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, Feb. 12, 2019
Emmitt and his friends narrowly escaped from the corrupt city of Snozzberry and its evil Secretary of Education, Gus Bradley. Emmitt's crew, now reduced to seven - Johnny Manziel, Ray Rice, Josh Gordon, Jerry Jones, Jim Irsay, DeSean Jackson and Emmitt himself - drove as far west as they could go, but encountered a blockade in Arizona. The Onett police department wouldn't let Jackson's Toyota Sienna pass through.
"But we have to get to California to find the second scion of the Walking Buc Apocalypse!" Jackson complained, but to no avail. The Onett police officer murmured something about going for the roadblock world record.
Emmitt opened his trusty atlas and studied the map of Europe before he realized he was looking at the wrong continent. He then flipped to America and noticed that two parts of the map were glowing. Three circles - one in California; two others in Texas - radiated. Emmitt assumed it was just the sunlight and then went told everyone the detour they'd have to take.
"It took like we going to have to travel in the up direction and go through the city of Utah and then the country with the triangle at the bottom to get to California," Emmitt said.
"This is not good ... not good at all," Manziel replied.
"Why's that, Johnny?' Irsay responded. "We're going through Nevada, which means Vegas, which means more hookers for me to sell my drugs to!"
"We're not here to do that," Manziel snapped. "And we have to get through Utah first anyway. I've heard horrible things about Utah. Ever since the Walking Bucs started showing up, no one has ventured into Utah and lived to tell about it. No one knows what's going on there, but it can't be good."
"Well, we don't have a choice, do we?" Gordon asked. "If we can't find the two remaining scions, humanity is doomed forever."
The seven men all agreed that they needed to go in the "up direction" and venture into Utah. So, they did just that, passing by deserted cities in Arizona like Twoson and Threed before they reached the border.
No one said anything as Jackson's minivan turned west toward Nevada. The hum of the engine and the occasional bump on the road provided the only respite from the eerie silence. A third sound - the brakes squeaking - interrupted the soundless monotony.
"Guys, where do we go?" Jackson asked.
The men suddenly found themselves confronted with an eight-way intersection.
"Why don't you just go straight?" Rice asked.
"Or now that we stop going in the up direction, maybe we go in the left direction," Emmitt chimed in.
"I have been going straight and left," Jackson answered. "I've been at this intersection seven times already, and I've gone down a different road on each occasion. I even tried going back, and nothing works - we just keep coming back here."
"What about the eighth road?" Gordon asked.
"That's the problem," Jackson said. "It says it leads to Salt Lake City, but we don't need to go there because I know from looking at Emmitt's trusty atlas that it's out of the way."
"Might as well go there and see if we can ask anyone for directions," Gordon suggested.
Jackson shrugged his shoulders and turned on the road that led to Salt Lake City. The sky grew darker with each passing mile, and the men saw signs every so often. The words "sanctuary" and "safe haven" were most prevalent.
"Safe heaven?" Emmitt asked. "Maybe God know the answer to our question."
An hour later, the men finally arrived at Salt Lake City - or rather, a large building with the words "Salt Lake City" taped to the windows.
"Maybe one of us should stay behind just in case it's a trap," Rice suggested.
"Don't be a sissy, Ray," Gordon snapped. "Didn't you see the signs that said 'sanctuary' and 'safe haven?' We're totally safe. Let's all go in at the same time."
Emmitt and his crew gathered some supplies and approached the entrance. They walked by a garden, turned the corner and saw a woman barbecuing meat. She was a middle-aged blonde wearing an odd black-and-gold uniform, almost as if she were from space. A metallic signet was taped to her chest.
"Welcome to Salt Lake City," she said warmly. "Now, let me make you a plate."
Seven men snuck up behind Emmitt and each of his companions and knocked them out.
"I didn't finish," she sneered. "I'll make you a plate that we can enjoy for dinner."
EMMITT SENTENCED TO DINNER
By Alex Rodriguez, Special to the NFL Bible Network Wednesday, Feb. 13, 2019
Emmitt awakened hours later. It was pitch black, save for a tiny strip of light emanating from his right.
"Guys, what happen?" Emmitt asked, rubbing his head. "First, a lady ask us if we want to buy plates from her, and the next thing I know, it becomed night time."
"It's not night time, Emmitt," Johnny Manziel replied. "We're trapped in a train car. And she wasn't trying to sell us plates either. I heard her as I was passing out. She wants to turn us into dinner."
"I do not understand last parted," Emmitt answered. "If she want to turn us into dinner, why she trap us in a train instead of sendin' us to the supermarket?"
"They're cannibals, Emmitt!" Ray Rice cried. "Everyone in Utah is a cannibal - that's why no one has entered the state and lived to tell about it!"
"Ah, they cannonballs," Emmitt responded. "Wait, that do not make sensed either to myselves. That lady walk, and she not oval, and she do not have three hole on herselves. She definitely not cannonballs, and believe me, I know what cannonball looks like because I go bowlin' all the time."
They explained to Emmitt what exactly was going to happen to them if they didn't escape. Before Emmitt could ask more questions, the door creaked open. The woman stood there, surrounded by a dozen men with guns.
"Our leader would like to see you before we grill and smoke you," she said.
"I'll take you on right now!" Rice shouted before hearing a gun load. He then dived to the ground, remembering that he was surrounded by more than just one female. "I'm sorry, I forgot there were guys here. Please don't hurt me!"
The woman kicked him and then ordered one of the guards to pick him up. She then led the seven men to the largest building in the compound. It had giant, red doors and a ramp that led up to it rather than steps.
"The ramp and doors are the only way he can get into his home," the woman said when she noticed that Emmitt and his friends were in awe of the setup.
The interior was a mess. Countless ketchup packets, dirty napkins and empty pizza boxes were all over the place. In fact, the floor was nearly impossible to see. They plodded through the trash and walked into the dining room. A rotund man sat at the head of the table, clutching giant slabs of meat in both hands.
"Mr. Andy Reid, here's what we'll be eating for dinner tonight," the woman said cautiously.
"Hem, hem..." Reid sort of said, clearing his throat. "Injuries... uhh... Robert, the gardener tripped, sprained his ankle, I ate him... hem, hem... uhh... Rosa, sick in the hospital... she'll be emergency rations... hem, hem... uhh..."
"You ate Robert? I loved him!" the woman cried.
"Umm... he was tasty... uhh... hem hem..." Reid answered. "You can join him in my stomach... uhh... umm... if you want to... hem, hem..."
The woman shook her head and quickly backed away. Reid then took a close look at the seven men. "Too small..." he said of Manziel. "Too old..." he said of Jim Irsay. "Too skinny..." he said of Jerry Jones.
Reid then stared down Emmitt. "Just right... hem, hem..." he muttered.
"You heard the man," the woman said. "Let's take him down to the kitchen."
"Wait!" Manziel shouted. "That's one of the scions of the Walking Buc apocalypse! He's our only hope!"
"So what?" Reid asked, eyeing Manziel angrily. "Apocalypse is good for me... hem, hem... uhh... I get to eat whatever I want... umm... or whoever... hem, hem... without anyone saying no... hem, hem..."
Reid then motioned to one of his guards. "Take him down too since he spoke out... uhh... hem, hem... he'll be an appetizer for my fifth dinner tonight, hem, hem..."