SamPer_Fi: All right Terry, it's the 8th and we're down 4-6. Nick Markakis is on second base, Miguel Tejada is at the plate. The count is 3 balls, 0 strikes, and there are no outs. What do we do? |
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MisterCrowley: I think we should be aggressive. Hit and run. Send Markakis to third on contact and if Miggy hits the ball far enough, we're only a run down and we've still got no outs. |
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SamPer_Fi: what are you, illiterate |
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MisterCrowley: /lowers head what do you think we should do |
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SamPer_Fi: Tejada is getting cocky at the plate, we don't need someone with confidence swinging at the ball with runners in scoring position. Put in Eider Torres. |
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MisterCrowley: but we've only got one Torres on the team |
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SamPer_Fi: Okay, he'll be fine. He's batting negative .007 with runners in scoring position. Plus, he's in the minor leagues, so he'll have to drive here, and that will give us a long time out. |
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MisterCrowley: so you're saying that for every 1,000 at bats, Eider Torres gets zero hits and gives up seven hits for the other team? |
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SamPer_Fi: wait, did you just see Nicky cough? /covers eyes with hands There, he did it again |
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SamPer_Fi: Take him out. We need a pinch runner. Bring in a pinch runner! Eider Torres! Get in and pinch run! |
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MisterCrowley: You can't put Eider Torres in to pinch run, you just put him in to pinch hit. And he's not even here yet. You're talking to the bat rack. |
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SamPer_Fi: Ramon Hernandez, get in there! |
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MisterCrowley: Ramon Hernandez isn't here either. He's on the DL with a groin contusion from repeatedly punching his own dick, per your instruction. |
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SamPer_Fi: What a peckerhead! How about Ron Santo? |
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MisterCrowley: Ron Santo doesn't play for us, he doesn't play for anybody. He played for Chicago in the seventies. His battle against diabetes was the subject of a documentary, entitled This Old Cub. |
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SamPer_Fi: He can't come in to pinch run? |
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MisterCrowley: He has had both of his legs amputated below the knee as a result of said diabetes. |
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SamPer_Fi: He can't come in to pinch run? |
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MisterCrowley: what, do you want me to tie a bullrope around his waist and ask Dave Dravecky to drag him around the bases? |
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SamPer_Fi: Who the fuck is Dave Dravecky? DRAVECKY! WHERE ARE YOU? /glances around wildly Dravecky, I'm calling your name, raise your hand! Get in the game, you're helping Santo pinch run! |
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| MisterCrowley: /closes eyes | |
MisterCrowley: /walks to clubhouse telephone |
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SamPer_Fi: /squints eyes Why is the game stopped? Why are you all standing around? What's going on? |
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| MichaelTehader: you just took off your pants and tossed them onto the field. frankly everyone is a bit perturbed | |
SamPer_Fi: What, no I didn't /looks down at underwear shit, I did |
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SamPer_Fi: Oh, God! My own penis reminds me! Crowley, when the next inning starts, give Eider Torres a stack of hundred dollar bills and send him in to pitch. |
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SamPer_Fi: Yes, Eider Torres is the new key player in our Billionaire's Club Bullpen of d00m and f34r! Crowley! |
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SamPer_Fi: Crowley! Where the hell are you? |
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MisterCrowley: /hangs up phone I can't do that, Sam, I'm a hitting coach. And guess what? You can't do it either. You're fiiiiireeeeeddd!! |
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| SamPer_Fi: What! Says who! | |
MisterCrowley: Sorry, I just got off the phone with Pete Angelos. I told him you were Persian. Sorry, Sam! /blows into party favor |
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| SamPer_Fi: This is a big mistake! You'll never find someone to do the things I did for this team! It'll be a long, arduous search into the DEPTHS OF HELLL | |
| girardi_and_cola: hey guys what's going on on this team | |
| MisterCrowley: Sorry again, Sam, we've already found your replacement. | |
| MisterCrowley: everyone please welcome skeletor | |
| HelterSkeletor: hee hee hee hee! FOOLS! | |
| girardi_and_cola: oh, sorry, i'll just be over here sitting quietly if you need me for anything | |
| MichaelTehader: son of a bitch orioles i swear to god |