Carl stops dead in his tracks as he sees Herm Edwards sitting in his chair.
Herm: Hey Carl.
Carl: Uh... hey Herm.
Herm: I'm having a GREAT time. I can see why you've been doing this for so long.
Carl: Why are you sitting at my desk?
Herm: Just wanted to see what it's like.
Carl: Uh huh.
Herm: Can't judge a man 'til you walk a mile in his--
Carl: --Get out of my chair, Herm.
Herm: K.
Herm gets up.
Carl sits down.
Herm teeters nervously over Carl's desk.
Carl: Can I help you?
Herm: You play to win the game?
Carl: Whatever. You totally rearranged my desk icons on my computer. You know this isn't your stuff. Where's the personnel file? It's not in the "Recycle Bin" like I prefer it to be.
Herm: Right there.
Carl: Jesus. JESUS. DID YOU SIGN SOMEBODY?
Herm: He's a kicker.
Carl: WHAT ARE YOU DOING SIGNING PEOPLE? I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW ABOUT THIS.
Herm: Well you see I've been scrolling this Chiefs board, and he's apparently a pretty big name.
Carl: You KNOW I have to cut this guy now, right? We specifically talked about not signing him.
...
Carl: Herm?
...
Herm: You play to win--
Carl: GET OUT. OUT OUT OUT.
Herm: (running out of the room) whoooooop whoop whoop whoop whoop!


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