Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me.

Brian Urlacher: Hey, what's goin on?

Me:

Alex Brown: Did you, um, did you watch last night?

Me:

Tommie Harris: You guys, I don't think he's talking to us.

Me: Who's Todd Collins?

Urlacher: I don't know that name. I don't know who you're talking about.

Harris: Yeah, that sound like some accountant, or something

Me: Don't lie to me, you pricks. You remember getting plowed like a choirboy last night? Does that ring a bell? Some "accountant" bending you over his knee in front of 80,000 fans, and opening you up wider than Wacker Drive? Is it starting to come back to you?

Brown: It wasn't totally our fault. I mean, Griese had 4th and goal with 7 minutes left, down 7. The field goal wasn't our call.

Me: At this point, the offense spends entire games with its collective head between its ankles. But you guys...I just thought you were better than that. 24 points to the Redskins? To TODD COLLINS? I swore he was taking my order at Dunkin Donuts on Tuesday, and Thursday night he's tearing out your rectum in ways that - I mean, thank god it was on the NFL Network where no one could see it, because children should be prevented from seeing that game. Now get out. Go away, I have to decide whether I still want you in my life this year. I am seriously considering packing it in, and switching over to basketball, because you have hurt me. I feel betrayed, and let down, and I just...Brian, I never expected this from you, of all people. Go, just...just go.