For Part 1 of our regular season recap, I asked the Commish to join me for an exchange of pleasantries. What follows is (not) without edit. Enjoy.
AH: I want to get a little of your written comedy involved, this week. While I’ve been generally pleased with my entries, yours were (almost) always gold. Bring some of that back for this.
JE: Before I entertain your cry for help, I’m gonna need you to call me Papi at least one more time.
Jon Papi, man of many names: Commissioner, Commish, Andre Fortehands, Numero Un, Colluder, Papi (Editor’s Note: I don’t remember typing this…odd), Former Champion, All-Around Jackass. Welcome back to the blog. The plan was to Make Blog Great Again, so here’s hoping your written humor is more stable than your team. Starting off 3-1 is no poor showing. What were you thinking about your chances this year, going into week 5?
JE: TBH, I’d already started browsing for which fine Scotch was worthy of filling my Champion’s decanter. Not only had I just pants’d Joel in Week 4, but then I turned back around and table-topped him by swiping Gronk and Golden Tate for two players he’d drop within a month. What an idiot that guy is. (EN: Irony is a bitch)
AH: After losing handedly to the Hands Off Catch, you reeled off another two straight wins. 5-2, sitting at 2nd place on the leaderboards. Frankly, I considered you my top competition, given the god-awful showing by everyone else. Then you lost to Mr. Rodgers, the first time the consciousness objector ever involved himself in a good ol’ foreign ass-whooping. At that point, I thought it was no big deal, going so far as to predict both would be in the playoffs. Which of you is currently in the playoffs? If both, I was right. If neither, clearly I’m out of my league. If only one, is it the one your expected it to be?
JE: If you’re asking me if I read the blog in a week after I lost, that’s gonna be a no for me dawg. If you did predict that was going to make the playoffs, 1) you damn well should have and 2) please keep your stink off my team in future blogs please. They smell enough like rotten sewage as it is right now.
AH: You’re sitting in a decent place in the Toilet Bowl. What do you attribute to landing there?
JE: Gravity mostly. Any turd dropped from such a high is bound to come streaking back down to Earth. But also karma. I prepped for a week to pull off the sickest of burns when Jack continued to turn down my trade requests for Devonta Freeman. The execution was flawless as he will surely attest to, but little did I know that it would be me who ended up so severely toasted.
AH: El Turn Down f or Watto is up next in the sights of the Uns. Similar to the actual DPRK, your team is starving for a win. Any chance of a nuclear option to win this round?
JE: Oh you mean I’m playing the guy who traded FOR Jamaal Charles, has his 3rd highest scoring player on a bye, and can’t properly operate a space bar when typing a three letter proposition? In that case, go ahead and chalk up my 6th straight L. See ya soon, Frazer.
AH: If you end up being the winner of the less-than-coveted Cody Poarch Trophy, what’s your hot, steaming take on the Toilet Bowl punishment this year? What would you have done differently as a punishment? Are you even remotely worried about losing, knowing full well that this is hands down the least-awful punishment ever?
JE: I’m a fan. Not in the sense that I have any plans to be picking up used condoms and Four Loko cans off the side of 321, but in the sense that I think we’re headed down the right path of public humiliation. I’m actually fearful of what next year’s punishment might be should you come out on top. I’ve seen what happens when bullied younger brothers get too much power for their own good, and don’t wish a similar fate upon this league. (EN: I pictured Nick sitting on Jon’s head after a healthy helping of Taco Bell chalupas, and if that hasn’t happened, Nick, get on it.)
AH: What would you say the shape of the blog is, now that you’ve turned over the reigns to one clearly more capable?
JE: Do me a favor and insert whatever meme kids are using these days to say “go fuck yourself.” You beg me to help make this blog great again and then expect me to have to listen to this shit? What’s next, you’re gonna ask me how it feels to watch you make stiff, sweaty love on my old championship throne?
AH: Before this next question, I’m going to need you to assume the position. I’ve provided a mat, as I’d hate for you to scrape your knees. Now then…what’s it like knowing that the once flaming ginger balls, the big time timmy jims, the 3 time last place finisher, now sits on a regular season throne that you once laid a claim to?
JE: You are one cold sonofabitch. I’ll have you know, that last time I handed over money to a Haney for a job well done, your mother did dirty, dirty things to earn it. (EN: the brownies were delicious, if a bit crumbly, I’ll admit)
AH: Thanks for joining, my friend. Here’s looking forward to our next group outing.
JE: Same to you, sport! Hope you see you soon!