04x20 - Foul Balls

[bunniefuu]

Toby: This memo is an insult!

You've been offered equity in a company with great upside potential.

So how is that an insult?

I invented a winch, State of New Mexico orders 15 grand worth of it, you take the money.

[laughing]: Okay.

All right, well, let's see.

I start a company with my own savings, I pluck you guys out of obscurity, I give you jobs, and then, you throw my generosity in my face.

Generosity?

Well, let's look at these numbers, shall we?

You scanned my memo?

Oh, I scanned it, baby.

And Happy and I really appreciate the .75% share of her invention.

Corporations routinely take the lion's share of an employee's invention.

And you two are married, so you're really getting 1.5%.

Sylvester: How do you explain my .7%?

How do I rate less than these guys?

Simple, you're a human calculator.

Artificial intelligence makes you superfluous in seven years.

[gasps]

But I still gave you a piece of the pie.

Is that not nice?

What about Paige?

Interesting that she has a full one percent; more than all of us.

She's not even a genius.

Hmm, so strange.

How peculiar.

What are you guys insinuating?

Nothing.

Just that the only person in the office to play Nude Olympics with Walter goes home with the gold.

Before I came along, you dorks were setting up home office computers.

Yeah, and for what it's worth, Paige's share is really .25%.

Ralph gets .75% for all the times he helped us out.

But due to labor laws, I had to put it under Paige's name.

Hold on.

You...

you value my son three times more than you value me?

Well, only on a work contribution level.

Dingus, our fertility treatment hasn't worked.

We need more funds.

It's not like I'm keeping the funds!

I'm reinvesting it in Scorpion.

I-Isn't more tomorrow better than a little today?

Nope.

Oh, fine!

Suppose I can give you a few extra bucks, seeing as it's your invention.

Wow, thanks for the extra shillings to throw into my account.

Your account?

What do you got, a separate bank account?

Maybe.

[sighs]

What is Easter Island's point of view on all this?

I'm just trying to figure out where I can buy just one right shoe...

Wait for it, this is gonna be good.

...because I'm gonna lose mine somewhere up Walter's ass.

Bam!

There it is.

Wait, why are you mad at me?

I don't see my name on that list.

You work for Homeland, you're not a Scorpion employee.

So I'm not a real part of the team?

I risk my life just like everybody else.

More so, 'cause he is so old.

Troublemaker.

Penny-pincher.

You should've known what problems this memo would cause.

[sighs]

We need guidance getting through this conflict.

And I know exactly who to call.

Walter, if you're calling who I think you're calling, don't.

He's helped us before.

His diploma came with a maze and a word search on the back.

Yes, hello, this is Walter O'Brien.

Uh, not good, actually.

And we need your counseling right away; money is no object.

Okay, see you soon.

Okay, see you soon.

That's Homeland Director Carson.

He's gonna be here in five minutes.

Carson?

What does that turd want?

Carson: Four-person CIA team imbedded in Kazakhstan.

Found out they were kidnapped just hours ago.

Okay, if Homeland can give us their satellite imagery, we can provide an extraction plan for the m*llitary.

Extraction?

No.

We got six of their guys, we're gonna do a swap next week.

This stuff goes down all the time.

Then why are you here?

Those agents are the starting infield for the CIA softball team, and we were supposed to play for the FGSL championship today.

FGSL?

Federal Government Softball League.

Replacement team would be the FBI, but they're busting a drug ring in Colorado; A*F's intercepting a firearms shipment in the Gulf.

Oh, even the Department of Agriculture's dealing with a boll weevil problem in Texas, so it's down to you.

Down to us for what?

As independent contractors with federal clearance, Scorpion qualifies to play in the league.

Right here in the rule book.

I refuse to allow Homeland's undefeated season to be tarnished with an asterisk.

I won't accept a forfeit.

So you're going to play us.

And why should we help you?

You tried to put my roomie in prison.

You two were roommates?

Yeah, while him and I were engaged.

While she was married to him.

Before I dated her.

Damn freak show in here.

Look, you're gonna play, 'cause if you don't, let's just say Scorpion might not get any government jobs coming its way.

If you're trying to get back at me by humiliating these guys, perhaps you and I should figure out another way to settle this.

Threatening a superior?

I'd hate to have to bring you up on charges.

Again.

I-I don't expect you to play, Pops.

But come, support your team.

You could be...

the mascot.

Let's make it interesting.

If we win, Homeland doubles the rate that they pay Scorpion.

Fine.

But if we win, I'm yanking Scorpion's government clearance.

I am sick of your antics, comments, and unprofessionalism.

