ROD ALLEN: I’m at my local Ace Hardware because they have the knowledge I need and the products to support it.
ACE MANAGER: (sighs) Hello again, Rod. What can we help you with now?
ROD ALLEN: My neighbor Jack’s lawn is, without question, the most beautiful on the block. Mine isn’t. What can I do to…
ACE MANAGER: Excuse me a moment, Rod. Isn’t this like the eighth time you’ve been here in the past week?
ROD ALLEN: That’s right!
ACE MANAGER: And weren’t you here about two hours ago asking me almost the exact same question?
ROD ALLEN: Easy, Big Fella. I just want a nice lawn.
ACE MANAGER: And we’re happy to help. Unfortunately, I just don’t have time to keep answering all of your questions like this. But I’ve hired a new guy that can assist you, if that’s okay.
ROD ALLEN: That idea sounds some kind of smooth.
ACE MANAGER: Right. He even has a baseball background. I think you may know him. Hey! New guy! Come help this customer out while I go check in the new stock.
GARY SHEFFIELD: Don’t you be bossin’ SHEFF! Sheff don’t need this!
ACE MANAGER: Really, Gary? Get any more clients other than Jason Grilli yet?
GARY SHEFFIELD: Okay. Sheff need this.
ACE MANAGER: Indeed. Gary, please help out Mr. Allen here. He’s one of our best customers. Thanks. (walks away giggling)
GARY SHEFFIELD: Sheff know you. Did Sheff play with you in New York? You Ruben Sierra, right?
ROD ALLEN: Hey, Gary! It’s me, Rod Allen! I see you!
GARY SHEFFIELD: Sheff see you, too, son. What your point? What you want?
ROD ALLEN: My neighbor Jack…
GARY SHEFFIELD: Sheff ain’t gonna jack yo neighbor. Sheff ain’t need money that bad.
ROD ALLEN: Stop it, Sheff. No. Jack’s my neighbor.
GARY SHEFFIELD: He need an agent?
ROD ALLEN: I’m not sure. But Jack has a filthy lawn, Gary.
GARY SHEFFIELD: Then tell that sumbitch to clean it up. Why you buggin’ Sheff?
ROD ALLEN: No. I mean it’s nice. I want to grill out with my padnuh, but my lawn isn’t as nice as Jack’s. I just wish it was.
GARY SHEFFIELD: My advice? Fuck Jack’s lawn. Do yo own thing. What kind of grill you got? Propane?
ROD ALLEN: Gas. Easy gas. Grillin’ ribeyes and steaks. With cheese.
GARY SHEFFIELD: Sick. Speaking of Grilli, Sheff be his agent. You got an agent, Rob?
ROD ALLEN: It’s Rod. And yes I do.
GARY SHEFFIELD: Oh. Well, fuck you then. Anything else Sheff can do for you today? Need some tools? Some paint? Light bulbs? Cocaine?
ROD ALLEN: No. But maybe you’re right. I should spend less time worrying about Jack’s lawn. You can flat out speak the truth, Gary. Thanks for the country strong advice.
GARY SHEFFIELD: If you say so. Now get outta here. Sheff’s supervisor gonna get mad if Sheff keep standin’ around talking to you.
ROD ALLEN: But he told you to help me.
GARY SHEFFIELD: Not him. He the store manager. But the assistant manager…that dude’s a dick. Aww, shit. Here he come now. Thinkin’ he someone special…
JEREMY BONDERMAN: HELLOS GARY. HELLOS DRINKING GAME.
ROD ALLEN: Hey! I see ya, Bondo! Mr. Snappy himself!
JEREMY BONDERMAN: NO. I’M MR. BONDERMAN. YOU MUST HAVE ME CONFUSE WITH ‘NOTHER ACE EMPLOYEE. IT HAPPEN. GARY, SOMEONE POOP ALL OVER BATHROOM FLOOR AGAIN. I THINK IT WAS ME. GO CLEAN IT.
GARY SHEFFIELD: Dammit! That three times today! Ain’t this some bullshit…I need me some clients…hate this bull…(walks away).
JEREMY BONDERMAN: OH WELLS. YOU NEED SOMETHING, DRINKING GAME?
ROD ALLEN: Well, you see, my neighbor Jack’s lawn is beautiful. How can mine look like his?
JEREMY BONDERMAN: ASK JACK.
ROD ALLEN: Now why didn’t I think of that! Thanks, Big Fella! You’re a genius!
JEREMY BONDERMAN: I KNOWS. HAVE A NICE DAY. TIME FOR LUNCH. BOLOGNA LUNCHABLES TODAY. GARY! WHERE MY LUNCHABLES?
GARY SHEFFIELD: Fuck you!