JERRY is on the couch flipping channels. ELAINE sits nearby eating takeout. There’s a strange scratching sound coming from the hallway.

JERRY: You hear that?

ELAINE: Sounds like someone trying to smuggle a squirrel through airport security.

The door BURSTS open. KRAMER slides in carrying a pet carrier covered with a blanket. NEWMAN follows, sweaty and nervous.

JERRY: Alright. What’s going on here?

NEWMAN: Nothing’s going on.

The carrier lets out a loud SCREECH.

ELAINE: That doesn’t sound like “nothing.”

KRAMER: Ohhh, that’s just little General Tso.

JERRY: You named a pet after mall food?

KRAMER: He’s fierce, Jerry. Fierce!

JERRY slowly stands.

JERRY: Kramer… are you involved in cockfighting?

Silence.

NEWMAN: You say it like it’s a bad thing.

ELAINE: OH MY GOD!

KRAMER: Ohhh, Elaine, come on! You’ve never seen it! The pageantry! The excitement! The feathers flyin’! The little shoes!

JERRY: Little shoes?!

KRAMER: Tiny little spur shoes, Jerry! These birds are athletes!

ELAINE: This is psychotic.

KRAMER: No, no, no, see, people misunderstand the whole culture. It’s community! It’s tradition! It’s strategy! You should SEE the scouting reports these guys put together.

JERRY: Scouting reports?!

KRAMER: Yeah, there’s this one guy Daveed.  He tracks wing span, aggression index, peck velocity…

The door opens. STEVE enters wearing a Mets hoodie and carrying coffee.

STEVE: Hey. Anybody see—

He notices the carrier.

STEVE: What’s that?

KRAMER:  Cockfighting.

STEVE freezes.

STEVE: …What?

KRAMER: Ohhhh yeah. Big underground scene. Very exclusive.

NEWMAN: You gotta know a guy.

KRAMER leans in dramatically.

KRAMER: Sugar Diaz is there.

STEVE nearly drops the coffee.

STEVE: Sugar Diaz?!

JERRY: The closer?!

ELAINE: Wait, your relief pitcher is into cockfighting?

KRAMER: Not just into it. He’s respected.

NEWMAN: One bird’s named “Fastball.”

STEVE paces.

STEVE: Oh this is terrible. TERRIBLE! I can’t have a cockfighter on the team!

JERRY: Why not? These guys need something to do in October to keep them busy.

STEVE: You don’t understand! If I don’t re-sign him now everybody’s gonna say I’m cheap!

KRAMER: Steve… Steve… this is an opportunity.

STEVE: Opportunity?!

KRAMER: You lean INTO it.

JERRY: No.

KRAMER: Ohhhh yeah. “Citi Field Cock Night.”

ELAINE: NO!

KRAMER: You bring in little rooster mascots. It’s like the Grimace but…birds.

ELAINE (outraged): O.M.G!

JERRY (under his breath): They tried that already.

KRAMER: Feather giveaways! Tiny spurs for the kids!

JERRY: Don’t encourage him!

KRAMER: You get Diaz throwin’ out the first bird—

INT. CITI FIELD OFFICE – LATER

DAVID sits across from STEVE reviewing spreadsheets.

DAVID: Actually… our analytics suggest rooster-related branding increases engagement among males twenty-five to forty-four.

STEVE: You see?!

DAVID: Also, concession sales spike around handheld meat products.

STEVE: We’re onto something here.

LAUREN FROM MARKETING rushes in horrified.

LAUREN: social media says we’ve trademarked “Queens Cock.”

STEVE: WE DID WHAT?!

CHAD THE SOCIAL MEDIA INTERN pokes his head in proudly.

CHAD: Queens Cock!  It was my idea!  It’s already trending!  The T-Shirt Guy says he has an idea for a design.

STEVE: We are NOT doing “Queens Cock.” Absolutely not.

LAUREN: Well the  hashtag IS testing extremely well with males eighteen to thirty-four.

STEVE: NO!

STEVE turns to DAVID.

STEVE: David. Give me something else for the bullpen. Something classy.

DAVID calmly flips through analytics printouts.

DAVID: Well… fan surveys indicate people respond positively to themes of intimidation, chaos, and industrial machinery. Our proposed rebrand is “The Queens Construction Zone.”

STEVE: Ohhhh, I like that.  They could wear constriction hats in the dugout.

DAVID: We also stop calling walks “walks.”

STEVE: What do you call them?

DAVID: Permit delays.

STEVE: Permit delays…

DAVID: And blown saves become “structural failures.”

STEVE: That’s good.  OK let’s do it. No more Diaz.  Now, talk to me about first base…

Jerry is on the couch. Elaine flips through a magazine. Kramer is leaning out the window for no reason. Newman sits at the table eating something crunchy and mysterious.

