11:57 p.m. Eastern, Friday, October 28, 2011, in a subterranean lair in a secluded location in Jacksonville, Florida. Greg McGarity waits with an aide, who is holding a small black velvet box.
Aide: It’s almost midnight, sir.
McGarity: Don’t worry. He’ll be here.
The sound of approaching footsteps becomes audible. Soon, a door opens. Will Muschamp enters.
McGarity: Greetings, Comrade Muschamp.
Muschamp: Greetings, Comrade McGarity.
McGarity: You were careful not to be followed?
Muschamp: Yes, sir.
McGarity: Good. All is in readiness, then?
Muschamp: Yes, sir. Your instructions have been followed, to the letter.
McGarity: Yes, I have been most pleased with your work thus far. Using Charlie Weis’s NFL success as a pretext for hiring a man who has been a complete failure as a college coach to serve as offensive coordinator for a program whose innovative play-calling has flummoxed us for two decades. Causing widespread attrition from the hated Gators’ top-ranked recruiting classes. Losing three in a row and publicly guaranteeing a victory over Georgia, in order to shift the pressure finally from Athens to Gainesville. All this, while making constant derogatory statements about the Bulldogs, in order to throw any suspicious Florida boosters or media members off of your trail.
Muschamp: It disgusts me to associate with such people, and to mouth their reprehensible platitudes.
McGarity: You’re a professional, Comrade Muschamp, and you have proven your ability to serve Bulldog Nation well as a clandestine agent entrenched in the belly of the beast. Do you remember your time at Auburn?
Muschamp: Yes, sir, but the hated Gators turn my stomach.
McGarity: As well they should. What may we expect tomorrow?
Muschamp: I have devised a game plan that suits our needs precisely, Comrade McGarity.
McGarity: Special teams have been arranged as we requested?
Muschamp: Yes. Jeff Demps will have a 99-yard kickoff return to put the Bulldogs in a hole, and Blair Walsh will miss two field goals. I still don’t understand why you want our kicker to miss, though!
McGarity: Be careful, Comrade Muschamp; remember never to refer to Blair Walsh as "our" kicker in the presence of others. My reasoning, though, is that I want Comrade Richt to have reason to go for it on fourth down, and, if he knows he cannot rely on his placekicker, he will roll the dice and go for touchdowns instead of field goals.
Muschamp: That is brilliant, Comrade McGarity. I will see to it that Florida scores a touchdown on fourth down in the first quarter, in order to give Comrade Richt additional incentive to go for it.
McGarity: Excellent. Oh, regarding the kicking game, please make sure to miss a field goal and sideline Caleb Sturgis.
Muschamp: Of course.
McGarity: How are you going to handle the quarterback situation?
Muschamp: I’ll be going with John Brantley, who will be at less than 100 per cent. He’ll throw for 226 yards in the first half, but only 19 yards after that, and he’ll be sacked six times.
McGarity: Naturally. I mean, he has a high ankle sprain, and he’s been in a walking boot! What fools would think Brantley would be preferable to the talented young mobile quarterbacks behind him on the depth chart?
Muschamp: Florida fools, Comrade McGarity, Florida fools.
McGarity: Well said. Did you really mean that about Brantley being so ineffectual after the break?
Muschamp: Yes, Comrade McGarity. Given Comrade Grantham’s obvious superiority to that bloated imbecile Weis, such second-half dominance by the Bulldogs is to be expected. The Gators will manage only 32 yards in the second half, and Florida will be limited to minus-19 rushing yards for the day. We---I mean, Georgia---will earn 23 first downs to Florida’s eleven, will outgain the Gators by a 354-226 margin in yards of total offense, and will have possession of the ball for nearly 38 minutes. Oh, and the Gators will turn the ball over twice as often as the Bulldogs, though I suppose that goes without saying.
McGarity: That sounds very good. However, we would like this win to be as uplifting for us and as demoralizing for them as possible. Are you sure you can keep this one close if we so roundly outplay them?
Muschamp: Yes, sir. A 17-3 first-half lead will be orchestrated for the Gators, after which the Bulldogs’ natural superiority will reassert itself, and Georgia will dominate Florida, 21-3, thereafter.
McGarity: Perfect! And the Gators’ last play?
Muschamp: Jarvis Jones will sack John Brantley on fourth down, permitting Georgia to run out the clock and end the game with possession of the football on the Florida one yard line.
McGarity: Nice touch. Your work has been exemplary, Comrade Muschamp, and now . . .
McGarity turns to the aide, takes the box from him, opens it, and shows the contents to Muschamp, who is visibly moved.
Muschamp: I am deeply honored, Comrade McGarity.
McGarity: You have earned it, my friend. For your valiant service to Bulldog Nation, including eliminating the hated Gators from the Eastern Division race and saddling Florida with its first four-game losing streak since 1988, I have the privilege of presenting you with our highest award, the Order of Magill.
McGarity removes the medal from the box, pins it to Muschamp’s chest, and steps back. The two men salute one another, then shake hands.
Muschamp: Will you be remaining in town for the game tomorrow?
McGarity: I wish I could, but I have to be in Knoxville tomorrow.
Muschamp: Knoxville?
McGarity: Yes. I want to notify Comrade Dooley personally of your commendation, so I can tell him that, if he, too, hopes to earn the honor just bestowed upon you, he needs to beat South Carolina . . . and lose those garish orange pants.
Muschamp: I understand, sir.
The two men exit by different doors, and the scene fades to black.
Go ‘Dawgs!