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The Curse of the Grebes/Transcript
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Three boys are standing on a roof overlooking the stadium. The ball falls into the gutter of the building and rolls down the drainpipe. A boy climbs down the ladder, runs around the house and catches the ball as it comes out of the pipe.
The Kid: Got it! A richly dressed man is standing behind him.
Mr. Crane: Ahem! I bet you're one of those urchins who sneaks into the park without paying! Give me that ball, you little thief!
The Kid: But, Mister, I chased it down fair and square.
Mr. Crane: My name is Horace P. Crane. I own the Grebes, I own the land you're standing on, and I own that ball. The boy spits on the ball before handing it to Crane.
The Kid: Then with this ball I curse your crummy team! You're never gonna win another chamionship!
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Muffy has shown Francine her dad's “Go Grebes”-commercial.
Francine: That is so hypocritical! You and your dad have always been Kings fans.
Muffy: Yeah, but now the Grebes have three wins. It's much more fun to be on the winning side
Francine: Anyone can root for a winning team. It takes character to stick with the underdogs.
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In Buster's fantasy, everybody blames him for bringing bad luck.
Brain: You've done enough damage!
Buster: What are you doing here?? You don't even believe in the curse.
Brain: Of course not. But according to the quantum theory, the outcome of any experiment is partly determined by the presence of a particular observer.
Buster: What does that have to do with baseball?
Brain: Your very presence in the stands has a negative effect on the physics of baseball for the Grebes.
Playmon: In other words: you're the curse.
Buster: Nooo!
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While picking out a milk carton Buster notices Grebes player Playmon standing beside him.
Buster: Oh! Playmon?
Playmon: Hey, kid.
Buster: Wow! This is...! I'm a big fan.
Playmon: Nice to meet you.
Buster: Would you sign my milk carton?
Playmon: Sure. What's your name?
Buster: Buster Baxter. Winlin and Batería join Playmon.
Winlin: Hey, Playmon, there's a special on apples.
Buster: Winlin?! Batería! You guys buy groceries too?
Playmon: This is Buster. How about signing this for him? He hands the carton to Winlin.
Winlin: We really appreciate your support. We couldn't do it without fans like you.
Batería: You going to the big game?
Buster: Yes. I mean no. Trust me, you don't want me there.
Batería: Why not?
Buster: You know how you lost games two, five and six? It was my fault.
Winlin: Guess we're off the hook.
Buster: No, it's true. When I'm in the stands, you lose. When I'm not, you win. It's the curse. I bring the curse.
He walks away. The three players follow him.
Batería: No es verdad. It's not true.
Playmon: The curse is you not showing up for the game because you're afraid we lose.
Winlin: The curse is you thinking that we don't need you in the stands tomorrow because the fact is we do. Ever hear of Dickinson?
Buster: Shortstop?
Winlin: Poet. Lived in New England. Wrote a poem that goes like this. “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul / and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.“
Playmon: Do you see what we're trying to say?
Buster: Not really.
Winlin: Tomorrow at the big game, hope is a green-tailed grebe. If we're gonna win...
Playmon: ...then we need all the fan support we can get.
Batería: We need you, Buster, curse or no curse.
Winlin: Yeah, Buster, we need you.