David Wells is staying. And I think that’s a bloody good thing.

I mean, just look at some of the bits in today’s Globe, jam-packed with Wells goodness, and tell me honestly that you don’t want this guy around:

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Wells was at [a] Rolling Stones concert [at Petco Park], sitting in ex-teammate Brian Giles’s box, when Jagger called out [Wellls’] name.

“Everyone just turned to me and said, ‘Did he just say what I thought he said? How do you know Mick?’

“We go way back.”

* * * * * * * *

“Take a dip,” Wells said, challenging his [7-year old son to chomp some tobacco].

The kid began to smile and walked away, stunned and not sure what to do.

Wells, turning back to the group, said, “He’ll puke his brains out.”

* * * * * * * *

On deciding to stay: “Having to fight City Hall, you get tired of it. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?”

Beckett, apparently, was the mayor of City Hall.

“That [expletive] over there,” Wells said, “bugging the [expletive] out of me every day.”

* * * * * * * *
I am thrilled to see Part Two of the David Wells era in Boston, and hope the dude really does end up hanging around for the full season. I mean, last year we got what I would consider “Boomer Lite.” Yeah, the guy gave us fifteen wins and proved — gasp — our ace down the stretch, but where were the antics? Okay, he gave us at least two cool meltdowns and threatened Bud Selig during a post-game interview. Pretty f–king awesome, yes. But I crave more.

If this is his last season in the bigs, as he’s threatening, then I think a complete balls-out adventure is in order. I’m talking showing up in drag on the days he’s not starting. Grabbing Hazel Mae’s melons with an audible “wonk! wonk!” during a live interview. Carrying around a David Wells puppet [complete with prop beer] that introduces each night’s post-game press conference. Pulling a reverse Andy Kaufman by creating a Tony Clifton-esque alter ego who is actually quite refined and prefers a monacle to wrap-around shades. Scrawling “Hey Remy” across his ass cheeks and pressing them against the broadcast booth glass during a NESN telecast. Handing out Jaegermeister shots to the fans behind the dugout. Wearing a bandolier of steaks during his starts, enabling him to gnaw fresh meat throughout the game.

I also think in Beckett and Wells we may have two dudes who, when brought together, are genetically coded to create mischief. How much longer ’til the two start making post-game Theater District hooker runs [“It’s okay, officer. They’re not for us. They’re for Timlin.”]? If they make the post-season, how about Boomer and Beckett recreating Clemens and Nipper’s “drunken Blues Brothers” routine [as seen in the now-infamous Bob Lobel interview back in ’86].

With Boomer in the house, the possibilities are endless.