You probably should read part one before reading part two. Then, it'll make sense to you why Nick Punto is trying to detonate a nuclear Shamwow in Los Angeles. And now, for the thrilling conclusion:
[12:00 PM]
Marquez is still locked in the blogger's basement. The blogger sits at his computer devouring a plate of pizza puffs.
Blogger: Oooh, a new Jermaine Dye rumor from Bruce Levine! Dye for Fukudome, with the Cubs paying all of Fukudome's salary! This means no more Jerry Owens woooooooooooooooo!
Marquez: Hey, do you think I could have something to drink?
Blogger: All I have is Mountain Dew or crab juice.
Marquez: Is it legal for '24' to steal lines from 'The Simpsons'?
Blogger: Probably not, Rupert Murdoch isn't exactly a nice guy. Although I still like him better than Steinbrenner.
Marquez: You did it again. That's just lazy writing. Now, about that drink?
Blogger: Was your FIP above 5.00 in AAA last year?
Marquez: What the hell is FIP?
Blogger: Well, it was. So you'll get nothing and like it.
Marquez: You know, you're pretty reactionary and unreasonable.
Blogger: Alright, that's it. [Picks up phone, starts dialing furiously] I guess I'll have to bring in somebody to give you what you deserve.
Marquez: Aren't you a Sox fan yourself?
Blogger: Well...yes...but...shut up! [into phone] Hello? Yeah, it's me. I need your help. Thanks. See you in a bit.
Marquez: Who's Mike?
Blogger: Oh, you'll see.
[1:00]
Cut to a shot of an airplane 35,000 feet above America. Punto has forced the plane to fly to Los Angeles, but unbeknown to him, the plane is flying to Washington D.C. WHAT A HUGE CHANGE IN THE PLOT OF "24"!!!
Punto: Oh man, I can't wait to get to Los Angeles. Detonating this bomb is going to be more exciting than blooping a single into right field!
Uribe, rising courageously: You know, Punto, you don't have to do this. Blowing up Los Angeles no es divertido. Why not just continue your life of hustle and weak singles?
Punto: You don't understand what it's like to not have power, Juanie. You have the ability to hit a 450-foot home run on every pitch, even though you rarely do so. Me? I can barely hit the ball out of the infield. Having this bomb gives me power. It's my only chance to ever have power, so DON'T TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME!
Punto lunges at Uribe, hustling over rows of seats to get to him.
Uribe: Take it easy, Punto. You don't want to see me when I go profundo.
Punto: I'll take my chances. [punches Uribe]
Uribe and Punto struggle for the rest of the episode. While Uribe has more power, he frequently misses golden opportunities to knock the scrappy fighter Punto out as the plane descends on Washington D.C.
[2:00 PM]
The doorbell rings at the blogger's house.
Blogger: Ah, that must be Mike now. Sit tight, Jeff. Things are about to get real ugly.
Mike: Hiya sport! Gee, it's awfully kind for you to invite me over to your place for some good old fashioned batting practice!
Blogger: Yeah, batting practice. Okay, I got everything teed up for you downstairs.
Mike goes downstairs.
Mike: Hey, there's not a tee down here at all! There's just a pitcher with a pedestrian strikeout rate tied to a chair!
Blogger: I know. I want you to practice hitting on his fibula.
Mike: Good gravy, I can't do that! It'll hurt him! Plus, I'll probably hit a rocket line drive off his fibula in the regular season.
Blogger: It'll help your batting average if you do it. I'm serious.
Mike: Well, if you say so...
Mike readies his stance to hit Marquez' leg. As he takes a step to swing, his phone goes off.
Mike: Hello?
Dayton Moore: Hey, Mike, listen...we've just traded you to Arizona for Eric Byrnes.
Mike: Wait, what? That trade makes no sense!
Dayton Moore: Well, we wanted to open up a spot for Willie Bloomquist because he's a great on-base guy, so we had to deal you away. Byrnes fits that hustle model that we've been striving for this offseason, too.
Mike: Aw shucks. Well, I better be leaving, then.
Aviles exits and the Royals become 200% more mediocre.
Blogger: Great. Now what am I going to do to Marquez?
[3:00 PM]
This entire episode consists of Kenny Williams yelling "DAMMIT" while killing terrorists who are shooting a rain of bullets at him. He's unable to find the blogger's house, but has another secret weapon up his sleeve. Stay tuned.
[4:00 PM]
Punto's plane lands at Dulles International Airport in Washington, D.C, but not before it nearly crashes into seven planes that buzz just a few feet over it.
