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T.O. Wants a Chinese Quarterback

April 26, 2015


T Owens

DALLAS, TX – Last Sunday marked a victory for Mankind when the Dallas Cowboys were eliminated from the playoffs by the Philadelphia Eagles. The score was 44-6, a trouncing severe enough to lift all of humanity from darkness into the light, and bring hope to even the outer reaches of the galaxy. One three-headed organism from the planet LaGuardia, in the Dinkins Nebula, said that he, or she, or it (three genders are represented on that world, including one that humans call “women with bushy eyebrows”), would rather see the hated Cowboys relegated to the sidelines than survive a death-ray from neighboring planet, Koch. But then the shadows returned when, in an interview, Terrell Owens opened his mouth to announce that he would lobby team owner, Jerry Jones, to have Tony Romo replaced by a Chinese quarterback.

“I’m all about diversity,” screamed Owens. “Everyone says that I’m all about T.O., but that’s not true. I understand that what this country needs is more Affirmative Action. Now listen: In San Francisco, the fag capital of the world, I ruined the life of Hispanic-America quarterback, Jeff Garcia. I even gave my opinion that he was a fag. Why else was he playing in San Fran?”

“But, T.O.,” interjected a reporter, “Jeff Garcia is married to a former Playmate of the Year.”

“Please, bitch, that marriage is airbrushed.”

“Okay, then what about the fact that you also played for San Fran? And come to think of it, no one has ever seen you with a woman – just a lot of men, who you take showers with after every game and practice.”

“Hey, just like there’s no ‘I’ in ‘team,’ there’s no ‘T.O.” in ‘cocksucker.’”

“Actually, there is an ‘O’ in ‘cocksucker.’”

“Shut up! That’s just a media invention. Where was I? Right, diversity. After destroying the life of a Hispanic-American, I absolutely mauled the psyche of an African-American quarterback, Donovan McNabb. That chump will never look at his life the same again after I called him a coward and a mama’s boy.”

“But, T.O., Donovan’s Eagles just slaughtered your Cowboys, forty-four to six.”

“Oh,” laughed Owens, “you think that was my fault? Nah, that loss was all on our Italian-American quarterback, Tony Romo.”

“Who you destroyed like your two previous quarterbacks, right?”

“Right, but that was only because I’m an equal-opportunity quarterback obliterator.”

“Which is why you now want a Chinese-American quarterback?”

“Exactly, man,” said Owens, who dropped to the ground and did fifty sit-ups, after which he banged out fifty push-ups. Then he jumped to his feet, and said: “Do you think that Chinese motherfucker can do that? I bet he’s a fag just like Garcia, and a pansy just like McNabb, and an un-drafted joke like Romo. I haven’t met the guy yet. Man, I’ve never even heard of a Chinese quarterback, but I need him to complete my grand-slam of QBs who failed to center their personal and professional lives around me, Terrell Owens. Maybe Yao Ming has a brother, or something, some freak Chinese dude who can throw me the damn ball, though he’ll never throw it to me enough times.”

At that point, Owens performed a bad imitation of a Chinese quarterback, slanting his eyes and pretending to karate-chop a football, and yelling out, “No tic-kee, no throw to dat beautiful wide-out, honorable T.O. As-sole, grasshopper…See, I’m already screwing with his head.”

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