You are now entering the Twinkie Town Zone

Calvin Mattheis/News Sentinel via Imagn Content Services, LLC

An attempt at Satire, Irreverence, and (perhaps) other Humor.

Scene 1: The Twins are boarding their chartered flight to Cleveland from LAX.

La Makina: Whoa, what a trip, fly in, play a double header, and fly back the same night; I’m beat.

Dobstache: Me too, I hope I can sleep; I always have trouble sleeping on planes.

A few minutes later, everybody is seated.

Buck: (Staring blankly out the window, but then startled by something outside.) Kep, look out the window; there’s a huge hairy beast on the wing!

Kep: (Very groggy) It’s probably just Willingham trying to get back with the team. Now go to sleep.

Buck: No, no – look, it really is a monster out there!

Kep looks out the window and sees nothing.

Kep: It’s just your imagination, or you ran into the wall one too many times today.

Buck looks out the window again, and this time sees nothing too.

Buck: (Laughing nervously) Yeah; I guess it’s just late and must be some weird shadows from the terminal lighting.

Buck continues staring out the window, biting his fingernails as the plane taxis and takes off. Once in the air, he finally starts to lean back in his seat.

Buck: (Suddenly shoots straight up, pointing out the window, and yelling at the top of his lungs) No! No, there it is again. And it’s ripping the engine off the wing and flames are shooting out the back; we’re all going to die!

GarvSauce: (Yawning) Buck, you are way too intense man. Chill dude, the season’s a long way from over, and we’re all trying to get some sleep so we’re ready to kick the Shinola out of the Spiders.

That annoying "ding" that lets you know an announcement is about to interrupt your movie catches Buck’s attention away from the window.

Mauer: Good evening everybody, this is your captain speaking…

Kirilloff: (Muttering to himself) That’s Mauer; that old man retired like a decade ago didn't he, and he still thinks he is the captain of this team?

Mauer: Yes, yes, I am rookie, so zip it. Now, back to my team talk here. First, that is not a monster out on the wing, and flames are not shooting out the engine; though I wish I could say the same thing about your season so far. Second, I have to take a leak; and since none of you can fly this plane like you can fly out - except when there’s a guy on third with less than two outs - I’m taking it down here for an emergency landing.

Cut to Scene 2: Black and white shot, a man stands alone, wearing a black, thin lapel suit, on a small studio stage.

Rod Serling: Imagine with me if you will, a team reeling from crashing expectations. They think they are on their way to the next series against the Cleveland Brown Recluses, but little do they know they are about to enter another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound, but also of mind. At the terminal up ahead, it’s the Twinkie Town Zone. (Fade Out)

Scene 3: Fade In - Twins, present and past, mill about backstage of a sound studio; the director enters.

Director: Ok everybody, gather round so we can get the parts assigned and hand out the scripts. So, we will be filming a mash-up of the Rocky saga, Minnesota Twins style; though I hope it’s the Twins of 1987 and 1991, and not 2021 so far.

Nick Gordon: (Mumbling to himself) Smart Ass.

Director: (Turns and glares into the very soul of Gordon) Stow it, rookie. (turns attention back to everybody) Now, playing the part of Rocky Balboa is, Rocco Baldelli.

Colome: (Mumbling to himself) I guess it’s all in your name and connections.

Director: (Turns and glares into the very soul of Colome) Stow it, pitching like a rookie. (turns attention back to everybody) Moving along; Mickey will be played by Tom Kelly.

Gardy: (Not mumbling, at least not in volume level) Why the hell does he get Mickey and not me?

Director: Because he’s a wrinkly, grey haired, cigar chomping, grumpy curmudgeon.

Gardy: Well so am I!

Blyleven: (Off stage) Yeah, but you’re also fat, bald, and more known for your beer guzzling, so accept your type cast part and sit your ass down!

Gardy: Who the hell is that?

Director: Gardy, you will be playing Paulie.

Gardy: Polly, I’ll be damned if I’m playing a woman; what kind of male bovine fecal matter is this?

Director: Paulie – P-A-U-L-I-E, a guy, not P-O-L-L-Y.

Gardy: (Mumbling) Well ok, but this is still bullsh…

Baldelli: Hey "Mickey", did you see the game last night? We won, and pretty good too. Will you be my trainer?

TK: I would not train you if you were the last manager on earth.

Baldelli: But why?

Kelly: Cuz yer a bum Rocco, nothin’ but a two-bit stats licker!

Baldelli: (Undeterred) How ‘bout you Gary?

Gardy: That’s Gardy you moron, and just keep yourself and your bedspread away from me.

Baldelli: Bedspread? – Oh, you mean my spreadsheets!

Gardy: Yeah, whatever, never sheet a shitter.

Baldelli: But I want to learn how to use my gut instincts once in a while.

Gardy: Look kid, you’re startin’ to let them TT’ers get into your head. When I was manager, they complained that I didn’t know or care about advanced scratch tickets.

Baldelli: Um, that’s advanced stats Gary.

Gardy: Whatever, and it’s Gardy you chuckle head.

