KIDS! Get your asses in here! I want to tell you a story about your heritage. Everyone sit down and Grandpa will tell you about how once upon a time, he became a Dallas Cowboys fan.
Did you know that Grandpa started out as a Redskins fan? It’s true! Born and raised right here in New York City. After many years I decided I needed a change. The year was 1993 and since the ‘skins didn’t make it to the Super Bowl, Grandpa decided to jump ship. Someone told me that the Dallas Cowboys were America’s Team, and I said “Okay then. If it’s good enough for Americans, then it’s good enough for me too.”
Right then and there I felt a change coming over me. I couldn’t stop saying words like “hater”, and “Jerrah”. I’d wake up at night screaming “Dez caught it!”, though I wouldn’t know why for 22 more years.
See these five metal washers on my fingers? These are Grandpa’s Super Bowl rings. All fans get them whenever we win a Super Bowl. And we have five rings. Five. We have five rings. Jerrah hasn’t sent mine yet, so I wear these as stand-ins. But any day now…
One day you’ll all be proud and loud Cowboys fans like your gramps here. You’ll make a trip to Dallas, and the Texas weather will try to murder you. You’ll take your jersey and have it autographed by your favorite player during visiting hours at the penitentiary. You’ll sit in the stadium that Jerrah built for Eli Manning to win in, and you’ll watch go-go dancers and cheerleaders distract you from what’s happening down on the field. Later you can reminisce about the 1990’s, and how swindling Minnesota made it possible for us to win three rings, even though Barry Switzer was legally retarded for one of ’em.
Ah yes…good times. Now all you ugly bastards get scarce! We just lost to the Rams and these excuses won’t create themselves.