Adam Jones and The Game of Life

Adam Jones' Brain: Connect four.

Adam Jones' Hands: Wait.....hold on............

Brain: You see, it's diagonal. I started in the corner and-

Hands: Hold on wait......how......and then the red one went here and......awww FUCK!

Brain: Sorry.

Adam smacks the game off the table.

Hands: Yo I hate dis game! Why we gotta sit inside all day playin pussy games? I wanna play dat old game we usedta play. Memba' dat? Shit, what was it.

Brain: I don't know. It was so long ago.

Hands: Fuck, Brain, don't play me. You know dat game. Wit the runnin and the brown thing and the tacklin bitches..... Oh, touchdowns! I remember touchdown. What game has dat?

Brain: Sorry. Doesn't ring a bell.

Adam Jones' Legs: That's football, son.

Brain: Legs!

Hands: YYYEEEEEAAAAAA. Football, nigga! Yo I luuuudddd dat game. Why you holdin out on us BRAIN?! I know yo' thinkin ass knew what I's talkin bout.

Brain: What's the point? We're done with football. Commissioner Goodell suspended us, so we have to stay away from anything related to the NFL. There's no sense living in the past. This is our life now: staying home, staying sober, and staying out of trouble.

Hands: Yo but look. We could tell Commissioner Gordon dat we aint been drinkin or smokin or nothin. And you know how we fuck em up? It be true!

Brain: Well maybe you should have thought about doing that before we got suspended and then we would still be playing the game you "lud." But it's too late and we are done with the NFL. We have plenty of board games we can play.

Legs: But why does it always have to be board games?

Brain: BECAUSE. Board games. Are. Fun. Now what is it going to be, guys? Candy Land or Shoots and Ladders?

Hands: Candy Land.

Legs: No, Hands.

Hands: But I wanna hit up Gumdrop Mountain and get me some peanut brittle!

Legs: No I mean I'm done watchin Brain beat you in every kids' game we got in dis house. I'm restless as shit. I'm takin us outside.

Brain: No, Legs. NO. Do not leave this house. DO NOT WALK US OUTSIDE.

Legs: Fuck it.

Adam gets up and walks to the front door.

Brain: Legs! Don't forget I do control you!

Legs: Oh word? Control me then.

Brain: Well, I'm sayin...I'm not sayin I would, I'm just sayin that if-

Legs: See if you can stop me from running through this window. Let's see what happens.

Hands: Yeah! And see if you can stop me from juggling these knives. Let's see what happens!

Brain: Guys! Stop. Please. Why does it always come to this?? This is what gets us in trouble! Why do we feel the need to fight until we hurt ourselves?

Legs: Aight, Brain. We good. But I'm still walkin outside.

Brain: Okay, fine. But just for a little fresh air.

Adam opens his front door and steps on the newspaper.

Legs: I stepped on somethin. Hands, pick it up.

Hands: I got it. Yo what the fuck is dis? Dis be the shittiest magazine I ever SEEN. Haha it's all grey and shit. Shit's all fallin apart look. Aint even glued together right.

Brain: You know what, Hands? You're right! That sure is one crappy magazine! Let's just throw it out and play some more Topple.

Legs: Shut up, Brain. Hands, it's not a magazine. It's a newspaper.

Hands: Oh.

Legs: Yo look at the front page.



Hands: Yo dat's dat nigga Plax! Read dis to me, Brain.

Brain: Wouldn't you rather go inside?

Legs: I'll read it. Aw, shit. Plax was totin in the club and when he reached for the whistle he let off on his own leg.

Hands: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh mah god. OH MAH GAWD! Dis nigga shot hisself in the LEG. He shot hisself. HISSELF. Wit his own gun! Brain. BRAIN! DIS NIGGA SHOT HISSELF IN THE LEG.

Brain: Yeah. Saw that. I just hope him leg is okay..

Legs: Hands, you pull any shit like that wit me and we gon be da first nigga to chop his hands off wit his own feet.

Hands: Nahhh don't you worry bout dat, playbwoy. You know Hands good wit da heata'. Mah gunplay tight. You saw me in da club. Memba dat? Dat stripper was like "Ooh lemme get dat cash," and Hands be like, "Sho' bitch. Don't forget deez shells." And I'm like blakka, blakka, blakka. I dead all dem bitches. Didn't hit mahself once.

Brain: Hey, Hands. Maybe you can call the commissioner so he can enjoy that story as well.

Hands: I would but he don't give me the number to dat Bat Phone.

Brain: Can we go back inside now? We have a lot of chores to do today and football isn't a part of our lives anymore.

Legs: Does it say which thigh he hit? God, I don't know if I had to choose...

Adam flips through the pages of the sports section.

Hands: Nah I don't see where-....YO DAT'S PACMAN!!!

Legs: What?!?

Hands: YO! DAT'S PACMAN! IN DA GREY MAGAZINE! PACMAN BE IN DIS GREY MAGAZINE!!!



