BRAMPSON—Aw, knock it off, Mister Powell.
(Pencil spotlight beams down on the center of the closed curtains. Boog Powell comes out, still in his Oriole uniform. He is carrying a huge bat and a bucket of Styrofoam baseballs. He puts the bucket down, picks out a ball. He looks at it for a long moment, then tosses it up and hits it into the balcony. He hits another ball, and then another. Boog now sings, punctuating his song by batting the foam baseballs into the audience)
BOOG—I COULD BAT FIVE HUNDRED IF HE'D LET ME...
BUT WHAT WOULD IT EVER GET ME? WHY, WITH MY ARMS CHOCK-FULL OF STEEL...
I FEEL ALMOST REAL...
BUT...BUT, YOU KNOW WHAT?/NO ONE LOVES A POOR ROBOT!