What the fuck is happening here? What are these perfectly smooth and featureless lumps that Cousins is bringing off the grill without so much as a single grill mark offending their brown-as-hell surfaces? Are these densely packed burgers? Misshapen, unidentifiable organs? Literal clay pigeons?

Apparently, he does this type of shit pretty often:

Once again, not a mark on them. The man loves his polished lumpsteaks.

Even the dog knows that this isn’t right, Kirk Cousins.