[photoshop by the racially tolerant TZilla]

Scene:  The interior of the Kowalski home.  Walt Kowalski, Korean War vet and blatant racist, sits in his living room chair and is finishing off another can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, his 5th or 6th of the afternoon (he refuses to count), as he cleans the barrel of his old M1 Garrand.  His faithful dog Daisy lays at his feet.  Suddenly theres a knock at the door…

 Who the hell is it?  (He gets up and walks toward the door)  I swear to God if its another one of you slanty-eyed gook sons-a-bitches coming to bring me more of that boiled alley cat, or whatever the hell it is you slopes eat, I will absolutely lose my shit.  (Walt slings open the front door).  Whaddya want?!

Hey, Walt.  It’s just me, Andy Kennedy.

Andy, you drunken Irish prick, what do you want?  Those spooks you been coaching giving you a hard time?

You shouldn’t say stuff like that Walt…No,they’re actually great kids…aside from the fact that their knees are apparently held together by gumdrops and salt water taffy…but great kids…but that’s beside the point.  I’ve got real problems.

Is that kike of an athletic director giving you a hard time?

No, no…he’s actually been pretty supportive as of late. Its been a pleasant surprise.   And Im not sure he’s Jewish, Walt.

He is Andy, just trust me on that.  I know a no good penny pinching sheeny when I see one.

Ok, whatever you say Walt.  Listen, I need some advice.  I got myself in a little trouble recently and I need a little guidance.

Andy you stupid mick bastard, what’d you go and do now?

Well, see, its a long story.  I was in Cincinnati.  We were getting ready to play Rick Petino’s team and…

Petino?  That Guinea mother fucker.   I bet that pussy smells like Brut cologne and cooking oil.

Well yeah, but that’s irrelevent to the story… Look, I was coming out of a bar the night before the game and I got into a cab with our coaches when the cab driver starts getting all racial and screaming at me and calling all of us awful names.  He locked us in the car.  I hit the guy Walt.  I could lose my job over this.

Damn savages.  Terrorists in our midst I tell you.  Did you at least call that asshole a towel head or a camel jockey or something you pussy?

Well yeah, I called him a sand nig…Look,that’s not important. Im in deep trouble here Walt.  I really need your hel…

(Walt slams the door in Andy’s face)

Wait, Walt, what am I supposed to do here.

(Yelling through the door)  I don’t know you pot licking pussy.  Tell your wife to sue Punjab for loss of consortium or some magical hymie lawyering trick like that.  I aint got time for this shit.  I got my own problems.  I mean do you see all the zipperheads and nips moving into this neighborhood?  Now beat it.