ELAINE: Gas is five dollars again.

JERRY: Gas doesn’t even have numbers anymore. It’s just… vibes. You pull in, you brace yourself emotionally.

KRAMER: I like it high.

ELAINE: You like high gas prices?

KRAMER: Keeps the riffraff off the road.

JERRY: You are the riffraff.

(The door BURSTS open. STEVE storms in, Mets cap, out of breath but glowing.)

STEVE: He’s coming.

(Beat.)

JERRY: Who’s coming?

STEVE: Thor.

(Kramer gasps. Newman drops a cracker.)

KRAMER: Thor?!

NEWMAN: The arm…

ELAINE: The hair…

JERRY: The ERA…

STEVE: Show some respect! He’s coming over.

ELAINE: Here? Why?

STEVE: He’s consulting.

JERRY: On what?

STEVE: The ballroom.

ELAINE: What ballroom?

STEVE:  The new Citi Field ballroom.

JERRY: Why is there a ballroom?

STEVE: Because people won’t drive to the stadium anymore! Gas prices! You have to give them something extra!

ELAINE: Baseball is the something extra.

JERRY:  Did you consider not charging $50 for parking?

STEVE: This is premium. Chandeliers. Marble. Dancing.

KRAMER: I’m in.

STEVE: Thor gets it.

JERRY: Of course Thor gets it.

KNOCK KNOCK.

STEVE: That’s him. Everybody—be cool.

Kramer straightens up like he’s meeting royalty. Newman wipes his hands on Jerry’s couch.

Jerry opens the door.

Thor stands there, full Thor energy… and a bright red MEGA hat.

THOR: Hey.

JERRY: …Hey.

(THOR walks in casually.)

THOR: Nice place.

STEVE: Thor! Great to see you. Love the—uh—hat.

THOR: Says what it needs to say.

JERRY: It’s saying a lot.

STEVE: So I was telling them about the ballroom.

THOR: Ballroom’s a great idea.

ELAINE: You’re pro-ballroom?

THOR: Absolutely. Bring back tradition.

JERRY: Baseball tradition… or ballroom tradition?

THOR: Both.

KRAMER: Yes! Fusion!

NEWMAN: A merging of cultures.

ELAINE: What cultures?!

STEVE: Think about it  People drive out, they watch a game, then they dance.

JERRY: With gas at five bucks, they’re dancing all the way home too.

THOR: People need more than just the game.

KRAMER: Oh, you could get more of the dance team.! They  could teach dance classes between innings!

ELAINE: Between innings?!

JERRY: A slow waltz during a pitching change…

STEVE: You mock, but this is vision.

ELAINE: This is a wedding venue.

JERRY: Yeah, you’re registering for bullpen help.

THOR: You guys don’t get it.

JERRY: Oh, we get it. We just don’t want it.

(Beat.)

JERRY: Well… at least, Steve, you’re rich. You can pay for it.

STEVE: I’m not paying for it.

(Everyone turns.)

ELAINE: You’re not paying for your own ballroom?

STEVE: Why would I pay for it?

KRAMER: That’s a good question.

THOR:  We’ve got private donations.

JERRY: Private donations?

THOR: And Mexico.

(Beat.)

ELAINE: …Mexico?

JERRY: Mexico is paying for the ballroom?

THOR: That’s right.

STEVE: (nodding, like this makes perfect sense) Smart funding.

ELAINE: How is Mexico paying for a ballroom in Queens?

THOR: We put tariffs on WBC tickets.

JERRY: The World Baseball Classic?!

KRAMER: Ohhh, I like this.

ELAINE: You’re taxing baseball fans… to build a ballroom?

JERRY: You can’t just say “Mexico’s paying for it!”

THOR: They are.

JERRY: How do you know they are?!

THOR: They will.

JERRY: And what happens when Mexico doesn’t pay?

STEVE: Then we pivot.

JERRY: To what?!

THOR: You guys are too negative.

JERRY: We’re not negative—we’re grounded in reality!

STEVE: Look, the ballroom is happening.

ELAINE: With or without Mexico?

STEVE: Preferably with.

JERRY: And if the gas prices keep going up, no one’s even getting there!

STEVE: Enough. We’re going to Citi Field.

JERRY: To do what?

STEVE: To feel the ballroom.

THOR: You gotta feel it.

KRAMER: I’m feeling it!

NEWMAN: I’m swaying.

ELAINE: I’m staying.

(THOR adjusts his hat, confident.)

THOR: You either get it or you don’t.

JERRY: I don’t.

(STEVE, THOR, KRAMER, and NEWMAN head out.)

Door SLAMS.

(Beat.)

ELAINE: You think any of that made sense?

