Please don’t say–
“I stole home!”
–that you stole home. Right, there it is. Hey, Mickey.
“Look what I yoinked.”
You didn’t yoink that: they gave it to you.
“No, I was going to show you all the bats I stole.”
Give those back.
“I’m entitled to a thousand bucks worth of merch in any venue I step foot in. It’s in the rider.”
You can’t write a crime into a contract. BotD told me that once, and he’s a lawyer.
“Is he? You should give me his number.”
Not a criminal attorney.
Sure. Give the bats back, Mickey.
“I like them! You can drum with them, or on them, or hit people, or sex stuff. Useful as hell, man.”
How are you gonna get them out of the stadium? Bats are bulky.
“I got someone on the inside.”
Oh, no. No. Mickey, tell me you did not drag Annabelle Garcia into this. Family is off-limits, man.
“Not Annabelle. Me. Hey. It’s me in here.”
“Why aren’t I included in more storylines?”
Because you’re always in a mascot costume. Or dead. Limits your possibilities for drama.