Exterior: Paddy’s Pub – Day
The gang is huddled around the bar, beers in hand, while Dennis scrolls on his phone with a smug expression.
Dennis: (holding up his phone) Guys, check this out. A bunch of losers in Queens ran a fan thing called the Queens Baseball Convention. Big turnout, fan engagement, sponsors, you name it. Didn’t even have an official tie-in. Seemed people really liked it. and they made money. You know what that means?
Mac: Yeah. That Mets fans are a bunch of nerds who’ll pay money for anything.
Dennis: No, Mac, it means opportunity. These idiots managed to turn their undying devotion to a garbage team into cash. Cash we could be making.
Charlie: (excited) Oh, like a scam! I love scams. What are we doin’? Fake baseball cards?
Dennis: (leaning in) Bigger. Why don’t we reach out to the Mets and pitch ourselves as the perfect people to run their fanfest?
Act 1
Dee: (rolling her eyes) The Mets? Aren’t they, like, broke or something?
Frank: (defensive) Uh, the Mets are a New York institution. Show some respect.
Dennis: Exactly, Frank. The Mets have legacy. They have brand value. And they have a desperate fanbase that’s dying for hope. We’re gonna package that desperation into an event so mind-blowingly vague, they’ll beg us to take their money.
Dee: Oh yeah? And what makes you think we can run a Mets fanfest?
Dennis: (condescending) Dee. Sweet Dee. What’s the one thing we’re all incredible at?
Charlie: (nodding) Drinking.
Dennis: No, Charlie. Scheming. We’re schemers, and no one schemes harder than us. The Mets’ll see that we’re innovators. Visionaries. Leaders.
Mac: (excited) Yeah, and I could be in charge of security. We’ll keep everything tight, make it feel legit.
Charlie: (nodding) Ooh, and I could run concessions. I got all these ideas for, like, themed snacks. Like, uh, “Mr. Met Meatballs,” but they’re just loose meat in a cup.
Dee: (interrupting) What about me? I could design new Mets road uniforms, you know? Something sleek and modern.
Dennis: (immediately shutting her down) No. Shut up, bird.
Mac: Yeah, Dee, we’re talking about baseball, not your weird fashion fantasies.
Dee: (indignant) It’s not a fantasy. The Mets do need a rebrand. They’ve been wearing the same dumb road uniforms forever—
Dennis: (cutting her off) No one cares, Dee! Why would the Mets change their road uniforms? We’re not reinventing the Mets. We’re monetizing their fans.
Charlie: (excited) Yeah, and we’ll have autograph sessions, but like, outside in the cold so they have to buy hot drinks!
Mac: Wait, why outside?
Dennis: (leaning back confidently) Because it creates exclusivity, Mac. Fans will endure anything if they think it’s special. Cold weather? Long lines? That just makes it feel important.
Charlie: Ohhh, yeah, yeah. Like when you make me wait outside the bar so people think it’s crowded.
Dennis: Exactly. And we won’t even tell these suckers which players are signing.
Dee: (sarcastic) Wow. Genius. Make people suffer to feel important.
Dennis: (snapping) Shut up, Dee.
Dennis: (ignoring her) We’ll call it …..“Amazin’ Day.”
Charlie: Sounds lame. What’s so “amazin’” about it?
Dennis: It’s Amazin’ because we say it is.
Mac: (standing) I’m sold. Let’s pitch this thing to the Mets.
Act 2: Paddy’s Pub – A Week Later
The gang is seated around the bar, huddled over a laptop. Dennis is typing furiously as the others throw out ideas.
Dennis: (reading aloud as he types) “Dear New York Mets, as lifelong fans—”
Dee: (interrupting) Wait, we’re not lifelong fans.
Mac: (pointing at her) Shut up, Dee. You don’t understand marketing. As long as we bring in some sponsors, the Mets will go for whatever we’re pitching.
Charlie: Fanatics says they’re in.
Dee: What about Topps?
Dennis (mockingly): What about Topps? Fanatics owns Topps. Will you just shut up.
Mac: We need a beer sponsor.
Dennis: Coors Light even spends money on this dump. They’ll totally go in on this, I’ll call them when we’re done.
Dennis: (resumes reading letter to the Mets) “—we understand your fans better than anyone. We’re not just passionate; we’re experts in creating unforgettable experiences that maximize fan engagement and revenue streams.”
Mac: Wait…we don’t understand their fans at all. We’re Phillies fans.
