This George Brett story might be the most singularly NSFW thing in baseball history

Folks, we have to warn you up front: This is not a story for the faint of heart or stomach. If you’re squeamish, prudish, bashful, or one of these people that thinks decorum still exists in this Mad Max dystopia we call 2020, you may want to exit the ride. After this point, there is no turning back. Are we all in agreement on this? Have you signed your waivers? OK, good. We are now pleased (and slightly nauseous) to present the most NSFW soundbite in baseball history. George Brett, good sir, please take it away.

We have an acronym for stuff like this in The Loop Slack: MW. It stands, simply, for “My Word”—something you say when there is nothing else to say.

The caption in the above tweet should get you rolling on Brett’s cut n’ dry case of TMI, but it doesn’t even scratch the surface of the tip of this gross-out iceberg, the Titanic-killing scope of which doesn’t fully reveal itself until Brett launches, unsolicited, into a story involving some bad Vegas crab legs and a leather jacket. George, didn’t anyone ever tell you that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Good God, have some mercy on these poor guys who are just trying to get a morning stretch in without hearing about your Dumb & Dumber-esque gastrointestinal odysseys.

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In the end, we would like to apologize for subjecting you to this. Maybe we shouldn’t have. But some burdens are simply too great to bear on your own.