Punto: Aaaah, sunny Los Angeles! I can't wait to blow this place up!
He exits the plane. It's snowing, and he somehow can see the Washington Monument in the distance.
Punto: Wait, this isn't Los Angeles at all! I've been had!
Uribe: Profundo! Los Angeles is saved!
Punto: Not so fast, my friend. I still have the nuke, and I can blow it up whenever I want.
Uribe: But that'll put the president in danger! No!
Punto: Yep. Just another groundbreaking president put in danger.
Uribe: So that means you'd just kill the United States' first non-U.S. born president, just like that?
Punto: Look, this plot makes no sense at all right now, so just go with it.
Punto gets off the plane and jumps into an unmarked white van, which speeds off the runway.
[5:00 PM]
Williams, on the phone with his secretary:
Secretary: The tracking bug you put on Marquez in the Arizona Fall League is finally responding! He's in Hinsdale, Kenny!
Williams: Brian, you've done some good work. We might actually consider giving you some playing time in 2009.
Secretary: Great! No more crying on the bench listening to "Put me in coach, I'm ready to play!" for this guy! Oh, Kenny, you're getting another call. It's from a private number. I'm sending it through.
Williams: DAMMIT, BRIAN! I TOLD YOU NEVER TO DO THAT!
Scott Boras: Hello, Kenny. I hear you have a problem.
Williams: Oh, great. I thought I told you never to call me again. Doesn't this violate your restraining order, too?
Scott Boras: Whatever. Listen, Omar Minaya doesn't want to pay $70 million for Oliver Perez. You want him for that price?
Williams: I don't negotiate with terrorists. [hangs up]
Williams speeds off toward Hinsdale.
[6:00 PM]
Uribe: I gotta find that van. I gotta find that van. Who do I know in Washington that can help me? [searches phone] Yes! There we go. [dials phone]
Secret agent: Hello?
Uribe: Willie, it's Juanie. You remember, from 2005?
Secret agent: Yeah, Juanie. What's up?
Uribe: Look, I need to find an unmarked white van somewhere in the Washington DC area. I figured your super speed and versatility could help.
Secret agent: Sure. What's in the van?
Uribe: Nick Punto and a nuclear bomb.
Secret agent: PPPPPPPPPUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNTTTTTTTTOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
Uribe: Call me if you find it.
Secret agent: Definitely. Punto is as good as dead.
[7:00 PM]
Williams arrives outside the blogger's house in Hinsdale.
Williams: Alright, guns? Check. Loads of ammo? Check. Fists? Check and check.
Williams kicks through the basement window. He unties Marquez.
Williams: Marquez! Are you okay?
Marquez: I think so. Mike Aviles came to try and hurt me, but was traded to the Diamondbacks before he could do anything.
Williams: I'm so glad Jon Schuerholz didn't pass on his infinite wisdom to Moore when he left Atlanta. Okay, let's get you out of here.
Blogger: Not so fast, infidel.
Williams: A blogger! I hate bloggers!
A firefight ensues between Williams and the blogger. Somehow, nobody is hit. The blogger eventually escapes, but Williams has Marquez.
Williams: I'm so happy to have you back. Now everyone can see what your sinker can do at U.S. Cellular Field!
[8:00 PM]
Back to D.C. Willie Harris found a white van and is calling Uribe.
Uribe: You got something?
Secret agent: Yeah, it's an unmarked white van. I'm going to cut it off and see what's inside.
Harris fishtails the van and rams it into a wall. He quickly opens the door of the van, but to his surprise, Punto is not inside.
Rod Blagojevich, sitting with large bags that have dollar signs on them: What are you doing?!
Secret agent: Ummmm...nothing. What are you doing?
Blagojevich: Nothing. Nothing illegal here.
As Harris tries to comprehend what the heck is going on in the plot, another white van speeds by. Harris turns and runs it down.
Driver: What's the holdup? Nothing illegal here, either.
Secret agent: Can I see the back of your car, sir?
Driver: Okay, but I assure you there's nothing back there.
Punto jumps out the back and hustles off.
Secret agent: Hey, get back here!
[9:00 PM]
Williams has caught up to the blogger, who's running down a street.
Williams: YOU CAN'T RUN, DAMMIT! I WILL FIND YOU!
Blogger: I was doing it all for the team's own good!
Williams: No you weren't how would you know anything about the team?