Brain: Ahhhhhhhh shit.

Legs: This says we reinstated in the league, Brain. What the fuck, man. Why you aint tell us?!

Brain: BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT ALWAYS HAPPENS. We always get into trouble, we sit out for a while, then we go back to playing. Well I don't care if you guys tricked Goodell into reinstating you because I DON'T WANT TO PLAY ANYMORE. I can't stand babysitting you..A-HOLES all day, just so that we can play a neanderthal game for a few weeks and then fuck it all up again next time one of you decides to befoul a limousine or rob a bank or whatever the frick you guys are gonna do next! What about what I want to do?! What about my dreams?!? I want to see a musical. I want to go on a camping trip. I want to write a romance novel. But do we ever get to do what I want to do?? NOOOOOOOO. And we never will, so long as we stay in this freakin cycle. So I'm done. I'm done with all it! I'm done with all of you!! And I'm done with football!!!

Legs: ....I'm walkin us to the Hummer. We gon drive to practice. Hands you got the wheel.

Hands: Yee-uh. Yo I got madd drivin skills. I'm gon drive and shoot at the same time like GTA4. Blakka, blakka, blakka.

Brain: God I hate you guys. I'm gonna call Plaxico. Maybe he could have some use for me.

A.J. vs. P.A.C.

Adam Jones' Brain: What did I say..

Adam Jones' Hands: Yo. Aight first off-

Brain: What did I say..

Hands: Yo, I'm sayin'-

Brain: WHAT. DID I. SAY..

Hands: Shiiiit. Aight. You said don't do anything wit'out axin you first.

Brain: Thank you. But did you listen to me? Nooooo. Do you ever listen to me? NOOOOO.

Hands: But yo I'm sayin' it wasn't even my fault!

Brain: Of course it wasn't! It's never your fault! It wasn't your fault when you didn't want to pay the valet so you said, "I'll just hit her." It wasn't your fault when we got pulled over for 75 in a school zone. It wasn't your fault when you wanted to "make it rain" in that strip club in Vegas that coincidentally got shot up after we left. And it certainly wasn't your fault that we got in a drunken fight when we are under a zero tolerance policy from the commissioner of the NFL!

Hands: Exactly. Thank you.

Brain: THEY WERE ALL YOUR FAULT!

Hands: How is the speeding ticket my fault?

Adam Jones' Legs: Don't drag me into this, boy.

Hands: Aight, aight, you wanna blame Hands. Fine. But yo. For real? Shit is going on in the streets, man. Yo niggas is in the grind. Where you be at, man? Niggas be buckin. Why you never buckin? Where you be at, man??

Brain: First of all, I'm a brain, and you are hands. We are a part of the same body. I am always, inherently, in the same place that you are. That's where I "be at." Second of all, if bucking means "shooting a gun," then being that I am a brain, it would be physically impossible for me to shoot a gun. Third of all, those guns are what got us into trouble in the first place. How could you glorify gun violence when that's what essentially cost us our career? Someone almost died behind that!

Legs: Yo, he just stole those lines from a song.

Brain: What?

Legs: Those are lyrics.

Hands: No they aint!

Legs: It's Nas. It's called Destroy and Rebuild.

Brain: Really? What the fuck, Hands. You think this is a joke?

Hands: Nah, man. It's just...I don't know. I don't know what they want from me. It's like the more money we come across, the more problems we see.

Brain: Exactly. That's what I've been saying. All this money and fame can get us into a lot of trouble. Thank you for finally-

Legs: It's another song, Brain.

Hands: Nah, man. I made that up.

Legs: That's BIG man. Everyone know that.

Brain: Seriously? This is what you wanna do all day, Hands?

Hands: Yo. We out there every day and people be throwin' dirt on our name. They be testin' us. They be talkin' shit 'bout Pacman.

Brain: You mean "Adam."

Hands: Nah, fuck that, man! We Pacman! We always been Pacman and we always gon' be Pacman! And when people disrespect Pacman, Hands is on the front line! That big ol' bouncer tried to talk shit and I did what I's 'posed to! I popped that fat bitch in the side of his head!

Legs: Man, you only waited until people were around to separate you.

Brain: Legs, I saw you kicking him too!

Legs: Well, hey, man. You know what they say. Bitches get kick-es.

Brain: That is not an expression.

Hands: Why you so mad, Brain? You act like you surprised.

Brain: I know, I know. I shouldn't be. But it was all going so well. We started out 3-0. Everyone said we were the best team in football. Fans were screaming our name...

Legs: It aint that bad, man.

Brain: ...we led the team in tackles against Green Bay, we recovered a fumble...

Hands: It'll be aight.

Brain: ...it was almost as if everyone forgot. It was all going just as I planned. And now, Jerry Jones is going to kill us.

Legs: Nah, man. JJ loves us.

Brain: That's just for the press! He told me that if we messed up, even once, he would give us a Texas Funeral. And we'd never see it coming.

