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(It’s Friday morning and our dear friend, Edgar Von Awesome, sits at a bar across the street from the Friday Debate studios.  He is sipping a Jack on the rocks, and routinely checking the clock mounted behind the bar.  He empties his glass and takes another look at the clock.  He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials.  The phone rings and he gets a voicemail message.) 

Voicemail:  Hi, You’ve reached BS Chwartz.  I’m not home right now, but you can leave a message after the beep…. Wait for it…. Wait for it…. And…. {BEEP}

Edgar: Hey… umm… So BS, it’s Friday… ummm… don’t know if you remember, but we have a debate show to do today.  Look I don’t know what’s going on, you’re not here and my key won’t work in the studio door.  And I’m supposed to meet Mark Buehrle any minute now. I’m really freaking out that we’re going to upset all of our fan.  I’m at Callahan’s bar across the street.  Come in here when you get this message.   Oh.  This is Edgar.

            (The bartender looks up from mixing a “blog” for himself. Edgar hangs up the phone.)

Bartender:  You said your name is Edgar?

Edgar: Yeah.

Bartender:  Got a note here for ya.

Edgar: Whose it from?

Bartender: Couldn’t tell you, someone slipped it under the door before I opened.

(The bartender hands Edgar a manilla envelope.  Edgar inspects it carefully, checking the seal to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with, sniffing it to see if someone sent him duck poo in the mail again.)

Bartender: Is this something dangerous?

Edgar: Could be… I have a lot of enemies…

(Edgar slowly rips the seal on the envelope, and the bartender slowly crouches behind the bar.)

Edgar: OH MY GOD!

            (The bartender screams and jumps out the window.)

Edgar: It’s a letter.

            (Edgar pulls out a cocktail napkin.)

Edgar: “From the desk of Josh”

            (Edgar reads quietly to himself.)

Edgar: What? This is crazy!

            (Edgar continues reading quietly to himself.)

Edgar: This is going to disappoint A LOT of our fan.

            (EDGAR YOU’RE STILL READING QUIETLY TO YOURSELF)

Edgar: What?

            (You’re reading to yourself.  Your readers have no idea what you’re reading.)

Edgar: Yeah, but why would I read something aloud if I’m all alone.

            (Edgar slaps himself in the face.)

Edgar: OW!

            (Edgar holds his fist directly above his crotch.)

Edgar: OK! OK! I get it. 

(Edgar puts his hand over the bar and grabs a full bottle of Jack Daniels, and unscrews the top.)

Edgar: I’m beginning to like this blogging thing.

            (Edgar begins to read out loud.)

Edgar: Yeah, sure, just let me have a few drinks.

(Edgar shoves a cloth napkin into the top of the Jack Daniels bottle and lights a lighter.)

Edgar: OK! So, the letter says: “Dear BS and Edgar,  We are sorry to inform you that your funding has been reallocated to build a new wing onto our mansion… and to buy more beer.”  Damn.  That sucks.

(Edgar puts away the lighter and pulls the napkin out of the bottle, taking a long swig.)

Edgar: Hey, thanks guy.

            (He continues reading…)

Edgar: “We feel the need to inform you that the locks on the studio have been changed and you are here on out banned from using any of our equipment.  However, there is an old transistor in the alley behind the studio that will allow you to continue to produce this show.  Feel free to use it.  Also, in the interest of selfishness, Dan and I have revoked your alcohol privileges.  There will no longer be free hooch.  Na-na-na-na-na, ha-ha-ha.  Get bent.  Have a good show this week.  With all the love in my heart, try making a funnier blog then us now a**holes.”

            (Damn that sucks.)

Edgar: You’re telling me.

            (Edgar takes a loooooooooooooooong pull off the bottle.)

Edgar: Thanks again, boss.

            (Hang on let me help you out.)

Edgar: With what?

            (A man with a scruffy beard comes walking in carrying an old transistor.)

Man: Hey I found this out in the alley, is this yours?

Edgar: YEAH!

Man: Hey are you Edgar Von Cool?

Edgar: Von Awesome, actually. But yes, yes I am.

Man: I’m supposed to be a guest on your show I think.

Edgar: You’re Mark Buerhle?

Man: Nope, the name is Mack Surhle.

Edgar: Last time I ever trust a dog to find me a major league star.

Mack:  I one time met Kevin Cash.  Does that count for anything?

Edgar: Yeah, a Buck sixty-eight batting average and 120 strikeouts.

Mack: Well, sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.

Edgar: Yeah well, you can go fu-

            (Suddenly Edgar has an idea.)