Baldelli: Whatever.

Gardy: The point is, to them, I lost games and championships cuz I didn’t use scratch tickets and went only with my gut; now you lose games and championships cuz you can’t let go of your security bedspreads and find a gut instinct. Don’t let ‘em do it to you kid, they’re going to yell "Fire Dwayne ‘The Rocco’ Johnson" eventually, no matter what you do.

Director: Ok, ok, let’s get back to the business at hand; the part of Adrian will be played by Falvine.

Blyleven: (Off stage) This will be sweet; Baldelli taking their glasses off and letting their hair down. But they will never be Talia Shire.

Baldelli: (Pumping his hands into the air, yelling as loud as he can) Yo, Falvindrian, I did it!

Falvine: (Barely above a whisper) Not yet, Rocco, not yet. And sooner or later, the bell ain’t gonna save you.

Director: (Cuts in) And next we have Apollo Creed. I tried to leverage some connections from the past to get the Yankees, but Cashman said you guys haven’t even sniffed a draw, let alone beating them, so instead of using one word to say no, he used two: f*ck that.

Aaron Judge: (Entering) Wait, wait; Brian said that since me and Stanton are on the IL almost as much as Buxton, that we could come represent the Yankees and our domination of you guys.

Giancarlo Stanton: So, Judge will play Apollo, and I will play Clubber Lang.

Boomstick: Hey, I wanted to play Clubber.

Judge: (Sticks his tongue out at Nellie, then turns, pointing a gloved hand at Baldelli) Hey chump, yeah you, I want you chump.

Stanton: (Sticks his tongue out at Nellie, then turns, pointing a gloved hand at Baldelli) Hey, Balbodelli, you been duckin’ me, cuz you afraid of me. You know you can’t beat me, when you gonna stop thinking the Royals and the Tigers are a true measure of greatness?

Director: (Cutting back in without missing a beat) And Thunderlips will be played by Sano, with LNP as his stunt double.

Gardy: (Suddenly breathless) Nicky, he’s going to be here, where are you little buddy?

Blyleven: (Off stage) Sano?

Director: We tried to get Hrbek, but we couldn’t afford his beer demands, so we went with the next biggest Twins player we had access to.

Sano: (Pride wounded) A stunt double; and LNP?

Director: Relax big fella, you didn’t think Balbodelli was going to press you overhead and toss you out of the ring, did you?

Sano: Well since you put it that way.

Gardy: Nicky, Nicky, where are you?

Arraez: There he is, standing behind Sano’s right leg.

Gardy: Nicky, I know you’re the grittiest player to ever get after it, but are you sure you’re up to this? It might not be safe getting tossed out of a boxing ring.

LNP: (Pouting) After all those years together, and seeing me AB after AB sliding headfirst into the batter’s box, and you wonder if I am up to it? Safe? You know I was safe at first a whole lot more because of my headfirst slide than I ever would have been trying to run through the bag like the rest of those slackers.

Gardy: (Dreamy) That was a thing of beauty; flying through the air with the greatest of ease.

LNP: (Still pouting) To be honest Gary, that stings, even more than the bleach and rubbing alcohol the guys would pour over all my scrapes after every game!

Gardy: (Drops to his knees, clutching his heart as if stabbed) Et tu Punto; et tu?

Cave: (Rolling his eyes) Too bad this isn’t a soap opera.

Blyleven: (Off stage) Have you seen the season so far?

LNP: Look, all I need is first base placed just below where I'll be going over the ropes so I can get my bearings in the air and know how to land; it’s not like this is my first circus rodeo clown act.

Director: (Cutting in as if never interrupted) So the final role for this is Drago, who will be played by Josh Donaldson.

Simba: Donaldson; are you kidding? Sure, he’s a nice guy, but you know Drago has to run on a treadmill and lumber around the ring like Rocky Marciano; either one of those activities could ruin his calf for the rest of his bloated contract.

Blyleven: (Off stage) What, it’s not like you’re going to need him in a playoff game this year.

Director: Look, don’t get your panties in a wad here. I paid attention to the Twins last year, so I’ve got that covered; Donaldson, you’ll be Drago whenever we need a pretty boy head shot, but for any shot below the neck, or requiring right calf movement, La Tortuga will be your stunt double.

Colome: Hey, wait just a gosh darn minute here; I know who you are; you’re Ron Davis. Who died and left you in charge?

Director: Well, it certainly wasn’t you, but I hope Balbodelli keeps trotting you out as the closer, cuz you’re starting to make me look good.

At this point, chaos and mayhem break out, as if it were the ninth inning, home or away, does not really matter, and the Twins clinging for dear life to a three-run lead.

Break to Scene 4: Black and white shot, a man stands alone, wearing a black, thin lapel suit, on a small studio stage.

Rod Serling: We all live in an ethereal plane, never knowing when we might be pulled from one universe into another. As the Minnesota Twins’ dumpster fire flares out of control, the flames licking the very doors of Heaven and the threshold to the gates of Hell, all I can do is hope the Twinkie Town Zone does not expand and destroy -- the Twilight Zone.