“Number Twenty Twenty-Two!”
“I’m Twenty Twenty-Two.”
“Your order is ready.”
“What’s this supposed to be?”
“It’s the baseball you ordered.”
“I asked for it by March 31. You made me wait an extra week. I suppose I should be happy you didn’t make me wait a week or more beyond that!”
“It’s the baseball you ordered.”
“Hell, I suppose I should be grateful you bothered to make it full-size.”
“It’s the baseball you ordered.”
“You apparently screwed around all winter before getting it ready.”
“It’s the baseball you ordered.”
“Do I smell universal DH? Because I have serious trouble digesting that [1].”
“It’s the baseball you ordered.”
“And it has these extra playoff teams I specifically mentioned I’m allergic to [2].”
“It’s the baseball you ordered.”
“Does it at least come without the seven-inning doubleheaders and unearned runners in extra innings? I swear I still have a bad taste in my mouth from the last time I waited longer than I should have. No, I don’t see it. Like you taking out what shouldn’t have been included in the first place constitutes some kind of bonus.”
“It’s the baseball you ordered.”
“What the…uniform advertising? Well, that’s just gross someone would even think to put that on there.”
“Look, pal, you want the baseball or not?”
“Of course. Gimme [3].”
[4]The Lockout apparently couldn’t end until the latest episode of National League Town took MLB to task. You can listen to Jeff Hysen and me kvetch effectively here [5].