The title page looks cute at first sight, but it's full of warnings. Look at that psycho turtle. Look at its speed-riddled eyes. Look at how concerned rabbit seems. And how disinterested this walking ad placement of a quarterback is. This is just the beginning of this classic children's tale turned horror-story.
The story begins on a signature New England afternoon with Brady walking in ignorant bliss, head buried into his iPhone and up his ass at the same time. Hey, why don't you watch where you're going. 400 teens die each year from texting and walking. Nice example you're setting, douchebag.
Here's where the trouble starts. You got a clearly stoned and illiterate tortoise talking smack to the best quarterback of this generation who has suddenly become a medieval jouster: "I respectfully disagree" Brady says, "Shall we spar?" Nice idea, get into a street football match with a crackhead comic book character in the middle of the season. This should end well...
This one's fine. I won't go into the shitty stupidness of having a "special cell phone box" next to your bed or speculate why this useless piece of technology is planted here and never explained further. Whatever.
Now is where stuff really starts to get sloppy. Look how pumped this degenerate hat-wearing fuck is to get into Aesop's Tavern, a "particularly grimy local dive bar." Gotta love the line "preparation is for cowards," though.
Here's TB fingering his thermostat and winking at his 4 Super Bowl rings, which wink back in response (this makes no fucking sense, btw.) What an egotistical moron.
Meanwhile, Tortoise is getting slammed on "carrot juice" (ok?), while Hare just sits by his side and kills the goddamn buzz like always. Hey Hare, either leave or shut your bitching mouth.
Here's Brady preparing to jerkoff to his MVP trophy case. The text literally says, "At home, Tom prepares to smear his load all over his MVP trophy case. The trophies like it." Wow. Children's story, I think not!
At the bar, things have escalated, and Tortoise is now wielding a broken bottle and threatening to "murder [Mr. Squirrel's] whole family," while Hare nervously reminds him that his therapist has already warned him about this kind of behavior. Great, so now Tortoise isn't only an addict but he's clinically maladjusted. The big game against TB12 should be awesome.
TB has definitely just nutted here. *Not pictured, TB's wet boner.*
"Outside the bar, Mr. Tortoise received a citation for removing his shell in public." He will have to appear in court. Now this heroin-smoking, bottle-stabbing asshole has gone from assault to public indecency in the matter of a few scenes.
Mr. Hare just continues to eat random shit. He's clearly got his own problems.
Here's Tom masturbating again. Look at his creepy hand reaching out towards that freaked out owl. WTF is even going on anymore.
Drunk and high Tortoise then goes to see his ex-wife and verbally assaults her while Hare eats a baguette. Where does this goddamn rabbit keep getting all this food, anyway?
The next day they show up to play and Tortoise is strung out as fuck. He does a bunch of adderall to get him up to speed but he ends up just shitting into his helmet while Tom Brady watches indifferently. The game is called off, but honestly, what kind of shitty football contest were these guys getting into anyway? Tom has nobody to throw to and that rabbit has his good hand permanently attached to food items. Not to mention Tortoise could snap and gouge someone's eyes out at any second if he doesn't get his fix.
Instead of playing the game, they all decide to drink a bunch of molly water. Look how shithoused they are in this picture. TB's says "oh damn I'm gonna come so hard tonight," and Hare says, "I know right!" Tortoise is just yoinked off his ass like always.
Tom Brady ends the story with an Alexander Pope quote and they all go into dark, drug-induced states of depression for the next several days. When they wake up TB has missed the playoffs, Tortoise has missed his court date, and Hare is a brain-dead vegetable.