03x03 - The Red Ball

[bunniefuu]

* I am the stone
The builder refused *

* I am the visual
The inspiration *

* That made lady
Sing the blues *

* I'm the spark
That makes your idea bright *

* The same spark
That lights the dark *

* So that you can know
Left from right *

* I am the ballot in your box
The b*llet in the g*n *

* The inner glow
That lets you know *

* To call your brother sun *

* The story that just begun *

* The promise
Of what's to come *

* And I'm 'a remain a soldier *

* Till the w*r is won
Won *

* Chop, chop, chop
Judo flip *

* Chop, chop, chop
Judo flip *

* Chop, chop, chop
Judo flip *

* Chop, chop, chop *

MAN:
I admit, I am envious of you.

In China, if you lose
$ billion, they sh**t you.

Here, they give you another
$ billion.

[CHUCKLES]

Amusing.

Our kickball team
is very formidable this year.

My granddaughter Ming
is the team captain.

I am hoping it will be
an epic contest.

No offense to your
granddaughter, Mr. Long Do,

but our team
shits on your team.

[LAUGHS]

We'll see.

I hate to spoil such a beautiful
day with such a close friend

talking about the unpleasantness
of business.

However, my associates
are getting nervous.

We need our money.
All of it.

[COUGHS]

That's not possible.

Unfortunate.

Now, Mr. Do, I'm sure we can
find another way

to work this out.

I'm listening.

Say, how's your gambling
addiction?

Much better.

Now.

I'm never playing
kickball again.

Come on, boy,
you have to do this.

Ed Wuncler asked for you
by name.

It's because of him I quit
the game in the first place

and gave Jennifer Herman
a permanent severe limp.

Look, nobody needs to be
reminded of that tragic day

when you gave that girl
a permanent severe limp.

It was the Junior League
Championship

against Wuncler's team,
and Ed had paid off the refs.

And, oh, you guys
were losing bad.

It was a blowout.

There were calling him
the Tiger Woods of kickball,

before the wife-cheating thing.

Now they just
call him "loser."

[ALL BOOING]
MAN: Huey, you suck!

WOMAN:
You suck!

GRANDDAD:
The crowd started laughing,

and we all know you
don't like to be laughed at.

And you snapped.

You went crazy.

[GRUNTS]

ANNOUNCER:
Freeman has hit her
with the pitch.

Oh, the horror.

And believe me, folks,
this was no accident.

He meant to do that.

If that girl is still alive,

she will undoubtedly have
a permanent and severe limp.

[GROANING]

ANNOUNCER:
One thing is certain:

She will never
play kickball again.

And neither
should Huey Freeman.

Well, too bad.
Ed Wuncler owns everything,

including the bank
that owns this house,

and he just got $ billion
in bailout money.

And I'm trying
to be his best friend.

If Ed Wuncler tells me to jump,
I'm gonna say how high,

and throw your ass in the air.

I'm not gonna play.

Okay, fine.

If you don't wanna play,
you don't wanna play.

Ed, here he is as promised.
Now get over here, boy.

[LAUGHS]

Good job, Robert.

I'll remember this when I do
my Christmas yacht shopping.

GRANDDAD:
Yeah, boy!

WUNCLER:
Now Huey,

the Wushung/Woodcrest
Junior/Senior

Harmonious Kickball Tournament
is the greatest

kickball competition
in the history of the sport.

One hundred and twenty-nine
years ago,

my great-great Grandpa Prescott
Rothschild Wuncler

sailed to Wushung, China.

The local monks had invented
a game similar to baseball,

except it involved a red rubber
ball and a lot of kicking.

He originally called it
"Jap baseball"

because he didn't know what
country he was in

and didn't care.

He brought the sport
back to America,

where the liberal
PC bitch-asses

renamed it "kickball."

Today, in the spirit of harmony
between our two cities,

we alternate hosting
a kickball tournament

known as the Wushung/Woodcrest
Junior/Senior

Harmonious
Kickball Tournament.

