“Johnny. Something’s wrong.”

“What is it? The batteries go dead?”

“Take that off. This isn’t fun time. This is serious.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“I just realized something. Back in Boston, you were the cute one.”


“Well, now… you know. Jeter.”

“Derek Jeter? The cute one? Cuter than me?”

“Not in my eyes, of course. But you know how the newspaper people love him.”

“Cuter than me? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I know. What will we do?”

“I’ve got to talk to someone.”

::One phone call later::

“Yeah, see, I had the same problem. Davy was the cute one. Everyone just loved that little limey bastard.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well, we all just kinda did our own thing. Davy was the cute one. Peter was the dumb one. I was the ‘smart’ one. Or, as was later discovered, the ‘talented’ one.”

“This has been enlightening, Nez. Thank you.”

::Later, at Yankees HQ::

“Hey, John. What’s with the books?”

“I’m into reading. It’s my new thing. I guess you could say I’m the ‘smart’ one.”

“Er, actually, I’m the smart one.”

“The f–k you say? Math duel!”

“456.78 x 3667.78(544.1) = ?”

“Eh… er… aw, screw that. I don’t want to be the smart one. I’d rather be the tough one.”

“Oh, really?” ::flexs muscles, bites head off mailman::

“How about… the funny one?”

“I fully expect to get the ERA down around 2.15 this season.”

“BWAH-HA-HA! Oh, man. Good one, Tanyon!”


“Maybe this isn’t gonna work out… maybe I should have just stayed in Boston. I’m almost too ashamed to show my face…”

“HOLY JUMPING CRAP! What’s with the sex mask, Damon?”

“Hey, and didn’t I read something about you and your wife putting a swing in your bedroom?”

“I read that, too. Man, you’re a freaky one, Johnny.”

The freaky one, eh? Hmmm… this could work for me.”

“Hey guys! Check it! Just got some new porn for my collection. Thirteen Japanese schoolgirls goin’ at it with a guy dressed like Great Mazinga!”