Ukraine vs. Lapland

Plotnik is watching a day game from Milwaukee right now, with the Plotzers absolutely destroying the Brewers 1-0.  They're MANGLING them 1-0. They're chewing 'em up and spitting 'em out 1-0. Watching the Plotzers is like watching Ukraine vs. Lapland in soccer.

Then, when the camera flashes on the crowd, Plottie realizes it's not Ukraine, it's Sweden. All these Norskies with their chubby, milky white Aryan faces? Fat, blonde kids eating hot dogs and smiling with goofy gloppy buck-toothed grins? They don't look like anyone on the baseball field. Where are the tats and nose rings and hoodies and murder weapons? Where is the facial hair? You call this baseball? What is this country coming to?

Maybe it's all the bratwurst. Maybe the kids are bonged out of their heads or maybe beer is only 75 cents and the minimum drinking age is eight. 

Plottie worked in Milwaukee years ago and it was a fun city, before the Plotzers came to town and depressed everybody. He remembers touring the Miller factory and the Blatz factory, where they give you LARGE samples of all their brews in the middle and at the end of the tour.

Ah, ha! That's it! These kids! Fresh off the Blatz Bus before the game. That'll make your blue eyes red.