The Finder

Holy Moly.

When you asked your place or mine,

I definitely made the right decision.

Holy Moly?

I'm on my best behavior.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Did you know that a U.S. Marshal

makes less than 50 grand a year annually?

You being a baseball pitcher, you're making...

More than that.

You really think you can impress me

with your fancy car, fancy house, fancy looks?

I don't know. Depends on what you mean by Holy Moly.

One second.

What you doing, calling for backup?

Who is this and how did you get this number?

Walter, I am officially invoking paragraph "c"

of our friends with benefits pact,

to which either party must suspend said pact

upon initiation of sexual relations with a third party.

Paragraph "c."

Someone broke into my house.

Stay here.

What? No. I'm the guy.

Son of a bitch got my stuff.

He's still here.

U.S. Marshal. Stop or I'll shoot.

Why didn't you shoot him?

Hard to explain a bullet in the back

of a fleeing unarmed man.

Suspect was last seen

leaving the rear entrance.

Thanks, Mr. Haywood. Big fan.

Thanks, detectives.

Think they'll find the guy?

I wouldn't hold my breath.

Damn it.

Did you have something very valuable in there?

- No, it's just... - Sentimental?

Yeah, a world series ring, a bunch of trophies,

the ball from my first no hitter.

Yeah.

You wouldn't happen to know any private detectives, maybe?

If you really need something found,

I know the guy.

You don't sound 100% on that.

He's... a little strange.

"World championship ring, Dick Howser trophy,

"one signed baseball, framed rookie baseball card,

"one glove, one full team uniform,

cleats", yadda yadda. "Gym bag, necklace."

Is this everything?

That I noticed, yeah.

You're not telling me something.

He's not telling me something.

What's he talking about?

I warned you.

Look, if you could find my stuff,

I'd pay you whatever you ask.

Leo takes care of that.

You know, back in the day,

I was quite the accomplished pitcher myself.

Little league.

They wrote a story about me in the paper.

Of course, I was no Frank Haywood,

but who is?

I am.

Have you seen his fastball?

I was hoping to, but we got interrupted by a robber.

So you insist that this list includes everything

that was taken?

Yes.

You're lying.

When you said that you were hoping to see his fastball,

did you mean that in a suggestive manner?

Walter, you have to start checking your messages.

Why?

Did you invoke paragraph "c" to this guy?

Yeah.

What's paragraph "c"?

Don't worry about it.

It's not important.

Will you help or not?

Hmm. Not.

He's keeping something from me.

What's paragraph "c"?

Walter and I enjoy a highly evolved

friends with benefits arrangement.

If one of us becomes serious about another person,

then we invoke paragraph "c."

You freaked out?

About him or the fact that you're serious about me?

I'll go talk to him.

Did you say no because of paragraph "c"?

I said no because Frank is a lying liar face.

That's the technical term.

What are you talking about?

Got no time for people who can't even be honest

about what they're looking for.

I have projects of my own, you know.

How can you be so sure Frank's lying?

Item number 13.

"One red and blue gym bag with white zipper

containing socks, underwear, personal effects."

And number 14.

"Trophy."

Who describes a gym bag down to the zipper,

yet doesn't describe the Dick Howser trophy?

What's a Dick Howser trophy?

It's the Heisman trophy of baseball.

It's a very big deal.

Look, point is,

there's something much more important to him in that bag,

but he doesn't want to admit it.

It's got to be drugs.

Gold bullion for hookers.

Frank's probably a coked-up sex fiend

trying to start world war III.

I detect a faint note of sarcasm.

Just do it for me.

Personal favor.

I'll do it.

For you.

But Frank is lying, and when I found out what he's lying about,

you're not gonna be happy.

It's a no-brainer.

There's nothing more anti-American

than the designated hitter.

Al-Qaeda is more anti-American than anything.

This country was founding on a celebration

of our individual freedoms.

The designated hitter puts the team's collective success

over that of the individual.

You can't bat? Oh, don't worry,

we'll just have somebody else do that part of your job for you

so we can all win together.

There's another name for that, Leo, communism.

Is it true that Frankie Haywood was here?

He's hot. Where did he sit?

Green chair.

You can't get anymore anti-American

than actually trying to destroy America.

Look at me. I'm sitting where Frankie Haywood sat.

Al-Qaeda's doomed to failure. They're hiding in caves.

Designated hitters walk amongst us as heroes.

It's subversive.

Let's go get Haywood's stuff.

I'm coming with you guys.

Shotgun. Absolutely not.

I can help.

She may come in handy

if we need to steal something.

Do you hear what you're saying?

Do you promise to steal only from thieves?

Yes.

There you go.

No, it's too dangerous. You're staying here.

It's for your own protection.

So what, you just want me to hang out here

and work behind the bar?

You aren't allowed behind the bar.

What is that?

It's an honor jar. You got to be kidding me.

No, it's great. People get their own drinks,

put cash in the jar.

Pour and pay.

A jar?

You trust a jar more than me?

It's for your own good.

Think of it as an opportunity

to prove that you're a team player.

Professional sports is the modern-day equivalent

to Roman circuses,

created to distract the populous

from more important matters.

All professional sports?

Yeah. Except for baseball, football,

tennis, soccer, NASCAR, and hockey.

So golf?

Golf is not a sport.

Neither is origami.

Be careful! That's worth $800.

It's authentic.

It's not authentic.

That's a page from Michael Jordan's workout journal

written in his own hand.

Do you know a pitcher named Frank Haywood?

Are you kidding me? He's 16 and 0

against the spread this season.

Guy's got one of the lowest fips in the league.

Fips?

Fielding independent pitching.

And don't get me started

on his stupidly high strand rate.

A bunch of his collectables got stolen last night.

I don't deal in stolen merchandise.

I'm a changed man, Walter.

You owe me 800 bucks.

Michael Jordan was right-handed.

Whoever wrote this is a lefty pretending to be right-handed.