About Me
Intro: [Opening credits. A cheering crowd begins to be heard as the globe becomes a baseketball. Cut to a baseball game. Reggie Jackson is at back]
Announcer: ["Reggie! Reggie! Reggie! Reggie! ..."] Reggie Jackson is having an incredible night. Two for two, with a walk. Four runs batted in, and he's already hit two home runs tonight. [An LED readout says "...ONE MORE TIME"] Just listen to that crowd!
Crowd: Reg-gie! Reg-gie! Reg-gie! Reg-gie! Reg-gie! Reg-gie! Reg-gie!
Boy 1: [blond] Come on, Reggie! Hit another one! Hit another home run!
Boy 2: [brunet with curly hair and glasses] Coop, he's already hit two. [the pitcher releases the ball, and Jackson hits the ball to right field.]
Announcer: It's a fly ball to right and deep! [the ball is headed for the boys] That's going to be way back! And that's going to be.gone! [the ball ends up in Coop's glove] Reggie Jackson gets his third home run of the game! [Coop lowers his glove to look at the ball and marvels at it in there. His friend congratulates him with pats on the back. Reggie rounds the bases]
Boy 2: Good catch, Coop.
Coop: I can't believe it!
Boy 2: I mean, I totally had it, but my glasses slipped.
Coop: You know what, Remer? Someday, I'm gonna become a big sports star, too.
Remer: Whatever you say, Coop.
Coop: You just watch me, dude. You just watch me.
Narrator: [Reggie rounds third and heads for home] There was a time in America when contests of athletic prowess were a metaphor for the nobility of man. Historic moments forged by the love of the game celebrated the human potential to achieve excellence. [Reggie touches home plate] But as time passed, and the country neared the millennium, something went awry.
Announcer: [American football is shown] Manning rolls right. He's got ground at the ten. [Manning begins to dance into the end zone] Then five. Touchdown, Dallas! [Manning throws the ball down and begins to dance]
Narrator: The ideal of sportsmanship began to take a back seat to excessive celebration. [two more players join him, then the rest of the team joins them in a chorus line dancing to "Riverdance"] The athletes caring less about executing the play than planning the vulgar grandstanding that inevitably followed even the most pedestrian of accomplishments. [a player grabs a referee and the referee joins in the dance] The games themselves became subordinate to the quest for money. [Corestates Center in Philadelphia, North-South Airlines Arena in Nashville, Consolidated Transnational Stadium in Charlotte, Preparation H Arena, Maxi Tampon Stadium] Stadiums and arenas became nothing more than giant billboards to promote commercial products. Players sold their services to the highest bidder, much like the hired guns of the Old West.
Football Player: And after playing for New England, San Diego, Houston, St. Louis, a year for the Toronto Argonauts, plus one season as a greeter at the Desert Inn, I'm happy to finally play here in the fine city of Miami! [applause as he holds up his new jersey, TOWNSELL]
Official: [rises and whispers into his ear] Minnesota. [sits down]
Townsell: Whatever. [grins big] Shiiit.
Narrator: Soon it was commonplace for entire teams to change cities in search of greater profits. [a US map is shown. Lines are drawn: New York to Oklahoma, Oregon to San Diego to Florida] The Minneapolis Lakers moved to Los Angeles, where there are no lakes. The Oilers moved to Tennessee, where there is no oil. The Jazz moved to Salt Lake City, where they don't allow music. The Oakland Raiders moved to L.A. and then back to Oakland. No one in Los Angeles seemed to notice. The search for greener pastures went on unabated. [more lines are drawn from state to state and then to places overseas] Continued expansion diluted the talent pool, forcing owners to recruit heavily from prisons, mental institutions, and Texas. [fights in baseball, soccer, football, and hockey are shown. In the hockey brawl, one player smacks the head off the opposing player, and the head ends up in front of the goalie, who gags] Fist-fighting and brawling permeated every sport, overshadowing any evidence of competition. As the problems mounted, the fans became less and less interested. [large chunks of bleachers sit empty] To reverse the trend, major sports started interleague play. When that novelty wore off, they tried intersports play. [a pitcher throws the ball, and a football player smacks it away. A fielder almost catches the ball when the football player tackles him. The referee rushes in and calls him safe] But no matter how far the major sports went, it wasn't enough to bring the fans back. The spirit of athletic competition, indeed, was not dead. Its sead merely lay dormant in the dreams of the young. [the young Coop is shown once again beaming with his newly caught ball in his glove as Remer pats him on the back.]
Coop: "You know, Remer? Someday, I'm gonna become a big sports star."
[Present day, at a house porch, night. Coop is taking a piss on some bushes]
Coop: You know, Remer? Someday, I'm gonna own a big sports bar.
Remer: [at the door, rings the bell] Hurry it up, Coop. [a Christmas wreath hangs on the door. Remer holds some Coors beer cans, Coop has the case under his right arm.]
Coop: Oh I just gotta water the plants. [finishes up and closes his zipper as Remer tries to get a good look inside. Coop turns and approaches Remer] I don't wanna go to a party with a bunch of losers from hich school.
Remer: But dude, this is Brittany Kaiser's house, and I really, really wanna fuck her. [the door opens and a man stands there]
Remer, Coop: [noticing] Dr. Kaiser!
Coop: Coop and Remer. [Dr. Kaiser fixes his gaze on them.]
Remer: We graduated with Brittany.
Dr. Kaiser: You graduated?
Coop: [the guys laugh] 'Course we graduated, cock. Beer?
[The Kaiser house. Coop and Remer enter and walk around. A banner at the back of the living room says, "BON VOYAGE BRITTANY"]
Remer: Man, this place looks like a Dockers commercial.
Coop: [takes a sip of his Coors, then recognozes someone] Oh hey, Steph!
Steph: [a brunette wearing a red dress, turns and smiles] Coop! Remer! Heh.
Coop: [presents the case] Hey, you wanna beer? [he and Remer grin]
Steph: Oh my God, you guys haven't changed siince high school! [giggles]
Coop: Oh, cool! [grins]
Steph: No it isn't! [giggles. Coop looks dejected. Remer's grin turns into a grimace. A few seconds later they walk off]
Coop: ...Cock. [recognizes another person] Hey, Skidmark Steve!
Remer: Hey dude. [Steve looks up from his drink, then focuses for a better look]
Coop: Oh, cool. You still just hangin' out, playin' Nintendo?
Steve: Well, if you must know, I'm in my second year of med school. And I'm training for the Summer Games. What are you two up to? [takes a sip of wine]
Coop: ...Hangin' out [Remer takes a swig of beer] ...playin' Nintendo. [they walk off] ...cock.
Steve: Hm. [returns to his drink and his date. Coop and Remer approach someone they both recognize. Remer gives a signal to Coop]
Woman: [to her date] Yeah, I'm all packed. Should be fun.
Coop: [in a deeper voice, to the woman] Hi, Brittany.
Brittany: Why? [realizes she's being addressed from elsewhere, turns and tries to find some words] Coop. Remer. [Coop takes a swig of beer, Remer bounces] I didn't think you guys would show up.
Remer: Well, we wouldn't miss your party. [Coop shakes his head in agreement]
Brittany: No. I mean, I don't remember putting you on the guest list.
Coop: Huh... Well uh, Ted told us about it. [Remer nods affirmatively]
Brittany: [bites her lower lip] 'Scuse me [her boyfriend looks away as she turns to face him] Ted, why did you tell those losers about the party?
Remer: [checking Brittany out, shows his tongue] Mm. Mm!
Coop: Pffft.
Ted: I, I I I I...
Brittany: What are you doing?? [their argument continues]
Coop: Dude, this party sucks. Let's bail.
Remer: [stops him and says in a low voice] No dude, let's go up to Brittany's room.
