UCF would beat Nebraska 100-0 right now on a neutral field.
Scott Frost would immediately be transported to Lincoln on a cloud of magical corn husks wrapped in transcendent glory, cherubim and seraphim flying about his glorious golden locks. Trev Alberts would meet him at the door of the stadium, go to one knee, and give him the keys of the program. The statue of Brook Berringer would wink as Scott walked by.
Mike Riley and Bob Diaco would offer themselves as human sacrifices in Scott's honor, but in his munificence he would grant them pardon, and they would live out their days telling stories in hushed voices of how they were the coaches who preceded Frost's triumphant return to Nebraska. Danny Langsdorf would never be seen alive again. Some say he took one look at Scott's playbook and vaporized in a puff of jealousy.
The Huskers would once again be the greatest team ever. Tanner Lee would, under Scott's tutelage, transform into a Pure Option quarterback, and would lower his shoulder to deliver the blow on every play - even on handoffs. Nebraska would end every game with the entire team looking straight into the camera, saying, "We want 'Bama," and they would mean it. At the end of the season we would dominate the playoffs, and when it came time to play 'Bama, they would politely decline, claiming they had to wash their hair - but we would all know they were just scared of Scott's team.
Frost would win the Big Ten Championship an unprecedented 17 straight years. Conference headquarters would move to Omaha (because it wouldn't be fair if it was in Lincoln). All future Husker games would start at 1:05pm Central Time like God & Bob Devaney intended.
Scott will not retire, but at the end of his life he will voluntarily lay himself down at the 50 yard line, where his soul will gently depart his body, which will never decay.
