PIGGY, COLONPOKEY AND THE PSYCHIC GPS ARE ESCORTED BY THE NEW ENGLAND ROYAL GUARD INTO A LARGE GLASS PALACE. THE PALACE IS DECORATED IN YELLOW PENALTY FLAGS.
The Flying Pig: Why do I feel like I am being watched?
Colonpokey: Me too
Psychic GPS: We are being watched. There are video cameras all over this place recording what we do
Royal Guard Officer: We record. That is what we do in New England. Now keep quiet we are taking you to meet King Belichick.
THE ROYAL GUARD TAKES THEM DOWN A LONG HALL INTO A GIANT AUDITORIUM. AT THE END OF THE AUDITORIUM KING BELICHICK IS SITTING IN A GIANT IRON THRONE. HE IS DRESSED IN A SILVER HOODIE ADORNED WITH RUBIES AND SAPHIRES. THERE ARE TWO REFEREES TO THE RIGHT OF THE KING. TO HIS LEFT THERE ARE TWO OTHER MEN, THE COMMISIONER AND DUKE KRAFT. IN FRONT OF THE KING THERE IS A PEASANT SURROUNDED BY ROYAL GUARD KNEELING IN FRONT OF THE KING AND BEGGING FOR FORGIVENESS.
The Peasant: (in a New England accent) Please your highness. I did the best I can.
King Belichick: You have insulted The New England Patriots with your attempt at capturing the magnificence of our QB.
The Peasant: Please Your Grace, it is haad to capture his beauty. He is truly a man like a flowah.
King Belichick: The hair is too masculine. More Bieber! How many times to I have to say it!
The Peasant: I beg of you your Grace. Be merciful. It is truly an impossible task to capture Brady’s feminine aura in a statute
Duke Kraft: Your Grace, the peasant has a point. This task you have assigned has proven to be an impossible task for nine other sculptors. Do we need to continue to execute each one that fails?
King Belichick: Is there no one in my kingdom that can accomplish this task! (He puts his head into his hands) Very well, spare the life of the peasant. Chop of his hands and set him free.
The Peasant: Thank you your grace. You are truly wicked merciful. I shall tell all the Southies I speak to of your generosity.
King Belichick: Go now! Before I change my mind. I grow bored. What is next?
THE PEASANT IS ESCORTED OUT OF THE AUDITORIUM.
The Commissioner: Your Grace, This is that little matter of the proposed rule changes we discussed. You know two hand touch and that sort of thing.
Duke Kraft: Wait, not yet. We have, em, guests here today. They are Dolphin fans.
The Commissioner: Oh no! It can’t be. They have seen me here with you.
King Belichick: Infiltrators! Kill them immediately!
Duke Kraft: Your Grace, now that they have seen us here with the Commissioner perhaps we should be more diplomatic. We don’t want word of what occurred here today to get out.
King Belichick: Perhaps you are right Duke. Sometimes you manage to do a little more than sign checks. Here, have this Altoid as a reward – its wintergreen.
Duke Kraft: Oh thank you your Grace. You are kind. (Yelling) The King is generous and kind! (The Commissioner and the referees join him yelling) The King is generous and kind!
THE ROYAL GUARD BRINGS PIGGY, COLONPOKEY AND PSYCHIC GPS IN FRONT OF THE KING.
The Commissioner: Welcome (holding his arms and walking towards the three of them). Welcome to the NFL (He kisses each of them on the lips)
The Flying Pig: Yuk. What was that!
Psychic GPS: (electronically spitting) He just kissed us!
Colonpokey: I think I’m in love…
King Belichick: Welcome to my kingdom. So what brings a blind flying pig, a perverted hamster and a psychic GPS to my kingdom?
Psychic GPS: Your grace, we are taking a tour of some of our respected rivals host cities.
The Flying Pig: We just left from that dump inBuffalo and now we came to this…eh…flowery place…
Psychic GPS: (whispering to Piggy) Piggy, be respectful to the King. He has an army of guards and referees with him.
King Belichick: Then we must show the three of you our famous hospitality. Join us for dinner.
Colonpokey: I’m starving!
Psychic GPS: Me too.
KING BELICHICK, THE COMMISSIONER AND DUKE KRAFT GUIDE PIGGY, COLONPOKEY AND THE PSYCHIC GPS INTO A LARGE DINING ROOM. THERE IS A LONG TABLE IN THE ROOM. PIGGY, COLONPOKEY, PSYCHIC GPS, DUKE KRAFT AND THE COMMISIONER SIT ON ONE SIDE AND KING BELICHICK SITS IN THE OTHER END OF THE LONG TABLE, BY HIMSELF.
The Flying Pig: I have to use the bathroom. Where is it?
Duke Kraft: Two doors down to the right.
PIGGY GETS UP FROM THE TABLE AND WALKS INTO A FEW WALLS BEFORE PSYCHIC GPS GIVES HIN EXPLCIT DIRECTIONS TO THE BATHROOM. PIGGY GOES INTO THE BATHROOM AND CLOSES THE DOOR.