[A room upstairs. Coop stands at a dresser and pulls out the top drawer. The sound of running water is heard form elsewhere]
Coop: Remer! Come in here. [Remer stands at a bidet in the bathroom drinking from its fountain. He rises and enters the bedroom] Check it out. [Coop pulls out some clothes] Brittany's underwear, dude.
Remer: Ohhh, dude. [they start rubbing their faces in it. Remer draws a vibrator] Dude! dude dude!
Coop: [looks in wonder] Ohhh...
Remer: [playing with the vibrator] Oh I am sooo jealous of you. [Coop returns to rubbing his face in the underwear as Remer begins to lick the vibrator.]
Coop: [looks in wonder] Oh, yeah... [Brittany wanders in and looks.]
Brittany: 'Scuse me...
Coop: [turns to face her, lowers the underwear] Brittany.
Brittany: What are you guys doing in my mom's room? [Remer freezes in position. Coop turns and unfurls the underwear he's holding. It's a very large red panty]
Coop: [instantly disgusted] Awww! Awww awww! [runs out of the room] Awww awww!
Brittany: Get out of here!
Remer: [fumbles the vibrator, but manages to run out of the room with it] Oh! Jeez!
Brittany: Jerk.
[The backyard, on the driveway outside the four-door garage. Coop and Remer walk to the driveway, which has a half-court drawn on it. A basketball rim hangs over the doors]
Remer: Dude, we're never gonna get a chick like Brittany Kaiser, are we?
Coop: [reaches down and picks up a basketball] Or any other chick. And it's only 'cause we have no jobs. [takes a lazy shot and scores. Remer goes for the ball] Our rent check's three months overdue and, our gas is about to get shut off. [sips his beer]
Remer: What do girls want, anyway? [takes a lazy shot and scores, then sips his beer]
Coop: [takes the rebound] Well, apparently not total losers. [shoots and scores, then sips his beer]
Remer: We're pretty good at basketball. [takes the ball, shoots and scores, then sips his beer]
Coop: Yeah, as long as we don't have to run or jump or dribble or nothing. You know what I mean? [takes the ball, shoots and scores, then sips his beer]
Remer: [holds the ball] Ah, shit's overrated anyway.
Coop: Yeah.
Ted: Hey! [camera switch to two couples. One of them is Ted and Brittany.] You guys up for a little game?
Remer: Sure.
Ted: Well, let's make it interesting. Say, twenty bucks?
Coop: [the guys think a moment] How about fifty?
Ted: You're on! [takes the ball from Remer] Here we go.
Man: Let's go, here we go.
Remer: Dude, we don't have fifty bucks.
Coop: [retorts] We don't have twenty. Dude, it doesn't matter. How good can they be? [Ted and has partner take turns shooting and scoring, dunking, etc. Coop and Remer pay attention] Oh shit. [close-up on their opponents, displaying their talents]
Ted: Ally oop, ally oop!
Player: [scores with a dunk] Yeah!
Ted: Come on, ladies. We playing or not?
Coop: Yeah, but... not that ...pussy-ass two-on-two you guys play in the suburbs.
Man: What, you guys got somethin' better? [their girlfriends look on]
Remer: Yeah... But, it's this new game we, we picked up in the 'hood.
Ted: So what is it?
Coop: [Remer looks at him] Okay. Okay. I shoot.. from... wherever I want, right? And then... you have to make that same shot, or else you get a letter.
Ted: You mean like Horse?
Coop: [indignant] No it's not like Horse! [Remer and Coop blow raspberries repeatedly] Duh! It's uh... It's baseball rules. [Ted and his teammate shift positions]
Remer: Yeah. [walks around behind Coop] Like, a single's from the three-point line.
Coop: Right. And a double's from the top of the key.
Remer: You can't shoot from the same place twice.
Coop: And a, a triple's from back here. [backs up to the table by the bushes] And a home run's from behind the meatballs.
Remer: You miss, and you get an out. Ready?
Coop, Remer: Break!
Man: Whoa, what?
Coop: We can explain it more slowly if you need us to; you're not big sports guys? [the girls look at Coop and Remer, then at Ted and his teammate]
Ted: No, no, no...
Man: Nono, no, we get it. We get it, man. [he and Ted make their way to the outer court]
Remer: Losers up first.
Man: So... [gets into position] what, let me get this straight. This is a single, right?
Ted: Yeah, and a home run is behind the meatballs.
Coop: Come on, take your shot, guy. [takes a sip of beer. The man shoots, and in the act of shooting Coop spits out his beer at him. The man misses the shot]
Man: [startled, mad] What was that, man! You can't spit beer at me while I'm shootin'! You got it all o-!
Coop: Aw, that's one out. Don't look at us, that's how we play in the hood. I can do whatever I want to make you miss your shot.
Remer: He's right. That's one out.
Coop: One out.
Ted: One out? Gimme the damn ball! [grabs the ball and faces off against Remer. Ted shoots...]
Remer: Fucked your sister.
Ted: Huh??? [the ball bounces off the rim and away. The game picks up]
Coop: Coop lines up for a double. [shoots and scores]
Remer: Okay, guy on second and third. [shoots and scores]
Coop: Got a runner on third, this could bring him home. [shoots and scores. The guests take notice and begin to gather on the lawn. Coop is humming at Ted. Ted shoots and misses] Yes! Two outs!
Ted: [grumbles] God, this is so-!
Remer: Come on! [faces Ted's teammate with a quarter-watermelon wedge. The man shoots, and Remer responds with a spit of watermelon juice to the man's eye. The teammate misses his shot]
Coop: [as Ted shoots] Ted Nugent- [and misses. Remer takes the rebound and scores.] Oh, tip-in. Double play. That's three outs!
Ted: What???
Coop: [to Remer] We're up. [to Ted] It's double play, jackass! [Remer shoots and scores.]
A guest: That's nice, real nice.
Coop: Bottom of the eighth. This could almost seal it. [shoots and scores. Their opponents lower their eyes] Oh, he made that look easy! [moments later, Ted takes a shot. Coop takes a picture as Remer stands there with a stupid pose next to Ted. Ted misses the shot and breaks a garage door window]
Ted: Aaaagh! Shit! Come on, man! Why'dja-? [Coop gives him the Polaroid picture he just took]
Remer: [pulls a hair from his teeth as Ted's teammate takes a shot] Aw, one of Brittany's mom's pubic hairs!
Man: [misses the shot] Ogh, God!
Brittany: [in disgust] Ogh!
Man: [in disgust] Come on, man!
Coop: Dude, we win the game! Dude, that was a sweet psych-out!
Remer: [pulls out another hair] Oh dude! There's another one! [Ted and teammate go back to their girlfriends, who receive them in their arms] Now what the hell's up with that?! We win the game and they get the chicks! That sucks, dude! [he and Coop begin to walk away]
Coop: Dude, I'm telling you, it's jobs. We gotta get jobs. Then we get the khakis. Then we get the chicks. Starting tomorrow, we gotta stop playing games.
[Next day, at another house. Coop and Remer practice their new sport at its garage. Coop takes aim...]
Remer: Miss it. Steeeve Perry. [the ball sails for the basket] Steeeve Perry. [the ball bounces off the rim]
Coop: [squats slightly in disappointment] Aagh!
Remer: [with the ball, walks to his mark] Yes. Three outs. I'm up.
Coop: [takes his place in defense] All right, it's the bottom of the fifth.
Male Voice: Joseph R. Cooper? [a man in uniform walks onto the driveway]
Remer: [shoots and scores] Single, man on first. [the man looks at Remer as Coop takes the ball.]
Man: [looks at Coop] Are you Joe Cooper?
Coop: [walks towards Remer] Cut the crap, Squeak. You know who I am. [tosses the ball to Remer]
Squeak: [holds up a small clipboard with a small form attached] Gentlemen, this form authorizes me to interrupt your property and terminate all services forthwith until all delinquent payments have been generated. [Coop glances over at the form]
Remer: What??
