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!