Married with Children (1986–1997): Season 9, Episode 11 - A Man for No Seasons - full transcript
When Major League Baseball goes on a strike, NO MA'AM organizes their own league sponsored by nude bars.
[♪♪♪]
[CHATTER]
Hear ye. Hear ye.
I now call to order this
meeting of NO MA'AM:
National Organization of Men
Against Amazonian Masterhood.
Brother Jefferson will read
the minutes of our last meeting.
[CLEARS THROAT]
8:01, 8:02...
8:03.
[LAUGHING]
The same damn joke every week.
Hey, every time Bob
Rooney plays the armpit tuba,
you all laugh.
Well, that's funny.
Let it rip, Bob.
[FARTING]
[ALL LAUGHING]
Anyway,
last meeting we bitched
about the baseball strike,
drank beer, peed,
drank more beer, peed again,
then hurried home
to drink beer and pee.
Thank you, brother Jefferson.
Now on to new business.
As you know, a new member,
our very own Griff,
is being initiated.
So, Sergeant at Arms Ike,
would you bring the plebe in?
[ALL LAUGHING]
Rookie.
MAN: New guy.
Now, Griff,
you've survived the
other initiation rites.
The purchasing of panty
shields in broad daylight.
The attending a Julio concert
in wig and matching ensemble.
Are you ready for the
third and final challenge?
Hey, I've got an ex-wife
and I work in a shoe store.
I feel no pain.
Then Sergeant at Arms Ike,
please escort
Griff to the bath...
Excuse me. I mean the chamber
of the damned, please.
Hey, Al, are you sure we
should put Griff through this?
Yeah, the human mind is
only made of flesh and bone.
AL: Hey.
NO MA'AM isn't like
California. You can't just walk in.
He's right. Absolutely right.
Our standards have to be tough.
If a man can't stand
a two-hour videotape
of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,
he's not strong enough
to be in NO MA'AM.
[CHATTER]
[GRIFF SCREAMS]
Now on to new business.
Men, we have got to do something
about this baseball strike.
MAN: Amen. It's
affecting the way we live.
Yeah. I had to take my
wife to the beauty parlor.
I had to take my
wife to the opera.
I had to take my wife.
GRIFF [YELLING]: Make
the Indians kill her, please.
Make the Indians kill her.
Now, if the players
don't want to play,
I don't give a damn,
we don't need 'em.
We can play with ourselves.
So the meeting is dismissed?
Ike, go in there with Griff.
So we're gonna play baseball?
We are. MAN: Where?
How about Wrigley Field?
Yeah. Ha, ha. The
Cubs ain't using it.
They weren't using
it before the strike.
[ALL LAUGHING]
IKE: Oh, my God.
They're bathing at the river.
[BOTH SOBBING]
So, what if they don't
let us use Wrigley?
It's private property.
Oh, come on. Who's gonna stop
a bunch of great American guys
from playing the great
American pastime?
Well, I mean,
except for the police.
Well, at least it was great to
hear the crack of the bat again.
That was a nightstick.
But you know, it was
good to get outside
and play a little baseball.
We pitched well, we hit well.
And man, Jefferson, I didn't
realize you could run so fast.
Well, you run faster
with a police dog
in your back pocket.
Well, well, well.
Hey, Officer Dan. What
are you doing here?
Same thing you do
at the shoe store, Al.
Waiting for quitting
time? Exactly.
And it's ribs night.
[CHATTER]
So hear you were busted
for climbing the
vines at Wrigley Field.
We miss baseball.
I miss good sex.
You don't see me
climbing my wife.
Anyhow, I came to tell
you you've been sprung.
What? By who?
PEG: I am so sick
of coming down here.
The wives.
There they are.
The roids of summer.
No conjugal visits.
Jefferson D'Arcy.
Now, I expect Al to be involved
in some receding
hair-brained scheme like this,
but what are you in for?
I, uh, I...
I was, uh, I was
on my way to a...
Job interview. A
job interview when...
When suddenly I
was... Kidnapped.
Kid... Kidnapped by a gang of...
Chickens. Chickens.
But real chickens, not you.
You know, Al, I've thought about
letting you spend
the night in jail.
Well, thank you. You
know, it's ribs night.
Not tonight. We have
tickets for the theatre.