Coop: Dude, he's here to shut off the gas. [looks up at the basket]
Remer: Weak, dude, you work for the gas company now? [shoots and scores]
Squeak: [serious] Gentlemen-
Remer: Double! Guy on second and third. [Coop gets the ball]
Squeak: Is your canine locked up and/or safely secured within your domicile?
Coop: Ahh, yeah, he's at the vet getting his claws removed. [tosses the ball to Remer]
Squeak: Okay, if you will excuse me... [walks to the side of the house]
Remer: Dude, does it just suck being you? [Squeak pauses a moment, then opens the side gate]
Squeak: [enters and closes the gate behind him] I'll show those guys what sssucks.
Coop: [as Remer goes for the shot] Steve Perry. Steve Perry. And I should have been go-one. After all. Oh yeah, you missed it!
Squeak: [steps onto something squishy] Oh! Damnit. [It was a pile of dogpoo. He goes about cleaning it off with a pen]
Remer: I said no more Journey psych-outs.
Coop: Dude, I'm running out of ideas. [a Doberman runs up out of nowhere and lunges at Squeak and begins mauling him]
Squeak: Aaah!! Oooh!! Aaah!! [Coop and Remer argue about the shot, not paying attention to the screaming]
Remer: ...easier than that!
Coop: That's why we have this little short shot from over here.
Remer: A short shot. Kind of like a bunt. [Squeak sails over the top of the gate and onto the driveway]
Coop: Exactly.
Remer: Oh yeah.
Coop: It doesn't put any runners on base. [Squeak gets up and gathers himself, but he's in tatters]
Remer: Yeah, that's a sweet idea.
Squeak: [livid] YOU LIED TO ME!! AGAIN!!
Coop: ...Oh right, I guess the dog's vet appointment is tomorrow, isn't it. [walks away]
Remer: We put the cat in today. Honest mistake, Squeak. Sorry. [walks away. They resume honing their game]
Squeak: MY NAME ISN'T SQUEAK, ALL RIGHT?! MY NAME IS KENNY!!
Coop: All right, all right all right, you little bitch. Here, why don't you take a shot? [tosses the ball to Squeak.]
Squeak: [struggles to get the ball, but finally holds it] I don't wanna take a shot! I wanna turn off your gas! And don't call me bitch!
Coop: Okay, Squeak. Let's just shoot for it.
Squeak: Shoot for it?? What are you, insane?! This is my JOB, you assholes!
Coop: Look, it's a good deal. All you gotta do is make a single, from right here, and you can shut off our gas, and we'll never call you Squeak again. [Remer nods in agreement]
Squeak: Or bitch.
Coop, Remer: [look at each other] Or bitch.
Squeak: [thinks a moment, then stands between them] From right here?
Coop, Remer: Mhm.
Squeak: [gets into position, looks at Remer, then Coop] All right. Check this shit out.
Coop: Steeve [Squeak shoots] Perry
Squeak: Huh? [the ball bounces off the garage roof and onto the side of the garage, hitting the Doberman, who yelps in pain]
Coop: Ohhh...
Remer: Tough break, Squeak. [the Doberman growls]
Coop: Yeah, you've gotta fetch the ball, bitch. [the Doberman pushes against the gate, which rocks back and forth. Reluctantly, Squeak goes to get the ball]
[Three months later, afternoon. A crowd is gathered around the driveway as a game is in progress. Coop is on third base waiting to come home and Squeak is at the double square ready to make a basket]
Coop: Come on, Squeak. We'll win the game with this one, baby. Bring me home! [Squeak shoots and scores] Yes!! [Coop leaves third and goes home] That's it! We win the game!
Remer: Dude, we got five runs that inning.
Coop: Yeah I know. You know, this game is pretty badass.
Man: [voice only] All right, another game? We're up. [a woman reaches over and marks down another timeout] Top of the first.
Coop: [as his opponent shoots] Yo Tyler. I hear your sister's going out with Squeak!
Tyler: What? [stumbles] Ugh! [the ball misses the basket]
Coop: [gets the ball and barks an order] Mark me down for another psych-out.
Squeak: Hey... I'm not going out with his sister.
Coop: Dude, that's the defense. You gotta psych 'em out! [throws the ball to the opposition]
Remer: Yeah, we've gotta say totally fucked up shit to make sure the other guy misses.
Squeak: Ohh riight. [thinks a moment] Hey wait a minute!! Why is saying I'm going out with his sister totally fucked up?!
Coop: Yo Pierce. I hear your mom is going out with Squeak! [Pierce is distracted and shoots the ball. It hits Squeak and bounces away] Oh yes! Two outs!
[Later, after the game is over. Coop works with a blowtorch and welding helmet. The front door opens and Remer and Sueak enter. Coop turns off the torch and rises]
Remer: Okay, so you're gonna owe 1/12 of the rent, 1/12 of the water bill, 1/12 of the power bill-
Coop: Dude. [holds up his creation]
Remer: -1/12 of the cable bill... [looks at a homemade baseball the size of a basketball]
Coop: Check it out.
Remer: What's that?
Coop: It's a baseketball.
Remer: Whoa, dude, you made a ball? [Coop nods] Out of what? [Coop turns around and steps aside. All three men look at the ruins of an easy chair, down bulging out from the cuts made to the upholstery. Remer spins the ball in his hands until he sees the brand name on the ball: LA-Z-BOY]
[later. Remer is showing Squeak around]
Remer: Hey dude, I can't believe those asswipes fired you for not shutting off our gas for six weeks.
Squeak: It was losin' the truck that pissed them off the most.
Remer: Well you can camp out here for a while. [they enter a spare room]
Squeak: Well this is pretty sweet. [sees a couch and settles in on it] Does this couch fold out to a bed?
Remer: Yeah, a totally great bed. But that's Jenkin's bed. Your bed's over here. [points to a corner of the room. In that corner is a small cardboard box with a few items inside]
Squeak: [takes a look] Dude, that is so fuckin' weak! How am I supposed to get a chick in that?!
Coop: [enters eating from a bowl] Oh, don't worry, dude. You couldn't get a chick if you had a hundred dollar bill hangin' out of your zipper.
Squeak: ...Yeah I could.
Remer: No, dude. You're a little bitch.
Squeak: I am not! I don't even know why I hang out with you guys.
Coop: 'Cause you're a piece of shit. [takes another spoonful of food]
Squeak: I am not a piece of shit!
Remer: Well yeah, but you're a little bitch.
Coop: Sure are. [another bite]
Squeak: [frustrated] God-damnit man! I swear, you guys rip on me thirteen or fourteen more times, I'm out of here!
Remer: Yeah, whatever. [Squeak tries to make the corner a bit more comfortable]
Coop: Dude, I gotta show you this scoreboard I made. [turns and walks out. Remer follows. Squeak watches them leave, then throws down the towel he was holding]
Squeak: This place is a shithole anyway! [looks around the room, then goes to open some windowed doors. They swing out] Well, at least I'm on the team. [puts his hands on his hips and beams] Yeah. They want me-AAAAAH! [the Doberman lunges through the window at him and knocks him down]
[Six months later, night. The crowd for this game is even bigger, and it's gettig local television coverage. Coop's team now has team sweatshirts that say "Shirts" on them. Remer is waiting to come home, Coop is shooting. As Coop prepares to shoot, the following is heard]
Announcer: Joe Bryant, WIGN. At the scene where an unusual new driveway game has captured the imagination of at least one neighborhood...
Announcer 2: [female] The young and old have gathered here tonight, really enjoying this championship game...
Announcer 3: [male] The entire league has sprung up around this quirky...
