Unidentified Blackhawk: “Please Luke, I’m begging you, just let me hide here behind you and far away from Laraque, and I’ll buy you a beer after the game. No, two! I’ll buy you two, man. Just don’t let him see me. I jammed my stick in his crotch a couple minutes ago — I don’t know why I did it; it was a spur-of-the-moment thing — and now he’s going to kick the living crap out of me. Do you know how big that guy is? Like 6’9″ or something and like 300 pounds. They say he’s a vegan, but I’ve heard rumors he’s bitten dudes’ heads off.”

Luke Richardson: “Jesus, dude, have some pride! George is only 6’3”, 250 pounds, and he bit the head off, like, one guy, and… aw man, are they seriously taking a photo of THIS conversation for my 600th-game card? Aw, come on, dude, let go of my arm, you’re making me look bad.”

Unidentified Blackhawk: “Three beers, Luke… I’m beggin you!”