Meanwhile, in another part of the bar, Jeremy and Casey are getting food from some sort of buffet. Casey asks if he mentioned his Close-Up interview to Jeremy yet. "Several times," says Jeremy. "Well, bear with me because the audience has to hear it," says Casey. He explains that he's interviewing "Mr." Shane McArnold, who Jeremy says is a twit. "How about a lifetime .303 batting average, how about 348 home runs, how about back-to-back 30/30 seasons?" says Casey. I admit those are good numbers; unless I'm mistaken, only Tony Womack, Jeff Bagwell and the highly underrated Raul Mondesi had 30/30 seasons in 1999, but how sad is it that Casey offers a person's ability to swing a bit as proof of his intelligence? "How about the fact that he's a twit?" says Jeremy. Touché. "He happens to be a friend of mine," says Casey. "He also happens to be a twit," says Jeremy. Once again, Jeremy, well played. They are sitting down at a table, and Casey childishly tells Jeremy he's not speaking to him anymore and shifts his focus to Natalie, lucky her. She's too engrossed in the paper, though. She's reading a story about the Vatican saying hell isn't a place; instead, it's a state. Yeah! New Jersey! ["First the Kafelnikov thing, and now you insult my home state? You're on a roll today, Jobless Mahoney." -- Sars] Jeremy says the fact that there's no hell takes a load of his mind, I guess because he's such a bad-ass. Casey reads my mind and says, "I shouldn't be here with you people."