Colonpokey: So what is for dinner? I’m starving
Duke Kraft: The King’s favorite. Honey glazed ham.
Psychic GPS: Ham. Are you kidding me? What about Piggy?
Colonpokey: Heehee. Don’t worry. He’s blind. He won’t know a thing. Tell him its lamb or something.
A SERVANT COMES OUT AND PUTS A HONEY GLAZED HAM ON THE TABLE.
Psychic GPS: Well…it does look tasty…
The Flying Pig: (walking out of the bathroom and sitting at the table) What did I miss?
Colonpokey: They are serving leg of lamb…Heehee.
The Flying Pig: Mmmm. I love lamb. I can’t wait to have some.
Psychic GPS: (to Colonpokey) Oh God no…
A SERVANT PUTS A PLATE OF HAM IN FRONT OF EACH OF THEM INCLUDING PIGGY.
The Commissioner: So what do you think of our…er…the Patriots hospitality.
Colonpokey: You guys are the best! (gorging himself on the ham)
The Flying Pig: I have to admit, you have treated us much better than some of the other places we’ve been. (Cutting the ham with his knife)
Psychic GPS: Eh, Piggy, are you sure you are hungry? I have lost my appetite.
The Flying Pig: Are you kidding me. I love lamb. This place is great. It reminds me of home. Something about the smell of this dinner…Ahhh…takes me back to when I was a piglet, when my family and I went to the beach. My Uncle, Old Major, he was so crazy (laughing). He never wore sunscreen. He just sat in the sun and baked. We used to make fun of how sunburned he would get…Ahh…the smells in here…reminds me of Uncle Old Major…I think he lives in this area now. Maybe we should stop by and visit him when we finish here…
Psychic GPS: Oh God. I think I’m going to get sick now.
Duke Kraft: Here in this palace, we treat all our visitors with courtesy and respect…and we videotape them too! So you can go home with a video of your time here.
The Flying Pig: (putting his fork in a slice of ham) Yeah, you guys are such cheaters too.
Duke Kraft: Cheaters….no, no. We love the game. We love to change the rules to…eh…enhance the game…
The Flying Pig: You mean cheat (bringing a slice to ham to his mouth).
Psychic GPS: No Piggy. Don’t do it.
The Flying Pig: Do what? I’m just telling it like it is.
Psychic GPS: That is not what I meant. Don’t bite Piggy. Don’t bite.
The Flying Pig: Sheesh GPS. (taking the ham away from his mouth back to the plate) I didn’t know you had a soft spot for lamb
Duke Kraft: Well Piggy, we will have to agree to disagree. (then under his breath) And the NFL agrees with me of course (winking at the Commissioner)
The Flying Pig: Whatever you say…I think we have seen enough of Foxboro. When we are done with dinner we will be heading to Miami. (bringing the slice of ham back to his mouth and about to bite)
The Commissioner: About that Piggy…eh…you see no reason to mention that you saw me and the referees here do you?
Colonpokey: How much are you guys offering to keep our mouths shut?
The Flying Pig: Colonpokey, they can’t buy this pig off with their corrupt money and their lamb dinners…
Colonpokey: Heehee, lamb…heehee. Piggy this is a prime opportunity for blackmail. I am a hamster of principal. I can’t pass up that opportunity.
The Flying Pig: I don’t care what you do to these jerks Colonpokey. I’m not going to lie for them. I just want to tease them a little tonight while we are here. (Putting the slice of ham down on the plate)
Psychic GPS: Oh thank God.
The Flying Pig: See Psychic GPS does too
Psychic GPS: No not that Piggy, the food Piggy, the food. I thought you were going to eat it.
The Flying Pig: This lamb? (Bringing the ham back to his mouth)
The Commissioner: Piggy. It would be wise to keep silent about what you saw here tonight. Can you pass me some wine?
The Flying Pig: (putting the ham back down on the plate and grabbing a ceramic jug of wine) Sure. Get ready Commish!
PIGGY PASSES THE WINE FORWARD TO THE COMMISIONER WHO REACHES OUT TO GRAB IT, THEN PIGGY PULLS IT BACK, THEN HE REACHES IT FORWARD AGAIN, THEN HE PULLS IT BACK. THEN THE CERAMIC JUG FALLS OUT OF PIGGY’S TROTTERS BUT PIGGY PUSHES IT FORWARD AS IT FALLS AND SPILLS THE WINE ALL OVER THE COMMISSIONER’S LAP.
The Commissioner: Piggy! You fumbled the wine all over my lap!
The Flying Pig: That is incorrect Commish. It was an incomplete pass. TUCK RULE bitches!
The Commissioner: Very funny Piggy….
Colonpokey: This meal is delicious! Thank you your gracefulness, for this perfect meal.
King Belichick: Thank you hamster. I admit. It is a perfect meal.
The Flying Pig: Perfect! No, not quite perfect
King Belichick: (slamming his knife on the table) What do you mean not quite perfect?
The Flying Pig: I mean it’s just short of perfection, like other things in New England…
King Belichick: Your insolence is treading on dangerous territory Pig. Eat your ham and be done with it!