Announcer 4: The Round Robin, starting with twelve teams in June, now down to just two, including, we're told, the inventors of the game, childhood friends... [Coop shoots. The basebetball hits the backboard]
Announcer 5: It's off the rim, could be a double-play... [a player takes the rebound and shoots] Maxwell tips... [the ball misses the basket and another man takes a shot] Newman's try... [Newman shoots, but misses. The ball bounces off the backboard] No! Shirts have the shot, the conversion... [Remer looks at the ball, Coop moves up] Remerrrr... [Remer makes his move and tips the ball back up] keeps it alive. [the ball bounces off the backboard and Coop sails up to the basket] Last chance... [Coop tips the ball up once more] Coop... Up... [the ball hits the backboard and falls into the basket] Good!! They get the conversion! And the home run's good! [everyone cheers as Coop goes around the bases. The winners hug each other in celebration] What a game! The Shirts win the World Championship of Baseketball! [the Shirts are given their trophy, a large plain ceramic bowl]
Man: [elderly but robust, makes his way through the crowd] Gentlemen. Gentlemen. [catches up to Coop and Remer] Gentlemen, I'm Ted Denslow.
Coop: [softly] Ted Denslow, [normal] billionaire?
Denslow: Yes. Anyway, I like your little game here. How'd you like to go pro?
Coop: [laughs] Baseketball?
Denslow: I got three words for ya. National. Baseketball. League.
Coop: [flatly] We're not interested. [turns and pulls Remer away with him]
Denslow: Now wait a minute, hear me out! Now you kids with your loud music and your Dan Fogelberg [Coop mouths "Dan Fogelberg" in disbelief], your Zima, hula hoops and Pac-Man video games, don't you see? People today have attention spans that can only be measured in nanoseconds. [holds his thumb and index finger apart just a bit. Remer stands transfixed by a chirping bird on a branch right above him. Coop sees this, then rolls his eyes]
Coop: I hear you.
Denslow: Just look at these people. [shot of seven men perched on the roof of a house. They perform the Wave as Coop looks over at them. A man walks by and gives his congratulations: "Way to go, Coop." Coop looks in acknowledgment] I can see they feel a certain connection with you as players. Baseketball, we can start fresh. Not allow teams to change cities or... players to be traded. And everybody will get paid the same! Just like when I was a kid, and players were treated like, like...
Coop: Indentured servants?
Denslow: Yes! [Coop nods knowingly] And the real beauty of this game... is anyone can play. Any normal Joe can be a sports hero. Haven't you ever wanted to be a sports hero?
Coop: [turns away] Sure, once. But that... was a long time ago.
Denslow: Well if I know anything about this country, [Coop looks again] America will go nuts over baseketball! [Coop notices some commotion on the roof, and his eyes bug out. The guys up there begin stumbling. Two men fall off. Remer is still transfixed by that bird.] I mean American will go crazy for baseketball!! [the third man falls off.]
Man: Help! Oh my God! [The crowd below begins to mobilize to help the fallen men]
Denslow: Yehes!! [the fourth man falls off] There! Just listen to that crowd! Listen to that crowd!
Woman: [the fifth man falls off.] Call an ambulance!! [Coop looks away, lost in thought]
[Five years later, in a new stadium. Reel Big Fish is playing on stage to a cheering crowd. The camera moves off the band, pans across the bleachers and over the playing field. The target is a yellow garage façade with a basketball hoop hanging from it. The nine shooting positions are laid out radiating from second base, which is under the basket. Mats that look like sidewalks stretch across the foul regions. A team mascot is present - a large keg of beer with the tap before the groin area. The umpires skate around as cheerleaders dance for the crowd. The camera reaches Coop's dugout, where Coop stands waiting for the game to resume. He is in a Beers uniform. The rack of balls next to him contains baseketballs made by Spaulding - just basketballs painted to look like baseballs, complete with stitching. On the stadium wall opposite him are two vertical banners of him and Remer - Coop Cooper, #44, Airman, and Doug Remer, #17, Sir Swish. A third one comes into view - Squeak Scolari, #23, Little Bitch]
Reel Big Fish: I say she never cared and that she never will.
I'd do it all again; I guess I'll have to wait until then.
If i get drunk well, I'll pass out on the floor now baby;
You won't bother me no more.
If you're drinkin' well, you know that you're my friend and I say
"I think I'll have myself a beer"
Commentator: Ninth inning, the Beers still behind by three runs, and now down to their last out. [Coop reaches for the rack and feels out each baseketball to see which one he'll use for his shot] And the pressure on these players has got to be enormous. [Coop reaches for his homemade ball, the LA-Z-BOY, and turns to his team]
Coop: [pacing] All right you guys, we have one out left. We're not beat yet; we can still win this thing. Can we do it?
Team: Yeah!
Coop: [leaving the dugout] Can we do it?!
Team: Yeah!! [the members rise and clap for him, cheering]
Michaels: And what a game these fans are seeing. [the camera pans and rests on Denslow. A man hands Denslow a hot dog and sits to his left] That gentleman, of course, Beers owner Ted Denslow, the father of professional baseketball, along with his lovely new wife, Yvette. [a blonde wearing a gold-colored coat with fur collar.]
Announcer: Now shooting, #44, Coop "Airrrman" Cooper! [Coop limbers up by working out with a practice basebetball. The ball has an iron doughnut clamped onto it. A female assistant holds his LA-Z-BOY until he reaches for it. She then sets down the practice ball as he goes out to cheers of "COOP! COOP! COOP! COOP! ..."]
Michaels: Coop is heading for the triple square, and Bob Costas, this has to be one of the most exciting baseketball games in recent memory. [the two commentators are shown in their booth. Costas is to the left]
Costas: Hard to believe that just five years ago this game was played only on driveways
Michaels: [admiring the cheerleaders] Yeah, and it's hard to believe that just five years ago those girls were only in grade school. [Costas looks at him in disbelief, then looks around for any strange stimuli. Coop approaches the square] So Coop at the triple line, and Jansen sets up for the psych-out. [A sneering Dallas player]
Jansen: Hey Coop!
Coop: [holds up his left index finger] Be right with you, hero. [Jansen looks away, then looks back, but the ball has left Coop's hands. The ball goes through the hoop. The scoreboard is shown, and at the bottom it reads "Welcome to Beers Garden"]
Michaels: It's good!
Costas: Oho, nothing but net. [Coop pumps his right arm and goes around the bases. The crowd cheers him on. Jansen looks on in frustration] Coop triples again. He's hit for the cycle seven times tonight. [The Beers teammates hug each other and pat each other in victory. An umpire slaps the triple square with a potholder. Coop spanks an obese infielder as he rounds second base, then stops at third]
Remer: Go Coop! Way to go, man!
Squeak: You're the man! [the spectators, some of of them wearing plastic Beers head mugs, start going through the motions of putting mugs to mouths and saying "glug... glug... glug... "]
Costas: And listen to those foamheads, doing the Beers chug.
[A pocket yellow TV. A pair of hands holds on as the game plays on the small screen]
Costas: Coop's on third with two down, and that brings up Squeak Scolari.
Squeak: [in the dugout holding the TV, grimacing] Oh, God, I knew it was gonna come down to me, I just knew it! [Remer stands behind him, observing]
Remer: [tries to calm him down] Relax, dude, it's not just you. We're a team! [they walk slowly]
Michaels: And it all comes down to just one man.
Squeak: Oh God!
Remer: [panicking] Listen to me dude, if I get up one guy right now, one guy, it'd by you!
Costas: Unfortunately, that one man is Squeak Scolari.
Squeak: No shit!!
Remer: Listen, pretend this is just another game.
Michaels: This Denslow cup is of course the biggest game of the season.
Squeak: [painfully] Uh Christ!
Remer: Will you turn that shit off?! [rips the TV from Squeak's hands and tosses it away]
Squeak: I'm so scared! Man, I-
Remer: [grabs Squeak by the collar and throws him up against the netting] Listen to me, you little bitch! You either go out and make that shot, or I'm gonna shove your head so far up your fuckin' ass, you have to wear yourself as a hat!!