HUEY:
There's no way I'm playing.

Because of you, I gave a girl
a permanent limp.

Oh, really?

This little girl?

[***]

That's right, Huey.
Jennifer can walk just fine.

Hit it, Jenny.

You were dominating the entire
Woodcrest Junior League,

and I couldn't have that.

I made up the story about
Jennifer's permanent limp,

correctly assuming the emotional
trauma of the event

would make you quit the game.

But now I need to win this game
against the Chinese.

You were willing to scar me
for life over a kickball game?

But that's how good
of an opponent you were.

But this game is bigger
than you and me, Huey.

I present the Woodcrest
Harmonious kickball team.

First, courtesy of Blackwater
USA, the senior squad...

HUEY:
Mercenaries?

They prefer the term
"private kickball contractors."

And this is the junior squad?

WUNCLER:
The best the Dominican Republic
has to offer.

As you can see, I've spared
no expense for victory.

[JUNIOR TEAM CHEERING]

It's the greatest junior/senior
kickball team ever assembled.

Tell me you don't want
to be part of kickball history.

I don't want to be a part
of kickball history.

I'm not making a request.
I'm prepared to blackmail you

with a picture of you wearing
Kanye West Venetian sunglasses,

nut-hugger jeans
and Louis Vuitton driving shoes.

That's Photoshopped.

Explain that to media takeout.

I'll risk it.

WUNCLER:
All right, Huey.

I'm not a fan of the truth,

but here it is:

The Chinese are calling in
some debts

and I had to bet everything
on this game.

My banks, your home,
everything.

You think I'm bad,
just wait until the Chinese

take away all the freedoms
you enjoy.

Freedom to complain.

Freedom to have as many
offspring and as*ault r*fles

as you like.

The freedom
to surf the Internet

for p*rn of your choice.

Not the p*rn.
I'll risk it.

No yacht for you.

[SIGHS]

[***]

You are the one
who quit the game.

You must have me mistaken
for somebody else.

You were a great player.
Why did you quit?

Why will you not play in the
Harmonious Kickball Tournament?

What's it matter to you?

My name is Ming.

I am captain of the Wushung
Harmonious Junior/Senior

kickball team.

Even before I was born,

it was decided I would be
a champion kickball player.

At years old I was taken
to the National Kickball

Training Center
outside of Beijing.

I trained every day
and every night to be the best.

My grandfather says
to control the ball,

I must control myself.

But just me and the ball alone
is no kickball.

Without a worthy opponent,
I nothing.

We must have
the ultimate contest

to settle once and for all
who is the best.

Like I said, you have me
mistaken for somebody else.

[***]

I'll play.

But I'm not interested
in your ultimate contest.

It's just a simple game
of kickball.

So you decided to come fight
for freedom?

Well, you made
the right choice.

All right, bring it in.

A few minutes ago,

in a gross violation
of my civil liberties,

the INS repossessed
the five Dominican players

from the junior squad
of the Woodcrest Harmonious

kickball team.

We must immediately find a
replacement for these players.

I'm now exploring the
possibility of child soldiers

from Sierra Leone,
but they may not get here in...

[HELICOPTER WHIRRING] Huh?

Say again? Affirmative,
we're on our way.

Come on, guys, that's us.
Moving out! Moving out!

[***]

What's going on?
Sorry, Mr. Wuncler.

POW rescue in Afghanistan.
Wait! Wait!

g*dd*mn it! f*ck the POW.

You are staying here
and playing kickball.

[GROANS]

Well, team captain,

you've got two days
to assemble a new team.

Team captain?

GRANDDAD:
Yep, new team, no problem,
Mr. Wuncler.

We're on it.

[***]

Who the f*ck are you?

I am Jigme.
I come from Tibet.

I want to defeat the Chinese
oppressors in kickball.

Why?
I hate f*cking Chinese.

I'd like a word with you
in private.

