TRANSCRIPT DATE: Aug. 3, 2 p.m., Yankee Stadium, Bronx
LOCATION: Undisclosed, for reasons of national security
M: Trade, be you near?
STEINBRENNER: Trade Buhner? I should trade Jay Buhner?
M: No, you idiot: "Trade, be you near." That's the identification code.
STEINBRENNER: Oh, yeah! Sorry. "Trade Be You Near!" But you know, that's a great idea. That Buhner kid can't hit a lick. We could spin him off and-
M: We have no time, Special Secret Agent Steinbrenner. You have a critical assignment, and the fate of the nation could hinge in the balance.
STEINBRENNER: Wow! That's great! Wait... does it mean wearing a bug in my turtleneck again, because those things scratch. If it wasn't to hide the hickeys I get from the supervillain concubines, I wouldn't even wear-
M: Enough. We've learned of a Russian assassin, assigned to kill President Jimmy (NAME WITHHELD FOR NATIONAL SECURITY). You must tell no one of this.
STEINBRENNER: Absolutely! But you know who's always got good ideas on this stuff? Dick Young, the columnist. If I told him to keep it a secret-
M: Don't call Dick Young.
STEINBRENNER: OK, but you got me interested. Can I wear a piece?
M: A gun?
STEINBRENNER: No. Hairpiece. Later today, I'm meeting with Dick Young-
M: Don't call Dick Young.
STEINBRENNER: OK, OK... but what's the deal? Who's trying to kill President Jimmy (NAME WITHHELD FOR NATIONAL SECURITY REASONS)? And speak louder, into the turtleneck, so Reggie can hear it too. Haha. That's a joke.
M: I have a bad feeling about this.
STEINBRENNER: You have a bad feeling? Good grief, I'm the one trying to get the goods on Dave Winfield.
M: Listen, Special Secret Agent Steinbrenner, we're moving to Plan B. You are relieved of duty.
STEINBRENNER: Fine. Thanks for the tip on Buhner.
M: Is he gone? OK, send in the next agent. Hello Special Secret Agent... what are those?
MEL HALL: Aww, don't worry, they're my pet cougars. Well, me and Whitson are ready. Who do you want killed?
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