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        (Edgar Von Awesome sits in a bus depot a few blocks away from the Friday Debate studio.  He pulls out his phone         and dials a number. He gets an automated message.)

I’m sorry the person you are trying to reach “Mark Buerhle” cannot be reached from this number due to a restraining order.  Please stop trying to call it and take a hint.
EDGAR: Damn... still.

        (Edgar dials a new number.  It rings on his end.  He hears a faint sound coming from outside the depot. The phone rings on his end again and again he hears what he identifies now as a faint sound of music.  A voicemail answers.)

Voice Mail: Hi you’ve reached BS--
        (Edgar hangs up and redials, walking outside as he does.  He hears a Alanis Morrisette song playing faintly from somewhere close.  The phone rings in his ear again, and again he hears the shrill vocals of the jaded songstress.  Edgar traces it to a dumpster out back of the depot.  He opens it to reveal BS “The Kangaroo” Chwartz” laying in a pile of         garbage.)

I do think it’s ironic, Alanis, I do.
EDGAR: Holy crap.  Are you drunk at 9 AM?
BS: No I was drunk on Saturday.
EDGAR:  You were drunk since last saturday?
BS: I was just out celebrating our first debate-- TO THE DEBATE!

        (BS pulls a near empty Forty out of the garbage and downs the rest of it.)

EDGAR: That was TWO weeks ago.  
BS: You missed the show?
EDGAR: We need to get you some coffee.

        (BS and Edgar stumble into a nearby diner.  They find a booth near window, where they order a hearty well balanced breakfast, we rejoin them just as they finish they’re meal.)

(Shoving the last of his chocolate chip pancakes into his mouth.)  So let me get this straight... you’ve been drunk since you got home?
BS: It would appear that way.
EDGAR: But you called me last week.
BS: I did?
EDGAR: Wow.  So do you even know what’s going on in sports?
BS: I’m guessing the Tigers, Mets, and Cubs are all firmly in the lead of their respective divisions.
EDGAR: Ummmm... yeah... not quite.
BS: I must have missed a lot.  What’s going on in the NBA Playoffs?
EDGAR: Michael Jordan retired.
BS: Oh come on, you have to know something... Anything?  How about the Atlanta Hawks?
EDGAR: Oh, well, Dominique Wilkins retired.
BS: Do you even watch sports?
EDGAR: Sure!  You’ll be happy to know Chipper Jones is hitting like four thousand and something, and Andruw Jones is hitting just above his show size.  The Marlins, Cardinals, and White Sox are all in first in their divisions--
BS: Whoa! What?
BS: The MARLINS?  Without the great Dontrelle?  Without the defensive juggernaut Miguel Cabrera?
EDGAR: Who’d a thunk, eh?
BS: Wait.  Isn't it Friday today?
EDGAR: What?  Yeah.
BS: Aren’t we missing our show?
EDGAR: OH riiiiiight.  You don’t know about that then.
BS: What?
EDGAR: Josh and Dan booted us from the studio.  AND took all of our booze.
EDGAR: Rough, huh?
BS:  Why?
EDGAR: I think they were afraid we were going to be funnier.
BS: Well we are.
EDGAR: Thats what I said.
BS: Wait, weren’t you supposed to have Mark Buerhle on last week?
EDGAR: Oh, yeah, he’s dead.  The bartender shot him.  I never want to hear that name again.... you call a guy three or four hundred times and suddenly you’re a weirdo...
BS: What?
EDGAR: Nothing.  Alls I know is they changed the locks and we’re barred from the studio and our show.
BS: They can’t do that.  We have a contract that grants us full rights to the studio.
EDGAR: Yeah... but they’re Josh and Dan.
BS: I say we go over there, break in and do our show anyways.
EDGAR: Lets do it!

        (Edgar gets up to leave.)

BS: Hey, shouldn’t we pay the check first?
EDGAR: Oh, I don’t have any money I was planning on running.

        (Edgar runs out the door as fast as he can.  BS rolls his eyes and reluctantly follows.  Once outside they run into the alley and clear of anyone who may have followed them.)