This team is pathetic.

They don't stand a chance
against the Chinese.

Not one single
g*dd*mn sh*t in hell.

It'll be an embarrassment
they'll never, ever live down

for the rest of their miserable
lives until they die.

You know what one of these balls
can do to a human body?

They'll get torn to pieces.
Ripped to shreds.

Some may even lose control
of their bowels.

By the third inning
they'll be pissing and sh1tting

on themselves right in front
of their friends and loved ones.

It's gonna be flat-out
f*cking terrible.

We must find
some better athletes.

This is what you got.

[SIGHS]

I want to say a few words
to everybody here

about victory.

Unfortunately there's absolutely
no time to train you people.

But I have bought each of you
a brand-new pair of sneakers.

These shoes were handmade

with the youngest Chinese
sweatshop labor we could find.

Wear them with pride.

I'm gonna be like, "Take this,
you yellow rat bastard."

[GRUNTS]

m*therf*cker!

Greetings, friends.
Forgive our intrusion.

We came to wish you luck
in tomorrow's game.

I look forward
to an unforgettable contest.

[LAUGHS]

Give them their ball back.

GRANDDAD:
Damn.

[CROWS SQUAWKING]

[TREE CRASHES]

ANNOUNCER [ON PA]:
Welcome, sports fans,

to the rd biannual
Wushung/Woodcrest Junior/Senior

Harmonious Kickball Tournament.

Both teams on the field
and already there seems to be

some type of trouble.

Seems like the owner
of the Wushung team

is accusing one of the
Woodcrest players

of being a ringer.
The rules say

any player must be a resident
of Wushung or Woodcrest.

He is absolutely a resident.

Here is his hot Caucasian wife
and half-Asian baby.

ANNOUNCER:
And now the Woodcrest team
is making a complaint.

Looks like the Wushung team
has one too many adult members.

Everybody knows Junior/Senior
Tournament rules

say the roster must have
an equal number

of kids and adults.

Dolo is strong and healthy
like many kids in China,

but I assure you he is only
years old.

Here is the official keeper
of government records

to verify that fact.

ANNOUNCER:
Heh! Looks like the ref

is gonna let it slide.
Tough break for the home team.

Play kickball.

[CROWD CHEERING]

ANNOUNCER:
Huey Freeman on the mound.

There is a lot of excitement
about this young man's return

to the sport of kickball.

Little Ming Do
steps up to the plate.

What a treat to see these
two titans of the game

face off
against one another.

Let's go, Huey!

Show them what's good, Huey!

ANNOUNCER:
Huey looks absolutely
determined out there folks...

Oh! Hello! And goodbye!

And that one is out of here.
Not a good start for Freeman.

You suck, Huey!

You worthless m*therf*cker.

ANNOUNCER:
Next kicker is Lily Chang,

a -year-old retired
farm worker with diabetes.

Folks, she's experiencing
complete kidney failure.

Hasn't peed in three years.

This might just be the warm-up
that Freeman needs.

And here's the pitch.

[GRUNTS]

ANNOUNCER:
Oh, mother!

What the hell do you call this?

I'm trying, all right?
Get your sh*t together.

Kicker up.

ANNOUNCER:
Huey's not having the best

day of his life here today,
folks.

Let's see if he can't
get it together.

Strike!
Throws one and strike.

And another strike.

Huey Freeman is getting that
pitching arm warmed up now,

and that is two
back-to-back strikeouts.

[ALL GROAN]

ANNOUNCER:
Dolo steps up to the plate.

And we've been waiting for this
matchup all day and...

Oh, look at that!

That's gonna leave a mark...

in his pants.
Damn!

Good job, boy. This game is more
important than you.

Someone get him some Demerol.

And make sure
it's the good stuff.

ANNOUNCER:
In the kicker's box right now

is Huey Freeman,
the pride of Woodcrest.

Yeah!

ANNOUNCER:
Everyone's cheering.
Here he goes.