That's right. Tonight it's
Ace Ventura: The Musical,
starring Nell Carter,
Joyce DeWitt,
and that guy that
played Horshack.
He's Ace.
I confess to killing
a bunch of people,
and, uh... And, uh...
And, uh...
And eating them.
Then you've
already had your ribs.
Breaking into Wrigley Field.
How else could you embarrass me?
Well, I could pull up the shade
when you're taking a shower.
Daddy.
I am so proud of you.
Now I can tell all my
friends my dad's an ex-con
instead of a shoe salesman.
Ha, ha.
You see that, Peg?
She's proud of me.
Yes.
She's also proud of
her shiny, shiny shoes.
They're shiny. Look.
Ah, come on, Peg.
So we had a little fun.
It's not like everybody
knows about this.
Hey, Dad, look.
You made the headline
on the Sports page. Look.
"Loons invade Wrigley Field."
What?
Damn press. Look, they
misspelled my name.
"Al Burdy."
Al Burdy?
Al Burdy.
I like it.
Peggy Burdy.
I really like it.
[DOORBELL RINGS]
Hi, I'm Joe Morgan.
Are you Al Burdy? Uh, no, no.
I believe the Burdy
you're looking for
is the, uh, dodo over there.
Peg, that's Joe Morgan.
Kids, that's...
That's Joe Morgan.
Mike Piazza, that's Joe...
Joe Morgan, that's Mike Piazza.
Well, what are you
guys doing here?
Just trying to make
an honest buck.
And with just about
every sport on strike
you guys are the
biggest news story going.
Mind if I do a little interview?
Y... No problem.
He tries to sell shoes.
He tries to satisfy his wife.
He does neither.
Back to you, Joe.
And who is this lovely lady?
That's my daughter, Kelly.
The redhead here
is her mother, Rodan.
Oh, sure, go ahead,
Joe. Interview away.
Turn on the camera. How
does this thing work again?
Turn it on when I'm talking,
and off when you think
you have something to say.
Got it.
We're here with the leader
of the Wrigley
Field break-in boys,
Al Burdy. That's Bundy.
Burdy, let me ask you this. Why?
You know, I've asked him
that myself over the years.
He says he's either too tired...
Pay no attention to the
big red machine, Joe.
Why did we play baseball?
For the love of the game.
Just like every
American husband,
it's our right seven
months out of the year
to sit on the couch
with a bowl of pretzels,
and a frosty cold one
and watch baseball.
Since that right
has been violated,
and the owners and
players have not been able
to resolve their differences,
we just simply decided
to play the game ourselves.
Unfortunately, our audience
might have missed that
since the camera's
suddenly shooting Baywatch.
Anyway, Al, it seems
that you're not alone.
Are you aware that a
challenge has been issued
by another group of out-of-shape
fat guys from St. Louis?
What? Wait, you mean
another team of geezers
wants to play my dad's geezers?
Well, that couldn't
possibly happen.
We have tickets for the...
Silencio, Consuela.
Well, Al, do you accept
the challenge from St. Louis?
In a word, Joe,
abso-freaking-lutely.
There you have it, sports fans.
This year's Major League
Baseball season may be at an end
but the game continues on.
I was just trying my
auto-focus thingy.
[CLEARS THROAT]
Baseball is America's game.
It belongs to the people
and the people is us.
So I, Al Burdy, say,
let there be baseball.
Let there be life.
You know, I can't believe Dad
and the rest of the
Bad News Butt Cracks
are trying to form
their own league...
Trying to form their own league
and tour across the country.
Well, they did
beat Street Louis.
That's St. Louis, honey.
I... I guess this league of his
is gonna be a success after all.
Bud, this is your father
we're talking about.
When has he ever done
anything successful?
Family.
Guess what you're looking at.
The sultan of sweat?
That's right, Peg.
Charge the mound.
But they're lining up for us.
This thing could really be big.
We've even got a sponsor.
Who would be stupid
enough to sponsor you guys?
Only the wealthiest
man in Chicago.
Michael Jordan?
Wealthier.
And my guy can
hit the curve ball.
Family, allow me to introduce
to you the owner of our team
the Chicago Cleavage,
and the owner of the best
damn nudie bar in town,
Akbar Johnson.
Greetings all.
Bud?
Your team is sponsored
by a nudie bar?
Yeah. Not just our team, Peg,
but every team in the league.
