Look! Up In The Sky!! Run for your LIVES!!!
The Same ol' JETS ARE COMING!
Foxborough; Boston; Massachusetts; New England; The North East; Western Civilization.....They were all ready, and in position, just like last time in Week 13.
And just like last time, superior leadership was supposed to rule the day...Again. But, Failure to Prepare is Preparing to Fail; - And so it is that Patriot One is the ultimate task Master and is famous for always having his Modern Day Minutemen in the highest states of preparedness.
Simon Bar Sinister prepared his men to inflict the same kind of 15 to 1 casualty rates (45-3 blow-out) that devastated their opponent and had them bleeding GREEN in the aftermath of the most recent failed attempt to blot out Patriot skies. A tattered and battered JETS Squadron barely made it back to WOODY A.F. Base.
Once again, the Minute Men were ready.....But this time, for Rex's Revenge.
But, the element of surprise was gone. Patriot Intel picked-up and heard every transmission emanating out of New York City (and their big mouths). New England knew exactly when they'd be arriving down to the day; hour; and minute.
Patriot One; the Master Planner, assured everyone, Foxborough would remain as safe as it always was. Many a foe have tried to break the Walls of Foxborough, and failed. Most, if not all denizens of Massachusetts felt secure in the thought this was to be the latest attempt that would fall short of it's mission. His men, companions and fans alike, all felt and fed off the rock-hard confidence of their stoic leader. So, with all his pieces in place, plans and details checked..., re-checked, and morale high, the leader of Patriot Force ordered radio silence, then shut-off the lights to the city, and waited. The trap was set. Soon, the
Shortly after dusk, the calm of the early night was broken. The first faint rumble of approaching JETS could be heard far off in the distance. "Steady!"...ordered Patriot One.
The rumbling in the sky intensified; louder. Then... A Slip and a Blip!
Wes Welker keyed a mike! Oh My! He broke Patriot One's direct order and their positions had no doubt been compromised at that moment because of it. "SILENCE!" Patriot One ordered again.
Everything remained still on the ground as the skies started to thunder overhead. From the darkness above, fortune cookie sized notes attached to little Green parachutes began to rain down on Foxborough.
Every little GREEN parachute dropped the same message for everybody on the field, in the stands and Sports Bars across New England. It said:
"Eat Me!" - with Love, Caring and Affection ~ Coach REX BLUTARSKY.
With his positions revealed and now having to play his hand, Patriot One ordered the search lights on and pointed skyward. Foxborough collectively screamed with horror as they caught sight of what was headed their way. Directly over head, and where ever they pointed a light; - for as far as New Englanders could or could not see in the Massachusetts Night, there was wave after wave and formation upon formation of NEW Fearsome, Hulking, Angry-looking, belching, Big GREEN Bombers, retro-fitted and re-armed with a Smarter Plan, Renewed Confidence, Intelligent Brutality, and Destiny seemingly on their side. Eeek!
Frightened, terrified, and in a panic, the fans inside Foxborough made furious scrambles towards all exits and into the parking lots, tripping over eachother trying to get back to the shelter of their homes. Most of them deserted their team and left them to get bombarded alone. Sports Bars furiously got patrons and fans to help board-up windows and doors.
Meanwhile..., Up Above:
REX ~ Iron Bird...this is Big GREEN. I got a Blip. You're free to commence Operation Foot Stomp on your mark. It's time to squash some bugs.
SCHOTTY ~ Roger that GREEN ~ TiTan One this is Iron Bird, come in TiTan One...over.
SANCHEZ ~ TiTan One...over.
SCHOTTY ~ Operation Foot Stomp is a Go. Squash Bugs; I repeat, Squash Bugs is Go.
SANCHEZ ~ Wilco..Foot Stomp. All TITANS....TiTan One; IT'S GO TIME!! On My MARK!
And with that folks, the payload doors opened and REX dropped a game plan Bill Belichick was thoroughly unprepared to defend against. The JETS Defense blew up the Patriots Offensive Line and the line of scrimmage, to include the Pats' running game, and Tom Brady's entire game. Five sacks hit their intended target. Mark Sanchez launched lethal strike after lethal strike against the Patriots' Secondary with nearly 65% accuracy, highlighted by three crushing precision hits that went for touchdowns. An interception, a respectable running game and some very remarkable Receiver work with huge catches and romping Y-A-Cs (see Braylon Edwards) were all part of the Weapons-of-Pats-Destruction used against New England.
SANCHEZ ~ Iron Bird, this is TiTan One; if it wiggled, we got it. Clean-up on isle nine. We have a Condition GREEN. Over.
SCHOTTY ~ Roger, TiTan One. Good job. Return to base. Big GREEN; Iron Bird One....the message has been delivered. We're headed home.
REX ~ This is Big GREEN, Copy that! They're keeping dinner warm for you at the Hanger. Out.
REX ~ POUND 1; GROUND 6 ~ Sit-Rep...Over! Talk to Daddy.
S.ELLIS ~ GROUND 6...Blue Sideline secured sir!
S.GREENE ~ POUND 1 here....The Flag is in the Ground. The field is ours. Small pack of Patriots headed toward open end of Stadium.
REX ~ Let 'em go Boys. Today is their lucky day. Great work; Smoke 'em if you got 'em! See you back home. Big Daddy out.
...And then, they were gone; headed back to Delta House. What they left behind was payback for revoking their charter; taking the bar, and all the stuff they didn't steal BUT MOST of all, for the beating in the Motel Room.
Back at Foxborough, the next morning was too soon. Confidence that usually accompanies sunrise after an evening of devastation and destruction, stayed hidden in a closet or underneath a bed, shaking through-out the day. Over twenty four hours have passed, and the denizens of Massachusetts and greater New England are only now starting to peek out from behind their shuttered windows; barricaded doors; fortified Man-Caves; and boarded-up Sports Pubs. They waited a full day plus, to walk out in the open and survey the damage of Sunday night's N.Y. JETS raid.
For Simon Bar Sinister; a.k.a. - Patriot One - Bill Belichick, and his young team of Minute Men, it's back to the Lab to keep working on the reconfiguration of the Patriots. For them, this rebuilding season was thrown off track by a Division Title. And whether you want to hear it in the midst of a celebratory time for Jets fans or not, Bill Belichick will take all those draft picks he accumulated by trading away solid veteran starters and build himself a new dynasty for Tom Brady to end his career with. He'll be back, just like the JETS came back. The Patriots' season was all about Belichick getting every last spoon-full out of his New England bowl of young Chowdah' Heads. But this was all they had left and it wasn't enough. After playing three games against each other, once and for all, the Jets clearly showed they had more and were the better team of the two. Nuff' Ced!
Coach Rex didn't just win the day like he said he would. He wrecked it, piled the rubble high and plopped a big N.Y. JETS flag on it. And so, in the Battles of the PIGSKIN Wars, to the Victor, the Spoils.
Back at the Hangar, everybody made it back home safe. The Victory Party was in full swing. Mrs. Blutarsky was there to greet her Big GREEN Hero with a giant hug and a bigger victory kiss. They, and all the fly-boys, ground crews, coordinators, players, Woody and their Best Gals, clicked their heals, put their best foot foward and danced, drank and Drifted the Night Away.
What's between Rex and his wife, is between Rex and his Wife! Who's laughing now?
Roger That! Mission accomplished. Out.