When, in the course of human events, it becomes clear that management is not willing to take a miserable piece of shit like Dick Weeks out of the lineup, or to remove him from the organization entirely, it falls to said organization's fans to take matters into their own hands.
So, here's my pledge to you, fucknut:
I am going to hunt you.
And I mean this literally, Dick: you and I are going to recreate "The Most Dangerous Game" in the Menomonee Valley, and I'm going to be General Zaroff.
And, yes, Dick, I know that General Zaroff didn't succeed in hunting the other guy, but this isn't about killing you. No, this is just about keeping you away from the team for the rest of the year. King Ned isn't willing to take you out of the lineup, despite the fact that you are a sub-par -- if not downright terrible -- baseball player in every facet of the game. And Melvin won't cut you, even though we've got a much better option (Durham) sitting on the bench. So, Dick, I have to take matters into my own hands, and the only option left is hunting you with an antique elephant gun.