New York at Twins. Yankees 10, Twins 1.

It was a dejected clubhouse before Tuesday's game and not just because of the utter destruction of Sidney Ponson's cosmology. Saturday's loss hadn't really counted to most of the players given it's hard to play baseball when your testicles have frozen off, but after their second loss of the season they were left to wonder when their bats, and perhaps their dingleberries, might emerge.

With two players headed for the DL and no dingleberries, the Twins were feeling o'ermatched against the mighty Yankees, led by the androgynous but wily Captain Jeter and his horde of bloodthirsty man-beasts. As game time grew closer, they could not help but feel that they were doomed.

So, when Lew Ford manifested himself in the Twins clubhouse from his rehab stint in Florida using a +5 Amulet of Astral Projection, he found himself greeted by a funereal group. "Why so glum, chums?" exclaimed Ford. "Turn those frowns upside down!"

"We're o'ermatched!" cried Jason Bartlett.

"It's hopeless," sighed Little Nicky Punto.

"It's suicide!" squealed Jason Bartlett.

"Come on you guys," said Ford. "Didn't you guys see 300? The Spartans were like, totally o'ermatched. There were a jillion Persians and just 300 Spartans and using pluck and gumption and sticktoittiveness and lots of spears the Spartans held their own. It was the greatest movie ever."

"Yeah," said Pat Neshek. "I saw it, too. Those Persians had, like, such a high payroll. They were jerks."

"You know," said Rondell White, "The real story is even more interesting. There weren't just 300 Spartans, but 700 Thespians as well, and—"

"Heh," said Matt Guerrier, elbowing Juan Rincon. "Thespians."

"So, what I'm saying you guys," said Ford, "is there's no obstacle that can't be overcome. You guys are totally the Spartans! You can do this!"

"Yeah!" exclaimed Pat Neshek.

"Si!" exclaimed Dennys Sampler Reyes.

"Do we have to wear Speedos and capes?" asked Juan Rincon.

"Yes," said Ford. "You got to."

An hour later, the Twins were clad appropriately and making their way to the field full of vim and vigor. The night's starting pitcher, Boof Bonser, watched his teammates appreciatively.

"That's so inspiring," said Bonser to Neshek. "I mean, those 300 Spartans winning in a battle against a million Persians!"

"Oh," said Neshek. "No, they didn't win."

"They didn't?"

"No. They died. Every last one of them."

"Oh," said Bonser. "Shit."

"Play ball!" shouted the ump.

Well, the game played out a lot like the movie, except bloodier, and afterwards the Twins shuffled back into the clubhouse, even more dejected than before.

"Well that sucked," mumbled Michael Cuddyer.

"And no thespians," sighed Guerrier.

"Still," said Punto, "I'd sure like my dingleberries back."

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