The Boston Bazooms,
the New Jersey Nay-Nays,
the Buffalo Bodacious Ta-Tas,
and the San Francisco Guys.
And you know what
the best part is, Peg?
Your uniform has a trap door?
If only the couch had one, Peg.
All our games will
be away games.
I'll be gone six weeks. I
made up the schedule myself.
Isn't that great, Peg?
You mean, we won't be
together for six weeks?
Yes.
It's like the second
honeymoon I've always wanted.
And, kids, I haven't
forgotten you.
I have a special surprise.
We have to go
with you? Hell, no.
No, but if this thing works out,
Daddy will be gone
for many, many years.
And there's something very
important I need you to do.
What?
[GRUNTING]
Something about this
makes me want to tell
old high school
football stories.
Well, you're lucky. I have a
sudden urge to read Big 'Uns.
I don't care what anybody says.
This has gotta be the
worst job in the world.
No, I've got the
worst job in the world.
Kelly, it's Bret Saberhagen.
Well, then why does his nametag
say Bobby Bonilla?
He called in sick.
Hey, Saberhagen, is that
your pizza truck in the red zone?
Come on, Tartabull, if I don't
get this here in 30 minutes,
they'll take it out of my check.
At least you get a check.
I get paid in mall dollars.
Danny, can I bribe
you with a pizza?
Let me check my
security guard handbook.
Yup.
Hey, wait a minute.
That's our pizza.
Tell it to the commissioner.
[JACK NORWORTH'S "TAKE ME
OUT TO THE BALL GAME" PLAYING]
CROWD [CHANTING]:
Birdie. Birdie. Birdie.
Birdie. Birdie. Birdie.
That's Bundy.
Birdie. Birdie. Birdie. Birdie.
Can I have a break now? MAN: No.
Can I have a break
now? A-a-absolutely.
Thanks. And where the hell's
Saberhagen with my lasagna?
How does this thing work again?
That's it. Next time,
I'm hiring a hockey guy.
A fat woman came into
the shoe store today.
And Bud still
looked up her dress.
Yeah, like I could help it.
Her dress, it was...
It was everywhere.
Hi, Mom. You look
nice. How come?
Oh. Well, today is the end
of your father's road trip,
and hopefully the beginning
of his seven-minute home stand.
So, Mrs. Birdie, this must
be a big moment for you.
I bet you miss the big guy.
Oh, yes.
I also miss my husband.
You know, the point is,
that when a man has
been gone this long,
any man, it's just
good to have him back.
Mom, that's not Dad, that's...
That's Dave Winfield.
BOTH: Mind your business.
Oh, the places I've
been, the people I've seen.
But when you
get right down to it,
there's no place like home.
Come to Papa.
Look out.
Oh, Dave,
I missed you so much.
We've gotta do
something about this strike.
Welcome home, Al.
You know, it's refreshing
to see someone
who plays just for
the love of the game.
Well, it isn't just me, Joe.
I mean, kids who play sandlot
ball, do they play for money?
College kids
without scholarships,
do they play for money?
Anything you do for love, Joe,
money should never
be a consideration.
So the fact that Akbar
and the other owners
sold the TV rights for
your championship game
for $3 million
doesn't bother you?
Not in the slightest, Joe.
And I've said this
many times before.
I've always played the game
for... Three million dollars?
Does Akbar not take the risk?
Does Birdie not
bring in the fans?
The owners are going broke.
Show us your books. No.
We're the players. You need us.
We are the owners. You need us.
Players. Players.
Owners. Owners.
Players. Players.
Owners. Owners.
Players.
JOE MORGAN: Well, it
was made official today.
The owners and players of
the National Nudie Bar League
failed to reach agreement
on player compensation
for the upcoming
championship series,
prompting yet
another in a string
of unfortunate
season-ending walkouts.
So to recap,
baseball is on strike.
Hockey is on strike.
And Saturday Night
Live just won't end.
That's three strikes and
we're out. I'm Joe Morgan.
We now join
Filipino slap fighting
already in progress.
Hear ye,
hear ye, hear ye.
I now call to order this meeting
of the National Organization
of Men Against
Amazonian Masterhood.
Brother Jefferson will read
the minutes of the last meeting.
JEFFERSON: 8:01, 8:02, MAN: No.
