**OnlineHost** You have entered the Kansas City Royals Clubhouse chatroom.

**OnlineHost** The clubhouse has fallen into disarray and is now an indoor shantytown of sorts. Some players huddle around a campfire playing old-world melodies with flutes and fiddles; others throw dice against a wall. Makeshift tents have been thrown together with uniforms and grounds-crew tarp.

mikes_weeney: /rubs eyes, ducks out of tent

What is it, Emil?

HTEmil: Sweeney! Them Bullpen Boys are doin' me wrong again! Gil Meche is gonna lay waste to m' saloon!

mikes_weeney: The saloon you made with blankets and chairs.

HTEmil: That's the one! Yessir!

mikes_weeney: Look. There's nothing I can do.

HTEmil: But you're the Captain! Someone's gotta do somethin' in this town!

mikes_weeney: My mod privileges are gone. I don't know what you're asking of me.

HTEmil: /looks on helplessly

GilgaMeche: TIME FOR GIL THE BUTCHER TO GET HIS GOOD AN PROPUR

/pillages chair-fort saloon

GilgaMeche: NEXT TIME YOU RUN CROSS THE BULLPEN BUYS DONT NEVER BE EMPTY HANDED

/knaws on raw steak

GilgaMeche: AND NOOOO ONE

/points crude billy club

SHALL SEEK VENGEANCE, ELSE HE DIES

BY MUYYYYYYYY HAND

**OnlineHost** PECOTA has entered the chatroom.

GilgaMeche: NOW WHO'S THIS WHO'S TOOK GOOD FUR GIL TH' BUTCHAR'S LEAVINS

EVERYBODY OWES EVERYBODY PAYS

PECOTA: HMM

WOULD YOU LIKE! TO BE A BLUEBIRD OR A SPARROW

GilgaMeche: SAVE YOR GYPSY TRICKS, IMMIGRANT RUBBISH

PECOTA: OK

**OnlineHost** PECOTA has decked Gil Meche in the jaw, knocking him out cold.

PECOTA: /raises dukes

DESPITE MY UNDERSTANDING; OF GOOD MAJICK! I CAN STILL THROW THEM THANGS!

PECOTA: /surveys indoor shantytown

WHAT! IN THE NAME OF SAMUEL HORN IS GOING ON HERE

mikes_weeney: I can't keep this place in order. It's lawless. Our manager's quitting, I'm no longer the chat room moderator, and our owner isn't giving us any money.

PECOTA: WHAT

/overturns tents and tables

PECOTA: THIS SHALL NOT BE! A TEMPLE OF THIEVES AND MISERY!

LOOK! LOOK!

PECOTA: /points to locker

THIS! IS WHERE THE UNDERAGE BRET SABERHAGEN ENJOYED HIS FIRST TASTE OF PLAYOFF CHAMPAGNE!

PECOTA: /points to wall

AND THIS! IS WHERE THE BO JACKSON TOOK HIS FIRST STEPS!!!

PECOTA: NEVER AGAIN! SHALL WE DEBAUCH THIS CONTEMPORARY CATHEDRAL!!!

OhNoYouTeahen: /tosses ledger of gambling arrears in fire

DontMatter2DeJesus: /begins to disassemble whore-tent

duckworth: /crawls discreetly out back

PECOTA: WHAT! WERE YOU DOING IN THERE; MR. DUCKWORTH!

duckworth: i uh

PECOTA: COCK COCK COCK COCK COCK, MR DUCKWORTH!!!

mikes_weeney: Hey, leave the gay jokes alone. There's nothing wrong with being gay, and there's nothing funny about

mikes_weeney: pfff hahaha ok cocks are funny

HTEmil: Mr. Pecota! Y'saved my saloon, sir! Lemme hand y'a drink!

/hands y'a drink

PECOTA: THANK YOU!

GLUG! GLUG! GLUG!

HTEmil: Made it w/ pine tar, chaw, and rosin! Best moonshine in th' territory!

PECOTA: WAIT WHAT

GURK

/tripping balls

PECOTA: ...

...

...

PECOTA: /springs to feet

I MUST! TO ASSEMBLE MY POSSE; MY RIGHT AND LEFT FISTS!

THIS FORTNIGHT!

THE DAVID GLASS

SHALL BLEED BLUE!!!!

PECOTA: /mounts bike

iHYAH!

**OnlineHost** PECOTA has wheelied out of the chatroom.

duckworth: aw maaan i gotta get a drink of that shit

/takes gulp

duckworth:

...

...

...

duckworth: brandon duckworth tries, but fails