Music plays through Charlie Weis’ headphones in his office. Game footage rolls in the darkened room. Feathery images of players move forward, rewind, and then move forward as the large man examines the the play from every angle.

Weis: This music…I just don’t understand it. I need to understand it, though, to get at my players. If only there were someone who could help me get more emotion out of my players, and help me understand the soul of this…music…

[A GREAT RUMBLING OF BASS AND MUCH SHAKING]

Marky M: YeaaaAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!

And it’s one, two, three and to the four!
Fuck your brick wall, Marky M don’t need the door.

Bustin em down like I got the Kool-Aid
Don’t need the sunblock cause I make my own shade

If ya act real nice then I’ll bring back the sun
If not, keep you in the dark like my name was Jame Gumb

Marky M’s here to show you how to stack the dough
Marky M’s bout to show you how to freak the flow

See you rockin’ sissy silk on them ND shades
Your shit is old and wack like a cheap tight fade

Get the keys to the Honda but you think it’s a Bentley
Leavin’ weakass game like your name was Dirk Gently

You want confessions Charlie then I’ll give you mine
I start my day at fresh and fly past nine
I tip the scales at like 409
The sun hates on me ’cause of the way I shine

You bring your crew, Todd Reesing gonna stretch him out
He’s 5′4″ but his jimmy like a waterspout
My whole crew steal your girls make your boys pout
Take ‘em backstage and bang their damn weaves out

I’m the fat lawya got them asses shakin’
I’m the fat lawya hustlin’, bringin’ the bacon
I’m the fat lawya down at Carnivale
Bring me ten fat asses and I’ll baste ‘em all

Think about it–fuck ‘em, let em pray
Down here the girls fuck a wide body every day
Down here this wide body’s workin’ gettin’ em laid
And when they ass walk the streets this wide body get paid

YEAAAAHHHH!!!!

Even street acrobats got my back, lawya!

You wanna understand hip-hop, Charlie? STREET ACROBATS, LAWYA.

Get paid, get laid, make shade.

Marky M done ragged this bitch to the timbers.

We out.

Snickers!

Charlie Weis: SOMEONE FIX THIS GODDAMN WALL!!! GET ME A GOLF CART, DAMMIT!!!!