Edgar: I do?

            (Suddenly the narration gives Edgar an idea.)

Edgar: I’m listening…

           (He thinks, what if Mack Surhle can do a BS impression…)

Edgar: Go on…

            (How do you exist without me?)

Edgar: I’m not sure if I do…WHOA! That’s heavy…

(Moron, look it’s quite simple; if Mack can do a BS impression, you have him replace you for the duration of today’s show.)

Edgar:  Oooooooooooooooooooooh... (To Mack)  Did you hear any of that?

Mack: You talking to yourself?

Edgar: No I was talking to the narrator.

Mack: Sure.

Edgar: Look, since you were already planning on being on the show, can you pretend to be my partner?

Mack: I dunno… what’s it pay.

Edgar: All the alcohol you can drink in this bar.

Mack: I’m in.  But I have to warn you, I don’t do good impersonations.

Edgar: Nonsense, I was sure that you were Mark Buerhle.

Mack: But you’re an idiot.

Edgar: True.  Ok, how about this… can you say, “Hi I’m a big tool named BS.”

Mack: Hi, I’m a big tool named BS.

Edgar: Ok, but can you say it more Australian like?

Mack: Cheerio, Guv’nah! I’m a blimey tool name of BS!

Edgar: PERFECT!!!  Ok, important things to know: Number one, you think I’m the coolest person in the world. Number Two, you have a huge man-crush on Mark Texeira—

Mack: As big as yours on Mark Buerhle?

Edgar: Not in a million years---- WAIT, No! Oh, you’re good sir… you’re good.

Mack: I try.

Edgar: Okay, Number three, you love the braves and the broncos.

Mack: Anything else?

Edgar: Ummm… yeah, you spend a lot of time bad mouthing our bosses, Josh and Dan, and I stand up for them ALL the time.

Mack: Got it.

Edgar: Okay, grab a drink and lets get too it!

(Mack hops the bar and starts mixing himself a cosmopolitan.  He puts a cherry on top and sits down by the transistor that Edgar now has set up and ready for the show.  Edgar notices the drink in Mack’s hand.)

Edgar: Wow, you’re more like BS than I thought…

Mack: It’s really dry.

Edgar: It’s still pink, champ.

Mack: Can we just get on with this?

Edgar: Ok…

            (Edgar switches the Transistor on.)

Edgar: Cheerio, Friends!  This is Edgar “Wombat” Von Awesome…

Mack: And I’m RS.

Edgar: That’s BS.  BS.  And your full name is BS “Kangaroo” Chwartz.

Mack: How am I supposed to know that?

Edgar: Cause it’s your name!

Mack: You didn’t TELL ME THAT!

(The transistor abruptly cuts off.  Silence is heard over the airwaves.  The transistor turns back on.)

Edgar: let’s just do it again, OK? Cheerio, Friends! I am Edgar “Wombat” Von Awesome.

Mack: And I am BS “Wombat” Chwartz.

Edgar: KANGAROO! YOU’RE A F***ING KANGAROO!!! (he takes a deep breath) Ok… we’ll just move on.  Let’s get to some callers… 

(Edgar realizes that there is no way that they can have callers on the air this week since there is no equipment, you idiot.)

Edgar: Son of a Bi---

Mack: HEY! Why don’t we just talk sports or something?

Edgar: That’s good thinking Mack, er, BS.

Mack: Well, I saw that there was a NASCAR race this coming weekend—

Edgar: And I saw that there was someone who gave a crap south of the mason-dixon line.

Mack: Ok… How about the NFL draft?

Edgar: How about you remember your place?  MY SHOW!

Mack: Right, your show. 

Edgar: Right.

Mack: So…

Edgar: So….

Mack: (talking softly) Look I’m no professional but don’t you think it’d be a good idea to actually run a show?

Edgar: (talking softly) Good point fake BS. What should we talk about?

Mack: (still talking softly) How does this BS guy think you’re so cool?

Edgar: You shut up!

Mack: Right.  Ok… you wanna talk baseball?

Edgar:  YEAH! That’s a great idea!

            (pause)

Mack: You gonna talk?

Edgar: Oh, right.  Wow, you’re a real good fake BS—REAL BS!  You’re a really good REAL BS.

Mack: Thanks, Eli.

Edgar: The name is Edgar.

Mack: Sorry.

Edgar: Anyways, Baseball season is now almost three weeks old.  And we have some BIG surprises sitting atop the divisions.  Lets talk leaders.  Whose playing for real and who’s playing pretend?

Mack: Me.

