Transcribed from: Comedy CentralCast-
Transcribed by: Laura Cihocki
[Buddy's bar. Scott sits on his customary stool.]
- Scott- Buddy Cole
- Dave- Patty
- Bruce- Shona
- Kevin- Sylvia
- Mark- pitcher for Pandora's Jox
- Woman- umpire
Scott: Ever since I quit smoking, I've had a renewed interest in athletics. Well, athletes. That's why when my friend Opal asked me if I would...asked me if I would manage her lesbian softball team while she was away fighting in the gulf--she's a sailor--I said yes. But I made it completely clear to Opal and the rest of the girls that when I say "manage," I mean the whole ball of wax. That means pitching, catching, running, hair, wardrobe, attitude...
[Scott picks up a sketchbook from the floor at looks at it as he continues.]
Scott: This was my design for the team uniform. But the women said it was too--get ready for this--girly. [He turns the book around and shows his drawing to the camera. The "uniform" features a wide-shouldered vest, pleated skirt, knee socks, and a long-brimmed cap with a pompon.] As if anything can be. Oh, well, to be unappreciated in one's own lifetime! [He puts the book down.] So, even though our uniforms were drab, at least the game proved to be exciting. In fact, it proved to be positively fiiiiiiiiiiilmiiiiiiiiiiic.
[Scott spins a finger in the air and the view begins to spin as it cuts to a close-up of a scoreboard. The score shows that the Jox are beating the Sluggers 3-0.]
Scott (V.O.): For the first eight innings, it seemed hopeless. Then, all of a sudden, bang-bang-bang! The bases were loaded, and our batter already had two strikes against her--what next?
[Cut to the baseball field. Dave is assuming a batting stance at the plate.]
Scott: Come on, Patty! Hit that round white leathery thing all the way to the great white way! Then just run the bases and...don't make a big to-do about it! Come on, Patty, let's play ball!
[Mark pitches. Dave swings and misses, and his hat falls off.]
Woman: Strike three! Yer out!
[The Sluggers boo; one yells, "What do you mean, a strike?" Bruce gets off the bench and strides toward the plate.]
Scott: Let's go, Shona! Come on, Tiger! Let's show them who's boss! Yeah! Okay, Shona, this reminds me of the time that Coco Chanel and I had this HUGE disagreement over what to wear to DeGaulle's funeral. And I said, "I'm not even going." And she said, "You're gonna--
Bruce: [interrupting] Buddy, not now. I'm trying to concentrate.
Scott: Well, excuse me for coaching. Pitcher's got a rubber wrist! Come on....yeah, have an eye!
[Scott continues to yell while Mark pitches. Bruce swings and misses.]
Woman: Steee-rike one! [Another swing and miss.] Stee-rike two! [One more swing.] Stee-rike three, you're out! [Bruce throws the bat down on home plate, and heads back toward the bench. Mark screams in triumph.]
Scott: [intercepting Bruce] Martini? [He offers Bruce a glass.]
Bruce: Get off my back, Buddy.
Scott: [to the camera] That one's got a chip on her shoulder the size of Yankee Stadium. Okay, let's see, who's up to bat? Looks like it's...Sylvia!
[Kevin, who has a black eye, one arm in a sling, and a broken sock strap, limps toward the plate, using a bat as a cane.]
Scott: Okay, Sylvia.
Kevin: Time for me to strike out and lose the game for everyone.
Scott: Let's go, Tiger!
[Kevin staggers to the plate and stands there swaying. Mark smears petroleum jelly onto the ball, from a jar concealed in his mitt.]
Scott: Two down...bottom of the ninth...bases are loaded...God, I love cliches. Hang on, Sylvia! Give me that stick!
Kevin: But you're a man!
Scott: Labels. [He passes behind a changing screen and emerges wearing the uniform from his sketchbook, with the number 01 on the back. He walks to the plate, where a stool has appeared, and sits down after dusting off the stool by blowing on it. He raises the bat in one hand and rests it on his shoulder.] Ready.
[Mark pitches. Scott watches it go by.]
Woman: Steee-rike one!
Scott: It had attitude.
[Another pitch, with no swing.]
Woman: Steee-rike two!
Scott: I was thinking of something else.
[A third pitch. Scott swings and connects. The ball flies up into the sky, and the Sluggers jump up and cheer.]
Scott: Touchdown! Hold this; I'll be back. [He hands the bat to the catcher and strolls, twirling, to first base.] First! [He turns a cartwheel and comes up holding a lit sparkler in each hand.] Ta-da! [He prances and twirls to home, then tosses the sparklers away and catches a bouquet of flowers.] There's no place like home. [He clicks his heels three times while standing on home plate. Cut back to the bar. A dummy, dressed in Scott's "girly" uniform, sits against the wall with a a bowl in its lap, labeled with a sign that reads, "Condoms & Dental Dams--Take one." The team is sitting around Scott at the bar.]
Kevin: I can't even believe it, Buddy!
Kevin: I've never seen anyone hit a ball like that before!
Bruce: Ah, it wasn't so great. You were lucky!
Scott: [gasping and pointing upward] Look, girls! [The girls scream as they see the ball flying toward them. Scott reaches up and catches it right before it hits Bruce in the face.] Oh!
Bruce: Gee, thanks, Buddy!
Scott: That could've been nasty! [He looks at the ball, which is stamped with various world visas.] This ball's been around more than I have! Stick with me, girls! We're going all the way to the [in French] pendant! [He raises his glass.] To Sappho's Sluggers!