Blogger: Because...I'm on the team. [suspenseful music]
Meanwhile, in D.C., Harris has caught up to Punto, cornering him in an alley. Uribe has also met up with Harris.
Secret agent: It's over, Punto! Give me the bomb!
Punto: Fine. Here it is.
Punto hands over the nuclear Shamwow to Uribe.
Uribe: That was easy. Too easy.
Uribe looks down to find the bomb is ticking.
Punto: That's right. I weakly triggered the countdown, so this bomb will detonate at 11:59.
Uribe: God, this guy is annoying. We gotta find a way to get this bomb away from civilization!
Secret agent: Where could that be? We only have a few hours to get rid of the bomb!
Uribe: Got it. If we get on a plane now, we can get a to a place where nobody goes!
Secret agent: Where's that?
Uribe: Downtown Detroit.
Uribe quickly leaves on a plane to Detroit. Of course, as it takes off, it nearly hits another one. SUSPENSE!
[10:00 PM]
Williams is confronting the blogger about his connection to the White Sox.
Williams: YOU play for the White Sox? Why don't I recognize you?
Blogger: You should. I won 17 games last year.
Williams: ...Gavin?
Blogger: Yeah. Gavin Floyd.
Williams: So why did you lock up Jeff Marquez in your basement and order Nick Punto to detonate a nuke in Los Angeles?
Floyd: It all makes sense—just hear me out. I'm not going to be as good as I was last year. I need protection at the back of the rotation, and I don't think Marquez provides that. I had to go undercover so you would realize this and sign a veteran, like Freddy Garcia.
Williams: What about Punto?
Floyd: I figured he'd destroy his already weak ability to hit in the nuclear blast. I just never wanted you to find out what I was doing.
Williams: Why's that?
Floyd: I thought you'd trade me to Baltimore.
Williams: I'd never do that, Gavin.
Floyd: So will you sign a veteran starter?
Williams: Yes. Yes, I will. [dials phone number]
The White Sox new starting pitcher: Hthlsdo?
Williams: Bartolo, I thought we had this talk when you were with the Sox. Don't talk while eating.
Colon: But I'm eating for most of my time awake!
Williams, sighing: I know. Hey, listen, you want to pitch for the White Sox next year?
Colon: Yeah, sure. How much are you going to pay me?
Williams: $700,000 base salary with a ton of incentives.
Colon: What kind of incentives?
Williams: Well, if you make the All-Star game, how about you get unlimited Dunkin' Donuts for a year.
Colon: Where do I sign? That sounds awesome! Thanks, Kenny! [hangs up]
Williams: There, problem solved. Now let's stop Punto from blowing up Los Angeles!
[11:00 PM]
Uribe is on a plane with the bomb. It's set to go off at 11:58. As the plane descends toward Detroit, Uribe's phone goes off.
Uribe: Hola?
Floyd: Juanie, it's Gavin Floyd. Have you located Punto?
Uribe: I found him, and have the bomb now. I think...I think I'm not going to be able to live through its detonation.
Floyd: What's your plan?
Uribe: I'm going to drop the bomb in the middle of downtown Detroit so nobody gets hurt. I just don't know if I can get away quick enough to escape.
Floyd: Just use your speed, Juanie. Everything will be profundo.
Uribe, feeling confident: You're right, Gavin. It will be.
Floyd: We're going to take a helicopter to come get you. Detonate the bomb, and then we'll come pick you up. You're going to be a hero, Juanie.
Uribe: Gracias.
Floyd and Williams get in a helicopter and immediately fly out across Lake Michigan toward Detroit.
[11:58]
Williams looks out the side of the helicopter to see a mushroom cloud erupt over the city of Detroit. Williams sighs, looking dismayed. Eventually, they land in downtown Detroit, completely ignoring the fact that there probably was a lot of radiation in the air.
Williams: Good lord, it's a dead zone here.
Floyd: Actually, everything looks the same.
Williams: You're right, it does. That's odd.
Uribe emerges from the dark, with the bomb/Shamwow in his hand. The clock is turned off.
Williams: Juanie, what did you do? How did the bomb not go off?
Uribe: I used my super smarts to shut it off. It really wasn't that hard, all I had to do was make one easy payment of $19.95.
Floyd: But what about the mushroom cloud we saw?
Uribe: Oh, that. I think somebody lit Magglio Ordonez' hair on fire.
Williams: Makes sense. Now let's go home.
The three walk off into the night. But Punto still lives to wreak havoc/infield singles on the AL Central. Like the terrorists in the real "24," he'll never go away.
The end.
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