Legs: You really think he'd do that?

Brain: We were standing at the grave of Frank Cornish when he told me.

Legs: Fuckin shit.

Hands: Nah, man. We good. How he gon' kill family? JJ won't do that. You can't kill family.

Brain: What are you talking about? What is he talking about?

Legs: "Jones."

Brain: Jesus Christ.

Legs: Look, we can't just sit here cryin' all day.

Brain: Well we got four weeks off now. Maybe even more. So what do we do now? What the fuck do we do now?

Adam Jones' Dick: ...Wanna go to the strip club?

Adam Jones' Innard Monologue

Adam Pacman Jones' organs have a conversation.

Adam Jones' Brain: That was amazing. What a game! I can't believe we went a year without playing football!

Adam Jones' Legs: Hell yeah, man. I'm tired as shit but it was worth it. So much fun gettin back out there.

Adam Jones' Hands: Word, son. I'm gonna have a hun'id innaceptions.

Brain: Okay, okay I'm excited too. But we still have work to do, boys. Their only touchdown was a result of your pass interference penalty, Hands.

Hands: Say what?! Yo that was Legs' fault. All Legs, boy.

Legs: Fuck that, I was in position. You got lazy, Hands.

Brain: No matter, no matter. The most important thing is that the team won. But we still have a lot of work to do. Let's get back in the gym and prepare for the Philadelphia Eagles!

Legs: Nah, man. I'm too tired.

Brain: But what about next week?

Legs: I got nothin in the tank. I need a break. I can barely move.

Hands: Cmon, Brain. We got til Monday. Free day, yo!

Brain: I suppose you're right about that.

Legs: Let's just cool out.

Brain: Okay then. So what do you want to do tonight?

Legs: I dunno dude.

Hands: Whatever's clever.

Adam Jones' Dick: Wanna go to the strip club?

Brain: I'm sorry? Did you say something, Dick?

Dick: I said.....wanna go to the strip club.

Brain: What the fuck?! Are you kidding me, Dick? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!

Hands: Whoa, whoa, easy playboy.

Dick: Why would you talk to me like that?

Brain: Wha...wha...what are you saying. I don't know what you're saying. I didn't hear that.

Dick: Listen-

Brain: No!

Dick: Just hear me out!

Legs: Brain, listen to him, man. We all in this together.

Brain: Ugh. You're right, Legs. Fine. Go ahead, Dick. I apologize for my language.

Dick: Look, all I'm sayin is. We back in the league, right? We 1-0, right? We been good, right? Why can't we just relax in the club?

Brain: I listened. The answer is no.

Dick: It won't be like the old days. I've changed. We've all changed. Have we even gotten in trouble in the past 12 months?

Brain: Yes! Hands punched a stripper in the eye in January!

Hands: ...Why you gotta bring up old shit...

Dick: But! We didn't get arrested.

Brain: Because I paid her off!

Dick: Look we can go back and forth all night. I think we all know that our rightful place is in that strip club. We need that strip club. We make the strip club. We are the strip club.

Brain: What the fuck does that mean?

Legs: I'm in.

Brain: WHAT?! You said you couldn't even move.

Legs: Fuck it.

Brain: Umm, "Fuck it?"

Hands: You heard him, you fuckin nerd. (sings) We goin striiiiip cluuuub. We goin striiiip cluuub.

Brain: Gentlemen, please. Let's just discuss this like civilized-

Dick: What's up, Balls. You in?

Adam Jones' Balls: Ehh, I don't know. I'm partial to Hooters, personally.

Hands: Shiiit we went to Hooters for your ass last time.

Dick: Why would you take Hooters over a strip club?

Balls: I like to have a bit of mystery.

Dick: That is retarded.

Balls: Ya know what? You're a DICK.

Dick: Wow, that's really fresh. Never heard that one. Original.

Legs: Fuck this noise. I'm walkin.

Brain: Legs, stop. Look we don't have to-

Hands: Can I slap a bitch?

Brain: No!

Dick: Yes.

Brain: NO! What the fuck, Dick?!

Dick: We're goin, Brain. You know it and I know it. You may as well come with.

Brain: I will NOT.

Dick: Suit yourself. But you know what happens when you don't come. Things get....unfortunate...

Brain: Fine. Look we'll just go for an hour. JUST AN HOUR. Then we come home.

Hands: (sings) I'ma grab some tittays in da strip cluuuub.

Brain: No, Hands. No grabbing. No drinking. No shooting. Everyone got that?

Dick: Of course, of course. There's just one problem. Jerry Jones ordered all the strip clubs in Dallas to bar Pacman Jones from entering.

Brain: That's why I changed it to Adam last month.

Legs: Wow.

Dick: I am impressed.

Hands: Yo Brain, you's a genius!

Brain: You know it. So should we call Tank?

Adam Jones' Stomach: Nah, fuck that. That fat bitch eat all my wings.

Brain: Good call. Alright let's go. Hands, get the weed.