BS: So what else did I miss?
EDGAR: Well the Cowboys found themselves a star D-Back.
BS: Oh really, who?
EDGAR: Pacman Jones.
BS: That’s there star D-Back?
EDGAR: Well, he is good.
BS: Yeah, he’ll be good at keeping the Dallas area strip clubs open.
EDGAR: So you wouldn’t want him on your team because he goes to strip clubs?
BS: No, I’ve gone to strip clubs... who hasn’t?  However, I’ve never had assault or weapons charges against me while at a strip club.
EDGAR: So a players conduct off the field should dictate his position (hehehee) on the field?
BS: Absolutely.  If he should be in jail, he should not be allowed to play football.
EDGAR: Well, I just flat out disagree.  A persons personal life, should have nothing to do with their work life, as long as they are kept seperate.  Last I checked, Pacman didn’t bring strippers and guns into the locker room.  Football should have nothing to do with his punishment.
BS: What about Vick?
EDGAR: He’s in jail.  Can’t play from jail.  The laws of our society took care of him.
BS: So the Players code of conduct shouldn’t matter?
EDGAR: Absolutely not.  They should be treated equally.  Would you be fired from your job if you got into a bar fight?
BS: It depends on who’s involved, I may get a court marshall.
EDGAR: Bad example.  I, in the normal citizens world, would not expect to be fired from my job for a bar fight.
BS: You’d actually have to have a job first.
EDGAR: Touche`
BS: Besides, if Pacman Jones was an everyday working class citizen, first he’d be mocked all the time for having a stupid name, second he’d be in a much larger legal mess for what he did.  There’s a societal standard for how we treat professional athletes, they should be expected to maintain a certain level of behavior in return.
EDGAR: I personally disagree, but that’s what debating is about isn’t it?
BS: Sure.  So, did I miss anything else in football?
EDGAR: Well, the Dolphins selected one of them Longs in the draft.  
BS: WHAT?! I missed the Draft?  What kind of human being am I? Who’d the Broncos pick?
EDGAR: What? who’dida the howdada? You didn’t miss the draft.  They signed him.
BS: What?
BS:Oh, you’re lying to me.
EDGAR: No. HAHA.  Two longs! HAHAHA!
BS: Wow you really tried to hold that one in.
EDGAR: Tried...
BS: Now tell me about Jake Long.
BS: Are you done?
EDGAR: I’m sorry. funny.  
BS: I Barely see how thats funny.
EDGAR: It’s long, you know, as in long schlong.
BS: No, I get the joke.  I barely see how it’s funny.
EDGAR: Oh, that’s cause you have no sense of humor.  BUT, as I was saying...Since they were the first pick in the draft they were allowed to negotiate, and they signed him.  They have the first pick, whose gonna take him, I guess....
BS: That’s boring.  takes all the fun out of it.
EDGAR: What fun?
BS: The Draft.
EDGAR: Who cares about the draft?
BS: I do.  So do a lot of Americans.
EDGAR: Well, your all boring.  Who cares about all that?  Why do I want to watch and find out what overhyped draft bust will become the next millionaire?  It’s boring dull and a waste of my time.
BS: OH COME ON!  Don’t you care about what can’t miss running back the Bears will draft this year?  What if they draft a The next Brett Favre?
EDGAR: Theres this thing called the world wide web.  Not sure if you’ve heard of it.  I’ll just look it up.
BS: So why don’t you just look up the box scores on White Sox games, why do you NEED to watch them?
EDGAR: Well, for one, they’re fun to watch.  For two, thats where drama is, that’s where the game is.  It’s about the plays, the action.  It’s not about a bunch of suits in New York.  
BS:  But don’t you wanna know who’s gonna be making those plays and that action?  
EDGAR: I don’t care who makes the plays.  It’s about my team, my city.  It’s about the game.  Thats what I care about.  Don’t give me this “And with the 12th pick in the Washington Redskins draft I. M. Vasltyoverratedson.  And with the 13th the Eagles pick Will Blowmykneeoutski.”
BS: Well, I’M glad I didn’t miss it.
EDGAR: Then you watch your little draft and I’ll go to a baseball game.
BS: Fine.

BS: You know, we just actually debated for a while there!

EDGAR: Whoa you're right! We should save some of that for the show! 

        (They arrive at the back door of the Friday Debate Studios.)

BS: So have you tried your keys in the lock, or did you just assume they weren’t screwing with you?
EDGAR: Of course I tried it, you don’t think I’m an idiot do you.
BS: Why would I ever think that.

        (BS looks down the quiet street, Edgar discreetly tries his key in the lock.)

BS: (Looking back) So, have you ever picked a lock?
EDGAR: No, I thought you’d know how to do it, with all your super army training.
BS: That was years ago, I don’t remember any of that.  Besides, I don’t wanna get my fingerprints all over the doorknob.
EDGAR: hehe knob.

        (Edgar crouches down by the doorknob and pulls a paperclip from his pocket.  He bends and twists it and starts randomly jabbing the clip into the doorknob.  He does not notice that BS had disappeared around the corner and come back with a large rock, which he proceeds to throw the key into the window next to the door.)

EDGAR: That’s one way you could do it, I suppose.  You could get in big trouble for destruction of property.
BS: They cops’ll never trace me.  They don’t have my prints.
EDGAR: Good point.

    (Edgar reaches through the broken window and unlock the door.  He swings it open, and they enter.  BS goes signaling to Edgar to stay quiet. BS takes a few more steps, before hearing a noise.  He starts flashing combat signs to Edgar, as     if he would understand any of them.)

EDGAR: (whispering) Like I know what you’re saying?
BS: (whispering) Just shut up and follow me.

