themightymjd.com is happy to bring you a series of previews for some of the bullshit college football bowl games coming up. You may find yourself in the position of not knowing a lot of some of the teams involved, and that’s okay. I don’t either. But that won’t stop me from making up things that, if you can manage to convince yourself are true, would certainly pique your interest in these games. And again, I should probably point out that none of this is factual. 100% made up. Probably.

East Carolina running back Chris Johnson has been South Florida wide receiver Ean Randolph’s best friend since grade school. The two grew up playing together in the midget leagues of Dade County, Florida, and went to the same high school. Johnson was even seat to be the best man at Ean’s wedding before Ean got cold feet at the last second, lied and told the preacher he was gay, laughed nervously, and ran as fast as he could from the chapel. Now Ean thinks that there’s a decent chance that he actually is gay, but he isn’t sure. The two shared a phone call recently in advance of the East Carolina vs. South Florida showdown in the PAPAJOHNS.com bowl.

Ean Randolph: What’s up, boy? You ready for this on Saturday?
Chris Johnson: Shit, I’m ready. I been ready to whoop yo’ ass since you stole my girlfriend in the 7th grade.
Ean Randolph: Hahaha! Man, you don’t forget nothin’. Believe me, though, dog, I didn’t really like her.
Chris Johnson: I’m just playin’, man. It’s cool.
Ean Randolph: No no no. I’m tryin’ to make it clear to you that I really didn’t like her. Like… not at all, man. Not even a little bit.
Chris Johnson: It was 7th grade, man. I ain’t sweatin’ that. Relax.
Ean Randolph: Okay. I’m cool. (Ean takes a deep breath.)
Chris Johnson: So, did you get this gift package from the Papa John’s people?
Ean Randolph: Yeah, I got mine.
Chris Johnson: Me too… and this is some BULLSHIT, man.
Ean Randolph: For real, dog. Best thing in there’s a digital camera … and that thing only got three megapixels. I can’t print no 5-by-7s on no three megapixel bullshit.
Chris Johnson: This thing’s beat. How the hell we gonna be in the Papa John’s bowl, and we ain’t get no pizza?
Ean Randolph: I’m hungry, too. They got some Superman shit goin’ on there, too.
Chris Johnson: Oh yeah?
Ean Randolph: Man, I heard them suckas in the Insight Bowl get an Xbox 360. Texas Tech ain’t even that good, man.
Ean Randolph: We gettin’ screwed on this deal.
Chris Johnson: Man, my brother plays for Oregon. He got some Pioneer navigation system.
Ean Randolph: Really?
Chris Johnson: Yeah, they hooked him up good. He had to wear that ugly greenish snot helmet, though.
Ean Randolph: Where’s your brother now?
Chris Johnson: He’s here, man. He came to see me before the game.
Ean Randolph: He got that navigation joint on him?
Chris Johnson: I think so. Why?
Ean Randolph: I want it.
Chris Johnson: He might sell it to you. I don’t know.
Ean Randolph: That ain’t what I’m sayin’.
Chris Johnson: What? You gonna steal it?
Ean Randolph: Oh, I’mma steal it. And you gonna help me.
Chris Johnson: I ain’t helpin’ you steal shit from my brother, man. You lost your damn mind.
Ean Randolph: Listen, man. You help me steal that Pioneer navigation joint, and I’ll drop three passes in the bowl game. Guaranteed. Three passes dropped. And if I score a touchdown, I’ll jack you off. Guaranteed.
Chris Johnson: You serious? Wait, what?
Ean Randolph: Three dropped passes, man.
Chris Johnson: You didn’t say nothin’ else?
Ean Randolph: Nope.
Chris Johnson: (laughs) Alright, man. You got a deal.

Randolph drives across town in a 1992 Buick Skylark which he has just stolen from his hotel parking lot. Within then minutes, he meets Chris in the lobby of Chris’s hotel, and they take the elevator back up to Chris’s 14th-floor suite. His brother Jeremiah is asleep on the couch. They begin whispering to each other.

Chris Johnson: There it is, man. All the free bowl game shit’s in that basket over there.
Ean Randolph: Oh, snap! He got a subscription to ESPN The Magazine, too? I’mma get that, too.
Chris Johnson: Dog, we got one of those in our baskets. You don’t need to take that one.
Ean Randolph: I need two, man. I love Jim Caple. You don’t even know how much I love Jim Caple.
Chris Johnson: Just hurry up, man. He gonna wake up, soon.
Ean Randolph: If he wakes up, I’mma kill him. (Ean pulls a Glock 23 from his waistband.)
Chris Johnson: What the hell… man, quit playin’. You ain’t gonna kill nobody. (Ean’s eyes are fixed on Jeremiah on the couch, his mouth slightly open, he steps closer to him.)
Ean Randolph: Man, he cute, too.
Chris Johnson: WHAT?
Ean Randolph: Nothin’, nothin’. Listen, I’mma gank that whole gift basket, and I’mma get out of here. I’ll catch you later, boy. You wanna go get some waffles?
Chris Johnson: What? No, I’m not gettin’ no waffles with you. Just get outta here, man, this whole deal is off. You crazy, man. Just get out.

Jeremiah rubs his eyes and begins to stir on the couch.

