Woman in Boston Harbor: Help! Help!
Edgah: ::jogging by::
Woman in Boston Harbor: Sir, help me!
Edgah: No Englais.
Woman in Boston Harbor: For the love of god, PLEASE.
Edgah: Eh. Alright. ::dives in::
Woman in Boston Harbor: I’m over here. Here!
Edgah: I know, I know… I can’t really swim.
Woman in Boston Harbor: Then we’re DOOMED.
Edgah: Wait. Er. Ack. ::flails arms helplessly:: No, I can’t.
Woman in Boston Harbor: Help!
Dale Sveum in speedboat: I saw what happened! Don’t worry… I’m here! Listen, head that way! ::starts waving them to the left:: That way!
Woman and Edgah in Boston Harbor: YOU F–KING IDIOT! YOU JUST WAVED US INTO THE UNDERTOW. AAAHHHHHHGGGGGGG.
Dale Sveum: Oh no. Oh no. Gotta call the coach.
Francona on shortwave radio: Svuem? The season’s over. What the hell do you want?
Dale Sveum: Code 3231, sir. Woman drowning and Edgar dove in to save her. Now they’re both screwed.
Francona: Dove? You sure it was Edgar?
Dale Sveum: Sir, they’re in trouble. What can you do?
Francona: I’m doing what anyone in my shoes would do. I’m sending in Mike Timlin with a jetpack.
Timlin with a jetpack: Not… enough… juice… can’t… make… ::splashes into Boston Harbor::
Woman and Edgar and Timlin: Help!
Gammons on the shore: This is really the most fun this team’s been since last October.
Nomar: I know. Hey, what are you doing here anyway?
Gammons: Heck, I just like to leer at the joggers while they stretch. Hey, there’s one.
Nomar: ::looking:: Ooh.