Sunday, October 7, 2007

Apocalypse Lou



This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end
Of our elaborate plans, the end
Of everything that stands, the end
No safety or surprise, the end
I'll never look into your eyes...again
Can you picture what will be
So limitless and free
Desperately in need...of some...stranger's hand
In a...desperate land
Lost in a Roman...wilderness of pain
And all the children are insane
All the children are insane
Waiting for the summer rain, yeah

Hotel Room, Chicago, Illinois. Clothes and garbage strewn
haphazardly all over the floor. Broken bottle of cheap vodka
spills onto the floor. Code Red Sits up.
He clearly hasn't shaved for days.

Code Red:

Chicago, shit. I'm still only in Chicago.
Every time I think I'm going to wake up back at school.
When I was home after the playoffs in 2003,
it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing...
I hardly said a word to my friends until the next
season opener. When I was here I wanted to be there.
When I was there, all I could think of was
getting back into the playoffs.
I've been here a week now. Waiting for a victory,
getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room I get
weaker. And every minute the Diamondbacks were on the
field they got stronger. Each time I look around the
walls move in
a little tighter.

Everyone gets everything he wants. I wanted the playoffs,
and for my sins they gave me one series..
Brought it up to me like room service..
and died like the dogs they were.

*knock on the door*
Voices outside: Code Red? Sir, are you the blogger Code Red?

Code Red: Whaddya want?

Voices outside: Sir, we have orders to escort you to Wrigley
Field.

Code Red: Why? What did I do to have to go back there??

Door opens, Cubs intern walks in.

Intern: Nothing you did sir, but the Cubs gave you a token
playoff appearance. They need you to do something for them now.

Cut to: Wrigley Field, Office of the General Manager

Code Red enters room. Sitting behind desk is Jim Hendry,
Cubs general manager, frantically swallowing donuts whole.

Code Red: You..wanted to see me, sir?

Jim (talking with food stuffed in mouth): Yesh, we neesh you
to do shomething.

Code Red: I am ready for duty, sir.

Jim: Are you aware of a Mr. Lou Piniella?

Code Red: Yes sir, I think we all are.
Jim (to an intern): Play the tape, Scott. Listen carefully

Tape: 0230 Hours, Chicago, Following Cubs Loss to Diamondbacks
in Game 3 of the NLDS

Jim: The voice on the recording has been confirmed to be Lou's.

Lou (on tape): I uh uh watched a uh uh Mark DeRosa uh you
know ground into a double play on a 3-1 count with
the uh bases uh loaded. That is my uh, you know, nightmare.
To be so close..and to ground out..

Jim: He had the following to say about our team and its fans..

Lou (on tape):
We must uh kill them. We must uh uh incinerate them.
Old Style drinker after uh Old Style drinker,
It's Gonna Happen t-shirt after It's Gonna Happen t-shirt,
bar after uh bar,
strike out after strike out.
And they call me an asshole?
What do you call it when the assholes accuse
the uh asshole ? They lie..
they uh lie and we have to be merciful
for those who lie. Those nabobs. I uh hate them. How I hate
them.

Jim: We have reason to believe Lous has gone completely insane
(stuffs donut into mouth, gulps it down).
We need you to..terminate his skippership (guzzles chocolate
sauce).

Code Red: Terminate...the skip?

Jim: Terminate with extreme prejudice (intern brings goat into
office, Jim breaks neck open, drinks its blood, swallows its
head whole).

Cut to: Streets of Wrigleyville. Code Red searches the streets
for Lou. Is surrounded by angry Cub fans.

Code Red: Iggins!?

Iggins!: Why, man, why can't he just, you know, not swing at
that damn curveball outside the zone man?

Code Red: What..are you talking about? Why are these people
glaring at me?

Iggins!: Ramirez! The fucking fuck! Oh..and they think, man
they think you're here to take
him.

Code Red: Take who?

Iggins!: Sweet Lou, man! These are all his fans, man!
Fuck Dusty Baker!

Code Red: Could, I talk to Sweet Lou?

Iggins!: Hey, man, you don't TALK to the skipper.
You listen to him. The man's enlarged my mind!
He's a player manager in the classic sense.
I mean sometimes you'll say hello to him and
he'll say "get me tequila, damnit!"
And then you'll walk by him and he'll grab you by the arm
and say "did you know Jacque Jones is a fucking Jackass?!"
He..I'm a small man, man, but he, he's a great man..

Code Red shakes head and walks past him. He weaves
through the crowd to make his way into a delapidated apartment
building. He is ambushed by Cubs fans covered in
blue body paint, knocked out, and taken upstairs.

A few hours later..
Code Red awakens in a dingy room. Lou sits, nearly naked,
on a bar stool, hookers are passed out all around him.

Lou: Where are you from, uh, Code Red?

Code Red: Illinois, sir.

Lou: Where uh, whereabouts?

Code Red: The Quad Cities, sir.

Lou: How far are you from the uh, river?

Code Red: The Mississippi, sir? About 20 minutes.

Lou: I went to that, uh, river, when I was in the minors.
Played in their, uh, stadium. It was uh, beautiful.
Did they say uh, why, uh,
they wanted you to..terminate my uh, management?

Code Red: They say you've gone insane, that your
management is unsound.

Lou: Is my uh management unsound?

Code Red: I see no management...only Thai hookers..
and cheap whiskey.

Lou: Are you a Cubs fan?

Code Red: I'm a sports fan, sir.

Lou: You're, uh, neither. You're a sheep used by
marketing executives to pay a bill.

Hours Later..
Code Red is locked in the basement. Iggins! enters.

Iggins!: Why, would a nice guy like you, want to kill
the skipper?! You know he likes you, the man really likes
you. He's got somethin in mind for you.
After this is all over, what are they gonna say man?
That he was a nice skipper?
That he was a kind skipper?
That's bullshit man!
And who's gonna set em straight, man?
it ain't gonna be me. It's gonna be you.
(Iggins! leaves, fumbles through his
pocket, accidentally drops basement door key).

Code Red: That guy really needs to get laid.(grabs key,
unlocks basement door, creeps upstairs into Lou's room.)

Lou (talking to ESPN on phone): I've seen, uh, horrors.
Horrors that you've seen! But you uh, you have no right to
judge me. To call me a bad manager..
(turns, sees Code Red holding baseball bat he's picked up
off floor, chugs an entire fifth of whiskey in one gulp.
Nods approval to Code Red)

Code Red whallops Lou several times across the head,
Lou collapses on the floor.

Lou: The uh, horror, the horror...
Fuck Jacque Jones...(rolls over, dies)

Code Red drops bat, walks out into street. Sees Iggins!
Points him to the Thai hookers Lou has left alone.
Iggins! walks away with them.

The End