The Flying Pig: Ham?
Psychic GPS: Eh, I meant to tell you earlier Piggy, that’s not lamb…it’s ham…its actually pretty tasty
The Flying Pig: Uncle Old Major! You bastards!
PIGGY JUMPS ON THE TABLE WITH HIS KNIFE AND RUNS DOWN TOWARDS THE KING PUTTING THE KNIFE AT THE KING’S THROAT.
The Flying Pig: You listen to me King! There is only one perfect team in history. The 72 Dolphins! Got that! The regular season doesn’t count, especially after changing all the rules of the game to get an edge
TWO ROYAL GUARDS GRAB PIGGY AND PULL HIM AWAY FROM THE KING.
King Belichick: We were undefeated in the regular season! The only team to win 16 games in the regular season!
The Flying Pig: But you lost in the Super Bowl (laughing) not quite perfect! Like I said…
King Belichick: Enough! You and your friends will pay for your crimes in my Kingdom! I sentence this Pig to slow roasting
The Flying Pig: Nooooooo!
King Belichick: This Pig shall roast whole slowly for 6 hours over a fire spit and we shall dine on him when he is fully cooked.
King Belichick: And we shall serve him with roasted vegetables smothered in the pig drippings.
Duke Kraft: And those little potato things your Grace?
King Belichick: And the little potato things too, smothered in the pig drippings, with whole onions and butter and garlic and a little bit of rosemary, because I know how much the Duke likes it that way.
Duke Kraft: The King is kind and generous!
King Belichick: And the spit will be covered in hickory wood so we get a little smoky flavor in our pig.
Colonpokey: You sound delicious Piggy!
Psychic GPS: It was nice knowing you Piggy…
King Belichick: And the Pig shall be served on a plate made of the remains of the GPS after we smash it!
Psychic GPS: Electronic gulp!
The Commissioner: And the hamster your Grace?
Colonpokey: Let him go!
King Belichick: Oh yes, the hamster…the hamster…let’s see. I don’t want to eat the hamster…hmmm…got it…and the hamster shall be sentenced to a worse fate than the rest.
The Flying Pig: hah hah! Sucks for you Colonpokey.
King Belichick: The Hamster shall be given to the cheerleading squad to live out his remaining days as their pet.
The Flying Pig: What? That is a worse fate than being roasted?
King Belichick: Every day the rest of his life will be a struggle for the hamster as he is forced to deal with cheerleaders who compete for his affection. His hair shall become frazzled from the constant petting. His hands shall have the stench of coconut oil, after applying sun tan lotion to their bodies’ everyday.
Colonpokey: (sarcastically) Oh no, not that…Heehee.
King Belichick: (pointing out Colonpokey) Every moment of the rest of your life shall be spent dining, sleeping and showering with the cheerleaders, sometimes two at a time!
Psychic GPS: What? That is totally unfair. He gets to sleep and shower with cheerleaders and I get made into a plate?
The Flying Pig: I hope you choke on my sausage you bastard! (whispering to GPS) I always wanted to say that to some one!
Psychic GPS: Wait Your Grace, we may be of service to you…
King Belichick: You? Service? Don’t be ridiculous…Your fate is sealed.
Psychic GPS: You need a statute of your great QB….Piggy can make you that statute. He has a clumsy mouth but is a gifted sculptor.
King Belichick: This blind pig! He cannot capture the essence of Tom Brady. He cannot sculpt his eyes – eyes like kisses in the sky. He cannot sculpt his arms – arms powerful to throw across football fields. He cannot capture his thighs – milky yet powerful…He cannot capture my QB’s beauty!
The Flying Pig: Sheesh…settle down Sandusky.
Psychic GPS: If anyone can capture Tom Brady in a statute – it is Piggy.
King Belichick: A blind pig?
Psychic GPS: Yes. A blind Pig! What he cannot see, he can make up for with his touch. Look at his trotters your highness.
Duke Kraft: Your Grace, they do say that the blind have enhanced senses…
King Belichick: Oh, very well…but the Pig and his friends shall be locked in the sky tower prison until they complete the statute. And if the statute is not satisfactory then we shall feast (maniacal laugh) we shall feast! Take the Piggy and his friends to the sky tower prison.
Duke Kraft: But your grace, he has wings, and the tower has open windows. He can just fly away.
King Belichick: (laughing) this fat little pig can’t fly! If he tries to fly out of those windows he well fall 500 feet to his death.
The Flying Pig: I’m not fat. It’s just a little holiday weight.
Psychic GPS: It’s July Piggy…
King Belichick: Take them to the cell and leave the pig a pile of clay to work with.
Colonpokey: All right. I’m ready for the cheerleaders now.
King Belichick: Oh no no, that was just the punishment. We’ve spared you, now that you are making a statute. You are going to the prison cell with your friends.
Colonpokey: Spared me! Nooooooo! I want the cheerleaders! (being dragged away) Cook the pig! Pork is delicious! Pork is delicious!