Michaels: [viewing the action in the dugout] And in the dugout, Doug Remer giving his teammate some last-minute encouragement.
Squeak, Remer: Aaaah! Aaaah!
Remer: Go out there and make that shot! [plants the baseketball on Squeak's chest. Squeak looks at Remer with fire in his eyes and slaps him hard across the left cheek. Remer reels as Squeak leaves, then soothes his cheek] ...Fuck! [The Dallas cheerleaders begin their performance]
Michaels: The talented Felon Girls [dressed as dominatrices] appearing in their third Denslow Cup game.
Announcer: Now shooting, #23, Squeak "Little Bitch" Scolari. [Squeak tries working with the practice ball, but it just pulls him backwards onto the ground and bounces away. The crowd cheers and Squeak comes out to the field]
Michaels: So Squeak Scolari walks out to take the last remaining single.
Coop: [encouraging] Come on, bitch! Calledja bitch! [Squeak flashes a quick glare at Coop]
Jansen: [weakly waving his arms before Squeak] Hey Squeak, miss it! Miss it! [Squeak shoots and scores easily]
Michaels: It's good! And the Beers stay alive in the ninth. [the spectators rise and cheer]
Costas: Dallas Felons owner Baxter Cain [talking to an aide] hoping for another Denslow Cup victory.
Announcer: Now shooting, #17, Doug "Sirrr Swish" Remer! [Remer simply puts powder on his hands and heads out to shoot]
Michaels: Two on, two out. Remer heads for the double line.
Jansen: [not even trying to motion except to point something out] Hey Remer! You better make sure your toe isn't over the line!
Remer: Hey Jansen! Nice [shoots] psssych-out, dingleberry! [scores] Yes! [pumps his arm]
Michaels: It's in! It's now a two-run game. [Coop heads for home, Squeak heads for third, Remer goes to second] Dirk Jansen apparently missing another psych-out. [the spectators rise and cheer] And everyone here at Beers Garden is on their feet. [Coop steps into the home run circle as they chant "Coop! Coop! Coop!"]
Costas: And now, at a time like this, you can't help thinking about guys like John Elway. Guys who kept coming close, and then finally got there. [Denslow and Yvette rise, and then his aide rises, jamming Denslow's arm up. Denslow ends up swallowingn his hot dog wiener whole]
Denslow: [choking] Owgh!
Costas: If Coop can make this one, the Beers' long wait will be over.
Denslow: Awwgh! [Yvette and a few other spectators look at him, not sure what's going on. The spectators continue their mug chant]
Jansen: [noticing] Hey Coop! [Coop sets up his shot] Looks like your boy Denslow is about to buy the farm. [Coop looks back]
Denslow: Waagh! [leans over the railing]
Coop: Oh!
Denslow: Wuhugh! [falls over]
Coop: Whoa! [loses his balance and the ball. The ball dribbles off and Remer shows frustration. Coop is down face-first on the ground]
Costas: He missed! He missed, I don't believe it. The Felons win their second consecutive Denslow Cup on the strength of a Dirk Jansen psych-out.
Coop: [rises to his knees] No! No! [sees the word "PSYCHE OUT"] Awwww!!
Jansen: [taunting Coop] I got you dude, I got you! [Coop rises to challenge him when Remer runs up and stops him. Another Dallas player is spoiling for a fight, but three of his teammates and an official restrain him.]
Remer: Whoa whoa whoa whoa! Relax dude! Relax!
Coop: What?
Remer: Do the Happy Dance.
Coop: Why d'ya want me to do this? We just lost the game!
Remer: Do the Happy Dance!! [Coop begins going through the motions] Where's the singing?
Coop: [winces at Remer] Aww, I don't wanna sing!
Remer: [insistent] Do the singing! Come on, sing.
Coop: [reluctantly add the singing] Doin' the Happy Dance... Doin' the Happy Dance... [an egg comes flying at him and breaks on impact on his chest. More eggs strike him and he looks around] Shit, Denslow! [makes his way over as camera crush in on Remer]
Remer: Aw, awww.
Michaels: And these Beers fans have to be disappointed! What an unfortunate thing to happen on Dozen Egg Night. [more and more eggs come flying at Coop, but he reaches Denslow, who is sprawled out on the ground in front of the bleachers]
Yvette: My husband! Somebody help him! [an umpire is already present checking on Denslow's condition] My God!
Remer: [reaching Yvette] Mrs. Denslow, if there's anything you need-
Yvette: Um Teddy. [Coop looks up at Yvette and with determination presses against Denslow's sternum. The hot dog pops out and back into Denslow's mouth, but Coop fails to notice] I don't believe it. He just- oh! Oh... [Yvette faints into Remer's arms]
Remer: Mrs. Denslow? Mrs. Denslow! [Coop presses down twice more, and each time the hot dog pops out and back into Denslow's mouth. Coop turns to look at Denslow, Remer tries to shake Yvette back to consciousness, then blows on her]
Yvette: [not quite awake] Ohhh!
Coop: I wish there was something I could do!
Denslow: Uuuuuh...! [motions to the hot dog bun]
Coop: I know, Mr. Denslow, they stopped serving them after the seventh inning. [glances around] Somebody get this man a hot dog!! [Denslow glares at Coop for his ignorance and cracks an egg on his head, then expires]
[The Dallas locker room. The celebrations are underway. Two men run at each other, jump up, and slam into each other chest-first. They they part. A bottle of champagne is uncorked and sprayed out over the winners. One of the commentators is interviewing Cain amid shouts of victory and flowing champagne]
Cain: You're absolutely right, Jim. Ted Denslow was a hero, because his vision brought baseketball from neighborhood driveways into big arenas, but more importantly into the hearts and TVs of America. It's a very sad day. [a naked player swings across the screen, his back to the camera, behind Cain and Jim: "Weeeeeeee!" You can see his ass swing back and forth just once] His untimely death cast an unbearable pall over an otherwise sweet victory. [throws his thumbs up to the camera] Heeey! Yeahhh! [someone says "Go gentlemen!"] You too! [more celebration]
Jim: [trying to be heard] Yes, and all of our hearts... are with you and your family on this... [Jansen approaches the men. Cain turns and congratulates him. The Dallas team now wears shirts saying "Champions" on the chest] Dirk Jansen, winner of the Winner's Warm Douche MVP Trophy. What's your take on this stunning upset.
[The Beers' locker room. Remer stops by a TV to watch the interview. The Beers players are wearing shirts saying "Losers" on the chest]
Jansen: I think the whole key to the game was when I psyched out Coop! No doubt about it! [the camera backs up and the TV's sound fades] And all you people watching out there...
Coop: I can't believe this guy! He didn't psych me out!
Remer: Yeah, if anyone should get the psych-out it should be Denslow.
Coop: [fixes his gaze on Remer] Dude, weak. [looks back and then walks off]
Voice: Oh Coop, Coop. [Coop turns] I, I know this is a heard time for you, but I'd like to get your thoughts on what happened today.
Coop: Well, Tim, today I lost the big game, and a, a dear friend. Um, I'm feeling... pretty vulnerable right now. Uh, I don't think I should be alone. I really need people to talk to... [his voice trails off as he begins to reflect]
Tim: [cuts him off] It certainly does seem to be raining shit on Joe Cooper right now. [the Beers mascot goes to a common urinal and opens his tap, releasing piss into the urinal] On paper the Beers have the far superior team. But the outside shooting of Coop and the deadly accuracy of Doug Remer... [Remer walks up to Tim] What happened out there?
Remer: Uugh, well, it was a team effort, and I guess it took every player workin' together to lose this one.
Tim: Thanks, Doug. [Remer walks off] And so...
Squeak: [walks up] Hey! Wanna do an interview with me?