Um, Cabe, I do the books.

We lose government work, Scorpion's toast.

What's the matter?

Mommy won't let you play ball today?

Shake it.

See you at the field in Sherman Oaks in 30 minutes.

What the hell were you thinking?

He called us out.

[moaning]

You bet our company.

We can't b*at them.

You heard how Carson talked to us.

Toby: You see, geniuses, Paige and Cabe grew up playing sports.

They don't know what it's like to be bullied by a jock.

They don't know that you're just supposed to take it and move on.

We'll coach you guys up.

People like us don't win at sports.

In gym, Coach Baclavella would give grade bumps to the kids who would give me the worst wedgies.

One year, everybody got A's.

Little League sucks for nerds growing up.

You watch kids do things you can't, having all the fun, and at the end of the season, the winners get to go to a party at Big Ernesto's Taco Hut, something you know you're never gonna be able to do.

And Ernesto would let all those kids choose their trophies out of the trophy case.

Stupid trophies.

I always wanted one of those trophies.

We don't have any equipment, or any funds to buy any, so, guess we can't play.

I've got a fast and cheap way to get everything that we need.

Just meet meet me at the field.

No, I-I...

I can go with you.

And-and help you carry things.

Okay, I got here as quick as I could.

Let the healing begin.

What I miss?

Called me on the right day, Gallo.

We busted a frat house for bookmaking-- civil forfeiture-- seized everything, including tons of sporting equipment.

Now, I feel a cold coming on, so I'm just gonna...

put the key down here, and head home sick.

Just make sure everything's back by 6:00, before the next guy clocks in, huh?

Appreciate it, pal.

Appreciate what?

I never saw you.

[chuckles]

So this is unsavory.

Wouldn't be necessary if any of you dorks had baseball gloves.

Florence: ♪ Way down South in the cemetery ♪ Ralph: ♪ Way down South in the cemetery ♪ ♪ That's where your team is gonna be buried ♪ Ralph: ♪ That's where your team is gonna be buried...

♪ Yeah, that's right, Homeland!

We're gonna roll right over you little punks!

I regret asking her to play.

What did she do to my son?

Florence, you seem very motivated.

Yeah, well, you remember I told you that jocks used to throw the ball at the science lab wall to bother me?

I really hate jocks.

Speaking of jocks, uh, Ralph, in this bag is a protective cup I bought.

Go to the port-o-john and put it on.

Do I have to?

I want grandchildren someday.

Go.

Okay, positions.

Whoa.

Who made you manager?

Anyone who earned two varsity letters in high school, raise your hand.

That's what I thought.

Sly, you'll catch; Cecil, you're tall, so center field; Happy's short, so she'll play short; and Toby, first base.

Are you sure Walter won't want Toby and I to share a position, like he had us share equity in Scorpion?

You guys are the worst.

This game is the perfect opportunity for you to come together as a "literal team," in the midst of falling apart completely.

Get lost, quack.

I'm gonna go stretch.

Ralph: Mom, I can't figure out how to put this thing on!

[banging on door]

I'm never having grandkids.

Carson: Dineen.

Got something for you.

Rest of you, stretch, too.

What is that?

Uniforms.

Department of Corrections surplus.

We're not wearing these.

Rules say uniforms must be worn.

He's right, it's in the rule book.

What are you doing?

Carson: I have filmed every pitch and every at bat of our undefeated season, but this game is going to be my Citizen Kane.

Now where's Gallo and O'Brien?

Tried them a little bit ago, couldn't get through.

But don't worry, they'll show.

They better.

Else, it's a forfeit.

Then, bye-bye, government contracts.

I said, they'll be here.

Homeland, gather around.

I don't know what the heck is keeping those jackasses.

We need backups.

I know exactly who to call.

Uh, I like my hamstring in one piece, please.

Toby: Okay, all right.

Ugh-- all right!

Okay, safeword, safeword!

Oh...

Can't believe you asked her to play.

Come on, let's stretch them groins.

Happy, showing some real anger markers.

Come on.

Spill the beans.

When I went to the garage the other night to get my miter saw, I saw Flo get in Walt's car.

Just the two of them.

Okay, maybe he was just giving her a ride.

No.

The pixie wasn't wearing her normal clothes from the young boy's department.

She was all gussied up.

It was late, and Paige was not around.

Flo dressed up fancy, and you're just telling me this right now?

Happy, this team is hanging on by a thread as it is after what happened this morning.

You know, if Walt and Paige implode, so does the team.

We can't have that; we are wholly unemployable.

I didn't tell you because you hold onto a secret like a wet bar of soap.

