THE ODD COUPLE: MILLEN AND THE INTERN -- "THE GOLF OUTING"

by Stan, Ghosts of Wayne Fontes

Author's Note: Returning where we left off with the running series "Millen and the Intern." Yes, the famed and now somewhat mysterious much maligned GM of the Detroit Lions and his intern are still around. In case you missed how this all began, here is the back story. And today's adventure finds the pair relaxing in Arizona before the Lions play the Cardinals this weekend.

A golf course somewhere near Scottsdale, AZ

Our buddies are riding around in a golf cart and soaking in the Arizona sun on a peaceful afternoon of some golf.

Millen: Put me down for a “5” on that last hole.

Intern: You sure you had a 5---

Millen: Don't fucking question me, my track record is indicative enough proof of what an established man I am. Would the face of the 6-2 Detroit Lions fib or lie? What are you trying to accuse me of...cheating? You smug prick, wipe that grin off your face.

Intern: Got it.

Millen: Damn straight you got it skippy. I’ll tell you...it don’t get much better than this does it?

Intern: No Sir.

Millen: Yup, just getting out and enjoying mother nature’s gift of fine weather and hitting some sticks. Remember though, this is strictly leisure golf. Nothing business related, I don’t want to hear what a great fucking GM I am. How I’ve “restored the roar” or how if I would only take over the Auto-Industry and work the same magic I’ve worked with the Lions, Detroit’s economy would pick up. You hear me…none of that shit. Send me an IM, blow hot air on my ballsac and tell me I’m great when this vacation is over.

Intern: Um, that would mean Detroit’s economy wouldn’t stabilize for at least another 5 or 6 years.

Millen: Why you smart ass, I oughta shove a wedge up your ass. Hand me my “5”…NOW!!!

Millen pauses looks down and lines up his shot. The Intern coughs.

Millen: Seriously, I can’t fucking concentrate when you are coughing in my back swing. Here what do you think, should I hit the “5” or the “7?”

Intern: I’d go with the 5.

Millen: Really, give me the 7…prick.

Millen lays up short.

Millen: Prick. You’re a cocky little son of bitch now aren’t you intern? Well, I got news for you…I’ll fuck your day up.

Intern: Affirmative.

Millen: Hand me my phone. Check this out, I can organize my Fantasy team right here on my Blackberry. Maybe, with my recommendation to the Ford Family you might actually become an actual employee in the Lions organization and I could get you one of these neat little devices. However, with your “hollier than thou” attitude on the course this afternoon, that’s not looking so promising. Check it out; I’m starting Kitna, Williams, Johnson, McDonald and Jones this weekend.

Intern: I don’t know, Kitna hasn’t been doing that great lately.

Millen: WHAT? Do you know Jon Kitna? Have you met Jon Kitna? The man is devout follower and disciple of the Lord. How dare you fucking insult the QB, I hand selected to lead this team.

(Awkward Silence)

Millen: When the cart girl comes back we need to get some Tuna Grinders. Give me two. This one is on your tab. I could eat the shit out of a Tuna sambo right about now. They always give me the shits, but god damn are they good.

The two approach the green and line up their puts. Millen abruptly farts as the intern is putting and busts into hysterics.

Intern: That putt was for par.

Millen: Wha-wha, you fucking baby. Be a man. I saw you hacking it up back there. Par, my ass.

Intern (mumbling under his breath): I'm not the one cheating.

Millen: WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?

Intern: Nothing.

Millen: Exactly what I thought you fucking morsel --- Oh, there she is. Look at that fine little juicy ass. I'd devour and ravage that poor little cart girl, but you didn't here that from me.

Intern: Loud and clear.

Millen: Sunday bloody Sunday my friend. Can you believe that I will have engineered the Lions to a 7-2 mark by Sunday night? Who is laughing now? Who is the idiot now? Nobody is laughing anymore. I am the architect behind the Lions renisance. Speaking of which, I need to call my bookie...Wayne Fontes and drop some cash on the team this weekend.

Intern: It took you long enough.

Millen: That's about enough from you. Stop this cart and give my wedge, I'm gonna shove this thing up your ass.

Millen grabs his wedge and is foaming at the mouth.

Millen: I'm sorry bud, sometimes I just get so fucking tense about my team. They are like my baby. My "Big Baby." What do you say we go get a burger...my treat? God, I can't fucking wait until Sunday. Roar Restored. That message has been approved, by Matt "Fucking" Millen...prick.

(Originally published 11/8)