year; he had a much better passer rating and most importantly the Broncos had a better record. But it still wasn’t enough to get this team to the playoffs. I would like to say that the defense was your fault but you and I both know that is not your department. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I truly don’t think it was your fault Sean…” He walks away and looks at me with a non-smug smile and says “Go Onnn, but hey before you continue, I’m going to put the kettle on would you like some tea?” I ash out my Sherlock pipe into an old Diet Mountain can and say “yeah, tea sounds great do you have any Earl Grey?” he pokes his head out of the kitchen and says “no just ginger lemon if that’s ok? I respond, “boy I would really love a cup of Earl Grey, but I guess ginger lemon is ok.”

               After a couple of minutes Sean comes walking over with two piping hot mugs of tea and sets them down on the table in front of us. He then crossed his legs, took a long sip of tea, and said “you were saying” I then grabbed my tea, crossed my legs, and took a giant swig. While taking my first sip I burned my whole entire mouth, but I continued with my review with scorched lips hindering the process. “The Broncos higher ups deserve most of the blame, I know you had a great roster built around a young defense, with offense weapons for days. To be honest I didn’t hate the move to bring in Russell Wilson but then I saw the contract and the first thing that came to mine was, how am I out of Oreos, second that’s way too much money and way to way years to spend on a mobile quarterback in his early thirties. What were the Broncos thinking? I know the Waltons have a lot of money and they want to win now but that is an insane contract to offer an aging quarterback not named Tom Brady. I’m sure you would agree Sean.” He took another vigorous sip of tea and nodded his head in agreement, or he was just cracking his neck. I couldn’t tell because my eyes were still watering from how hot my first sip was. I looked at him as he continued to sip his tea and said “how the hell are you still drinking that its soo hot?” he looked at me with that famous smug face and said “if you have felt the heat of a pressure packed Super Bowl this would be nothing for you, I have ice in my veins that cools down my tea.” Once I heard that I thought, boy I would run through a brick wall for this guy… Then me thinking I have ice in my veins I took another giant sip and instantly spat it out all over myself and said “yeahhh I definitely don’t have ice in my veins.” He laughed for the first time all night and said, “you will get there one day.” I felt like I was forming a real friendship with this guy.

He ran to the kitchen and grabbed a large fancy square whiskey ice cube from the freezer and plopped it right in my tea and I looked at him with puppy dog eyes and said “Thank You Sean, that’s way to kind of you” he sat back down, and I continued talking about how I thought the offensive game plan was great and Russell just didn’t know what he was doing back there. When I was finished talking about all the positives of the year it was unfortunately time for me to bring up the flaws that he over the course of the season. I told him with a nervous voice “It’s just a thought but you might want try using those great wide receivers in different ways, getting them in space could really help you in the long run, maybe try getting the ball out quicker because Russell seems to struggle with every extra second he spends in the pocket and I don’t know maybe try being nicer to the players, don’t yell so much, there is an old saying, you catch more bees with honey than vinegar… you're clearly a nice guy, you got me tea even after I broke into your house.” I thought he would instantly kick me out of his house once I started talking about the negatives. But to my surprise he seemed to be more and more engaged with each sip of tea I had and each word I said. I started falling deeper and deeper into those eyes, it was like I took Amortentia, a love potion from the Harry Potter series. Sean then said to me with a interested look on his face, “those are some great ideas; I will take them into account for next season.” “Really?” I responded with genuine curiosity” “Wow, you know what Sean, I was wrong about you, I thought you were just this smug a-hole whose shit didn’t stink but boy was I wrong, I am utterly surprised by you, you have been so nice and welcoming to me, I think you are all set up to have one of your best seasons ever next year.”

All of a sudden, I started to feel real sleepy with all my body parts beginning to go numb, the next thing I know my vison started to blur and I saw 9 fingers on my right hand, I looked at Sean with slobber coming out the corner of my mouth and said “what did you put in my teaaa?” before I could finish my sentence, I fell over and collided with the spit covered hardwood floor… the next morning I woke up in a cold jail cell with a brown folder taped to my chest. I slowly started to lift my body up off the hard metal bench I was laying on into a sitting up position when I looked to my right and saw a guy picking his nose and flicking the boogers all over the jail cell walls. My eyes may have been deceiving me, but it looked like he was making a portrait of the Milky Way Galaxy with all the remnants inside his nose. It could have been some side effects of the tea I had but I started staring harder and harder at it till my head hurt but I swear I saw Orien and his Belt; I began to wonder to myself if this guy was Booger Picasso and how many stars were in that noise of his, I mean they just kept coming there had to be at least a hundred rolled up boogers on the walls of this jail cell. Once I was done being memorized by the skills of the Booger Picasso, I looked down at the folder that was taped to my chest and slowly started to open it, revealing a restraining order from Sean Payton and his family. I staired at it in disbelief for a couple minutes and said out loud “Huh… maybe I wasn’t forming a long-lasting friendship with Sean.”