And I'm only 99% sure.

Not a hundred.

We got to get to the bottom of this.

I found a few more bats.

How you doing with those gloves?

Yep, finished.

All right, we're running late.

Let's hit it.

The 101's gonna be backed up this time of day, so I think we ought to stay on city streets.

What are you waiting on?

Open it.

I gave the key to you.

Like hell you did.

I don't have the key, Cabe.

Well, I don't have it; you didn't give it to me.

Oh, yeah, well, who do you think is right, the guy with the 197 IQ, or the guy who says he watches boxing on "paper view" TV?

I may run my words together sometimes, but that does not mean that I lost that key.

Well, I didn't lose it.

[sighs]

It's almost game time.

We're screwed.

It's a seven-inning game.

Slaughter rule max: eight runs per inning.

A 24 run lead ends the game.

Seeing as Scorpion has no equipment, you'll use Homeland's.

What kind of uniform's that?

I was told to rush over for a game.

Assumed it was Fantasies 'N Frolics.

[sighs]

Okay, let's do this.

Sylvester: Paige?

What's holding them up?

We need Cabe.

You can't play scared.

Calm down.

Calm down?

You listen to me.

We've defused bombs, we've been buried alive, we've stared down nuclear w*r.

But what we're about to experience is much worse.

We're about to hear the two most terrifying words for a nerd to hear, two words that send chills down the spines of geeks worldwide.

Play ball!

Those are the words.

♪ Scorpion 4x20 ♪ Foul Balls Can't get a signal in this basement.

If I'm not out on that field, Scorpion's done for.

Well, let's just get the cops upstairs to let us out.

I'll bang on the ceiling.

No, no, no, no.

Jonesy bent the rules to help us.

He could lose his job and pension.

You see, dumb ole government employees don't earn nearly as much as you think.

Never said you were dumb.

Now that you brought it up, great job today getting us wrapped up in a wager that we have no chance of winning.

I was standing up for you guys.

You were protecting your own ego.

And why don't you protect your own company and figure a way out of here.

Look in these evidence boxes and see if you can find anything that can help.

Pot pipes, g*ns...

Accounting records.

Satellite phone.

[phone chirps]

Damn it.

Battery's flat.

Wait, there's a solar calculator with this embezzling evidence.

And florescent bulbs mimic the sun's spectrum, so if I wire the phone to the solar battery from the calculator, then hold it up to the lights, I could charge the phone.

Then do it already.

Those guys are probably getting k*lled without me.

I know Scorpion isn't the pinnacle of athleticism, but they are resourceful.

I'm sure they're doing fine.

Man: Come on, hustle it up.

[groans]

♪ ♪ Wind speed, rotational force...

Aah!

Seriously?

Ow.

Damn it!

2.3 seconds until impact.

Got it!

Fudge nuggets.

♪ ♪ Announcer: After half an inning, Homeland's up eight nil.

I thought scorpions were stingers.

More like stinkers.

What a jerk.

Ralph, you're up.

Cecil, on deck.

Look at how smug they are.

I'd like to take that bat and just cram it right up Carson's...

Easy, k*ller.

Let's keep that high school anger under control.

Yeah, you wouldn't want to do something that feels good now but you'd regret later.

Really regret.

That's not very subtle.

Announcer: Now batting, Inmate Number 58432, Ralph Dineen.

Okay.

If Scorpion shuts down, I won't lose my internship, will I?

No negativity.

Two more eight-run innings and the mercy rule kicks in and then this game is over.

Is that what you want?

Yes.

Come on.

You guys are geniuses.

Use your superpowers.

This field is kryptonite.

We got no superpowers here.

That field is 60 feet between bases and 48 feet from mound to home plate.

The foul lines meet at exact angles.

This game is geometry and physics and math.

You're good at that.

Umpire: Strike two.

That's okay, Ralph.

Good swing.

So, you're just gonna roll over because right now this is gym class and Homeland...

Homeland is giving you a great big wedgie.

I might have an idea.

It has to do with the rule book.

There is an acceptable range for the weight of a softball.

If we make Homeland's balls heavier, they won't be able to hit them as hard or as far.

Sounds like cheating.

Not if we keep the weight just within what the rules will allow.

We could give their ball a sauna.

Papa Carpinni's is only a couple blocks away.

They have a steamer for their clams.

Rules let you hold onto the balls that are pitched to you, so Homeland's balls are still by their dugout.

I'll go steal them.

Being tardy is a mortal sin, but she has no problem stealing.

Strange kid.

Hmm, I mean, even if we deaden their balls, we're still not good at catching them.

