In November 2014, I revealed the Conte conspiracy that took place in the game against the Packers at the end of the 2013 season. This year, Chris Conte used his diabolical talents (disguised as Dowell Loggains) to call a play that involved having Chris Conte (disguised as Jay Cutler) throw a pick-six to Chris Conte (cleverly disguised as Chris Conte). When will we learn, Chicago?! Get the dopplegangers out now before they take Leonard Floyd from us!
...The result: a completion for Rodgers and yet another bit of yardage to pad Jordy Nelson's stat line. But he didn't stop there--a review of the tape shows something much more insidious and threatening to the Bears organization: Conte, like Adam Jahns, is a mastermind fifth columnist.
In the second quarter, when the Bears are already down by 14, Conte moves to make a tackle but doesn't get there in time, instead allowing another player to make the tackle for him. Typical Conte approach: allow the opponent incremental yardage with the occasional big play where you can allow the opponent exponential yardage. Time and time again, Conte failed to seal the A gap on the line, and was one of the worst pass rushers of the team on a night characterized by terrible pass rushing.
Sure, it was garbage time, but did you notice what Conte did in the late third quarter when Jay was on the field? He went over to where O'Donnell was warming up for his next punt and he pulled a small device and a knapsack out of an equipment bag. The device was clearly a MDTY time machine although the precise model was difficult to determine because the camera kept cutting to watch Rodgers read knock knock jokes to the children of Green Bay in the stands to pass time. Conte then pulled a Mel Tucker disguise out of the bag and, if you freeze the game right before the Bears did that one embarrassing thing, you can clearly see him put the disguise on, set the dial to July 2013, and jump into the time machine. Seconds later he appeared from the machine as himself with a grin on his face and healed scars that he didn't have only moments before.
There is only one observation that can be made from all of this: the person we know as Mel Tucker is Chris Conte. Conte has taken the original Mel and hid him somewhere--I'm guessing an aqueduct in LA--and has begun a new start as a living time paradox. This explains why Mel-Tucker-Conte is so infrequently seen with Chris Conte; any type of activity together risks breaking down the time-space continuum and letting the Space Stablers into our plane of existence.
But, I digress. The important take away here is that Chris Conte has single-handedly become the architect, foreman, and builder of the world's most terrible defense. But that's not all. Consider the following details from Sunday's atrocity:
- Conte never once blocked for Forte, thereby ruining our running game.
- Conte never got open on a slant route, so Jay had limited options to throw to.
- Conte kept stepping on Mills' feet over and over and over during the national anthem.
- Conte did not serve as long snapper even once.
- Towards the end of the fourth quarter, Conte can be seen putting on a Heather Mendoza disguise and jumping into the time machine just to have the chance to sing the national anthem while simultaneously stepping on Mills' feet over and over.
So clearly, a witch hunt in the coaching staff is a poor option for long-term success. Rather, the Bears need to deal with a body-snatching, time-traveling doppleganger. This requires different skills than those available to Arians or Harbaugh; we need to hire Buffy Summers as Assistant Director of Pro Personnel and Monster Hunting.
We can't wait for season's end. We need to do it now. Conte still has the time machine and he still has the bag of disguises. It's only a matter of time before an entire stadium of Contes watch a team of Contes lose to the Lions while being watched at home by millions of Chris Contes.