He locks in
and the ball is coming up...

He's got a...
Little bit girly,

but it'll get the job done.

[ALL CHEERING]

Next up is Riley Freeman.

Wait a min...
Hold on, what's this?

Oh, my.
His first time at the plate

and he's calling a home run.

And Ming lets go
with a fireball.

Riley's got his eye...

Strike!

Strike two!

Strike three!

Good grief.

[CROWD BOOING]

ANNOUNCER:
Tom's up.
He's getting a good stretch on.

We don't expect a whole lot
out of this Tom guy, but...

[ALL CHEERING]

ANNOUNCER:
Apologizing here.

Tom is really putting this
relay right back to Ming.

She locks in, Tom is in midst
of celebration.

He can do no wrong.

Oh, looks like
it's lights out for Tom.

[CROWD MURMURING]

Folks, Ming is really giving
the crowd here

quite a lesson
in kickball today.

Mr. Freeman steps up.

He's gonna give it
all he's got.

And he does give it
all he's got,

which frankly
just is not a lot.

Quite anemic,

but Mr. Freeman's gonna make it
to first base soon as he can.

Looks like he's gonna
take one of those

"old people walking around
the mall" leisurely strolls.

I'm out. Yep, I'm out.

[CROWD BOOS]

ANNOUNCER:
There he goes.

Lights out for the old man.
You're out!

ANNOUNCER:
These folks are giving the
Americans quite a schooling.

We got an easy out now
and the ball...

Oh, looks like we don't
have an easy out.

I don't know
what's going on here,

but this American team
has lost its wheels.

Now they got a hit,
we got a runner,

he's being pelted with shoes.

Nice tennis shoes,
by the way.

Probably made by tiny little
hands in a Chinese factory.

Now the Chinese have...

Now that...
Okay, that is just wrong.

Now that is three-on-one,
and that's horrible.

Just what the hell
do you think you're doing?

I paid you good money
for this game.

Yeah? So did he.

I'll take the Chinese money.

WUNCLER:
Listen, I don't care the refs
are cheating.

We cannot lose this game.
The stakes are too high.

Well, who bet the whole town
on a kickball game?

Okay, maybe it was
a wrong decision

to bet all of our economic
futures on a kickball game,

but we're Americans.

We don't quit
just because we're wrong.

We just keep doing the wrong
thing until it turns out right.

This is stupid.
I'm going home.

What about them, Huey?

Your teammates.
You got them into this.

Now you're turning your back
on them?

We gotta make
the m*therf*ckers pay.

Come on, I don't want
to play no more neither,

but we can't go out
like a bunch of little b*tches.

Granddad?
I'm trying to save my house

and my big-titty p*rn.

It's up to you, Huey.

The sooner you stop
holding back

and decide to play
like a winner,

the sooner we can all go home.

ANNOUNCER:
Woodcrest really needs
something

happening for them today,
because this Chinese team

is really owning their a... Oh!

[GRUNTS]

[CROWD CHEERS]
ANNOUNCER: Now we're talking!

That's the Huey Freeman this
city has fallen in love with

and feared slightly too,
I gotta admit that.

Folks, we got us a game
all of a sudden here.

[***]

[GRUNTS]

Folks, we're ready to get back
into the action here,

but there's no ref.

[CROWD MURMURING]

So this is it.

This is your ultimate contest?

In China, there is this place.

I've never seen it,
but I know it exists.

It is called the Glorious Sports
Rehabilitation Center.

But really it's a prison camp
for athletes

who have shamed their country
by losing.

My grandfather told me
if I disgrace him with failure,

he will send me there.

I too dream of the day

I can walk away
from this game forever.

I am not as lucky as you

to have that choice.

To live in America.

LONG DO: Ming!
[GASPS]

Tragically,
we've just received word

that the ref strangled himself,

jumped off a bridge,
then overdosed on amphetamines.

Oh, send my condolences
to his family.