        (BS goes to a door that is stenciled “Storage”, with a piece of masking tape with the word “Alkihall” scrawled on it in sharpie.  BS listens carefully to the door, hearing a muffled voice singing Chumbawumba’s greatest hit, or at least one line of it. BS jiggles the handle, looking curiously at Edgar when he realizes it’s unlocked.  BS opens the door and there is Josh, laying on top of four kegs of Guinness, a vase half full of beer in one hand and a shoe full in the other.)

BS: What in the wide wide world of sports is a’going on here?
JOSH: Hey! Those guys said beer go bad.
EDGAR: What?
JOSH: The beer guy said, the beer guy in the storage guy would go bad if I din’t drink it.
BS: Wait, when was this?
JOSH: I was setting up for the show, and Mark Suerlhe.
BS: Josh, have you been drinking all week?
JOSH: No... your FACE has been drinking all week.

BS: Fun isn't it?

EDGAR: Wait...Wheres Dan?
JOSH: I dunno?  He had a beer, and then just Poofed! Haven’t seen him in
EDGAR: Who would trick a FanNation legend like this into drinking his whole week away?
BS: You.
EDGAR: Yeah, but I don’t count because someone else sent me this letter and changed the locks.
BS: Oh... so who else would want to gain access to the studio?
EDGAR: You don’t think?
BS: That’s exactly what I was thinking.  It’s--

        (A slow clap, comes from around the corner as Mac slowly comes round into sight.)

MAC: Bravo.  Bravo. Bra-vo.
EDGAR: (whispering to BS) He said “bra”.
BS: Shut up.
MAC: Couldn’t have just taken the hint, eh? Face facts kids, you gotta be dirty to get ahead.  And you weren’t dirty.
EDGAR: What are you talking about?  I must have said poop a few times, or forms of it.
MAC: That’s not what I mean.  In order to control the blog you must control the producers.  We found Josh’s secret weakness.
EDGAR:  That was a secret?
MAC: Josh has already signed a 10 year contract with us to allow us to sieze complete and immediate control over the blog.  
EDGAR: So got him so drunk he’d sign over the rights?
MAC: Yes.
EDGAR: So it was you who sent me the note in the manilla folder?
EDGAR: To keep us away from the studio...
EDGAR: Then it was you that crapped in my cereal?
MAC: YES!-- Wait, no that one wasn’t me.  But the rest were me.
EDGAR: Damn... who did that then?
BS: But Mac, why?  And, How?
VOICE: I believe I can answer those questions.
        (Stepping from around the corner comes BigBen.)

BigBen: You see, we knew we could do a better version of the debate.
EDGAR: And so you just took it?
BigBen: Would you have given it up willfully?
BS: No.
EDGAR: Certainly not to you.
BigBen: So we devised our little scheme here and stole what is rightfully ours.
EDGAR: So you guys did a show last week?
MAC: Sort of...
BigBen: We had a little trouble... figuring out how all the switches work.
MAC: BUT, don’t you fear or fret! We will figure it out, and when we do, WE WILL RULE FANNATION!!!
BS: Crap.  You seem to have gotten us.
EDGAR: Yeah. Guess we should go home.
BS: But just one more thing, can I see the contract?
MAC: I don’t see why not.

        (Mac hands the contract over to BS.  BS. studies it very carefully.)

BS: Oh, no, this is not a legal ink.  This contract is not binding.  This was signed with Glofugen Ink.  It’s an illegal ink that is transparent in light from a flame.
MAC: Thats rediculous! Let me see that!

        (Mac snatches the contract back and looks at the signature.)

MAC: They’re lying.
BigBen: We better check... to make sure.

        (Mac pulls a lighter from his pocket and holds it close to the contract.)

MAC: They’re lying!

        (Edgar smacks Mac’s hand, lighting the contract on fire, which dissipates instantly into a ball of flame.)

BigBen: WHOA!
EDGAR: Wow that went up fast.
BS: Josh touched it, it was laced with alcohol.
MAC: So what about us?
EDGAR: What about you?
BigBen: What happens to us?  To our show?
BS: What show?  
EDGAR: You guys can have your own show, this one is ours.
MAC: I see how it is.
BS: You guys can leave now if you like.
BigBen: I wanna stay.  I feel important here.
BS: You guys can leave if you like.  Or we’ll call the cops.
BigBen: Fine, we’ll go.

        (Mac and BigBen head for the door.  Mac turns to face BS and Edgar.)

MAC: You have made a very serious enemy today friends.  OH YES! YOU HA--

        (Edgar slams the door in Mac’s face.)

BS: So what do you wanna do?

EDGAR: I don't really wanna talk sports anymore.

BS: Me neither... 

EDGAR: Should we drink?
BS: Sure.

        (By magic of story telling, they each pull a beer from their pocket and pop the tops.)

BS: This is gonna be one hell of a hang over...
EDGAR: To the Debate.
BS: To the Debate!
JOSH: (coming in from the other room with his pants around his ankles) TO KATE!


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