Edgar: Not if you keep this up, I may have to replace BS--- I mean… you may have to… be the real…BS, or you BS will… ummm…. ---- Lets start with the AL Central.  The leader there is the Chicago White Sox, why don’t you start.

Mack: Speaking of, didn’t you say Mark Buerhle would be here?

Edgar: He turned out to be a worthless piece of sh—

Mack: I could leave.

Edgar: Yeah, umm… he had to cancel.  We’ll try to get him next week.

Mack: Well, then I won’t feel uncomfortable saying, Frauds.

Edgar: I’m gonna knife you.

Mack: Look, the White Sox are a good team, I’ll give you that.  But they aren’t going to win this division.  Not by a long shot.  They’ve been helped by a couple of good starts from Gavin Floyd and Jon Danks.  Those two aren’t going to be putting up those kind of starts all year.  On top of that, your ace, and love, Mark Buerhle, isn’t looking too sharp.  The offense can’t keep the pace their on right now, and there’s a team in Cleveland that is much, MUCH, better than they are playing right now.

Edgar: Wow.  You’re good.

Mack: Is that your retort?

Edgar: No, no.  I’m going to say they’re for real and they will at least be in contention for the division at the end of the season.  Floyd has looked sharp.  He nearly no-hit a potent Tigers offense—

Mack: That’s currently last in the Majors.

Edgar: Doesn’t matter.  Those hitters are good.  And for him to throw 7+ no-hit innings, that’s something.  He’s pitching with a confidence we haven’t seen yet.  Vazquez has been one of the tops in the league in strike outs and Contreras is pitching better than he has in a long time.  The Pen is expensive but they’re showing that they’re worth it.  As for our hitters, Swisher is doing exactly what he needs to, fighting off pitches and getting on base, his OBP is well over .400.  The offense can’t hold this pace?  Have you seen who’s holding this team up?  It’s Pierzynski and Crede, two guys that weren’t expected to give them much this year.  Meanwhile the REAL big bats, just haven’t gotten going yet.  Once Thome and Konerko start hitting their stride, you watch out.

Mack: They’re old.  No chance.

Edgar: Look this team is better than everyone thinks.  I’m telling you.  I say they’re for real.

Mack: I say pretend.  Let’s move on.

Edgar: In the AL East we have the Yankees and Red Sox, are we surprised fake BS?

Mack: No sir, real Edgar.  I’m gonna have to say that both teams are for real.  Both teams have far too much offense.  The Red Sox seem to have the real thing in Dice-K.  And the best pitcher in the AL, Josh Beckett is back and ready. The Yanks have a bonified ace in Chien-Meng Wang.  A-Rod is hitting the ball hard.  So is Abreu, AND Matsui.  Too much offense on this Yankees team to keep them out.

Edgar: Ok, I’ll give you the Red Sox are for real.  Although Beckett is overrated.  I’ve said it a hundred times and I still say it.  You’re right though.  Too much balance and a much better Dice-K than I had expected makes me think that this Red Sox team is again destined for a late October run.  The Yankees on the other hand, I say Fraud.  Wang (hahahahaha) is the only thing this team has in hopes of pitching--- UNTIL, wait for it Yankers, UNTIL Joba Chamberlain breaks into the rotation.  But then their bullpen is weak and the starters will be expected to work more.  I just don’t see them holding on for 140 some more games; especially not in such a strong division.

Mack: Okay, I say Both real. You say Sawx Real, Bombers Pretenders.

Edgar: Shall we move on then?

Mack: Lets.  But I’m gonna fix myself a drink first.

Edgar: Well then, why don’t I move on without you.  AL West.  On top of the division are the Anaheim Angels and the Oakland A’s.  Angels, well, I thought at the beginning of the season that they’d take this division with little trouble, and I still believe it.  Real.  But now those pesky A’s.  I have to say fake.  Too young.  This team is, in my opinion, much like the Orioles and Royals, a young team off to a great start.  You see it in Florida too.  Young teams come out to hot starts and everyone says “wow they’re really great” and then they eat a big turd sandwich.  162 games is a long time to stay hot, and these type of teams always turn into what they are, cellar dwellers.  The A’s will slip and Beane will trade away his big money players before the deadline.  You back Cosmo?

Mack: Yep.  I heard everything you said, and agree with everything you said.

Edgar: Boring, but okay, lets move on.  NL Central, leader: St. Louis Cardinals.

Mack: Pretending.  Old.  Pujols is a beast, I’ll give you that.  But Rick Ankiel?  Troy Glaus?  They’re both destined for stints on the DL.  Mark my words on that.  When that happens, the offense will be Pujols and as good as he is, it’s just not good enough. And Pitching?  Lohse, Looper, Wainwright?  You actually think they can keep up those stats?

