The offices of the West Virginia Football program, last night, December 13th, 2010. Athletic Director Oliver Luck approaches Bill Stewart, who is marking off the lines of the football field with spray paint.
Oliver: Bill, would you come over here...you know you don't have to do that.
Bill Stewart: Just a second, Oliver. Gotta finish up the sideline here. My, isn't it a beautiful day at Milan Puskar Field! The brisk winter air, the West Virginia sunshine, the grass lookin' so green besides the weather...
Luck: That's because it's Astroturf.
Stewart: Favorite kind of grass. Always has been.
Luck: Bill, there's someone I want you to meet.
Stewart: A new friend! Always glad to make one.
Luck: Bill, this is Dana Holgorsen.
Skullet-tor: 'Sup, cuz-bro. Hey, do dip stains come out of this stuff? I gotta know these things.
Stewart: Oh, it comes out just fine, and--heyyy, Oliver, this young fella's an offensive coordinator, ain't he?
Luck: We're hoping he can be a little bit more than that, Bill, and that's what I want to talk about.
Stewart: Galldarnit, Oliver, you can't sell a bear with its owner on its back!
Luck: Bill, listen, I'm --
Stewart: You can't snatch the skunk chop out of a man's biscuit sandwich, Oliver!
Luck: Bill, I'm--
Stewart; You can't shine the onion-buckle of another man's bearskin pantaloons while dry-tobogganing on Spruce Mountain at dawn, Oliver!
Luck: I suspect you're just making this up now, Bill.
Holgorsen: Dry-tobogganing. Sounds pretty chill, mountain-bro.
Stewart: Oh, golly, it's a whole buncha fun, Dana. We should really go--HEY I'M MAD AT BOTH OF YOU AND JUST FORGOT IT.
Luck: I'm here to let you know we'd like you to take on Coach Holgorsen as your coach-in-waiting.
Luck: I know this is difficult, and you've been very loyal to the university and the community. We just feel like the program needs some new life. Coach Holgorsen would take over in 2012.
Luck: Please? I don't want to have to fire you.
Holgorsen: It'd be cool, Bill. We could just chill, you could show me how to make all that country stuff like deer grease and possum hats and shit. I'm not above killing a deer or three. I mean, I've done it with my car, and that's kind of like shooting one, but with a bullet that weighs like...how much does a car weigh? I DON'T EVEN KNOW LOL--
Stewart: Not doing it.
Holgorsen: Okay, like a really kickass bullet I bought at a police surplus auction. Everyone thinks you're a cop in a Crown Vic, but savings, man. The saving are insane.
Luck: Please, Bill. I'll do what I have to do to make this program better, but I want you to be part of the transition.
Stewart: Fine! There's one test a man has to pass to call himself my equal. He's got to walk right.
Holgorsen: Two legs and the thing that swings in between, friend. Check.
Stewart: He's got to say the things that need to be said, and nothing more.
Holgorsen: The talkin' is brief, the tactics are all beef, with the ladies I'm a thief and the rest is just a queef. Double check. Next.
Stewart: And he's got to be able to out-whittle me.
Luck: Hey, Bill, I'm not so sure.
Holgorsen: No, man, I'll give it a go.
Stewart: You're on, hippie!
Stewart turns his back to Luck and Holgorsen. There is a sound of furious whittling, and a smell of wood shavings in the air. After five minutes or so, a sweaty and beaming Stewart presents his work.
Luck: Wow, Bill. The Ball in the Cage.
Stewart: Top that, Electric Kool Aid Acid Trip!
Luck: You know this won't have anything to do with you getting the job, right?
Holgorsen: Got this, daddy. I've never done this before, but..
Holgorsen turns and walks into the tunnel. There is a tremendous noise of construction and work going on, a clanging of hammers and chisels and wood being worked into some unseen construction of immense complexity and heft. Holgorsen exits with nothing in hand.
Stewart: You got nothing! I knew you weren't a whittler at heart.
Holgorsen: Nah, I did get something. Come up here.
They climb to the lip of the stadium. Holgorsen hands Stewart a set of binoculars. Their vision focuses on the Monongahela River in the distance.
Holgorsen: Had to float her immediately. The boys wanted to test it. Just impatient, I guess.
Appreciative Vikings: Ja! Thanks to the Dana for the boat for the pillage ja!
Luck: Are those Vikings?
Holgorsen: They prefer the term Norsemen. Dunno why. They just follow me around and stuff. It's crazy, but you know [gestures with both thumbs at himself]. That's normal around here. Must be the name.
Stewart: From a single piece of wood?
Holgorsen: You know another way to make a boat, man?
Luck: Welcome aboard, Coach Holgorsen.
Holgorsen: I gotta wear pants, right?
Luck: Right, but no one can control the underwear. That's in the contract.
Holgorsen: Morgantown's about to go commando, then.