Satan hand delivers

Michael, bring this to Dan and crush his will. Muahahahahahaha!!!
I fear the dark powers at play here. On Friday, I received a mysterious visit at my office from Jeff and Mike, asking if I had received my game yet (obviously a sympathetic visit in response to my previous post). Jumpy and nervous, they refused to actually come in, as if afraid to cross the threshold. Mystified by my negative response, they quickly rushed off leaving me to ponder the events. Was this some sort of clairvoyance of bad vibes, or perhaps just the Red Bull coursing through their veins?
A short time later I went to my mailbox at the behest of Jeff, perhaps expecting some treats from the Praecis Bake Sale. What I found, though, was no cookie. The faint odor of brimstone assaulted my nose as I neared my mail slot, and with trembling hands removed the unmarked package inside. No sooner had I picked it up than the theme song from COPS began pounding through my brain. A quick slice of my knife freed the beast from its confines, and Bad Boys: Miami Takedown was thrust upon my soul.
I did not have a chance to load it up this weekend, but rest assured that I will feed this wretched abortion of movie merchandising the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch faster than you can count to 5 (3, sir), I mean 3.
Thank you, Mike.