In Florida, a ferry approaches an otherwise desolate island.
A young quarterback exits the ferry and starts across the island.
The Herky pterodactyl swoops down on Vandenberg, knocking him to the ground.
Did you see that? Can you believe there are still people who don't think Herky could fly?
Can I have a moment of your time? Are you a marine biologist? I desperately need a marine biologist. No, I'm your former quarterback. Oh. Well, quarterback, you're on my land and I didn't invite you. But you're Ken O'Keefe. Listen, there's the path. Run run run. Open gate. Exit gate. Close gate. Last ferry leaves at 6:30, so you'd better hustle. /walks away Wait! Wait! I came because of Iowa football! /stops /turns back
Meanwhile, in the basement of the Hayden Fry football complex...
whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrbleepybloopywhirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr PING 
Back on the island, Vandenberg and O'Keefe have retired to O'Keefe's cabin
Are you paying attention? Yes. I loved the part where you nuked Ames. So fitting. Come over here. I'm going to tell you a bedtime story. Once upon a time, there lived a magnificent football team which dominated the league for ages. They ran, they passed, they kicked and punted, until one day, very recently, they hired Rich Rodriguez. Football just gave up and started over again. Iowa football was nothing more than a speck of dust then, and when it's gone, football will start again. Football knows when to give up, James. I'm not giving up. If we lose Marchifornication, it will be your fault. I'm not talking about Marchifornication, James. I'm talking about the machine. The machine? You see, back in 2002, our offense was great, and it wasn't even that complicated. We just had Banks make a read or two and, if they weren't open, take off running. It was so simple that I had Iowa researchers create a playcalling machine. The machine has been calling my plays since 2003 with magnificent predictability. Last year, I nearly defected to Missouri with the machine, but I couldn't get it out of the basement of the football complex. The whole purpose of the machine was to practice football without human error getting in the way. The only problem was, I couldn't get the machine to learn the most important lesson. What's that? Futility. That there is a time when you should just give up and punt. What kind of a lesson is that? Did you ever play tic-tac-toe? Sure. But you don't anymore? No. It's boring and it's always a tie. EXACTLY. The game is pointless. There's never a winner. Well, back in the press box, they believe you can win a football game. That there can be acceptable losses. So you gave up? Joined the dolphins? For security reasons, they graciously arranged my job in Miami. It doesn't matter now, though. Now that I'm gone, the machine doesn't have the code. The secrets of the machine will be lost forever. The code? There is a seven-digit code that must be entered for it to become operational. Only I know it. Without the code, all that thing can do is make coffee. Wait, did you say it's a coffee machine in the basement of the football complex? Yes. 1030 OOK. What was that? 1030 OOK. It was on the readout of the coffee machine that stole my dollar before I came here. Good God. What? WHAT? It's become self-aware. If the machine gets the code, it could be an end to the entire enterprise. Kirk Ferentz, Phil Parker, you, me... Gary Dolphin. What was that? If Iowa football goes away, Gary Dolphin probably loses his job too. Jesus. The dolphins. We must get to Iowa City.