Uh oh. Uh OH. UH OH……the Eagles have forced their way into the playoffs party and they’re ready to fuck some shit up.
Nobody wanted them in. Nobody thought they were coming in. Everyone was set for a calm and collected first round exit from Kirk Cousins, not a whole lot of mess, not a whole lot of fuss.
The Eagles threw a trashcan through the playoff window a la Cactus Jack and they’re looking for a piano to poop in to completely ruin the party for everyone else.
You wanted wine and cheese? The Eagles are bringing Yeungling and will be huffing glue in the driveway all night before barging in, making out with your girlfriend, and raiding your dad’s liquor cabinet.
They’re tracking mud and shit all over your carpets. The jolly, good-natured Chicago Bears fans? They’re getting back-handed across their midwestern jowls with a Super Bowl ring hand and told to shut their yaps about their overrated, doughy pizza cake they stuff into their fat faces 12 months out of the year.
They’re back, baby. Did you think we’d be able to say that 5 weeks ago? Nick Foles slapped his tremendous genitalia down in the locker room and tied the team to his huge balls and pulled them and the city back into the promised land.
Everyone is 0-0 now. The records are gone.
Will they win another Super Bowl? I don’t know. But the NFL will know they were there. We’ll all know when those ski masks go on and your mother’s antique china hutch is tossed through the windshield of your dad’s Porsche.
You should have locked the door to the party, NFL. You wanna get nuts? Let’s get nuts.