The answer might be 10 short strides from Peyton Manning’s locker. Maybe the struggling quarterback should take a little walk to the side of the room where the Broncos are having all the fun.

On the side of the Denver dressing room where the defensive players hang out, there are no sacred cows. Everybody’s ego gets butchered in this band of irreverent football brothers. The good times roll all week long among the Broncos who play defense for coordinator Wade Phillips. The sacks and pick-sixes follow during the games on Sundays. It’s more than a coincidence.

Take a quick peek:

When Broncos linebacker Von Miller mentioned Tuesday that he exchanged uniforms with fellow Texas A&M alum Johnny Manziel after a game in Cleveland, the ears of cornerback Chris Harris perked up.

“Yeah,” said Harris, unable to resist the urge to give Miller a little grief about the stupid pratfalls Manziel cannot seem to avoid. “That uniform will be good for about another two weeks.”

Ouch. The direct shot at Johnny Football had to hurt.

WATCH: What is the best thing Gary Kubiak can do for Peyton Manning?

The playful jab by Harris might not have been 100 percent politically correct, but it sure was funny. In most locker rooms, from the preps to the pros, it’s laughter that builds team camaraderie.

This might be the place to mention they aren’t having enough fun down at Manning’s end of the Denver locker room. Yes, I get it’s not all grins and giggles when a Hall of Fame quarterback leads the league in interceptions and it sometimes seems as if the best offensive weapon for the Broncos is a punt, so that Harris or Aqib Talib can get back out on the field with the defense to create a turnover that leads to a quick-strike touchdown.

There are big personalities on the Denver defense. Phillips encourages them all to be themselves.

“This defense is very simple, and it allows us to go out and play free and make plays,” Denver safety David Bruton said.

I asked Talib what makes this defense so crazy good, and he replied with brashness dipped in swagger: “This is what John Elway paid us good money to do. He brought a great group of guys together, and we’re together both on and off the field.”

Orange Money. It spends anywhere, from Denver to Cleveland and can buy a victory anytime, even when hope appears lost.

The currency of Orange Money is the proclamation by Miller that the Broncos exert mind control on rattled foes. The foundation of Orange Money can be found in the silly knock-down, drag-out games of Connect Four the defensive players wage during lunch. The power of Orange Money is the belief this defense could be as good as the Legion of Boom from Seattle, Da Bears of 1985 or any legendary defense in NFL history.

“We’re trying to be better than them,” Harris insisted before adding: “Those legendary defenses that you name, I’m pretty sure they won a Super Bowl. That’s what it takes, man. We can have the top numbers all through the year, but if we don’t win the Super Bowl, we’re not legendary.”

It’s a blessing for an NFL team to have Manning, an all-time great quarterback and a better role model. But playing alongside Manning, the ultimate football nerd and unapologetic perfectionist, is not always fun.

As an offensive teammate, you don’t jump in the foxhole with Manning. You take orders. Manning is the grandmaster chess player. His offensive teammates are pawns. Peyton and the Pawns.

Well, it’s time to play a new game.

After Manning slipped a little farther over the hill against the Browns, it was cool when running back Ronnie Hillman tweeted a defense of his quarterback: “Ya need to get off Peyton that’s our QB bottom line. You fake fans don’t say anything when he is winning us the game …”

WATCH: Ronnie Hillman is wrong to call Broncos fans “frauds”

What Hillman did there, however, is yet another example of how Broncos consistently act subservient to Manning, as if they’re cowardly lions lucky to be in the presence of Oz the Great and Powerful.

Yes, coach Gary Kubiak needs to tweak his scheme to better fit Manning’s skill set. But what might also help is an offensive teammate daring to break the tension by cracking a joke about old No. 18 crushing Cleveland defensive back Donte Whitner with a pancake block, or being so bold to tell Manning to get his legendary head out of his chicken parm when he throws a dumb interception.

Manning is no longer Oz the Great and Powerful. He’s one of the guys. His Broncos teammates need to start treating Manning that way.

Instead of 10 teammates in the Broncos’ huddle hoping to please Manning enough to earn his approval, the Denver offense might be better served by lightly poking the legend in his achy, 39-year-old ribs and offering a hand to lift up the old quarterback.

Mark Kiszla: mkiszla@denverpost.com or @markkiszla