Yo, Ells. Dinklage and I are hittin’ Revere Beach to troll for chicks.
Troll, indeed. Perchance to screw.
Ha! See that? I bring Pete along for the fancy words. Because the ladies know anyone who says “perchance” is serious about gettin’ some.
I got some things I gotta take care of here.
Your loss. Hell, if we get drunk enough, we might even stop by Heidi’s place for a spirited round of “secret UPS man.”
[They leave; phone rings]
Hey. Is this Jacoby? Jacoby Ellsbury?
Yeah, who’s this?
Umm… this is Red. You don’t know me but I write this silly-ass Red Sox blog called Surviving Grady.
Who the f$%k is “Grady”?
That really doesn’t matter now. Thing is for your first couple seasons with the team, when you kept going down with injuries and whatnot, uh, I wrote some things about you that I thought were funny at the time, but now I realize they were just mean and stupid.
What kinda things?
Like how you were soft and your heart wasn’t in it and all that. But now that you’re second only to Agon in hits and average and you’ve played more games than anyone on the team in 2011, it’s clear that I was wrong. And I just called to apologize and hope you forgive me.
[Nonchalant] Yeah, sure. Don’t worry about it, it’s no problem.
Wow, that’s great! Well, I am sorry, and maybe we can get together sometime and have some coffee.
Yeah, sure. I’d like that.
[Relieved] Okay, great! I’ll see you around.
[Jacoby reaches down, grabs a marker and heads to a list on his wall titled, “PEOPLE TO KILL”. Once there, he crosses out the name “Red,” which appears on the list between “Dan Shaughnessy” and “Jason Mraz.”]
Meanwhile, across town, on Heidi Watney’s front porch
I… I don’t understand. Dustin, why are you dressed as a UPS delivery man?
Because I am a UPS delivery man. And this giant package is for you.
[Inside box] Enough with the horseshit questions, woman, just take me inside.
* * * * * * * *
Phone call portion gratuitously borrowed from… you know.