It would have to look like some post apocalyptic or hangover style scene. The Mountain West brass steps down off the plane in Fargo and wonders what hellscape they landed in. Surely this isn’t an airport, it a pasture that the pilot had to make an emergency landing in. The wind smacking them in the face wreaks of cow patties and hot dish. They squint to try and make sense of it all.
They are greeted by the bizon mobile. It’s a green and yellow knock off of the famous weinermobile, 3 times as wide and half as long. It’s retrofitted with extra wide comfort seats that the brass mistake for a couch, sitting 3 to a seat. Their driver adorned with a mullet and offering them pregame delicacies of bratwurst wrapped in bacon and served with a cold Miller Lite. Nothing but the finest he says. Their tour takes them quickly to campus where the streets are lined with signs with all sorts of ugly buffaloes and #peakmountainwest. The brass notes how even these colors and mascots make Wyoming look stylish.
After the 5 minute lap around the campus, they head to the stadium. Brass confused as to why they had to leave campus for the game ask why the offsite stadium? More space needed for all the tailgating and seats in the stadium? The dread of realizing they are not on a bench but a single seat hits them as hard as the smell of stale onions and potatoes they see from last weeks game under the front seat. The driver answers with oh ya know, we rent this from the city, so we could afford an indoor practice barn. Terror across her face, the leader turns and whispers to the others, “we’re not in Kansas anymore Toto.
They roll up to the parking lot where they are greeted by the bison faithful. Before getting through even half the crowd they all turn to each other and agree to make a run for it. They are never seen from or heard from again.