Pit Your Wits Week 4: Draw Me Like One Of Your Bench Girls

April is over. May is starting. Pit Your Wits is forever. You cannot stop it.

Here is who won last week's challenge of a TV finale pitch (baseball term):

First Place - soco (6 recs)

The Mad-Backs Season Finale

It’s crunch time in the office of Kendrick Hall Towers Gibby, as they prepare to woo a big account, or fear closing their doors forever. Meanwhile, Kevin Towers has a existential crisis.

INT. KENDRICK HALL TOWERs GIBBY OFFICE, WRITER ROOM – MORNING

Copywriters Parra, Ross, and Kubel sit around a table strewn with papers and burrito wrappers. They are having an animated discussion.

KUBEL: When I think of fall, it’s all earth tones.

PARRA: (holds up a loosely drawn one-sheet depicting a ball player on a field of orange and brown leaves) We have the visual, just no tag.

ROSS: (squinting) I can’t see anything.

PARRA: It’s right here. (passes it over to Ross, who inspects it closely)

ROSS: I think this is getting there, but it could probably use more undead. And maybe some cryptic runes written in blood?

EATON walks in, arm in a sling.

EATON: How’s the copy going? Towers has a client meeting later and we need this done.

KUBEL: Maybe if he ever gave us direction, we’d be done.

INT. TOWERS OFFICE – MORNING

Towers stands by the long bank of windows, looking down at the street below. He holds a tumblr of brown alcohol and his face is empty. The phone rings, and he lets it go for a bit, before finally answering it.

TOWERS: Grr.

[cut to Billy Beane in the Stomper outfit, minus the head. He is standing in a tunnel leading to the field at the Oakland Coliseum. We cut back and forth between the characters as they converse]

BEANE: Kevy! Glad I could catch you. Look, I’ve been thinking about my roster, and your roster, and I think we could make a deal here.

TOWERS: It’s September, Billy.

BEANE: Exactly! No one will ever see it coming. Look, how about I send you, say, Scott Sizemore and Bartolo Colon, for…Paul Goldschmidt.

TOWERS: You have to be kidding me, no one will take that seriously.

BEANE: But you will.

TOWERS: And why would I do that?

BEANE: Because I know your secret.

Towers looks down at his phone in shock, his face going white.

BEANE: Now, why don’t you be a good boy and say yes?

TOWERS: Al…alright.

BEANE: (turns off cell phone, puts Stomper head on, and run/waddles out to the roaring fan of 10 Oaklandites)

INT. TOWERS OFFICE – MORNING

Towers hangs up the phone, the dial tone audible. He goes around the desk to sit down, and unlocks a lower drawer. Inside, is a photo of a much younger Towers, signed, "To Bill Bavasi, my biggest fan."

TOWERS: (muttering to himself) How did he find out, who I really am?

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – AFTERNOON

The junior associates of Kendrick Hall Towers Gibby wait nervously around a conference table, blown up one sheets depicting empty ballparks drawn up in the orange, reds, and browns of fall. Towers sweeps into the room, clients in tow. They sit down but Towers remains standing.

TOWERS: Fall. It’s the end of the year. Days are going shorter, the weather is turning cooler, we’ve backloaded the year with a variety of holidays. Pumpkins, feasts, football. Gifts and sugarplum fairies are just around the corner. But first there’s baseball. And not just any baseball, but the most glorious version of the perfect game. It culminates every year with the World Series, or the Fall Classic. After that, we can gorge ourselves with frivolities. But before that, is the Series. We’ve imagine a series of ads that depict the game in glorious fall colors.

SELIG: I like the visuals, but where are the players?

TOWERS: The beauty of the Fall Classic isn’t the players, or even the team. It’s us. (he moves a cellophane sheet over each ad, which has the phrase "It’s All Our Classic")

Selig appears to be impressed, and Heath Bell attempts to start a slow clap.

INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE THE CONFERENCE ROOM

Towers leads his ad team out of the conference room, and they all have looks of smug satisfaction. As they reach the elevator, though, out of the lift comes Justin Upton and the Braves, holding placards under their arms. Towers watches with visible shock as Upton goes into the conference room to make a pitch.

INT. SMOKE FILLED BAR

Towers sits at a bar with Gibby, they both have a drink.

TOWERS: Can you believe him?

GIBBY: We let him go, you can’t expect that the Braves wouldn’t try for this account, too.

TOWERS: I’d expect some kind of professional respect.

GIBBY: I think we did okay, I think we got this.

Into the bar walks Upton and his brother, BJ Upton. They sit down at the other end of and nod at Towers and Gibby.

UPTON: So I bet you’re wondering if we got the account.

TOWERS: Maybe.

UPTON: I’m sure they’ll let you know soon enough, or maybe the absence of an answer will let you know.

The bartender approaches the group with a phone.

BARTENDER: Is there a Mister Towers?

TOWERS: (takes the phone) What.

SELIG: (v/o through phone) We really enjoyed your pitch, Towers, but I regret to inform you we won’t be going for it.

TOWERS: Dangit, Selig, you went with Upton’s?"

SELIG: No. Sabean’s. Look, I gotta go. Take care of yourself.

Towers stares down at the phone, and then hands it back to the bartender. He throws a few bills onto the bar, stands up, and walks out of the bar. He doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t care.

Fin.