Dennis: Nobody who works for the Mets understands their fans. They had a god damn Dance team last year. You think anyone up there running things understands their fans or even cares. It’s all about the dollars.
Charlie: Yeah, and we’ll throw in, like, a mascot fight or somethin’. People love mascots punching each other.
Dennis: (nodding) That’s actually not a bad idea. Mascots equal family appeal. Write that down, Charlie.
Charlie: (scribbling on a napkin) Got it.
Dee: Can I pitch my uniform redesign now?
Dennis: (snapping) No, Dee! No one cares about your stupid uniforms. The Mets road uniforms are fine. Why in the name of God would the Mets redesign their road uniforms? Are you an idiot? it’s the one thing the Mets have right, and you wanna design new road jerseys?
Mac: Guys, focus. We’ve got to nail this pitch. The Mets aren’t just gonna hand over their fanfest to a bunch of nobodies that came to baseball from other industries.
Dennis: (smirking) That’s where you’re wrong, Mac. The Mets always bring in people from other industries. The Mets are desperate. And desperation makes people… vulnerable.
Act 3: Mets Office – Day
The gang is sitting across from a tired-looking Mets executive. Dennis is leading the pitch.
Dennis: (confidently) Picture this: Amazin’ Day. An all day immersive fan experience. Sessions tailored to every demographic. Autograph signings, exclusive merch drops, mascot fights, and VIP packages.
Charlie: But mostly things we can monetize. Like, we’ll charge extra for the cold autograph lines.
Mets Executive (confused): Cold autograph lines?
Dennis: (calmly) Exclusivity. People pay more when they think they’re suffering for something special. You guys have some sort of podcast right? We’ll go on that and announce all this, they’ll eat it up.
Mets Executive (still skeptical) I don’t know…
Mac: (leaning in) We’ll also keep security tight. No weirdos sneaking in.
Dennis: (quickly) Ignore him. The point is, this event will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience that Mets fans will talk about for years. All we need is your go-ahead, and we’ll handle the rest.
Act 4: Paddy’s Pub – Planning Phase
The gang is scrambling to organize a “demo” of their fanfest idea to impress the Mets.
Mac: Okay, so we’ll need costumes for the mascot fight. Charlie, you’re Mr. Met. Dee, you’re whatever the Mets’ enemy is.
Dennis: You mean winning?
Dee: (offended) Why do I have to be the enemy?
Dennis: Dee, stop making this about you. Focus on the big picture.
Dee: Oooh, I have an idea. What if we make fan-themed t-shirts, and then we sell the t-shirts to a group of dedicated fans who all sit in one section…..
Dennis: Dee, SHUT UP! We need some ideas that won’t cost a lot, but ideas which we can throw a sponsor on top. Generic stuff—autograph sessions from whoever contractually owes the Mets an appearance, batting cages, behind-the-scenes tours—blah, blah, blah. We can let fans “host their own press conference.”
Mac: (laughs) What does that even mean? Host their own press conference? Like, pretend they’re the manager? “Uh, yeah, we’re just gonna try to get ‘em next game.”
Dennis: Exactly! Pathetic, but budget friendly.
Charlie: oh, oh, how about a “Steal Home Challenge.” Fans run in a straight line to a base. No intrigue. No stakes. The Mets probably have a base lying around we could borrow.
Dennis: Budget friendly. I like it. Add it to the list.
Dee: Ooooo, I got it. A mini-museum. Take a trip down Mets memory lane at the “Meet the Mets Memorabilia”
Dennis: That’s not bad. And budget friendly. Charlie, write that down and get a sponsor for it.
Charlie: I thought the Mets got rid of the museum and turned into a store?
Mac: (excited): Oh, what about….we present a design for a casino.
Dennis: A casino? What are you talking about? What does a casino have to do with fans of a baseball team?
Act 5 Interior: Citi Field – Amazin’ Day
Fans are cold and disappointed in the autograph lines, and are complaining that there isn’t really that much to do but pay for food and run a stolen base line.
Mets Executive: (furious) What the hell is going on here?! Fans are flooding my phone! They’re furious about the autograph sessions, and—God help me—Dee’s “improved” uniforms!
Dennis: (grinning smugly) It’s called innovation.
Mets Executive: Innovation? I just got an email that one of the “meet the players” booths had Frank charging $50 for selfies while pretending to be Keith Hernandez!
Dennis: (calmly) Genius in action.
Mets Executive: You’re banned from Citi Field forever.
Charlie: (shrugging) Eh, we’ve been banned from better places. Add it to the list.
