As you’re walking to the Sandlot with your baseball bat, Phillips comes over riding on his bike, and it’s just him. You decide to ignore him by walking a round his bike, but he stops you, riding up and blocking your path again.

“Hey pretty lady, what are you doing going for the sandlot with those doofus’?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, and leaning on the steering of his bike by his arms.