Chicago at Twins. Weekend Round-Up.
Friday. Twins 7, Bitch Sox 3.
Saturday. Bitch Sox 4, Twins 1.
Sunday. Twins 7, Bitch Sox 3.

Oh, like you didn't know this was coming…

The weekend began normally enough. The surging Twins met the Chicago Bitch Sox in an ultimate battle between good and evil. Twins fans eyed the first game with some trepidation, for their starting pitcher was a simple man from the country who spent most of his evenings playing pick-up games with his brothers Ralph and Hurl and various local goats. But they didn't have worried—those goats were mean sons of bitches and prepared the young Boof well for his battle against the forces of darkness. Boof held up admirably, buoyed by the heroics of a ragtag ensemble of misfits with hearts of gold, including the Mighty Canadian, the Fearless Midget, the Sweet Cheeks. And afterwards, the Twins and their fans were ebullient. The underdog had overcome, and Misters Radke (who is so hot) and Santana (who is en fuego) would be pitching the next two nights. What was there to worry about?

But in the Bitch Sox clubhouse, Ozzie Guillen was planning a nefarious scheme. "I have overused my pitching staff and they are not up this ragtag bunch of misfits with hearts of gold," he said, rubbing his hands together evilly. "All of my plans will go awry. I cannot rely on pitching or defense or boom boom sticks, so it is time to institute…. Plan B!"

Jermaine Dye's eyes grew wide. "Plan B? Are you sure? Innocent people will die!"

"Who gives a @#$%?" asked Guillen. And then he got on the bullpen phone and whispered, "Send 'em in."

The Twins took the field on Saturday, chattering happily, confident that they would arrive at their destination safely, and the game began. Perhaps if things had unfolded differently, the disaster could have been stopped. Perhaps if the Dome crowd hadn't been cheering so loudly, someone would have heard Guillen's diabolical laughter. Perhaps if someone had bothered to check the contents of the large crates that had appeared on the baseball field. But, alas, no one did.

"Does anyone hear a ticking noise?" asked Little Nicky Punto, looking around and missing a ball.

"Is there a hissing?" asked Jason Bartlett, checking his six and missing a throw.

And just like that, the boxes came open.

It was horrible, horrible. Snakes came pouring onto the field, biting players in unmentionable places. They were everywhere, coming out of the turf, slithering out from under the bases. One dropped from the roof just as three Twins were trying to field a pop-up to right field causing many Twins fans to wonder, "Isn’t there anyone on board who knows how to fly this damn plane?"

Yes, things looked bad for our boys—until today Johan K. Santana strode to the mound, set his jaw, and declared, "I am so sick of these motherf—ing snakes in this motherf—ing Dome!"

It looks like a $#@!%&*@?! snake, what do you think it looks like?

"Come on, gang!" said Mike Redmond. "We're not going to let these stupid snakes beat us. Half of them are CGI, anyway!"

"Yeah!" said Michael Cuddyer.

"Yeah!" said Torii Hunter.

"Let's go kick some snake ass!" said Joe Nathan.

"Do snakes have asses?" whispered Little Nicky Punto.

So, Santana and the Twins set to ridding the Dome of those motherf---ing snakes. Santana toyed with them, letting a snake reach base here and there and then plunking them.

"God, he can kill them with four pitches!" marveled Punto, right before getting swallowed by a boa.

Jason Tyner hit one directly at Paul Konerko, who screamed like a little girl as he got bit and threw the thing toward second base. Torii Hunter hit one over the left field seats, where it swallowed a Dome Dog and promptly died.

This is the way of things—sometimes the badguys will sick a crateload of snakes on you, and sometimes some innocent people will go down in the process, and in those moments you need a hero, and a comely unflappable stewardess, and someone who can fly a plane, and a band of misfit passengers with hustle and heart who take their bats and beat the living crap out of those snakes. And the Twins had all of those things this weekend, and came out triumphant.

After the game, as the snake corpses littered the field, the Twins eyed them in stunned silence, awed by everything that had passed.

"I can't believe Ozzie did that," Pat Neshek said finally.

"He tried to kill us with these snakes," said Jason Tyner.

"You know," said Mike Redmond after a pause, "that is really the dumbest-ass thing I've ever heard in my whole life."