I saw it with my WIZARD eyes!

by soco on Apr 24, 2013 | 8:01 PM reply rec (6) actions

Third Place TIE - blank_38 and TimInTucson (4 Recs)

blank_38:

PREVIOUSLY ON THE WALKING BULLPEN

PUTZ: I’ve gathered you here today to speak of this thing called wins. Everyone here knows we can shut down the opposition, I mean, we were created by Kevin Towers.

The bullpen nods their heads in agreement, while Heath Bell scarfs down another of the rapidly dwindling population of Twinkies. He rubs his belly, and reaches into his bellybutton to gather up some lint to throw at JJ.

PUTZ: Don’t you f***ing dare Heathcliff! Where was I? Oh yes, starters have for too long gotten all the glory, they think just because they go 5 innings they can earn these wins, but no more! Today is the day we blow their leads. Now, now don’t worry about losing your jobs, I’ve already spoken with KT and the Committee of Closers and they all agree, down with the starters!

Ian was shocked. He thought to himself, Why were they doing this? and What madness had driven them to this conclusion? He immediately went to KT to get an explanation.

KENNEDY: THE BULLPEN IS MAD WITH POWER KEVIN! THEY’RE BLOWING GAMES TO GET RAISES IN ARBITRATION AND RUIN USSTARTERS! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THIS? HOW CAN YOU NOT

TOWERS: How dare you come into my office and accuse me of create a flawed bullpen! There’s a perfectly good explanation for this and it’s this: It happens with every one of my bullpens. I mean, Dan Miceli had 10 wins in ‘98, Kevin Walker in ’00 had 7, and Micah Owings was 8-0 in 2011! And now look at them all, cleaning Chase Field after games and playing catch with the trash. It’s just a phase, they’ll get over it.

KENNEDY: BUT KEVIN, IT’S SPREADING. I MEAN, LOOK AT THIS.

He showed him a baseball-reference page with the league leaders in Wins, where Eric O’Flaherty and other non-starters were scattered about.

TOWERS: Oh pish-posh Ian, you’re just overreacting. Wanna do something about it? Why not pitch into the 7th for once? Now, go back into your hibernation chamber and get ready for tomorrow. We have a big game against… uh… someone, hold on a sec, where’s that damn magnetic schedule… Here it is and we face… KENNY I WILL KILL YOU. STOP DRAWING PENISES ON MY SCHEDULE. THAT’S THE 3RD ONEYOU’VE RUINED! Anyway, we face the Rockies. Try not to give up any more homers against Tulo please?

KENNEDY: Fine, I’ll do what you want. But if I see them blow anymore leads, I’ll be seeing you again.

TOWERS: This was nice Ian. Let’s do it again sometime.

Towers calmly pulled a cigar from his desk and started smoking. Poor, poor Ian. If everything goes according to his master plan, the term "starter" would be pulled from all records. He took a puff and then stared out onto the field.

It’s the bottom of the 7th, 1 out and the D-backs up 4-2 as Trevor Cahill loads them the up on his 3rd walk of the inning.

TREVOR: Ugh why am I so sweaty! J.J. said that cream he gave me helps him with his sweat but I can hardly hold the ball now!

GIBBY: hellofagamekidnowgototheshowersyousweatybearcub

Ever since being acquired by the D-backs last year, he never could understand Gibby. It’s like he was a robot or something. He shook off the thought and ran to the dugout.

GIBBY: helloBellyouknowwhattodo

BELL: Of course. Should I give up a home run or walk in a bunch of runs?

GIBBY: doasyouwish

As soon as his warm-ups were done, he immediately plunked Tulowitzki right in the butt. Tulo fell to the ground writhing in pain and had to be taken out by stretcher. Next pitch was the same result, as Michael Cuddyer took 1st base. But as easy as he hit the previous two batters, his next pitch was a comebacker. He threw to 3rd, Prado threw to 2nd and Hill completed the double play.

KENNEDY: AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICES HE’S BLOWING THE GAME ON PURPOSE?

McCARTHY: Shutup Ian. You’re paranoid. Which is funnier, this tweet from 50 Cent from 2010 about him taking out his grandmas trash, or this tweet from @based_ball stating the Marlins ERA+ is higher than the combined ages of their starting rotation?

After that inning, the D-backs came back and defeated the Rockies 7-4 with Heath Bell earning his 7th win of the season. The disease had spread as most of the Top-25 in Wins were relievers. The only person who could stop it was Ian, and he knew what he must do next: kill the source, even if that meant destroying the man he respected more than anyone else.

Your constant harassment of the female gender makes me sick.

Here are those things they call standings:

This week's challenge:

Draw me a representation of your feelings about the month of April for the Arizona Diamondbacks. This could be anything from a three-panel comic strip to a Matisse-esque impressionistic piece.

The one ground rule for this is that whatever you submit has to be 100% drawn by you. No fancy photoshopping or anything of the sort. You can use MS Paint or whatever image program you want, or draw it by hand and scan it if you're into that sort of thing.

"But Clefo, how do pictures on the internet work?"

Well, for our purposes, you will upload your entries onto Photobucket or some other image sharing service. Then to post them in a thread, use the image button in the comment box:

When you click this, a box will pop up. You will then paste the URL of this image into the box. Ta-da! You've done it!

GET TO WORK!

(I also want to acknowledge that watching Strip Search gave me the inspiration to steal to do a challenge like this. It's a reality show about Web Cartoonists, and you should give it a watch if only because unlike most reality shows, none of the people on it are terrible human beings. Or not, do what you want.)