The following is a brief dramatization of what we here at National Lampoon believe to have occurred at the home of Broncos QB Tim Tebow following Denver’s 29-23 overtime playoff victory against the defending AFC Champion Pittsburgh Steelers.

(Tim Tebow gets back to his Denver-area home to find Satan, horns and all lounging on his couch)

Satan: Hey, hey T-Bone! What’s going down my man?

TT: Jesus Christ! Who are you?

Satan: Come on, Tea Time. You know who I am. I’m George Burns. ( Satan quickly transforms into the deceased actor puffing on a cigar). I’m just kidding. (Switches back to Devil form). Pretty cool how I can do that though, eh?

TT: Satan? (Tebow grabs the crucifix around his neck) The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!

Satan: Take it easy, buddy. I’m not here to hurt you. After all, we’re old friends.

TT: What do you mean, old friends?

Satan: C’mon, that letter of intent to the University of Florida? That contract with the Broncos for millions of dollars. Who do you think you were signing a deal with? Those were all deals with me.  It’s not like Gainesville and Denver are the holy cities of Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Florida’s a party school, for god’s sake.

TT: I refuse to believe that.

Satan: How do you explain all of that success early on in college built on marginal skill. You think it was an offensive system and the fact that college competition isn’t nearly as skilled as the pros? Well, actually that was a big part of it– but there’s a reason I didn’t let you win 2 Heisman trophies.

TT: And what about those 6 miracle wins in a row we reeled off? I Tebowed, I mean, prayed every day for my lord and savior to make that happen.

Satan: Yeah, but what about those three consecutive losses when nothing happened?  That was me having a little fun at your expense. Sorry Timmy, the moment you signed those contracts, you’ve been all mine. Look kid, you’re a good athlete, but not that good. Your success in the NFL has been a mixture of dumb luck and me inhabiting the bodies of various defenders and taking plays off.  I like to watch out for my investments. Plus, Jesus has other things he has to work on fixing. Sometimes he’s working on helping starving kids and sometimes he’s attending Republican debates. In fact, he’s been in New Hampshire since last week.

TT: So you’re saying Jesus hasn’t been present at all? I don’t believe you.

Satan: Well, Teboner. The JC man got pretty busy, it being New Year’s ‘n’ all¬– and before that there was a big birthday celebration with all the frankincense and myrrh you could…well whatever it is you do with frankincense ‘n’ myrrh. Damned if I know. Anyway, it was a great party. But my point is, I’m Satan and frankly I enjoy playing games with people’s faith. It’s a hobby of mine. Sometimes JC shows up to sporting events, but he’s more of a casual observer and his favorite team is the Saints. So if he was going to help anyone it would be those guys. Or if Brady Quinn were starting in Denver, that might be a different story. That guy went to Notre Dame.

TT: But what about the 316 yards this week,? It made so much sense. John 3:16 is my favorite bible verse. “For god so loved the world, that he gave his only…”

Satan: Tim, you don’t have to recite it. I’ve heard you recite it hundreds of times. I know you know it.

TT: So you’re saying you’re the reason we made it into the playoffs?

Satan: Well, losing three straight games and somehow backing in over teams that are equally deserving even though you were completing between 2 and 9 passes a game…that doesn’t seem a little devilish to you?

TT: I can’t believe this is happening? What are you doing here? Why now?

Satan: Well TreeBoat, this guy (pointing to himself to indicate “the devil”) is in the details. I’m here to let you know that this is probably the end of the line for the Broncos and the  Tebow Express this season. I can’t in good conscience lead you to victory on this one. People might know something is up if you keep performing this way. Frankly, you’re getting too much press in the other direction and it’s making me look ineffective. Plus, I made a bet at a Vegas sports book last February at 5-1 odds on a Pats/Saints Super Bowl. Daddy needs a…well daddy doesn’t actually need anything, he just likes winning bets.

TT: (dropping to his knees and grasping the crucifix around his neck) Forgive me lord, for I have sinned against you and I’m truly sorry.

Satan: Don’t say you’re sorry. Sorry only counts in horsehoes and hand grenades or whatever. The J-man can’t hear you all the way in the Granite State. Anyway, T-Squared I’m glad I could come by to have this little talky-talk. Good luck against the Patriots. Remember Tim, this is your time to shine. Also, I should tell you this is your only way out of the contract since it stipulates that if you beat the Patriots on your own in the playoffs, you’re a free man. But if I had to guess, I’d say you probably can’t do this even though you’ve seen this defense before. Oh, and I’ll be around next season to fulfill my end of the contract that says I’ll eventually getting you to the Super Bowl by your fourth season– time-permitting with that whole Mayan calendar thing.

TT: Satan, with my lord and savior as my guide, I shall defeat you and the Patriots this season.

Satan: Well, I wouldn’t go that far with Belichick on the other sideline , but I do have some advice to improve your performance.

TT: Oh yeah, what’s that?

Satan: Well, if you want to play a little bit more relaxed in a high pressure situation such as this, I highly recommend you do a little rubbing of the little QB’s helmet prior to game time.

TT: Masturbation is a tool of the devil!

Satan: Tell me something I don’t know, buddy. Either way, it’ll stop you from being so tense. You can’t go out there with your throwing shoulder all wound up tight-like. It’ll improve your passing motion. Loosen up there T-Bone. That is the key, so sayeth ol’ lucifer. Alright, I gotta go be the mascot at a hockey game in New Jersey.

The ground opens up slowly fades into a black shadow we can overhear him speaking under his breath.

Satan: (mumbling) poor kid doesn’t stand a chance.

TT: Begone Satan! (Satan is gone but a black hole remains in the middle of the room) Satan?

END SCENE