Looks like they were paying attention up in Minneapolis when the Saints brought Dulymus back Friday.

Word on the street is that Gerald McRaney Brad Childress has also puchased for each member of the team a hockey stick inscribed with the motivational slogan: "Bleed all over 'em. Let 'em know you're there." It's brilliant, I tells ya. Personally, I'd have gone with "Walk down that stinkin' runway, open up that faggot robe and wiggle your dick at 'em!" But that's just me. That's probably what King Brett has planned for his press conference anyway.

Whatever else Chilly might have in store for this weekend, they're gonna need it, because we've so got this. Did you know that Reggie's career averages against the Vikings are: 93 yards from scrimmage, 176 return yards and 2 returns for touchdowns? Science!

Not to mention, if I might be so bold as to recycle some schtick quote my own historical insight from the last time the Vikings came to the Dome…

The Vikings… what a bunch of assholes. The original bleach blondes. Phony, romanticized heroes to all manner of Nazis, racists, fascists, and angry goth poseur teens chugging Carlsberg from skull cups whilst sporting sleeveless chainmail shirts and corpsepaint puchased with earnings from their part-time jobs at the local mall. With a legacy like that, is it any wonder that these phony-baloney seafaring thugs, not a single one of whom ever donned a horned helmet, were eventually vanquished by…… Catholics? Venerators of… the Saints? Yeah, that's right, bitches! Pwned.

¿Quién es más macho?

Oh sure, last time the Vikings came to the Superdome, it didn't work out too well for the Saints. On the other hand, the Saints were rollin' with Jason David and Marteen Gramatica at the time.

They outgained the Vikings 375-270. They were up by a touchdown in the 4th quarter. But the Saints turned the ball over 4 times and a certain greasy little fuckball had a field goal blocked for a touchdown. The Saints lost by 3.

To be fair though, the Vikings' quarterback that night was Gus Frerotte. It won't be Frerotte this Sunday, but it could very well be Tarvaris Jackson or Sage Rosenfels. It all depends on whether or not Childress is sufficiently supplicant in imploring King Brett to come on back for one more go, and whether or not enough media gather for Saturday's presser.

Chilly probably ought have thought through the inherent risk involved with this particular motivational tactic a little more thoroughly. Once you let Brett catch a glimpse of his tractor and his ole coon hound and slip on a pair of Wranglers, it can be difficult to get him to get up off his dropped tailgate and come back to work. Not for you, at least. If you're not careful, he might up and decide he's really a New York Jet at heart. By golly.

Or he might decide to take to take the offer on the table from the Eagles. They've been searching 30 years for somebody to take over so that they could finally tell Glenn Frey to shove it up his ass. But they've never been able to find anybody who could adequately replicate the soulful, brooding facial expressions which are crucial to fully establishing the mood during performances of "I Can't Tell You Why."

Oh sure, I suppose it's really more "You Belong To The City" than would be ideal, but it's close enough.

Unfortunately for Don, Timmy and Joe, Brett's not very good on the road. Don't believe me, just ask Chilly.

This year, Brett's 8-0 at home vs. 4-4 on the road. 412 fewer passing yards. Passer rating: 118.1 at home, 96.2 on the road. 21 touchdowns at home, 12 on the road. 2 interceptions at home, 5 on the road. He averages 51.5 fewer passing yards per game on the road. And 3 of Brett's 4 road wins were against Cleveland in week 1, Detroit in week 2 and St. Louis in week 5.

Brett's other road win was the much-ballyhooed "BRETT RETURNS TO LAMBEAU!!!" game in week 8. And who didn't see that coming, what with the shoving it up Ted Thompson's and Mike McCarthy's asses and all?

Fortunately for the Saints, no such special motivation exists for Brett this weekend. Oh sure, he's from southwest Mississippi, and I'm sure they all love him there. But that doesn't amount to a pile of shit when compared to the love they will forever have for Brett in southern Wisconsin.

The implication here is clear. The chances of Brett kicking ass and partying like it's 1996 diminish considerably the farther he gets from Canada.

Jerry Glanville figured this out 16 years ago, for crying out loud. How is it that this guy can't get a job in the League anymore?

Know who they love in Mississippi more than Brett? Dulymus. And can you blame 'em? Has Dulymus ever appeared on the official list of the biggest douchebags in human history? Not by a long shot.

Just throw it on the pile of ways Sean Payton is one step ahead of Brad Childress.

But don't take it from me. Ask Darren Sharper.

The 2009 Saints: Legend Killers. Soft tossin' country-fried rubes like it ain't no thang.

First Kurt, then Brett, and you just know it's gonna be Peyton after that. It just has to be. It's all just too perfect. How could it end any other way? This whole crazy ass season has been building up to precisely this climax. It might as well have spewed from the Powerbook of the laziest of Hollywood hacks.

The only difference is that this… this is for real.