Look at all of the Homeland's government-issued SUVs.

They have collision censors on their bumpers.

I can rig them to our T-shirts.

When we're directly lined up with an approaching ball, it'll tell us and then we'll field it.

No.

Steaming balls is one thing, but this is definitely cheating.

It's a sensory-assist device.

If it's cheating, so are eyeglasses.

I'm sold.

Swipe them.

Umpire: Strike three.

You're out.

Damn it.

I got to pay attention to the game.

Oh, that's some pretty interesting science that Happy came up with, huh?

Mm-hmm.

Hey, speaking of science, how was that lecture that Walt took you to?

We didn't go.

It was cancelled.

Okay, Cecil, you got this!

[claps hands]

Announcer: Now batting, Inmate Number 18743, Cecil Rizzuto.

It's working, but slowly.

[fence banging]

Can you please stop doing that?

[grunts]

Trying to get us out.

It's three-gauge steel.

You can't just jock your way out of this.

You're gonna need to use brainpower.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

[phone chimes]

And it's charging.

See?

Brainpower.

Oh, there you go, Cecil.

Foul tip's a hit waiting to happen.

Hey.

Get your head out of the computer and into the game.

It is.

It's in Carson's game.

Every game from the last season.

Hacked his tablet, pulled the film and overlaid software from the Kinetics Department at Braddock University.

Now we can analyze Homeland's every swing and pitch for tendencies: where hitters like the ball, where they put the ball into play, how Carson pitches lefties and righties.

Hacking a computer must be cheating.

No.

Just a federal crime.

Hmm.

Good enough for me.

Keep at it.

I got the censors.

I'm gonna connect it to some lithium batteries I have in my bag and we're good to go.

Well, it was a mighty battle, but alas, I was not victorious.

Time to go get out.

Hey.

Stay positive.

[phone rings]

Announcer: Now batting, Inmate 28291, Sylvester Dodd.

Walter, where are you?

Are you freaking kidding me?

I wish.

[Cabe grunting]

Can you send Happy to pick the lock?

No.

Downtown and back with traffic?

The game will be over and besides, we're already down a player without Toby.

Why?

Where's Toby?

You want to put what in my steamer?

I work with Homeland and we save people.

But there's this jerk who wants to shut us down if he can b*at us at softball but we can't win 'cause we're nerds, but we'd have a much better sh*t if you'd just let me steam my balls.

Get out.

Sal, I wiped out and shredded my knee.

No more deliveries for me.

You know, I'm a really fast peddler.

[grunts]

You know those old commercials where gorillas throw luggage around but never learn they won't get it open?

Well, that's you.

I don't see you doing anything.

Actually, I have a plan.

Pimp jewelry?

Yeah.

I'm gonna pound the gold into a thin piece of metal, and then put it in the lock like a key blank, and then I'm going to make a new key to set us free.

That's all you need?

A bracelet?

Well, yes, the bracelet...

and this.

Scorpion takes the field for the top of the second.

Hold onto your seats.

This team's had more drops than a DJ at Coachella.

God, I want to k*ll that guy.

Gonna be hard to get anyone out without a first basemen.

Where the hell is your husband?

[bicycle bell dings]

Toby, what the hell?

Keep playing.

I'll be there soon.

Okay.

Okay.

Yeah, it's flat enough.

Okay.

It's a perfect fit.

Good job.

At least I have some value.

Would you drop it already about the equity shares?

I didn't know money was so important to you.

This is not about money.

This is about respect.

I gave my heart and soul to Scorpion.

And I know I'm no brainiac, but I always thought you at least respected me.

Guess I was wrong.

Okay, we got the notch marks.

So let's make the key.

Announcer: Scorpion only got out of that inning after having another ocho dropped on their heads like scented oil on a baby at a baptism.

Except this team isn't blessed, it's cursed.

I swear that guy is gonna get it.

All right, guys.

I put their steamy balls back.

A lot of good it does us now.

They just hung eight runs on us.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Did I not deliver a pizza and fix a ballgame fast enough for you, Merlin?

Paige: Hey.

No more arguing.

Patty, you're up.

I finished the censors.

I put foil on them, so they'll buzz when it detects an object heading toward it.

Shirt's fabric is thin.

It won't affect the censor's performance.

So, Walter lied to Paige about that lecture being cancelled.

Not good.

If he's lying, it's 'cause he's doing something shady.

This is bad 'cause without the waitress, Walt falls apart.

And without Walt, Scorpion falls apart.

Copy that.

So, speaking of relationships on the fritz, what is up with the separate bank account?

It's just a stupid account.

No.