[CHATTER] 8:03, 8:04, 8...
[PUNCHING, CRASHING]
[♪♪♪]
[CHATTER]
Hear ye. Hear ye.
I now call to order this
meeting of NO MA'AM:
National Organization of Men
Against Amazonian Masterhood.
Brother Jefferson will read
the minutes of our last meeting.
[CLEARS THROAT]
8:01, 8:02...
8:03.
[LAUGHING]
The same damn joke every week.
Hey, every time Bob
Rooney plays the armpit tuba,
you all laugh.
Well, that's funny.
Let it rip, Bob.
[FARTING]
[ALL LAUGHING]
Anyway,
last meeting we bitched
about the baseball strike,
drank beer, peed,
drank more beer, peed again,
then hurried home
to drink beer and pee.
Thank you, brother Jefferson.
Now on to new business.
As you know, a new member,
our very own Griff,
is being initiated.
So, Sergeant at Arms Ike,
would you bring the plebe in?
[ALL LAUGHING]
Rookie.
MAN: New guy.
Now, Griff,
you've survived the
other initiation rites.
The purchasing of panty
shields in broad daylight.
The attending a Julio concert
in wig and matching ensemble.
Are you ready for the
third and final challenge?
Hey, I've got an ex-wife
and I work in a shoe store.
I feel no pain.
Then Sergeant at Arms Ike,
please escort
Griff to the bath...
Excuse me. I mean the chamber
of the damned, please.
Hey, Al, are you sure we
should put Griff through this?
Yeah, the human mind is
only made of flesh and bone.
AL: Hey.
NO MA'AM isn't like
California. You can't just walk in.
He's right. Absolutely right.
Our standards have to be tough.
If a man can't stand
a two-hour videotape
of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,
he's not strong enough
to be in NO MA'AM.
[CHATTER]
[GRIFF SCREAMS]
Now on to new business.
Men, we have got to do something
about this baseball strike.
MAN: Amen. It's
affecting the way we live.
Yeah. I had to take my
wife to the beauty parlor.
I had to take my
wife to the opera.
I had to take my wife.
GRIFF [YELLING]: Make
the Indians kill her, please.
Make the Indians kill her.
Now, if the players
don't want to play,
I don't give a damn,
we don't need 'em.
We can play with ourselves.
So the meeting is dismissed?
Ike, go in there with Griff.
So we're gonna play baseball?
We are. MAN: Where?
How about Wrigley Field?
Yeah. Ha, ha. The
Cubs ain't using it.
They weren't using
it before the strike.
[ALL LAUGHING]
IKE: Oh, my God.
They're bathing at the river.
[BOTH SOBBING]
So, what if they don't
let us use Wrigley?
It's private property.
Oh, come on. Who's gonna stop
a bunch of great American guys
from playing the great
American pastime?
Well, I mean,
except for the police.
Well, at least it was great to
hear the crack of the bat again.
That was a nightstick.
But you know, it was
good to get outside
and play a little baseball.
We pitched well, we hit well.
And man, Jefferson, I didn't
realize you could run so fast.
Well, you run faster
with a police dog
in your back pocket.
Well, well, well.
Hey, Officer Dan. What
are you doing here?
Same thing you do
at the shoe store, Al.
Waiting for quitting
time? Exactly.
And it's ribs night.
[CHATTER]
So hear you were busted
for climbing the
vines at Wrigley Field.
We miss baseball.
I miss good sex.
You don't see me
climbing my wife.
Anyhow, I came to tell
you you've been sprung.
What? By who?
PEG: I am so sick
of coming down here.
The wives.
There they are.
The roids of summer.
No conjugal visits.
Jefferson D'Arcy.
Now, I expect Al to be involved
in some receding
hair-brained scheme like this,
but what are you in for?
I, uh, I...
I was, uh, I was
on my way to a...
Job interview. A
job interview when...
When suddenly I
was... Kidnapped.
Kid... Kidnapped by a gang of...
Chickens. Chickens.
But real chickens, not you.
You know, Al, I've thought about
letting you spend
the night in jail.
Well, thank you. You
know, it's ribs night.
Not tonight. We have
tickets for the theatre.
That's right. Tonight it's
Ace Ventura: The Musical,
starring Nell Carter,
Joyce DeWitt,
and that guy that
played Horshack.
