In a motel room in Florida. A helicopter is parked above room 206.
The chip reverses the cortex polarity and bypasses the neuron mainframe. Once the software decodes the text and pumps it onto your cerebrolobe, you're helpless. That text message makes you a zombie until your brain tells you the task is done. And there's only one person I know who prefers to get things done by text message.
Five minutes later...
The bathroom door opens, and steam billows out.
At the football complex in Champaign...
OH SHIT OW OW OW MY JAW IS SHATTERED TIME TO COVER "THROUGH THE WIRE"
In the Zooker's office...
A few minutes later...
Now look, J. A coach has things he needs to get done, and his players aren't there to question why or how, their job is to get the job done. You understand that, right? You're a soldier! You're in Freedom Squad! You don't second-guess the commanding officer!
Meanwhile, at the Notre Dame coaching offices, Charlie Weis convenes his high council.
If Lou sold us out, we're in trouble. Believe me, a lot of trouble.
Has anyone been able to get in touch with Lou?
I've been trying all night. He might be shacked up.
Lou never sleeps over with a broad. He always goes home when he's through.
Give him a ring.
[The door opens. Clausen enters]
Hey, Jimmy. I thought I told you to stay put.
Well the guys at the gates *cough* they say they got a package.
Yeah? Willingham, go see what it is.
You want me to hang around?
Yeah, hang around. You feeling alright?
Yeah, I'm fine.
There's some food in the icebox. You hungry or anything? How about a little drink? Some brandy to sweat it out or something?
Yeah, sure, that might be a good idea.
[Clausen gets a drink and exits]
Davie, I want you to take care of that son of a bitch right away. Jimmy sold the old man out. Make that the first thing on your list, understand?
Tomorrow, get a couple of guys, go over to Lou's apartment, wait for him to show. Someone try Lou again...
[Ty Willingham enters with the package and tosses it in Weis' lap]
[Charlie Weis angrily gets into his car and drives away.]
[Charlie approaches a toll booth]
Wait a second, this isn't a tollbooth attendant, this is a Civil War cannon!
[Brains splatter across the windshield]
Cornshoe Hammaker rides again!
AND THEN ARA PARSEGHIAN KILLS THE GUY WHO PLAYED PHIL LEOTARDO BECAUSE LEOTARDO TOLD HIM TO GET HIS SHINEBOX
MISTER PATERNO WILL BE FINE THANK YOU
We've been sitting here for 25 minutes listening to this asinine fantasy, but now you're just ripping off The Godfather. Can we talk about the polls?
OH GOD THE POLES
I ONCE HAD A POLISH LINEBACKER BY THE NAME OF PAUL POSLUZSOMETHING, AND HE HAD AN IQ OF RETARDED. WE HAD HIM CONVINCED THAT THE FOOTBALL WAS A SECRET WEREWOLF BOMB SO DANGEROUS THAT YOU COULDN'T EVEN SEE THE FUSE. WHAT YOU THOUGHT WAS A FIERY INTENSITY BEST SUITED FOR THE LINEBACKER POSITION WAS ACTUALLY A FRANTIC EFFORT TO KEEP THE BOMB FROM EXPLODING AND TURNING BOTH FRIEND AND FOE INTO WEREWOLVES