But fortunately,
we've found a completely fair

and impartial replacement.

Hey, there, Chairman Mao.

[SPEAKING MOCK CHINESE]

Open up your eyes and let's play
some Jap baseball.

ANNOUNCER:
Freeman on the mound,

and he must really be feeling
the pressure right now.

[GRUNTS]

Freeman gives up a base kick

on what should have been
an easy strike-out.

[ALL GROAN]

ANNOUNCER:
What is going on?

Freeman is giving up
several crucial base kicks.

[IN CHINESE]
Hey, why does the big-haired kid

suck ass all of a sudden?

[IN CHINESE]
Ming told him if we lose,

we all go to a prison camp!

[BOTH LAUGH]

He believed that?
What a stupid idiot.

[LAUGHING]

What a d*ck.
He's an enormous assh*le.

[SPEAKING IN CHINESE]
I do not like to be laughed at.

Eh?

Hey, did he just...?

[CROWD GASPS]

ANNOUNCER:
And a brutal kick

takes out
the first base runner.

Both y'all is out.

Or as they say in your language:

[SPEAKING MOCK CHINESE]

Yellow n*gga.

ANNOUNCER:
Unbelievable.

We are looking at an altogether
different type

of kickball game
here today.

Huey with an up
in the air over, over and... Oh!

Wow!

[LAUGHS]

Take your base.

No? Well, dock this Chink
a day's pay

for napping on the job.

Oh!
Take your base.

ANNOUNCER:
Oh, my God.

I've never seen
moves like this before.

[ALL BOOING]

[GRUNTS]

ANNOUNCER:
This isn't kickball,

it's a complete free-for-all.

And neither the coaches
nor the referee seem to care.

[INAUDIBLE]

Hold on, hold on.

Your money ain't
worth sh*t to me,

so don't waste
your cat-flavored breath.

Get on your rickshaw
and get out of here.

[CROWD CHEERS]

ANNOUNCER:
Into the final inning

the score is now tied
to .

Both teams down
to a single player,

and years from now people
will ask of this game,

did it happen?

And I say to you now,
oh, yes. Yes, it did.

[CROWD SINGING
"AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL"]

* America, America *

* God shed his grace on thee *

* And crown thy good
With brotherhood *

* From sea to shining sea *

[***]

[SCREAMS]
[SCREAMS]

[SHRIEKS]

[BONE CRACKS]

[CROWD GASPS]

ANNOUNCER:
Wait a minute!

They have literally
destroyed the ball.

And those red balls
are indestructible.

Wait. Wait.

ANNOUNCER:
And look at the determination.

Ming trying to crawl
to first base.

But what is this?
[GROANS]

Freeman is on his feet.

He's going to tag her out

with the smoldering remains
of the ball.

[***]

[MING GROANS]

You out, little girl.

[ALL CHEER]
ANNOUNCER: And Woodcrest wins!

It's all over!

Folks, what a moment
in history!

[GROANS]

LONG DO:
Ming. Are you okay?

[AMBULANCE RADIO CHATTERING]

[ENGINE STARTS]

[SIREN BLARES]

A deal's a deal, Long.

Of course.
I am not saddened at my loss.

There are not many worthy
opponents left, my old friend.

What fun would it be if the game
were to end for good?

Congratulations,
Mr. Wuncler, sir.

Your great white leadership made
all the difference in the world.

Now what should we do
about them?

[ALL GROANING]
RILEY: Oh, my pancreas hurts.

Let them bask in the moment.

We b*at those yellow
m*therf*ckers.

Mission accomplished.

Yeah, we ain't go out
like no b*tches.

Even though the people of Tibet
are still not free,

as symbolic victories go,
this ain't bad.

RILEY:
I think Ms. Von Hausen
might be dead.

GRANDDAD:
Whoo! Let's go home

and order some Chinese.
[HUEY SIGHS]

GRANDDAD:
Unless you're not in the mood
for Chinese.

[***]