Happy, I-I totally understand that in the foster home, you had to keep a bag packed, ready to fly if things didn't go right, but this is about me.

I'm not a foster home.

This separate account is your adult version of a go-bag.

You're just packed and ready to fly if things don't go right with us.

Orphans don't grow up to be sharers.

That's all it is.

Hey, Patty struck out.

Toby's up.

Fight later.

This discussion is not over.

Announcer: And Toby Curtis goes down on three straight pitches.

The good doctor must've prescribed himself 30cc's of suck, 'cause I've seen better swings at condemned playgrounds.

Florence.

Florence.

Uh, step to the back of the batter's box.

Software says when righties do that, Carson pitches inside, so turn your hips, pull the ball and your odds of getting on base will increase.

Got it.

I believe in you.

What'd you talk to her about, Romeo?

Her hips.

[bat clinks]

Oh!

Holy crap!

She got a hit!

Man: Two, Homeland, two!

Ooh.

[laughs]

Paige: Oh, man.

She's caught in a rundown.

Announcer: She's in a pickle.

Back and forth, over and over.

Stupid jocks are mocking me.

What?

Oh!

Oh, boy.

Get up!

Whoa, whoa.

Are you crazy?!

That's for throwing balls at my chemistry lab!

Bottom of the second ends with a forearm shiver.

[shouting]

Put me down!

Well, it's almost mercy rule time.

Then we can celebrate Homeland's title by going to Ernesto's Tacos for some delicious chimichangas.

They think they can blow us out and then get some burritos?

Hell no!

The censors will buzz when you're positioned to field the ball.

You nerds have science on your side.

Now, let's shut them down or Scorpion shuts down.

You ready?!

All: Yeah!

♪ ♪ [device buzzing]

[device buzzing]

[device buzzing]

This some kind of joke?

Sylvester: Nope, we've done our research.

Paige knows where to throw it.

That's where you're gonna hit it.

[all cheering]

Umpire: Out!

They got a 1-2-3 inning against us?

Come on, let's take the field!

Now this team's acting like a team.

All right, Happy, go for it.

You know, not always the best move to go for it.

Sometimes restraint is a good quality to have.

Uh...

okay.

All right, look alive, Homeland, look alive.

Let's go.

Whoa.

Whoa.

That's an illegal pitch, punk!

Really?!

Retribution for the rundown?

Got away from me.

Paige: Come on, Happy!

[applause]

[grunts]

Hey!

Lock the barn door and send sister to bed.

What?

We got a donnybrook.

[grunts]

Get off me!

I'm sticking up for you.

They threw at me 'cause of you.

You just do whatever you want.

To hell with the consequences.

This is not the time for this discussion.

Florence: What the hell is your problem?

[sighs]

How wonderfully cathartic.

You clowns can't even fight normal.

I-I should throw someone out, but y-you tackled a teammate.

So play ball, and no more fast-pitch, huh?

Okay, okay.

I'm cool.

Happy, apologize to Florence now.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for not realizing you were a snake from the start.

I know about your date with Walter.

You're just an interloper trying to break up Scorpion.

Ralph's dad tried, Tim Armstrong tried; ain't gonna let you do it.

Okay, I got a good line on these notches, now make these marks.

Whatever you say, you're the boss.

I'm not your boss.

You work for the government.

Okay.

So six millimeters deep, eight millimeters wide, and four and four.

And three and three.

Cabe: Making the cuts.

Okay, I can take it from here.

Maybe I should do that.

Please, Cabe, I've got it.

Not so hard.

[Walter grunts]

Uh...

The lock's jammed.

What do we do now?

Don't ask me.

I just work for the government.

Umpire: Strike three.

Dyfrost, grab a bat.

Okay, the way I see it is we can stop them from scoring, but we still can't hit, so that's the problem we have to solve.

Well, I suck.

Toby: I think I got it.

Guys, we got to reverse what we did to Homeland.

We gave them soggy balls...

So we get our balls nice and hot.

I wish you could hear yourselves.

Umpire: Strike one.

I'll be back.

Happy, I would like to speak to you, please.

Umpire: Strike two.

Sal, I need your pizza oven.

Okay.

You know where Carter Avenue is?

I take issue with your accusations.

That lecture was 100% innocent.

Then why'd you get dressed up?

I didn't.

That's all that I had to wear.

Why didn't you tell anyone that you went?

It didn't come up in conversation.

Then why did Walter tell Paige the lecture was cancelled?

Umpire: Strike one.

Why would he lie?

'Cause you two were on a date.

I have zero feelings for Walter.

Okay, that's bull.