Tim: [looks down at him] Nno. [looks at the camera. Squeak walks off upset] So another baseketball championship is in the books. Yet another opportunity lost for the Beers. [Dallas cheerleaders are shown on TV]
[The shower room. Squeak is relaxing in the hot tub.]
Coop: Man, I gotta go. [turns and walks off listlessly]
Squeak: [something begins to move him around the hot tub in a clockwise manner] Hey Coop? Coop!! Hey, what's goin' on? [the water level lowers and he spins around the hot tub faster and faster] Coop?? Coop! Hey Coop! Coop help!! [begins to be sucked under] Aaaagh! Hellp!! Aaaagh! Aaaagh! Aaaagh! [the hot tub drains and he's stuck.]
Tim: [walks in and continues his spot as the hot tub sucks Squeak under] This is Tim McCarver from Beers Garden, where the Dallas Felons have defeated the Milwaukee Beers in Denslow Cup IV. [the sounds from the emptying hot tub drown out the rest of his statement]
[A Beers Arena parking structure, by a "Dream Come True Foundation" van. One side door is open. Several kids and a woman walk up to the van. She opens the other side door]
Woman: One at a time. [the kids begin piling in, chatting somewhat]
Black Girl: [looks out and points] There he is! [at the players' entrance the cameras crowd around the Visitors' door, and a lone figure walks out the Beers door.]
Kid 1: Coop!
Kid 2: Oh man!
Kid 3: Oh cool.
Kid 4: Aw, can we touch him? [other kids chime in as the crowd around the Visitors' door cheers an exiting champion]
Black Girl: There there!
Woman: [approaches Coop and catches him] 'Scuse me. 'Scuse me, hi. Would you mind signing a couple of autographs for the kids?
Coop: [wistfully] I think you're looking for the Dallas locker room; it's over there.
Woman: Oh, I know, but it's so crowded. I mean, um, they would really rather have your autograph.
Coop: Really?
Woman: Anyway, would you mind signing these? [looks down]
Coop: [following her gaze] Uh, sure. [raises his marker to her chest level. She presents him a pair of baseketballs] Oh. [he takes the baseketballs and sets up to sign them] Ah it's nice to meet you, miss...
Woman: Reed. Jenna Reed.
Coop: Joe Cooper - Coop.
Jenna: I know.
Coop: It's hard to-are all these kids with you?
Jenna: Oh yeah. Yeah, I've been the director of the Dream Come True foundation since October.
Coop: Oh, the ones that grant wishes to sick and dying kids, right?
Jenna: Oh, well we prefer to think of them as "health-challenged" and "survival-impaired"
Coop: [begins signing the first ball] So you're a big fan of baseketball?
Jenna: No, not really. [Coop looks up] I mean, the kids are big fans; I... try and keep them interested in things that are a little more... permanent.
Coop: Permanent?
Jenna: Well, you know how professional athletes come and go these days.
Coop: Uh, not in baseketball. There are rules against it.
Male Voice: Hwe-hell, hello! [both look to see who it is - Remer with a big grin on his face]
Coop: Oh uh, Miss Reed, this is... Remer. [begins autographing the second ball. Jenna now holds the first one]
Remer: Would you like a fresh pretzel? [Coop looks over, Jenna faces Remer, who says earnestly] I baked it myself. [Coop looks puzzled]
Jenna: Oh... [looks at it and takes it] Thank you.
Remer: Goes great with mustard. [holds up two packets]
Jenna: ...Okay. [takes the packets. The kids have gathered around the three adults]
Girl: Miss Reed? Miss Reed? [Jenna turns and gives the first signed baseketball to the kids]
Coop: [to Remer, away from Jenna] Dude, you didn't make that pretzel, didja?
Remer: Of course not, but chicks like guys who can cook. Didn't you know that?
Coop: What?? [Jenna looks back, then up and down at Remer]
Remer: Dah see? It worked! She was checkin' out me ass.
Coop: She wasn't checking out your ass!
Jenna: [to the kids] All set then? [Coop and Remer turn to face her as she rises to leave] Well, I'd better get these kids back. Little Travis is getting impatient.
Remer: Hey! I love kids! Which one is Travis? [without waiting for the answer, he takes the second baseketball...] Here. Heads up, big guy! [...and shoots it at the first boy he sees. The ball hits a white boy and fells him]
Girl: Um are you all right, Travis? [Jenna grimaces]
Remer: God, he needs a little work on the hands...
Jenna: ...He's blind, Doug.
Remer: Ah. [Jenna just looks at him]
[New report]
Reporter: Felons fans rejoiced in their team's Denslow Cup victory with a huge celebration in Downtown Dallas. [riot footage is shown] Finally tally: fourteen injured, three dead. [the media window moves off the screen] And on a sad note, the sports world was devastated tonight by the passing of Ted Denslow. [the window returns with a picture of a smiling Denslow] By all accounts the late Beers owner seemed to be the only one surprised by his death, [a close-up of him choking just before falling over the railing] and it appears that time just finally ran out for the old cocksucker. [the closeup disappears] Theodore Denslow, dead at 85. His hairpiece was 24.
[A classic business building. An easel reads "Theodore Denslow Estate Distribution"]
Denslow: [on a pre-recorded video] ...these chaps I wore in Rootin Tootin Rhythm I bequeath to my nephew Herman. Hope he looks as snappy in them as I did! [someone gets an item from the collection and takes it to a beneficiary] And this poncho, that kept me dry during the filming of thw Academy Award-winning...
Cain: Mrs. Denslow? [Yvette looks up] Baxter Cain. May I sit down?
Yvette: Of course.
Cain: [holds her hand] My deepest sympathy on your great loss.
Yvette: Thank you, Mr. Cain. [Coop enters and looks for a place to sit.]
Denslow: ...hand painted plate commemorating the Pope's visit to Dodger Stadium I leave to my niece Susan. A limited edition, signed, in the mold, with a photo-copied certificate of authenticity" [sits down and looks around. Behind him, Susan rises and goes for her heirloom]
Coop: [notices the woman a seat over to his right] Jenna. [she looks back] What are you doin' here?
Jenna: Well I'm not sure. I... [digs around in her purse] I got this letter, I... [pulls out a folded envelope and shows it to him]
Coop: Yeah, yeahyeah, me too. [pulls out his own envelope and shows her, taking the opportunity to sit next to her. Susan carries back her plate and certificate. Remer enters the room from the back, as Coop did before him. He carries a condolence wreath: "Goodbye Old Friend". The wreath knocks something out of a woman's hands and it shatters on the carpet]
Denslow: And this toothbrush, used to clean the oats...
Susan: You clumsy idiot!
Remer: [sits next to Coop] Where's the body?
Susan: What an ass!
Coop: [somewhat annoyed] They buried him two days ago. This is the will reading.
Remer: Ohh. Oh well, in that case... [reaches for the wreath and moves it closer to Jenna] These are for you, Jenna.
Denslow: Now, as a special fluke of charity, I bequeath these season tickets to the Dream Come True Foundation. [held an envelope with nine tickets fanning out from an envelope. An usher quickly gives her the tickets and removes the wreath]
Jenna: Thank you.
Cain: [to Yvette] I want you to know I had nothing but respect for your late husband. [shifts in his seat.] Unfortunately, he was one person who stood in the way of making any kind of changes to baseketball that might "increase" the owners' profits. I can't imagine what he had against making money. [Yvetter dabs some moisture off her upper lip] I trust that quality isn't sexually transmitted. [she just looks at him]
Coop: [to Jenna] That's pretty sweet, huh?
Jenna: [glances at him] Yeah, the kids will be very excited. Expecially little Joey.
Coop: Joey?
Jenna: Well, he's such a big fan of yours. [Coop looks uneasy] You know, he's going into the hospital next week and he had... begged me to ask you if you could come by for a visit sometime, but... you know why it it's not a good idea...
