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The Internal Steelers Struggle: Week 6 vs. Chiefs

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Me, Myself and I are back again. The loss to the Jaguars has cast a pall over the group — but they seem to have bigger problems than that today.

Jacksonville Jaguars v Pittsburgh Steelers Photo by Justin K. Aller/Getty Images

This week, Me (the rational one), Myself (the IRrational one) and I (half as bright as a two-watt bulb) prove they can have a somewhat constructive conversation — well, almost.

Sooo...that happened.

Uknown Narrator: [In a TV-Announcer voice] The Internal Steelers Struggle will not be seen today...

Me: Wait, what?

Uknown Narrator: ...due to technical difficulties...

Me: Techni-WHAT?! We’re voices in someone’s head! What “technical difficulties” can we possibly have??!

Narrator: stemming from the Steelers technically getting their posterior parts kicked all over Heinz FIeld...

Me: Waaaaaait a minute...

Uknown Narrator: ...instead, here is a video of puppies.

Me: I know that voice! [Walks angrily to the couch and looks behind it, seeing Myself]

Myself: We now return you to your regularly scheduled lunacy. [Smiles sheepishly and switches to his normal voice] no attention to the man behind the sofa?

Me: If you only had a brain, Scarecrow.

Myself: No, that’s your “Little Buddy” over there. [Points to I] I just have no heart.

Me: Well, you’re not in Kansas anymore, either. Get out here.

Myself: [Comes out from behind the couch]

Me: Why did you try to cancel us?

Myself: I don’t want to talk about that game.

Me: I don’t either. But getting it out is therapeutic.

Myself: I don’t need therapy.

I: I beg to differ.

Myself: Look, kid, quit using phrases you heard on television.

Me: Give him a break. He actually used it right.

Myself: Blind squirrels, know how it goes.

Me: Whatever. Let’s discuss that travesty of a football game.

Myself: [Crosses his arms] I don’t want to.

Me: Well, I’m going to start talking whether you like it or not.

Myself: [Angrily] Fine! We can talk about it. But give me a second before we do.

Me: Why? What do you plan to—

Myself: [Walks out]

Me: —do first? [Turns to I] He can really be annoying sometimes.

I: He’s annoying all the time. And mean.

Me: Did you watch the game?

I: No.

Me: Why not?

I: I was...busy.

Me: With what?

I: I don’t want to say.

Me: Why not?

I: [Hangs his head] It’s embarrassing.

Me: What could possibly be more embarrassing that when he tricked you into thinking that bowl full of sawdust was actually Grape Nuts?

I: [Glares at me]

Me: Come on, tell me.

Myself: [Re-enters room wearing a black suit, white shirt and necktie] He locked himself in his room.

Me: But how...I don’t...the...the lock is on the inside.

I: [Hangs his head] That’s why it’s embarrassing.

Myself: Okay, how are you going to defend your “Little Buddy” this time, oh White Knight?

Me: I...I got nothin’. [Looks closer at Myself and notices what he’s now wearing] Why are you wearing that suit?

Myself: I’m mourning.

Me: It’s football.

Myself: Exactly.

Me: It’s a game.

Myself: It’s the Steelers.

Me: Touche. So, what happened?

Myself: Todd Haley is the best defensive coordinator in history.

Me: He’s an offensive coordinator.

Myself: That’s funny, because he did an amazing job of preventing the Steelers from scoring points. Or moving the ball. Or looking like they even knew what a football is.

Me: It was pretty doggone bad. Five interceptions...I know one bad game is skewing his stats right now, but the only time Ben Roethlisberger threw interceptions at a higher rate was 2006 — the year he decided to put his face through the windshield of a Buick and later had his appendix removed just before the season started.

Myself: Maybe they should put it back. It might be an improvement now.

I: [Matter-of-factly, while eating a sandwich] He needs to stop staring down Antonio Brown every time he throws the ball.

Me & Myself: [Look at each other]

Myself: Did he just...makes sense...about football?!

Me: [Confusedly] Yeah...

I: [Mockingly, while still eating] “Don’t listen to I! He’s dumber than a brick of Jell-O! Ooooooh!”

Myself: Maybe we’ve been underestimat—

I: Oww!

Me: What’s wrong, Little Buddy?

I: [Wiping peanut butter and jelly from his forehead] I just poked myself in the eye with my sandwich!

Myself: Nevermind. We’ve been over-estimating him.

Is this fixable?

Me: Of course it is. It’s just peanut butter.

Mysterious Question Guy: Not that, you idiot. The Steelers.

Myself: That was weird.

Me: [Looking all around the room] Yo, Question Guy, wherever you are: you don’t get a speaking part between questions! It’s gonna confuse the audience!

I: [Suddenly looks scared] Audience?

Myself: [Leans over and whispers to Me] just broke the Fourth Wall.

Me: [With a worried look] What did you say?

Myself: ...what?

[Cue Twilight Zone music]

I: Do they see me when I’m getting dressed?!

Myself: [Attempting damage control] Nevermind! Ignore it! It never happened!

I: [Whispers with a horrified expression] Do they see me when I pee? [Slowly, conspicuously ducks behind the couch]

Myself: [Panicked] Now you’ve done it! You broke him! He’s gonna be impossible to live with from now on — you know that, right?!

Me: Just calm down. Everything is fine. Everything is just...[looks around slowly]...fine. Let’s just answer the question.

Myself: [Clears his throat and adjusts his tie nervously] Ummm...yeah, it’s fixable. They could start by replacing Haley with someone who doesn’t believe that the best way to victory is to attack your opponents’ strengths head-on, but the Rooneys are the most loyal owners in sports. That’ll never happen.

Me: [Still looking around the room now and then] So, what can they do?

Myself: Gameplan better, execute better. Everyone has to be bett—

I: [Still from behind the couch] They can still see me back here, can’t they?

Myself: [Kicks couch] Shut up, Kid.

Me: [Appears to be listening for something]

Myself: What are you doing?

Me: Waiting for the laugh track.

Predictions for Week Six?

Myself: The Steelers win a close game. 30-28. [Points at Me] And this Jackwagon finds a new way to freak out the Kid.

Me: You need to find some original insults.

Myself: What do you mean?

Me: That’s the second straight episode you’ve called me a “Jackwagon”.

Myself: [Sinisterly whispers] You...just...[suddenly gets very loud] did it again!

Me: [Facepalms]

I: [Whimpers from behind the couch]

Myself: [Breathes heavily] What’s wrong with you, Kid?

I: I’m scared to come out. I’m scared of...them.

Myself: So? Stay there, then.

I: ...I have to pee.