"Are you fucking kidding?"

"What?"

"I said, 'Are you fucking kidding?'"

"Oh. No, or, ..about what?"

"45 bucks for a fucking eighth, you must be fucking kidding?"

"No, I guess I'm not, Jesus man, why you so hostile? Have some chips. You can have next game."

"I don't want next game you fuck, I want to know where you get off jacking the fucking price five bucks for no good fucking reason?"

"What?"

"Look put down the fucking controller and listen to me. I am not paying one fucking dime more than 40, alright. There are a million fucking guys like you out here you know, I could probably find one next door."

"He's a realtor"

"What? Who's a fucking realtor?"

"The guy next door."

"Fuck! You are totally missing the fucking point here..."

"It's cause, man, we just got a PS2 and I'm totally fucking into it. We're playing a whole season...it's totally challenging to hit .300"

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're Kelly man."

"No...fuck...do you know who I was?"

"Wait..shit you were someone different, like a chick or something, hey Phil man, this is heavy, put that shit on pause for a minute...Okay...What?"

"I am in that game."

"What?"

"That game you are playing...I was in it"

"You mean, like in a dream, I was in John Elway Quaterback once, it was horrible..."

"Okay...I was a fucking baseball player...I am a goddamn baseball player..."

"No shit, what team?"

Moves to "Roster" area of the Video Game Control Menu faster than he has done anything else.

"Toronto, and Anheim, but wait..."

"What's your name?"

"No I am not in that game but I was in the game."

"You lost me. Let her rip Phil."

"No I mean..."

"Look man it's 45 for you or Don Mattingly or Manny Lee, or Chili Fucking Davis alright!"

"Davis?"

"Yeah, even Chili Davis, who is about to smoke Phil's next offering thirteen rows deep, so I need to get back into this."

Sits down.

"Next game."

* * * * *

Day 5 | Kelly Home | Day 7