He's Ace.
I confess to killing
a bunch of people,
and, uh... And, uh...
And, uh...
And eating them.
Then you've
already had your ribs.
Breaking into Wrigley Field.
How else could you embarrass me?
Well, I could pull up the shade
when you're taking a shower.
Daddy.
I am so proud of you.
Now I can tell all my
friends my dad's an ex-con
instead of a shoe salesman.
Ha, ha.
You see that, Peg?
She's proud of me.
Yes.
She's also proud of
her shiny, shiny shoes.
They're shiny. Look.
Ah, come on, Peg.
So we had a little fun.
It's not like everybody
knows about this.
Hey, Dad, look.
You made the headline
on the Sports page. Look.
"Loons invade Wrigley Field."
What?
Damn press. Look, they
misspelled my name.
"Al Burdy."
Al Burdy?
Al Burdy.
I like it.
Peggy Burdy.
I really like it.
[DOORBELL RINGS]
Hi, I'm Joe Morgan.
Are you Al Burdy? Uh, no, no.
I believe the Burdy
you're looking for
is the, uh, dodo over there.
Peg, that's Joe Morgan.
Kids, that's...
That's Joe Morgan.
Mike Piazza, that's Joe...
Joe Morgan, that's Mike Piazza.
Well, what are you
guys doing here?
Just trying to make
an honest buck.
And with just about
every sport on strike
you guys are the
biggest news story going.
Mind if I do a little interview?
Y... No problem.
He tries to sell shoes.
He tries to satisfy his wife.
He does neither.
Back to you, Joe.
And who is this lovely lady?
That's my daughter, Kelly.
The redhead here
is her mother, Rodan.
Oh, sure, go ahead,
Joe. Interview away.
Turn on the camera. How
does this thing work again?
Turn it on when I'm talking,
and off when you think
you have something to say.
Got it.
We're here with the leader
of the Wrigley
Field break-in boys,
Al Burdy. That's Bundy.
Burdy, let me ask you this. Why?
You know, I've asked him
that myself over the years.
He says he's either too tired...
Pay no attention to the
big red machine, Joe.
Why did we play baseball?
For the love of the game.
Just like every
American husband,
it's our right seven
months out of the year
to sit on the couch
with a bowl of pretzels,
and a frosty cold one
and watch baseball.
Since that right
has been violated,
and the owners and
players have not been able
to resolve their differences,
we just simply decided
to play the game ourselves.
Unfortunately, our audience
might have missed that
since the camera's
suddenly shooting Baywatch.
Anyway, Al, it seems
that you're not alone.
Are you aware that a
challenge has been issued
by another group of out-of-shape
fat guys from St. Louis?
What? Wait, you mean
another team of geezers
wants to play my dad's geezers?
Well, that couldn't
possibly happen.
We have tickets for the...
Silencio, Consuela.
Well, Al, do you accept
the challenge from St. Louis?
In a word, Joe,
abso-freaking-lutely.
There you have it, sports fans.
This year's Major League
Baseball season may be at an end
but the game continues on.
I was just trying my
auto-focus thingy.
[CLEARS THROAT]
Baseball is America's game.
It belongs to the people
and the people is us.
So I, Al Burdy, say,
let there be baseball.
Let there be life.
You know, I can't believe Dad
and the rest of the
Bad News Butt Cracks
are trying to form
their own league...
Trying to form their own league
and tour across the country.
Well, they did
beat Street Louis.
That's St. Louis, honey.
I... I guess this league of his
is gonna be a success after all.
Bud, this is your father
we're talking about.
When has he ever done
anything successful?
Family.
Guess what you're looking at.
The sultan of sweat?
That's right, Peg.
Charge the mound.
But they're lining up for us.
This thing could really be big.
We've even got a sponsor.
Who would be stupid
enough to sponsor you guys?
Only the wealthiest
man in Chicago.
Michael Jordan?
Wealthier.
And my guy can
hit the curve ball.
Family, allow me to introduce
to you the owner of our team
the Chicago Cleavage,
and the owner of the best
damn nudie bar in town,
Akbar Johnson.
Greetings all.
Bud?
Your team is sponsored
by a nudie bar?
Yeah. Not just our team, Peg,
but every team in the league.
The Boston Bazooms,
the New Jersey Nay-Nays,
the Buffalo Bodacious Ta-Tas,
and the San Francisco Guys.
