"I'm sorry, but Fred Lynn blah blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah money, blah blah no contract, blah blah hurt too often, blah blah blah. Blah blah Angels."

"What?! No Fred Lynn?! I don't believe it. Of all the stupid, idiotic-Oh, excuse me. Mr. Sullivan. Uh, well, if I can't talk to Lynn, how about the Rooster--Rick Burleson. Best shortstop in the league, real gusty too. He'd make a great story."

"I'm sorry, but Rick Burleson blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah money, blah blah six years, blah blah pain in the neck. Blah blah Angels too. Blah."

Now wait just a minute here. You gave the Angels Lynn and Burleson? Two of the best middle-of-the-field players in baseball? Who the hell do you think you are Mr. H.S.? Huh? Look, set me up with Carlton Fisk. He's not only a great catcher, but he speaks his mind. I want to know what he thinks of all this."

"Carlton Fisk blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah money, blah blah blah blah late contract, blah blah blah free agent. Blah blah blah blah blah."

"Tell me, H.S., you fielding a team or what? I've just about had enough of this. I'm starting to think H.S. stands for 'Hey, Stupid.' See you later."

"Wait...how about Chico Walker..." Click.

Damn Red Sox, always messing things up, Rrrrring.

"California Angels, Mary speaking. May I help you?"