The Ejected:

[Mets Clubhouse, fifth inning, Jerry Manuel and Carlos Beltran. Manuel has been walking around and cursing, several items in the clubhouse have been thrown; Carlos has already calmed down and is watching the game on television.]

Manuel: Fucking umps, like I don’t have enough crap to deal with.
Beltran: oh…oh shit…
Manuel: What? What the fuck is it now?
Beltran: Ollie, he just gave up another home run.
[Manuel nods, a defeated look creeps into his eyes, sits down on the couch.]
Manuel: So who do you think will win American Idol?
Beltran: I don’t know, I don’t really watch that stuff.
Manuel: Yeah.
Beltran: Yeah, I don’t really watch much television now; I spend a lot of time with my kid.
Manuel: Kids are nice. Kids are important.
Beltran: I think it’s very, you know, fulfilling, when you raise a child.
Manuel: Yeah. Family is pretty important, keeps you like…grounded.
Beltran: Yeah, I think so.
[Long pause. Keith Hernandez enters the clubhouse.]
Keith: So this is where the party…oh huh…hi guys.
Beltran: Hi Keith.
Keith: Hey guys, wanna know an old veteran’s trick for dealing with an ejection?
Manuel: What’s the trick?
Keith: You get wasted.
Beltran: and?
Keith: You get wasted. Pretty nifty, right? Hey, I bet there’s still some of Bobby Ojeda’s gin in the equipment closet.
[Keith rummages around in the equipment closet. Produces a dusty bottle of generic gin. Takes a long swig]
Keith: whoo-ee, now that’ll put some hair on your chest. Yeah. Alright, I got a broadcast to do.
[Keith puts the bottle of gin on the table, exits. Manuel and Beltran look at the gin. After a couple minutes, as a Met strikes out on television, Manuel takes a swig of gin, spits most of it out.]
Manuel: Jesus, that tastes like the Koch administration. [Beltran takes a small sip.]
Beltran: That is not very good.
Manuel: He was a pretty good player, though. Real slick fielding first basement. [As he says ‘slick fielding first basemen’ a pained look crosses his face]
Beltran: I didn’t really get to see him much, ‘cause, I was in Puerto Rico, and not all that old.
Manuel: Yeah. He was pretty good.
Beltran: You know what I like to watch on television? I like The Wire.
Manuel: Yeah, The Wire is pretty good.
[Long period of silence, Mariners score another couple runs]
Beltran: You think they gonna deal me for prospects?
Manuel: Man, I have no idea.
[Keith Hernandez re-enters the clubhouse]
Keith: Hey, guys I just thought of something else that helped me deal with an ejection: doing a whole bunch of lines.
Beltran: What?
Keith: You know, coke, blow, the white, snort snort. Hey, I bet there’s still some stuff in the hidden compartment in Daryl Strawberry’s locker.
Manuel: What?
[Keith jimys open a locker, dumps most of the contents on the floor, removes a false bottom to the locker, takes out a big bag of cocaine wrapped in a late ‘80s copy of Penthouse, leaves the magazine in the locker, tosses the bag on the table.]
Keith: Alright guys, don’t have too much fun. I got a broadcast to do. [Exits]
Manuel: We should probably flush that down a toilet or something, before they let the press in.
Beltran: Definitely.
Manuel: or maybe not. Maybe that headline would be less embarrassing.
Beltran: I dunno. So who’s your favorite character on The Wire?
Manuel: Only one? That’s pretty hard. I guess I like Avon Barcksdale, you know, old school gangsta.
Beltran: I like Lieutenant Daniels, because he tries to do the right thing, but sometimes, doing the right thing is hard.
Manuel: Yeah, The Wire is a pretty good show.

THE HAPPY ENDING:
[The clubhouse, after the game, players filling in]
Joe Smith: Mother fucker. What the fuck? Who the fuck trashed my locker? What the hell? [Examines the locker, sees the late ‘80s copy of Penthouse, picks it up] Nice… [Flips through thee magazine] nice…