President Bruce Allen walks into a large, opulent boardroom and sits down. There are maybe thirty men there in nearly identical grey suits, all part of the Redskins organization. There is a painful silence and then spontaneously a low level executive starts to cry.
Senior Vice President Tony Wyllie pats Personnel Executive Doug Williams on the back.
Tony: We’ll get through this. Remember his vision is based on movement, like a T-rex. Just stay still and stay quiet and it’s not so bad. I have a mantra I like to repeat in my head during these meetings, ‘the check clears, the check clears.’
Williams: Every meeting someone asks me what’s it’s like to be a black executive. Every meeting.
Tony (laughs): So what’s it like?
Doug: I hate you.
A business Vice President looks distantly out of the window. Outside, there was a tree-lined creek, but the trees were cut down to preserve the view. Instead a sanitarium was built for former Redskins executives. In the distance, an executive was tearfully defending letting Ryan Clark go.
Old Man: Winter is coming.
Chairman Robert Rothman: Does anyone know who this guy is?
President Bruce Allen: Listen up! Dan is coming guys. For those of you that don’t know, if he’s stroking a white cat, he’s in a good mood and if he’s stroking a black cat he’s in a bad mood.
A.J. Smith: Bruce I’ve never seen him with a white cat.
Bruce Allen: Yeah, me either. I made up that part.
Dan Snyder enters the room. Inexplicably, there is a fog about knee height that permeates the room briefly. Snyder is wearing a Magneto helmet which he takes off and places on the boardroom table.
Dan Snyder (grimly): Keeps the government from reading my thoughts. But we’re safe in here.
He points to the ceiling. There is a bass relief of Joe Gibbs that spans the room.
Dan Snyder (cont’d): Three feet of asbestos right there.
Rothman: Oh God.
Snyder turns his gaze to Marketing Director Mitch Gershman.
Snyder: This Twitter thing is a disaster, Mitch. We were supposed to get people behind the Redskins name, we were supposed to flood Harry Reid’s office and let those liberals know that only a large group of rich white men really know what’s offensive to Native Americans, and somehow the whole thing went wrong.
Rothman: What’s Twitter?
Gershman: I think its hackers sir. Roughly five people and they keep changing user names and accounts and making different comments so that it looks like 50,000 different people think that our position is indefensible. I genuinely believe it’s only a small pocket of resistance and that most people genuinely want a football team named after the color of a minority’s skin. I mean, every league has a team like that.
Snyder: That sounds reasonable.
Co-owner Dwight Schar: I think it continues the proud American tradition of slaughtering Native Americans and running them off of their land and then naming things after them. I live in Mclean Virginia and I can’t tell you how many joyful hours I’ve spent with my children at Scalp-a-Frenchman-Park.
Bruce Allen notices A.J. Smith furiously working on his tablet.
Allen: A.J. are you taking notes?
A.J. Smith: Just working on some roster stuff while we get started. I’m thinking we trade RGIII, Alfred Morris and Trent Williams to the Browns for Josh Gordon, and then we re-negotiate DeSean Jackson’s contract so he can make Mike Wallace money. We trade away five years of first day draft picks to get Brandon Weeden from the Cowboys, we change our scheme to completely ignore Pierre Garcon, and we pick up Richie Incognito to replace Williams. I’ve been working the phone to get Ray Rhodes out of retirement to run our defense. What do you think?
Allen: Brilliant. That’s that Kentucky education right there.
A.J. Smith: I knew I had a gift when I graduated at the top of my horse shoeing class.
Snyder: I’ve been thinking gentlemen. Perhaps we should at least think about rebranding the team. I’ve come up with some ideas.
He pulls out a piece of paper, with uneven crayon writing on it.
Allen: Brilliant sir!
Snyder: I haven’t said anything yet.
Allen: I have so much confidence in you, I’m sure that it will be brilliant. I am literally trembling with anticipation right now. Well, anticipation and a strange reaction caused by Ambien, allergy medication and deep shame.