For years, I pretended to not be attracted to Toby, but I always knew that he was sexy as hell.

[bicycle bell dings]

Make way!

Hot balls coming through!

See?

If you're so worried about this, why are you not asking Walter these questions?

Sylvester: Hey, guys.

What questions?

Happy: About what's going on between her and Walt.

Something's going on between you and Walt?

No!

We went to a lecture and then he lied to Paige about it, and I'm not sure why.

All right, well, most important thing is that you don't have any feelings for Walter, so everything's okay.

Not if Walter has butterflies for her.

Then all hell breaks loose.

All hell's gonna break loose if Sly doesn't get in the on-deck circle.

When did you get here?

Been here awhile.

You should confront Walter.

Toby: Why's everybody under the bleachers?

Oh, cat's out of the bag, huh?

Paige: Ooh, good swing, Dyfrost.

You're right on it.

Guys, how 'bout some chatter?

Where the hell is everyone?

[grunts]

You're gonna separate your shoulder.

Suddenly, you give a crap about me?

You're gonna get hurt.

Get off me.

Get off me!

[key drops]

You had the key the whole time?

What the hell, Walter?

You want to explain this to me?

Walter: Uh...

I must've, uh, forgotten.

Forgot?

You're a genius.

You don't forget.

Didn't know it was there.

Damn it, Walter, why the hell don't you want us to go to this game?!

'Cause I didn't want you to see me play!

I don't want you to see!

Son, it's just a game.

Oh, please, in the history of fathers and sons, it's never just a game.

My father never came to a science fair.

But one year I signed up for soccer, and he got so excited.

So I studied the rules, I watched the pros on TV, but in my first game, an attacker came at me and, uh, there was a collision so I got disoriented and, um, I tried to clear the ball, and I kicked it into my own goal.

Then as I was running to the sideline, I-I...

locked eyes with my father just as the coach yelled at me.

He said, "O'Brien, you play for the green team." And, um...

And Dad looked away.

You were willing to possibly lose Scorpion to save face in front of me?

I embarrassed him.

I'm not strong enough to withstand embarrassing two fathers in one lifetime.

Announcer: A nightmare sixth for Homeland as Scorpion had more runs than Aunt Tilly's stockings.

Closing the gap to 16-15, the ball jumping off their bats.

Paige: Toby's hot balls have really caused some damage.

Word choice.

Wait, hold on.

I'm serious, you guys.

We can win this.

We hold them here, then come back and score, which isn't an issue for us anymore.

Carson: Hey, these balls have been tampered with.

You were saying?

Right here.

It's got loose stitching.

Yeah, that's made in China.

Catcher: All their balls are coming apart.

[sniffs]

And they smell like pepperoni.

They may or may not have been in an oven at some point.

Cheaters!

Technically not.

I checked, repeatedly.

Okay, moving forward.

From now on, everyone's using Homeland's balls.

Understood?

Man: Come on, two innings left.

Let's go!

Okay, so we can't hit with steamy balls, so we're finished.

I can get help.

I'll be right back, but you'll have to play with one man down.

No, you won't.

Paige: Took you long enough.

Excuse me, I have to go pitch now.

I lost the key.

It's my fault.

We're taking the field now, but as soon as the half-inning's over, you and Toby are gonna have a talk.

Okay.

You don't need to sit this out, son.

Running from your fears only exhausts you.

You can sub for Dyjob.

Actually, it's Dyfrost.

Shut up.

Scorpion's only down one run without me.

It would be illogical to shake up the team chemistry at this point.

Here you go.

Thanks for supporting our charity.

Hey.

How long you been a Dodgers fan?

Uh, not a baseball fan.

A physics fan.

Your home runs are perfect parabolic manifestations of Newton's third law.

Um, who should I make this out to?

I don't want your autograph.

I saw online that you were here today, and I came for help.

I'm on a team of geniuses and I need you to play on our softball team.

The outcome could impact world safety.

Security.

Just wanted to talk to him!

Okay, Kyle Dirk, let's find your limo driver's number in your calendar.

We want a hitter!

Not a babysitter!

We want a batter!

Not an old man's bladder!

Ringtone: Attaboy.

Attaboy.

Hap, I'm a little busy right now.

Okay, I need you to use that manipulative shrink brain of yours and call Kyle Dirk's limo driver.

Pretend to be his manager, and tell him to run down the street to get Dirk a sandwich for the ride home.

And hurry.

The event's winding down and Dirk will be out any second.

[bat clinks]

Okay, but I'm a little concerned 'cause it sounds like you're gonna kidnap baseball star Kyle Dirk.

