I, Jerry Jones, Great Owner, Owner of Owners, Ruler of Dallas, Fort Worth, and Irving, and of regions across the pan handle, conqueror of Iggles, destroyer of Dedskins, have hired many players and trainers and coaches and assistant coaches and errand peoples to serve in my quest for another Super Bowl triumph.  Great was the craft of those that served with the terrific Coach Tuna, and great was their number, which was in the hundreds maybe thousands (give or take a few job-shoppers and free agents).

They strove mightily too, for they knew employment would be brief if they strove not mightily.  All in the pursuit of my Super Bowl glory.  But many games did pass, and many times dem Cowboys did win victoriously, but my next Super Bowl eluded me.

So I, Jerry Jones, Owner of Owners, and all that, did hire a new Lead Coach for my staff of coaches as it was thought that a kinder and friendlier atmosphere for dem Cowboys would be just the ticket to my Super Bowl.  The name of my new Lead Coach was Wade, but I simply addressed him as "the lil Bum".  Furthermore, as incentive for dem Cowboys and my legions of Big D worshippers I did hire many Designers of Structures and Makers of Buildings to wrought me plans of a house worthy of my Texas sized fanaticism and intelligencia.  All who gazed upon what the Designers of Structures and Makers of Buildings had crafted did marvel at their genius, and I, Jerry Jones, did also look thereon and declare their plans to have much nift.

And the name of my capital development project would become "Texas Stadium Number 2", or as I refer to it, "The Big Building That I Builded."  The Big Building is to be big enough so as to be visible from orbit, and the Big Budget of the Big Building is just as big.  Construction began and the Big Building began to rise in the heart of Texas, and I looked upon my creation with great pride and proudness

So I, Jerry Jones, Great Owner, did hie me to the training complex where dwelt my new Lead Coach and my staff of coaches and assistant coaches to see what progress was being made with my team, and there I found not coaches and assistant coaches but drinkers of coffee and talkers of ####.  I was flabbergasted and flummoxed not to mention angry as an f'ing hellhound.

"Look here, O Fearless Leader," spoke thusly the Lead Coach (aka the lil Bum).  "Some things can't be rushed, for can thou win thy Super Bowl without us?"

Fumes did rise from my ears and blood did boil into my face, but I did remain compositional.  "What more do you require to win me a Super Bowl?  Name what is required and you will have it."

"O Jerry, Great Owner of Owners, etc. pay substantial moneys to keep the employment of my OC and my QB," saith the lil Bum as he refilled his cup of coffee.  "And maybe dining utensils of silver and electrum for our cafeteria, as it is common knowledge that Cowboys with full bellies are Cowboys with full dedication."

"You shall have all of that, just get my Super Bowl team builded."  And I, Jerry Jones, Owner of Owners, Ruler of Dallas, did depart the training complex where dwelt my coaches and assistant coaches with Rogaine lightning crackling from my hair follicles.

And many games did pass, and many times dem Cowboys did win victoriously, yet my team looked not mighty in status nor Super Bowl in quality.  My opponents did not tremble before my team as I had desired.

So I, Jerry Jones, did ask my Lead Coach, "What goeth on here?"

The lil Bum stopped partaking of his cheeseburger and said, "O Great Owner, Owner of Owners, my quarterback has become beguiled by the ways of a vixen by the name of Jessica Simpson.  Verily when she is near, he is a man not of swift feet and clear mind but rather a man of ten thumbs and wood in his britches."

So I, Jerry Jones, Great Owner of Owners, Ruler of Dallas, gave certain orders to keep Miss Simpson away from my prized quarterback so as to keep his mind focused upon my Super Bowl and not on Miss Simpson's Super Breasts.

And many days did pass, and my team seemed ready and able, yet disastrously the demise came suddenly in an ugly playoff skirmish against the G-men from that decadent Apple City.  And many days after that defeat did I rant and rave as does a lunatic, and many times did the moon wax and wane as I sleeplessly lamented my failure.

So then I did seek out my team's OC named Jason from my staff of coaches, since he seemed to know what's what about football, and I asked, "How come no Super Bowl?"

And he did answer, "O Great and Wealthy Owner, I be limited of playcalling available for my offense."

"Well, craft more plays to be called!"

"I have, O Great One, but my offense has not the ability to perform my plays."

"So?"

"So add another RB to my roster, O Great Owner, a special RB that possesses a fleetness of foot and a toughness of spirit so as to compliment our QB and our TO."

I, Jerry Jones, Ruler of Dallas, did then demand that a special Running Back be drafted, preferably one that possesses fleetness of foot and allegiances to Arkansas.  My far reaching scouts and network of spies tell me this cat named Felix will be just the ticket to my Super Bowl, and for the sake of my staff of coaches I hope this to be true.

Because I can avouch that if another Super Bowl failure is in my future, my Lead Coach and my staff of coaches will become permanent residents among the concrete foundation of the new Big Building That I Builded.  Thou can take that to the bank.

And God Bless dem Dallas Cowboys.  Can Jerry Jones get an Amen?