Edgar: Hey Wainwright is downright filthy, and Lohse is a decent pitcher.  He won’t stay this hot, but he’s good.

Mack: So are you saying they’re for real?

Edgar: No.  They’re better than many people expected, yes.  But I’m not sold on them winning the division.  But in the weakest division in baseball, they have a shot.

Mack: You’re wavering here.

Edgar: Fine, I’ll go out on a limb and say yes.  They are for Real.  They’ll be in the race with the offensive powerhouse Brewers and the Cubs who have shown good things, but still have some big question marks in the rotation.  The Cards will benefit from being in a weak division.  I say REAL.

Mack: Wow.

Edgar: What can I say, I’m crazy.  But lets move one.  Let’s talk NL East; where the Marlins lead.

Mack: Fake, Fraud, B.S.

Edgar: HEY THAT’S MY PARTNERS NAME!

Mack: Whoa, you’re… ummm?

Edgar: No my blogging partner!

Mack: Sure… I’m gonna have another drink why don’t you talk more about the marlins.

Edgar: You don’t want to add anything, BS?

Mack: Who? Oh me.  Wait, yeah, I’m your blogging partner… yeah… Ummmm… Yeah, Marlins suck and the Braves are the best team in the world.  Mark Texeira is the best.  Woo, Braves.  I’m gonna get another drink.

Edgar: Okay, Well, I said a little about how I thought the Marlins are just another one of those young teams who get to a hot start and then fall apart.  Too much… hey grab me a beer would you?

Mack: Yeah.

Edgar: Where was I? 

Mack: Ummmm… NL West?

Edgar: Yeah, Diamondbacks.

Mack: Wanna do shots?

Edgar: Lets do it up!  You know, you’re a lot more fun then the real BS, you want to be his replacement?

Mack: Sure! 

(Mack grabs a bottle of tequila and sets two shot glasses on the bar and pours them to the top.)

Edgar: So the Diamondbacks, real or pretend?

Mack: REAL!

                (They hold the glasses up and then shoot um back.  Mack immediately pours two more.) 

Mack: What do you think?

Edgar: REAL!

                (They throw the shots back, slamming the glasses back onto the table.  Mack immediately pours                     them again.  They fail to hear the bartenders footsteps outside.)

Edgar: Any particular reasoning?

Mack: BRANDON WEBB! 

(They throw them back, slamming the glasses again.  Mack refills them again.  STILL FAILING TO HEAR THE BARTENDER OUTSIDE!)

Edgar: Wait, I think the narration is trying to tell me something again…

Mack: DANNY HAREN! 

(Mack throws the shot back just as the Bartender burst through the door holding a .44 Smoke-wagon)

Bartender: What are you doing behind my bar, punk?

Mack: MICAH OWINGS! 

(Mack tosses another shot back, as the bartender fires twice into his chest killing him instantly.  Mack’s lifeless body crumples to the floor breaking the bottle of tequila and sending glass spraying all over the floor.  Edgar’s phone rings.  He glances down at Mack as he reaches into his pocket for his phone.  The bartender gives him an evil stare as he comes around to the back of the bar.  Edgar just smiles as he answers the phone.)

Edgar: Hello?... BS!.... what?... Oh, no, no problem.  I took care of the show, don’t worry… what’s that?... oh, still traveling back, huh?... no, no… it’s fine.  Well, we’ll have to talk Draft next week.  Yeah, oh, and ummmm… Mark Buerhle isn’t going to be on the show… yeah… well… yeah…. Alright… well, Cheerio.

            (Edgar hangs up the phone.) 

Bartender: We have some drinks to settle up for.

Edgar:  Look, I work for the studio across the street.  It’s called Josh and Dan’s Friday Debate Productions.  They’ll cover all of these drinks… if not, well, here’s Josh’s personal address, he can settle it up. 

Bartender: Well, someone is going to settle it up.

Edgar: Yeah…well, look, do you need my help cleaning up at all?

Bartender: What?  This guy?  Don’t worry, happens more often than you’d think.  I’ll take care of it.  I have a way of making problems disappear.

Edgar: Oh, great! Well, maybe I’ll have another drink.

            (Edgar get’s up and leaves.) 

Edgar: Just one more?

            (LEAVE YOU IDIOT!) 

Edgar: Right, right.  Well, umm, have a nice day, I guess.

            (Edgar flips the switch on the transistor and walks out.)

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