Paige: Toby!

Toby!

Toby!

Toby!

Paige, I'm a little busy right now.

I'll get right on it.

[engine starts]

Crap.

Okay, let's hit it.

Announcer: Bottom of the seventh, Scorpion's down by one.

Will they score?

An ironic question considering, from the look of the fellas, these guys spent their high school years wondering if they'd ever score.

That's it.

I am kicking his ass.

Okay, uh, Walt, uh, it's time for our talk.

Flo, you, too.

Hey, I am tired of you razzing my guys.

You want to know the one thing lamer than a bunch of nerds playing sports?

The guy who makes fun of those nerds.

And I'm not a nerd.

I'm a jock.

One more word out of you, and my foot and your gooty are gonna have an unpleasant meeting.

Got it?

By "gooty," do you mean wiener?

Then I got you loud and clear, sister.

That is one hell of a woman.

[bat clinks]

It was a white lie.

Paige taught me all about white lies.

I did it because I knew she'd feel bad that I overheard her mocking the lecture.

I told you, it was all benign.

It's a white lie if you brought me.

Bringing a woman, that's a tan lie.

Bringing a woman that you dreamt about, that's a brown lie.

Bringing a woman that you dreamt about kissing?

That's a black lie.

Preposterous.

If it's a white lie, go tell her.

Okay, maybe it was beige.

But the important thing is, that I have no feelings for Florence.

Yes, that's the important thing, that you guys have no romantic feelings for each other whatsoever...

for Scorpion's sake.

Patty: Great.

So, everything's settled?

When did you get here?

Been here awhile.

I'm up to speed.

Hey...

what the hell are you guys doing?

Get back in the dugout.

Hey, what are we doing here?

Oh, God!

Relax.

I've got the doors locked, but I'm not a psycho.

Here.

Scroll the files.

Baseball's a game of statistics.

Look at my team's numbers.

We've stopped a tsunami, nukes, saved over seven billion people, and one puppy on a slow day.

Dirk: I saw this dog on the news.

Had one just like it when I was a kid.

It's a long story, but we can't help people and pups in the future if we lose this game.

Please.

[sighs]

After a strikeout by a wizard, and a pop-up by the enchanting Ms.

Dineen, it all falls on the shoulders of Inmate Number 58432-- my future stepson Ralph.

I know you're scared, but I believe in you 100%.

Guys, we got Kyle Dirk, he's gonna give us one at bat.

Ralph, go hit the bench.

Whoa.

I don't know what the hell Kyle Dirk is doing here, but he can't play.

He's not a part of Scorpion.

Yes, he is.

Read it and weep, chump.

Let me see that.

[sighs]

"One-day contract.

Hired to get stuff off of high shelves." I guess a contract's a contract, so let's play ball and end this madness already.

One at bat.

Carson: Ridiculous.

You want technicalities?

All right.

I'll give you technicalities.

Happy: All right, come on, Kyle, let's go.

[all cheering]

Hit batsman, take your base.

[catcher chuckles]

Announcer: Holy smoke!

[drops bat]

Carson out-thunk the geniuses.

Come on.

Cabe: Come on!

Well, I kidnapped someone for nothing.

These people are nuts.

Happy: Hey, where are you going?

Well, looks like Kyle's going home.

Guess it's up to me.

So much on the line, and your nose is buried in a book?

Strange.

It's...

interesting.

[chuckles]

I see.

Ow, ow, ow!

Ow, my leg, ow!

That's your hamstring.

See, I'm a real doctor.

Paige: Ralph, go pinch-run for Kyle.

Walter, you're the last one on the bench.

You'll have to hit.

Announcer: Team Scorpion's replaced Kyle Dirk with an eighth grader.

Not since the Red Sox traded Babe Ruth for completion funds for musical No, No, Nanette has there been such a fiasco trade.

Hey, you want me to come back up there?

Kinda.

Cecil, may I have a moment?

You got to put the tape on and play.

My leg is fine.

You need this, Walter, more than Cabe needs help with you carrying sports equipment.

When I found out that was your reason for not being here, I surmised you were ducking the fight.

What was it that traumatized you, huh?

A dropped pop-up in grade school?

A ball between your legs in Little League?

[quietly]: I can't perform sports in front of others.

Especially Cabe.

Childhood events affecting us for the rest of our lives is tragic.

I'm not gonna let that happen to you, Walter.

The way to peace is through the fire.

[Walter groans]

Carson: Come on, guys.

Let's finish these guys off.

Embrace the experience.

Umpire: Let's go, batter up.

Walter...

I can see you're going through something, but I have faith in you.