Coop: Ohh, I'd I'd [love] to come by. [grins]
Remer: Hey, I'll come by. I like hospitals.
Coop: [looks at him annoyed] No you don't! You like Taco Bell!
Remer: No, really, I went to this hospital one time in France and got to go with this really hot chick.
Coop: Dude, that was a hostel.
Remer: Oh, yeah. [thinks]
Denslow: And finally, of course, my beloved Beers, [Cain smiles at Yvette] I bequeath controlling interest to... [Coop turns to Jenna once more] Joseph R. Cooper. [Coop looks at the screen. Remer looks at him. Everyone else is shocked, Yvette looks betrayed]
Remer: [rises and pumps his arms] Yes, we own the team!
Yvette: [dismayed] I gave him the best three months of my life. [begins to cry. Remer rises and turns around. Squeak, behind him, also rises]
Squeak: Sweet! [double hi-fives Remer. Coop is stunned]
Remer: [punches Coop on the ribs and sits donw] Way to go, dude!
Denslow: And Coop?
Coop: Yes, Mr. Denslow?
Denslow: I know you have it in ya to lead the Beers to victory this season. Because if you don't, the team reverts to Yvette. [Cain reaches over and holds Yvette's left hand with his right one]
Cain: Don't feel badly about losing the team. I believe this is merely a temporary situation.
Yvette: [places her right hand on his and gives him an intimate, knowing look] Thank you, Mr. Cain. It's nice to have a strong, handsome man like you, on my side.
Cain: [quick sigh] Well yes, I'd love to discuss this further with you. Why don't you... visit sometime. Maybe we could uh... lay some carpet. If you know what I mean... [Yvette slowly smiles and Cain smiles back]
Denslow: At this time I'd like to ask everyone to leave the room so I can have a private moment with Coop. [knowing Denslow can't do a thing about it, no one moves from his seat] Now that we're alone, Coop, there's somethin' I wanna tell ya. Remember when you had the crabs [everyone gasps] and the only thing that made you feel better was this lotion? [Coop gestures apologetically to Jenna] Well I found another use for it. [unbuttons his shirt] It feels so good it makes me wanna sing! [the opening bars of "Catwalk" begins to play] Just like that night we spent in the tattoo parlor in Chicago! [Coop shakes his head in disbelief and hides his face. Groans rise from the guests. Yvette is disgusted] Come on, baby! I'm... too sexy for my shirt. Too sexy for my shirt! [rubs lotion on his chest] So sexy it hurts! [Coop sinks in his seat] And I'm... too sexy for my car. Too sexy for my car! Too sexy by far!!!
Remer: [to Jenna, Squeak, whoever else] Are you gettin' this?
[Cain International Sports Enterprises. "America's Finest Teams." A shot of Yvette banging something or someone on the company's office floor. The camera moves up and out to reveal her setting a carpet in place. She's earing a gold lamé dress and a knee pad on her left knee for protection from the driving tool she's using.]
Yvette: [panting] That's two rooms done. [the camera moves to include Cain in the shot, but he's sitting in an executive chair] Boy, those corners are tricky.
Cain: You've done a fine job, Yvette. [she grins back in appreciation, then rises and walks around, stopping behind him] Now, as I was saying, I think I've come up with a plan to make sure that Coop never wins that Denslow Cup.
Yvette: [drapes her hands on Cain's shoulders and begins a massage] Oh, so then the team will be mine?
Cain: Yes.
Yvette: That's wonderful, Baxter. Do you want me to move on to the conference room?
Cain: Uh no, not yet. [her fingers caress his face and hair] But you know, I think my... lobby... could use a good buffing. If you know what I mean...
Yvette: Mmm, I know exactly what you mean. [next shot is of her trying to keep control of a buffer in the lobby, but the buffer spins around and knocks down a trophy stand. She turns off the buffer and walks away quick] God I can't do this shit!
[The Beers Garden, game day. A banner reading "Mliwaukee Journal Sentinel" is pasted onto the upper deck. The camera pans across the bleachers and onto the field]
Michaels: And the Beers coming up to bat for the first time in this season opener against Miami. A game they have dedicated to Ted Denslow. [the players wait for their turns.] The team, wearing black in memory of the late Beers owner.
Costas: The Beers cheerleaders, also mourning the loss. [they walk out wearing black negligée and panty hose, then move around suggestively as a group] Mm.
Michaels: Mmm. Mm? [begins clearing his throat. Costas looks over. The girls continue their dance. In the dugout Coop spits out a wad of tobacco.]
Remer: Dude. It's a whole different ballgame now that you own the team.
Coop: Yeah. I was just thinkin', Denslow was right. This season could be different. [picks up his LA-Z-BOY baseketball] We just gotta kick some ass. We're playing to keep this team. You up for it?
Remer: Dude, I'm in! All or nothing! [forms a fist with his left hand. Coop forms a fist with his right, and they smack fists together. Coop removes his clump of tobacco from his mouth and hands it to Remer, who promptly starts chewing it, then spits out a wad]
Costas: And joining us in the booth this evening, big fan of baseketball, Tony Nocciolino, who plays, as you know, Latino cut-up Scooter, on the new hit comedy series "What's the Difference" airing between "Recycled Junk" starring Lisa Campbell, and "Same Ol' Crap" featuring teen heartthrob Mark Svenson, all part of the great fall lineup on our network's "Who gives a rat's ass?" Thursdays.
Michaels: [warmly] And Tony, it is great to have you with us. [Tony is about to say something, but Costas speaks first]
Costas: So, Miami takes the field and we're underway. [Two Miami players fuss over a ringing cell phone. The fat player fiddles with it]
Fit Player: Corte! Corte! ["Shut it off! Shut it off!" The fat player can't figure out how. Coop arrives and the other player notices] Here, let me answer it. [takes the phone and walks off. The fat player faces Coop as the crowd begins chanting "Coop!"]
Opponent: Cuidado, puto! ["Careful, prick!"] Te pego duro, ["I'll hit you hard!"] bonehead! Idiota! [Coop shakes it off, not knowing Spanish, and makes the shot]
Costas: It's good!
Coop: Yeah! [takes first base]
Remer: Yes!
Michaels: And the Beers are off to a promising start tonight. [Remer sprints out of the dugout with a baseketball as the crowd cheers] And this game is made all the more special by the fact it's Free-Range Chicken Night. [Attendees are each given a chicken to take home]
Costas: Beers up by two, but the Dealers are threatening here with one out. [the fit player now walks up with his baseketball] And that brings up Enrique Hernandez. [the other players have taken to eating spit-roasted chicken with their beers. Three live chickens stand before the portable spit. The crowd begins chanting "White Power!"]
Coop: Hey, Hernandez, look. [holds up a lard bag filled with a whilte liquid] It's fat liposuction out of Brando's ass. Aw, Aww! [takes out a straw from his back pocket and sticks it into the back] Noo! What am I doing here? Aw- [begins sucking up the fluid] Aw! It's all salty and warm! Oh, why would I do this?? [sips] Aww, this guy ate a lot of pork! [Hernandez shoots] Aww! [scores, and Coop looks back] Damnit!
Remer: Dude, I thought it was a killer psych-out.
Coop: Really? This is sick...
Remer: Just ssshake it off, shake it off. I got this guy. [Coop walks off sipping more of Brando's fat. A Miami player walks up] Yo! Gomez! [Gomez sets up to shoot] Got milk? [begins to squeeze some milk out of a hidden pouch and onto Gomez's face as Gomez shoots] Yeah, you like that, don'tcha? [the shot misses and Coop takes the rebound]
Michaels: Coop tips and it's... GOOD! Double-play. Beers win. And Remer is still nailing down that psych-out! [Remer has more milk left to squirt on Gomez. Squeak vigorously simulates copulation]
[Season opener, post-game. The players have changed to their street clothes. Coop and Remer walk through the dugout and back to the field. Chickens mill about]
Coop: Dude, we totally kicked ass.
