Sick Kid: Thanks for coming. Have u seen my dad? Dee: Muttering.... Fucking Carl. What am I supposed to say to the little bastard?
Dum Dum: How should I know? They haven't any chemistry. What do you expect me to do? I'm the manager. Not the shrink. They lack leadership. Someone in that clubhouse needs to step up and take control.
KEMP: "Yo Blake, we own LA, rite dawg?" BLAKE: "Well I owned Rihanna last night." KEMP: "Youz on Rih-Rih? I thawt we wuz tite dawg." BLAKE: "I thought she'd be tight, but I had to use a shoehorn just to get up in that nasty shit." KEMP: "Wut tha fukk Blake, datz my gurl!" BLAKE: "Well she ain't no good to you now." KEMP: "Wut u mean?" BLAKE: "Well I don't want to front, but if you try to tap that skank now, you'll be like a knife in a mayonnaise jar." KEMP: "Man u sukk!" BLAKE: "Nah, son. But she sure did." __
DBB: "God damn it, Blue! That throw beat him by three steps!!!" UMP: "Um, you do realize your team is hitting right?..." DBB: "Oh shit, really? How embarrassing." UMP: "Don't worry, this is nothing compared to some of the stupid shit you've already done." DBB: "Good point, Blue. Thanks, I feel better already." __
WILLS: "Yo, wutz up Tubby?" URIBE: "Hey Mo, wutz going on?" WILLS: "U hear tha newz" URIBE: "No, wut?" WILLS: "Yo homey Mattingly got hiz dumb ass fired." URIBE: "No way, fo realz do?!!!" WILLS: "No, not really. Just fukkin wit yo fat ass." URIBE: "Man, fuck you bkitch. WILLS: "Yeah, u mad. But I made u happy fo a minute do." URIBE: "True dat."
ELLIS: "The Rox are the best hitting team in baseball, so what's your plan of attack tonight?" KERSH: "I don't know, was thinking about pitching a perfect game." ELLIS: "You do realize Hanley is back in the lineup, right?" KERSH: "Aw, fuck! Okay, just a no-no then." _
BIG MAC: "and your prostate is the chestnut-sized gland surrounding the urethra that can be felt during a rectal exam..." _