[sighs]

It's almost certain I'll make an out.

If you're going for a pep talk, not the best way to start.

And we'll lose our government contract, be back where we were four years ago, installing routers in diners.

Not getting any better.

I'm glad we're all wearing the same shirts.

It shows we're a team.

And you all pulled together as a team to get us within one run.

And that's to save Scorpion.

We're all giving 100.75%.

Except for Sly.

He's giving 100.70.

I was wrong about the shares.

I'm sorry.

I'll rectify it.

Because...

we're Team Scorpion.

I don't want our last day to be one where we were at each other's throats.

I know we're about to lose everything, but I want to say thank you for being my teammates.

Catcher: Save the speeches for later.

Damn allergies are k*lling me.

I want to get off this field already!

Let's go!

Man: Let's go, blue!

Seriously, hurry up!

Paige: Let's go, Walter.

Announcer: O'Brien heads to the plate.

The tension's thick as thieves.

Cabe: You got this, Walt.

Come on.

[sputters]

Come on, man, you can't use that stuff.

The sap helps me grip the bat.

It's just like rosin, it's legal.

Play ball.

[applause]

Happy: Come on, Walt.

Strike one.

Man: Come on, let's get a move on.

Come on.

He's afraid to swing.

Toby: Maybe.

I think he's up to something.

Look.

[sneezes]

I got allergies.

Paige: Here we go, Walter.

[applause]

Umpire: Strike two!

Oh, man, am I really one strike away from going back to the diner?

Announcer: Two strikes, two outs.

Tying run on first.

[blowing]

Come on, man.

We playing ball, or you making floral arrangements?

Just checking wind current.

[applause]

[sneezes]

Passed ball, batter can run.

Toby: All right, go, Walter!

Carson: Play's to first!

Toby: Go, go, go, go, go!

Umpire: Safe!

[grunts]

He totally planned that.

Guess reading that rule book was not for naught.

Announcer: Homeland lets the winning run on first.

Hey...

remember all Carson put you through.

Pretend his head is the ball and b*at the snot out of it.

Carson: We got the lead right now.

Let's get this out.

Happy: Come on, Cabe.

Announcer: Now batting for Sylvester Dodd, a handsome gentleman with a great head of hair.

[cheering]

Ball one, outside.

Announcer: 1-0, two outs.

Bottom of the seventh.

Ball two, outside.

Time!

Time!

Cabe.

There's fear markers all over this guy.

He's scared to pitch to you, but intentional walks are illegal.

He's just trying to make your free pass look like an accident so he can pitch to Patty, who's a great kid, but only thing she ever hit was a "shift" key.

So, what do I do?

Well, your ego got us into this mess.

How 'bout Carson's ego gets us out of it?

His friends and colleagues are all watching this.

Why don't you provoke this guy?

[applause]

Happy: Let him have it, Cabe.

All right, Cabe, look alive.

Let's go, Cabe!

Hey, you gonna throw one near me, or are you too chicken?

Umpire: Play ball!

Batter up.

Ball three.

And no more fast-pitch.

Was that his fast pitch?

I've seen more heat off an Easy-Bake Oven.

Come on, take me on like a man.

Or you gonna walk me?

Let your guys see who you really are.

[sniffs, clears throat]

[cheering]

Announcer: Brylcreem rips it down the line!

[all shouting]

Cut off!

Cut off!

Carson: Play's to home!

Home!

Sylvester: He lost the ball.

Walter, come on home!

Paige: Go, Walter, go!

[all cheering]

Slide!

You're out!

[coughs]

[laughs]

You're out.

You missed the plate.

Yeah, but...

you missed the ball.

There we go.

Safe!

Announcer: Do you believe in science?

[all cheering]

Scorpion wins!

Scorpion wins!

Scorpion wins!

[cheering, laughing]

[whooping]

Hey, hey, you did it!

You did it.

I don't care if you want a separate bank account.

If you want one, you can have one.

No, I don't want a backup plan with you.

I don't need one.

Yes!

[all cheering]

♪ ♪ ♪ One, two ♪ ♪ One, two, three, four ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ I want a numero uno ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ From Ernesto's Tacos ♪ ♪ Yeah, a numero uno ♪ ♪ From Ernesto's Tacos ♪ ♪ Yeah, yeah, ow, yeah ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ They got tacos, burritos ♪ Great game, guys.

Toby: You know who did the least?

Kyle Dirk.

Paige: Right?

Anyone can get hit by a pitch.

Happy: Got to say, he kind of let me down.

Walter: We should join the league.

Cabe: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

♪ They call me Queso Blanco.

♪