And you know what
the best part is, Peg?
Your uniform has a trap door?
If only the couch had one, Peg.
All our games will
be away games.
I'll be gone six weeks. I
made up the schedule myself.
Isn't that great, Peg?
You mean, we won't be
together for six weeks?
Yes.
It's like the second
honeymoon I've always wanted.
And, kids, I haven't
forgotten you.
I have a special surprise.
We have to go
with you? Hell, no.
No, but if this thing works out,
Daddy will be gone
for many, many years.
And there's something very
important I need you to do.
What?
[GRUNTING]
Something about this
makes me want to tell
old high school
football stories.
Well, you're lucky. I have a
sudden urge to read Big 'Uns.
I don't care what anybody says.
This has gotta be the
worst job in the world.
No, I've got the
worst job in the world.
Kelly, it's Bret Saberhagen.
Well, then why does his nametag
say Bobby Bonilla?
He called in sick.
Hey, Saberhagen, is that
your pizza truck in the red zone?
Come on, Tartabull, if I don't
get this here in 30 minutes,
they'll take it out of my check.
At least you get a check.
I get paid in mall dollars.
Danny, can I bribe
you with a pizza?
Let me check my
security guard handbook.
Yup.
Hey, wait a minute.
That's our pizza.
Tell it to the commissioner.
[JACK NORWORTH'S "TAKE ME
OUT TO THE BALL GAME" PLAYING]
CROWD [CHANTING]:
Birdie. Birdie. Birdie.
Birdie. Birdie. Birdie.
That's Bundy.
Birdie. Birdie. Birdie. Birdie.
Can I have a break now? MAN: No.
Can I have a break
now? A-a-absolutely.
Thanks. And where the hell's
Saberhagen with my lasagna?
How does this thing work again?
That's it. Next time,
I'm hiring a hockey guy.
A fat woman came into
the shoe store today.
And Bud still
looked up her dress.
Yeah, like I could help it.
Her dress, it was...
It was everywhere.
Hi, Mom. You look
nice. How come?
Oh. Well, today is the end
of your father's road trip,
and hopefully the beginning
of his seven-minute home stand.
So, Mrs. Birdie, this must
be a big moment for you.
I bet you miss the big guy.
Oh, yes.
I also miss my husband.
You know, the point is,
that when a man has
been gone this long,
any man, it's just
good to have him back.
Mom, that's not Dad, that's...
That's Dave Winfield.
BOTH: Mind your business.
Oh, the places I've
been, the people I've seen.
But when you
get right down to it,
there's no place like home.
Come to Papa.
Look out.
Oh, Dave,
I missed you so much.
We've gotta do
something about this strike.
Welcome home, Al.
You know, it's refreshing
to see someone
who plays just for
the love of the game.
Well, it isn't just me, Joe.
I mean, kids who play sandlot
ball, do they play for money?
College kids
without scholarships,
do they play for money?
Anything you do for love, Joe,
money should never
be a consideration.
So the fact that Akbar
and the other owners
sold the TV rights for
your championship game
for $3 million
doesn't bother you?
Not in the slightest, Joe.
And I've said this
many times before.
I've always played the game
for... Three million dollars?
Does Akbar not take the risk?
Does Birdie not
bring in the fans?
The owners are going broke.
Show us your books. No.
We're the players. You need us.
We are the owners. You need us.
Players. Players.
Owners. Owners.
Players. Players.
Owners. Owners.
Players.
JOE MORGAN: Well, it
was made official today.
The owners and players of
the National Nudie Bar League
failed to reach agreement
on player compensation
for the upcoming
championship series,
prompting yet
another in a string
of unfortunate
season-ending walkouts.
So to recap,
baseball is on strike.
Hockey is on strike.
And Saturday Night
Live just won't end.
That's three strikes and
we're out. I'm Joe Morgan.
We now join
Filipino slap fighting
already in progress.
Hear ye,
hear ye, hear ye.
I now call to order this meeting
of the National Organization
of Men Against
Amazonian Masterhood.
Brother Jefferson will read
the minutes of the last meeting.
JEFFERSON: 8:01, 8:02, MAN: No.
[CHATTER] 8:03, 8:04, 8...
[PUNCHING, CRASHING]
[♪♪♪]