I’m here today at Ralph Wilson Stadium in Orchard Park, N.Y.; home of the Buffalo Bills. The jerk’s owner Linda has called me to the game because she can no longer control her jerk. The jerk and his pack are all dancing shirtless in snowy twenty-degree weather. This Buffalo Bills game is being televised so that means anywhere from twenty to thirty people may be watching, and Linda is concerned that someone may recognize her.

Her jerk, an Italian-Baboon mixed breed, and his pack have spelled out “Go Bills” on their beer bellies. Each belly has one letter printed on it, even though any of them could hold the US constitution written in print large enough to be read from space. The fact that they actually spelled out “Go iBlisl” doesn’t seem to bother them. Or any Bills fans for that matter. That’s why she has called me. I’m the Jerk Whisperer.

I train people and rehabilitate jerks. Or is it the other way around? Anyway, I explain to Linda that under normal circumstances the jerk is only using about ten percent of his brain at any given time, to which she replies “Duh.” What she doesn’t realize is how the ten percent actually works. Dogs learn first by scent, then sight then speech. Jerks learn by sight (called ogling) then mouth (I gotta get me some of those) then mental (What? What is she mad at?).

The proper sequence for controlling your jerk is 1. Exercise 2. Training 3. Reward. But most jerk owners have it backwards. While the game is the reward, most jerk-owners triple the reward by letting him go to tail-gate parties before the game and drink lots of beer. After that, the jerk is not receptive to any form of training, including toilet training. His exercise will consist of the aforementioned baring of his behemoth belly and trying to pick up the Buffalo Jills cheerleaders from twenty rows up.

I begin his rehabilitation by exercising him before the next game by making him walk to the game. If this is an away game in Seattle all the better.

After arriving at the stadium it is then time for training. This consists of having the jerk walk past the cheerleaders at the turnstiles without drooling, barking or having his tongue hang out. For the first few tries this usually requires a collar and a muzzle. I prefer an electric collar as it lessens the strain I have to put on the leash. After a few passes and more than a few jolts, the jerk now associates sex with pain, which will enable his owner to rest easier at night.

Then it is time for the reward. He should sit there fully clothed, sipping a diet coke, and cheering at the appropriate times. This includes a polite cheer when the Bills take the field, and an even larger cheer when they leave.

Well, my work is done here. I give Linda some further advice about the benefits of neutering her jerk, then head off to hang with the Jills. I am the Jerk Whisperer.