Chris Johnson: (whispering in Ean’s ear) Put that god damn gun away.
Jeremiah Johnson: Chris, what’s goin’ on? Ean? What are you doin’ here?
Ean Randolph: What up, boy? Yeah, it’s good to see you, man. Come on, man, let’s go get some waffles.
Jeremiah Johnson: Why are you holdin’ a gun?
Ean Randolph: Oh, I was gonna steal all yo’ shit. Yeah. But you awake now, it’s cool, we can talk about that later. Let’s get some waffles.
Jeremiah Johnson: (blank stare)
Chris Johnson: (sighs heavily)
Ean Randolph: What? Y’all don’t like waffles? Listen, Chris, man… maybe them three dropped passes wasn’t enough. I feel you on that. So what if I just go tonight and kill our quarterback? I’ll shoot Matt Grothe in the face tonight, no joke.
Chris Johnson: I don’t… I don’t understand what’s happening here.
Ean Randolph: No? Alright, I’ll tell you what. I’ll kill Grothe, get you a copy of our playbook, suck your brother off, and I’ll kill that live bull we have runnin’ out the tunnel before games, and then barbecue him for you later. And that’s just for the ESPN The Magazine subscription. Sound good?
Chris Johnson: (as he’s involuntarily urinating on the floor) Uh… you know what… let’s, um… let’s go get those waffles, man. Come on, let’s go.
Ean Randolph: YEAH. Waffles, baby. Here I COME. I love waffles like I love Jim Caple.

Ean Randolph put his weapon away and left the hotel room, at which point Chris Johnson locked the door behind him and called 911.

Ean Randolph: (yelling from the other side of the door) Yo, you comin’, man? Listen, I’ll see you there, I’m gettin’ kinda hungry. I promise you Grothe’s dead, though. I’mma take off. (singing as he walks away, to the tune of “O Christmas Tree) Oh, Waffles bitch, Oh, Waffles bitch… Oh Waffles bitch, oh waffles, bitch…

themightymjd.com is happy to bring you a series of previews for some of the bullshit college football bowl games coming up. You may find yourself in the position of not knowing a lot of some of the teams involved, and that’s okay. I don’t either. But that won’t stop me from making up things that, if you can manage to convince yourself are true, would certainly pique your interest in these games. And again, I should probably point out that none of this is factual. 100% made up. Probably.

Today, we look ahead to Monday’s San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl.

Northern Illinois’ regular quarterback, Phil Horvath, will be sitting out the prestigious San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl with a “season-ending injury.” Most people don’t know that his injury was suffered at the hands of his backup, Dan Nicholson. It wasn’t one of those crazy punter situations where one guy stabbed another guy because he wanted to boot low 35-yard punts … it was something far more disturbing. The following conversation took place:

Nicholson: It’s pretty cool that we’re going to a bowl game.
Horvath: I guess, man.
Nicholson: What do you mean, you guess? Aren’t you excited?
Horvath: Kinda. But it’s just the San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl. That sounds so lame.
Nicholson: What’s wrong with that?
Horvath: Nothing, it’s just … you know, the other bowl games have sponsors like Tostitos or FedEx or Nokia. National companies that people have heard of. Ours is a goddamn county credit union, right? (laughs)
Nicholson: What’s your problem with credit unions? You too good for a credit union, golden boy?
Horvath: What? No, man. Just take it easy. What’s your problem?
Nicholson: I’ll tell you my goddamn problem, dickweed. My mother worked at a credit union for 37 years. She gave her soul to the company. For decades, she handled money that she could never dream of, handed to her by people like you and your rich prick parents, for $8 an hour and a half-hour lunch break. I don’t think, jackass, that there is A DAMN THING WRONG WITH CREDIT UNIONS.
Horvath: Listen, I’m sorry, man. I was just talking out of my ass. I didn’t mean anything by–
Nicholson: I’M NOT DONE, DICKFACE. It was on her deathbed that she told me that working at the credit union was the best thing that ever happened to her. She met her husband there. She made friends there. Many of the most significant moments of her life were spent there. For Christ’s sake, Horvath, I was conceived in a credit union. My mother is buried RIGHT NOW underneath a credit union in the Chicago suburbs. You wanna go dig her up and piss on her rotting carcass? Do you, Horvath, you son of a bitch?
Horvath: Listen, I’m really sorry, man.
Nicholson: Oh, you’re sorry. Well, let me tell you something, Whore-vath. You think you’re all high and mighty and slick, but where the hell do you think you’d be without credit unions? Do you even know? Do you even know the hell that the world would be without credit unions? Do you know that credit unions care about the community? Do you know that they’re full-service financial institutions? Do you know that CREDIT UNION DEPOSITS ARE ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT GUARANTEED? DO YOU KNOW THAT YOU CAN TAKE YOUR LOW-RETURN CDs AND JAM THEM STRAIGHT UP YOUR ASSHOLE? HUH, MOTHERF–?
Horvath: Stop! Just leave me alone, man. I like credit unio–
Nicholson: Oh, YOU WANNA GO? YOU WANNA GO, FRAT BOY? COME GET A PIECE OF THIS, YOU NAPERVILLE PUSSY.
Horvath: I think I’m just gonna leave.

It was then that Nicholson knocked Horvath down and grabbed the Northern Illinois mascot–a live Husky dog–and held it over Horvath’s face for 23 minutes, asphyxiating him. Horvath lost consciousness, his right lung collapsed, and Nicholson filled his locker with 114 live cobras. No one has discovered this yet.

The San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl is Tuesday night, December the 19th, on ESPN2.