The premise: Coming off a Super Bowl victory, the Patriots open the 2013 season with a blowout win. Unfortunately, they get into trouble for Spygate II. As punishment, Roger Goodell orders the Patriots to fire Bill Belichick and replace him with Emmitt Smith. Three years later, the Patriots beat the Bears in the Super Bowl, 2-0. After the game, Emmitt announced his retirement.
This is a weekly feature that will take a newspaper reporter's perspective and follow Emmitt through his post-retirement days.
By Alex Rodriguez, Special to the NFL Bible Network Tuesday, Jan. 29, 2019
Emmitt and his companions spent the night at Jerry Jones' shack. They needed their rest, and Jerry wanted one more night with his girls.
"That one lady, Ginger, wow," Jerry said while walking alongside Emmitt the following morning. "I know she is half my age, Emmitt, but I think I am in love. I have never met someone I have had so much in common with before."
"What do you has in commons with Gingerbread?" Emmitt asked.
"Well... uhh... we both love to take pictures with each other," Jerry answered. "And then there... there are... oh boy, Emmitt, why are you befuddlin' me with these doggone hard questions?"
Emmitt, Jerry, Josh Gordon, Ray Rice and Robert Kraft boarded the private jet on the runway on the other side of the island. The jet was very much like Jerry's shack; the strobe lights were annoying, and the loud music hurt Emmitt's ears. There were also half-naked girls everywhere.
"Ah, there is the love of my life, Maryanne!" Jerry exclaimed.
He and the big-breasted blonde embraced, and then someone snapped a picture of them. Emmitt, not wanting to interrupt his former employer, walked to the back of the aircraft. He sat down, but some rummaging in the bathroom startled him. Rice was even more frightened.
"Who's there!?" Rice shouted. "If you're a scary woman, I swear, I have two fists and I know how to use them!"
A short man emerged from the bathroom, and Rice instantly cowered under his seat. The man was in his mid-20s and reeked of alcohol. He held a rolled-up $20 bill in his hand.
"Johnny Manziel!" Gordon shouted. "What the hell are you doing here!?"
"I'm just a 21-year-old kid, living the life," Manziel replied. "You know, I'm just having fun, like any other 21-year-old kid because that's just what I am. A 21-year-old kid living the life."
"You're not 21, you imbecile; you're 26!" Gordon shrieked. "You already destroyed my career, and now you're going to ruin our goal to stop the Walking Bucs from attacking everyone!"
"Whoa, I ruined your career?" Manziel asked with a puzzled look on his face. "If I remember correctly, you're the one who got busted for weed. I can't believe you smoked weed. That's literally the worst thing you could do. Why didn't you hit some woman like Ray here? You would've gotten two, maybe three games if there was no videotape. But no. You just had to smoke that reefer, and let's not forget that you ruined Cory Matthews' life by making his daughter super annoying. You paid the ultimate price for your actions."
"Well... well..." Gordon stammered. "At least I'm not holding coke in my hands! Another rolled-up $20, Johnny? So I can't do weed, but you can snort coke?"
"Ugh, for the billionth time, this isn't coke," Manziel replied with some frustration in his voice. "I'm not rolling coke into these $20 bills. I'm rolling Fruity Pebbles. I love snorting Fruity Pebbles. They're magically delicious."
"That's the slogan for Lucky Charms; not Fruity Pebbles, you idiot," Gordon barked.
"Whatever, man," Manziel replied nonchalantly. "I'm just a cool 21-year-old, living the life, partying in Vegas clubs and snorting Fruity Pebbles. You wish you could be me."
Gordon sat down and folded his arms. He looked out the window, not wanting to take part in this conversation anymore. A befuddled Emmitt had one final question for Manziel.
"Johnny... uhh... Ballfoot, I have a confuse," Emmitt said. "I mean, I has a question. If you is 21 years old now, and you were draft five year ago, do that mean you was 14 year old when you was draft?"
Manziel smiled. "Like I said, I'm just a 21-year-old kid, living the life."
MANZIEL REVEALS SECRET TO EMMITT
By Alex Rodriguez, Special to the NFL Bible Network Tuesday, Jan. 29, 2019
Emmitt spent the first half of the flight thinking about what Johnny Manziel had said to him.
If he 21 year old now, and he 21 year old five year ago, that do not make any senses! Emmitt thought to himself. Because if you substrax 21 from the five, you has to carry the eight, and then you get the number 14, so how Johnny Ballfoot not 14 year old when he was draft?
Just as Emmitt began nodding off, an odd smell wafted into his nose - a mixture of Mike's Hard Lemonade and Fruity Pebbles. He looked up and saw that Manziel was standing over him.
"This seat taken?" he asked.
Emmitt shook his head, and Manziel sat down next to him.
"Emmitt, I've been waiting a long time to speak with you," Manziel said quietly so no one else would hear him. "A very long time - because you are the chosen one."
"The chosened one?" Emmitt asked, taken aback. "What do exactly do I have to choosed? I will admit that I am not good at making a choose."
"No, Emmitt," Manziel replied, ignoring the horrible grammatical errors. "You are the chosen one, as in you'll be the one to stop this horrible zombie outbreak and save all of humanity."
Emmitt rubbed his bald head. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. How would he save all of humanity? How did Manziel know all of this? Or was Manziel saying this because of the inebriated condition he was in?
"I think you mistakened," Emmitt finally said after a few minutes of silence. "I do not know how to stop zombie except you chop his head off. How you know these thing, Jimmy Ballfoot? You just a 21-year-old kid havin' a good time like you says."
Manziel laughed. "I've developed into a good liar over the years, I'll admit that," he said. "Truth be told, Emmitt, this is all an act. I do not like to get drunk, party in stupid Vegas clubs or act like a complete asshat. I do love snorting Fruity Pebbles, but that won't distract me from my mission."
"And what mission is that?" Emmitt asked.
"To guide you through this Walking Buc apocalypse," Manziel answered. "As you may have guessed, I'm not some 21-year-old kid having fun. I'm really 160 years old, though I've maintained this body since I was 21. That's why I can sophomorically run around stating that I'm just a 21-year-old having fun without anyone questioning it."
"I've been on that island you were on, Emmitt, since the late 1800s," Manziel revealed. "I was on a slave ship there. Yes, I was a slave; I was made one because I smoked weed. That's why I was so critical of Josh earlier. Had I just hit a woman, all would be good if there wasn't a videotape, but the reefer did me in. They put me on that ship, but we crashed on the island. While there, I met a man who gave me a potion that granted me eternal life. In exchange, he told me I'd have to guide the chosen one through a zombie apocalypse in the first quarter of the 21st century."
Emmitt, clearly confused, scratched his head while trying to soak everything in.
"I have another confuse," he said. "I mean another question. If you grant internal life, do that mean that you live inside yourselves?"
"That's eternal life; not internal life," Manziel replied, putting his hand on Emmitt's shoulders. "No need to worry, Emmitt. You'll find out everything soon enough."
Manziel stood up. "Get some rest, Emmitt," he said. "We have to save humanity once we get back to America."