Remer: Yeah, and this is just the start. [they notice a boy walking up with a chicken]
Boy: Doug, could you sign my chicken? [Remer takes the chicken and signs it as boy and mom watch]
Cain: [holds out his hand] Yo Cooper! Baxter Cain. [Coop holds out his hand and Cain covers that with his left hand, sealing the shake, then releases Coop's hand]
Coop: Oh, Cain. Yeah, Denslow told me about you.
Cain: I want to take this opportunity to welcome you to our community of owners. And if there's anything that you need, don't hesitate to ask.
Coop: Thanks, dude. Later. [turns and walks away]
Cain: Uh, Coop, we're going to be voting next week on making uh some changes in baseketball rules, and I wanna be able to tell the others that you're with us. [catches up. They then walk together]
Coop: Why? I think baseketball is fine the way it is.
Cain: Of course, in some respects. But until we allow teams to move cities and players to change teams, and take advantage of lucrative corporate tie-ins, I'm afraid you and your colleagues are gonna have to continue working for... [looks down. A chicken is eating some feed at Coop's feet. Some wranglers are trying to round up the remaining chickens. Cain reaches down and grabs something while keeping his eyes on Coop]
Coop: [looks at Cain's hand] Chicken poo?
Cain: Ugh! Feed. Chicken feed. [a vacuum cleaner is heard, and gets louder and louder, making Cain yell louder to be heard] Coop, the ball is in your court. In order for those rules to change, every owner has to vote yes. [the vacuum cleaner has a large yellow hose attached to it, and it sucks up any chicken in its way. One man operates the front end] Now, Denslow was already filthy rich. He didn't need the changes, but you do! [the sound of a chicken being ground to bits is heard. A puff of chicken feathers explode from the back end, which is being handled by another worker, of the hose.]
Coop: Look, I appreciate what you're saying, but you ask me to go against every reason we created this game. [turns and walks off again. Another chicken is sucked up]
Cain: Well, before you go making any hasty decisions, I suggest you discuss it with your teammate.
Coop: I don't have to. We're best friends. We think alike. Look, sorry, but if you want unanimous consent, you're gonna have to get it from one of the other owners.
Cain: [puzzled, whispering] One of the other owners... [strokes his upper lip and leaves chicken poo there]
[a shot of a train moving down the tracks. Next shot is of the New Jersey Informants cheerleaders]
Informant 56: You gonna take these mooks out or what?!
Informant 19: Yeah!! Let me handle this one!
Informant 56: In the river baby!
Informant 19: Forget about it!
Informant 56: Come on! [they set up to defend against Coop]
Informant 19: Yo Coop! Your mother's a terrible cook! [they laugh, but Coop just takes the shot and scores]
Coop: Aw yeah!
Informant 19: Damn! [Coop gives both of them the finger and goes to his base. Number 19 begins to give chase] I'm gonna kick you ass, man!
Informant 56: [restraining him] Hey hey, take it easy! [next scene is the Informant's turn up. A player prepares to shoot as Remer seems to be masturbating at someone in the crowd. The Informant glances back, then looks forward. Remer tries more vigorously]
Informant: ...Can't gross me out, Remer.
Remer: Oh yeah? Well check out Coop! [Coop pulls out some aluminum foil, rips it off its roller, wads it up, and starts chewing it up in a rabid manner. The Informant shoots and stumbles, missing the shot. A window on the garage door shatters as the ball hits it]
[a shot of a train moving down the tracks across a bay. Next stop: San Francisco Ferries. The cheerleaders here are all men in T-shirts and boxers. They rip off their T-shirts to show off their buff bodies. An umpire skates by to make sure the shot is set up]
Remer: Hey Zane. [quickly goes up to whisper in his ear longingly] I wanna feel ya... [the cheerleaders rub their hands over their chests dreamily] ...deep inside me!
Zane: [shoots and misses] Ugh!
Remer: Yeah! [the cheerleaders express their dismay]
Zane: [protesting to the ump] He can't do that! That's not fair, man!
Coop: Aw, come on, Zane, that was- [looks around, making sure no one is feeling his ass, then goes back into position] That was fair, you know that. Come on, let's play ball. [faces his own shooter] Hey Watson, have you seen those, uh, beer commercials? [Watson puts down his guard as Coop fakes an Australian accent] "How ta speak San Franciscan" [Coop grabs Squeak and pulls down his shorts so Watson can see his ass]
Squeak: Hey. Hey!
Coop: Vajoina! [releases Squeak as Watson misses his shot. Boos from the fans and the cheerleaders as an ump comes in and throws down a flag on the play] Uh... No, that wasn't a gay joke, that was an Australian joke. Aw, aww!
[more train travel. Cain is reading the latest news on the Beers from USA Today Sports: "Beers Still Winning More and More Games" is the cover story. Next stop: San Antonio Defenders. The cheerleaders spank themselves as they go around in circles slowly. They wear coonskin caps: "Ride 'em" is their chant]
Players: Come on, let's do it! all right, what are we gonna say?! [three players huddle] One two three! Fuck the Mexicans! [The tall Defender rises and walks to a square. Remer comes out and acts like a fat man]
Remer: [with buck teeth and hick accent] Goood, guess I'll take my shot now. So I can make it so I can go home quick and smack my wife in the eye, yeppir.
Defender: Shut up, Remer. [takes his shot]
Remer: Well, shut yer moouuth bitch or I'll- [turns to see the ball fall in]
Defender: Yeah! Yes! all right! Take that, Remer! [takes his base as the crowd cheers on]
Remer: [removes his mouthpiece and throws it down] Shit! [Coop walks up to his opponent and starts making a snare drum sound. He whips up his left hand with the middle finger sticking up. Then he whips out a small bolt cutter in his right hand, snaps it open, and proceeds to snip off his middle finger at the second knuckle]
Defender: Oh. Uuuugh.
Coop: [succeeds after some effort, and the stump begins to squirt out blood] Awwwwwgh! Awwwwwgh! [the Defender throws up as the crowd shrieks in horror] Awwww! Oh my eye! My eye! Awwww! [the Defender coughs and throws the ball away]
Someone: You're sick, Cooper!! [more disgusted crowd reaction. Coop removes the fake hand as he and Remer hug in victory]
[A medical center, day. Jenna reads next to a bed-ridden boy from the book "Women Who Run With Wolves"]
Jenna: "If a woman wants a mate who is responsive, she will reveal to him the secret of a woman's duality." [a male nurse does his duties. Coop walk by the room, hears Jenna's voice and looks in. He carries a bowling bag] "She will tell him about the interior woman, that one who, added to herself, makes two." [noticing a new presence, she looks up. She rises as Coop draws near.] Hi, I I didn't expect that you'd come.
Coop: I just thought I'd come to say hi to our little friend Joey.
Jenna: Oh. What, you know what? He's, he's sleeping and I really wanted to finish this book, I'm sor-
Coop: [walks around her to Joey's side] Well, maybe it'll make him feel better.
Jenna: Uh, w-w-well-
Coop: Joey? [Joey stirs, but not much else]
Jenna: Joey? [Joey looks up] Look who's here.
Joey: My biological father?
Coop: No dude, it's me. Joe Cooper.
Joey: [excited] Coop?? Coop, is it really you??
Coop: [open smile] Yeah, it's me.
Joey: Wow. I watched all your road games. Your psych-outs are the best.
Coop: Thanks dude. Hehuh...
Joey: Coop, what's a vajoina?
Coop: Uh... So uh, what seems to be the problem... with you, guy?
Joey: I'm... m going to die.
Coop: [upbeat] ...Well, we're all gonna die.
Joey: Yeah, but not this week.
Jenna: Joey, wha