Snyder: First we raise prices on tickets, parking and concessions.
Rothman: Of course.
Schar: If God didn’t want them to be sheared, he wouldn’t have made them sheep.
Snyder: We need to be ahead of the culture curve. I was at a Mandingo fight with Donald Sterling and he was telling me that more and more young people are actually co-habitating with colored people as opposed to simply exploiting them for sex and then avoiding them in public.
Schar: How is your stable doing, Daniel?
Snyder: Everyone has come down with flu this season. Really thought this was going to be the year for my team. Next year in the draft, I’m really going to look at Mandingos with healthier immune systems, we’re just not scouting that stuff.
He writes ‘Washington Mandingos’ in crayon on the paper underneath the list of other names and then looks at it.
Snyder: So because of increasingly popular race traitorship, I was thinking about calling ourselves the Washington Mudsharks.
Doug Williams immediately takes a drink of water so he can spit it out. Snyder’s eyes dart around as he tries to figure out where the noise came from.
Wyllie: Don’t. Move.
Rothman: What’s a Mudshark? And what’s Twitter?
Gershman: A Mudshark is a plus-sized white woman that prefers to date Negro men.
Williams: Any woman over 100lbs is considered plus-sized anymore. It’s crazy. Do you know how many blogs think that Kate Upton is fat?
Schar: Who said that?
Wyllie: Doug, what are you doing? Its suicide!
Williams: I can take a lot of things, but I will not stand quiet while fat guys on the Internet and flabby old rich guys set unreasonable standards for young girls.
Wyllie applies a secret nerve hold and Williams slumps into unconsciousness.
Gershman: The promotions alone make it worth it. Black and white milkshakes. Rib night. One winner each game gets their child support paid. A year’s worth of Spanx.
President of Business Operations Dennis Greene shakes his head.
Greene: The actuaries won’t like that child custody promotion. Could be pricey. Everyone knows that Negros don’t take care of their kids.
Wyllie: Okay, the CDC just published a study that shows that black fathers are more involved with their children than ANY other fathers, even when they don’t live with their family.
Oh man, you sucked me in.
The check clears. The check clears.
Vice President: Naming the team the Mudsharks is a terrible idea.
The room goes dead silent. A laser sight appears on the young VP’s lapel and somewhere in the legal department an attorney prepares a case. Snyder’s look would kill an ordinary man, and the Vice President desperately starts to think of a lie.
Snyder (intensely): Why?
There is a terrible pause.
Vice President: Because-
Snyder has not blinked for a solid minute.
Vice President: Because-
Schar: Spit it out son.
Vice President: Because I believe it’s already copyrighted by a roller derby team in Iowa. I don’t think it’s worth the litigation, sir.
Schar: Good point.
Snyder: That’s fine, I’ve got plenty of ideas that I stole from homeless people without proper attribution. You know how there’s a football team called the fighting Irish, and it’s a drunken leprechaun in a green suit with its fists out and NO ONE is offended about that. I want to build on that.
What about the Genetically Inferior Frenchmen, or GIF?
Schar: I’m sorry, what?
Snyder: When you look at history the French had a Hundred Years War, then World War One, then World War Two, then Vietnam. So in a hundred and fifty years or so, all the Frenchmen that were healthy enough to qualify for the military have already been killed. All the men left were genetically inferior, the product of generations of cripples, madmen, pastry chefs and mimes that produced a country that exports men that look like Vincent Cassel.
Gershman: We could have fans bring croissants and throw them on the field at the other team. People will pay plenty for croissants.
Unseen to everyone else, Williams has woken up, and has creeped over the fire alarm which he pulls, setting off the sprinklers. No one moves as they look at Snyder, who puts on his Magneto helmet. He realizes that Williams is there for the first time.
Snyder: Doug! You made it! Hey, what’s it like to be a black executive?