JERRY: It’s the Mets.

INT. JERRY’S APARTMENT – DAY

ELAINE is staring at a sad, shriveled plant.

ELAINE: What happened here?

JERRY (casual): Oh yeah… poor thing. I forgot to water it before I went on the road last week.

ELAINE: Forgot to water it? : It’s a plant! That’s the one thing it needs!

JERRY: It had a good run.

Sound effect: BUZZER

JERRY: Come on up.

ELAINE: Why is Steve coming over?

JERRY: He’s bringing a “friend.”

ELAINE: Oh no.

JERRY: Yeah.

DOOR OPENS.

STEVE enters in a Mets cap, overly upbeat. Behind him is CARLOS. smiling like everything in life is going perfectly.

STEVE: There he is!

JERRY: There he is…

STEVE: This is Carlos.

CARLOS (warm, optimistic): Great place. Love what you’ve got going here.

JERRY: You just got here.

CARLOS: I can feel it. Good things.

Carlos spots the plant and lights up.

CARLOS: Oh, look at this! You’ve got some life in here!

Steve grabs the dead plant and holds it up proudly.

STEVE: See? Green little shoots.

CARLOS leans in, nodding.

CARLOS: Yeah… yeah, I like this. This plant’s gonna be okay.

JERRY: No it’s not. It’s dead.

CARLOS (still smiling): I don’t see dead. I see potential.

JERRY: You’re looking at a corpse.

STEVE: How could it be dead? It’s only April. It’s got the whole summer to bloom!

JERRY: It’s not blooming! It’s done blooming!

CARLOS: You gotta give it time.

JERRY: Time for what? A funeral?

Carlos gently takes the plant from Steve… and immediately knocks over a glass of water on the table.

WATER spills everywhere—right onto Steve’s pants.

STEVE (not reacting at all): It’s fine.

JERRY: It’s not fine!

CARLOS: No problem. We’ll clean it up.

Carlos grabs a napkin—knocks over a bowl of snacks. Chips scatter everywhere.

STEVE (still upbeat): Happens! Things happen!

JERRY: Why are you okay with this?!

STEVE: It’s part of the process!

CARLOS (nodding): Exactly. You stay positive.

Carlos goes to set the plant down—misses the table completely. The pot drops. Dirt spills all over Steve’s shoes.

Beat.

STEVE (looking down, then back up, smiling): Little mess.

CARLOS: We’ll regroup.

JERRY: Regroup?!

CARLOS: You don’t focus on the spill, you focus on the next move.

JERRY: The next move is a mop!

Carlos pats Steve on the shoulder—knocking over a lamp. It wobbles… falls… crashes.

Long silence.

STEVE (clapping once, encouraging): Alright! Energy’s still good!

CARLOS (calm, confident): I like where we’re at.

JERRY: Where are you at?!

CARLOS: Right where we need to be.

JERRY: This is where you need to be?!

STEVE: We’re close.

JERRY: Close to what?!

CARLOS: Turning it around.

ELAINE: I’m leaving before he “develops” anything else.

She exits.

Carlos smiles, unfazed.

CARLOS: Strong personality.

KNOCK—KRAMER bursts in.

KRAMER: Hey Jer, you got any—

He stops. Takes in the chaos. Dirt, water, broken lamp, Steve soaked.

KRAMER: …milk.

CARLOS (cheerful): Hey! Great timing.

KRAMER: I don’t think it is.

Kramer slowly backs toward the door.

KRAMER: I’ll get it somewhere else.

He exits immediately. Carlos is back looking at the plant.

CARLOS: It’s getting better. You just have to believe.

JERRY: I don’t believe in the dead plant!

Steve nods, completely convinced.

STEVE: It’s gonna bloom.

JERRY: You’re both insane.

CARLOS (checking his watch, upbeat): Alright, we should get going.

STEVE perks up immediately.

STEVE: Right! Big day.

JERRY: Big day?

STEVE: Big team meeting.

CARLOS: We’re going over projections.

JERRY: Projections?

STEVE: David’s got the numbers.

CARLOS (encouraging): It’s all trending the right way.

JERRY: Nothing s trending the right way!

STEVE (gesturing around): You’re too focused on the now.

STEVE heads to the door, energized.

STEVE: This is where it starts.

JERRY: This is where what starts?!

CARLOS (smiling): The turnaround.

STEVE: C’mon, Carlos. We don’t want to be late.

CARLOS (to Jerry, sincere): It’s gonna bloom.

Carlos exits.

STEVE follows, then pops his head back in.

STEVE: Keep an eye on those shoots!

He disappears.

Door closes.

Silence.

JERRY looks at the dead plant.

Beat.

He picks it up. A chunk of dirt falls off.