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Ah yes, summer must be near. The flowers are in bloom, the sun cradles itself above the horizon just a moment longer each night, and the Flyers continue their run to the Eastern Conference Finals are out on the town at an MLS game in Chester. It’s a beautiful thing, the turn of the seasons.

Here we find Carts and Co. taking in the Union-Galaxy match at PPL Park on Wednesday. Surely the gang was disappointed that David Beckham didn’t journey east for the tilt. I mean, look at that attire – Ed Hardy is reporting supply chain problems with 50/50 blended-cotton – that wasn’t for the fine folks of Chester. I see the planning going down Ocean’s Eleven style in an abandoned warehouse somewhere:

Carts: Did you see Becks at the Royal Wedding? We gotta look our best. Whaddya got?

Leino: Jason Mraz hat. 

Carts: Oh that’s so Timberlake of you. Richie?

Richie: I just had surgery this morning, I’ll be wearing a sling. They’ll never suspect a thing. Poet!

Carts: Excellent, one-armed bandit routine. You lead.

Leino: Should I bring my sniper rifle?

Carts: What? No. Who brought this guy? We’re there to impress Becks.

Richie: … Oh… I thought we were killing Panaccio.

Carts: Fuckin… What about you, Claude?

Giroux: If you think I’m wearing anything other than a backwards New Era cap, you’re out of your fucking mind.

Car Bomb: I’ll just look lost.

Carts: Perfect. I have my trusty white slim-fit. My friend here has Ray-Bans and a metro sweater. 

Random Friend: Seriously, I don't care what happens. I don't care if we kill someone.

 

Either that, or Carts had been sexting with the female usher in section 106. Yeah, probably that. Onward. 

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Here we see the gang sauntering into PPL Park. The kid in the Cliff Lee jersey has just been struck with the wafting scent of Carter’s newly-purchased True Religion jeans. The locals are suspicious. Soon after, Carter Team Six finds itself being funneled through with the masses. The mission has officially hit its first snag.

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Inside, there’s no sign of Becks.

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Carts: Where is heee?

Random Friend: …I told you not to let Richie lead the operation…

Richie: Yo, fuck off, Sasquatch.

Giroux (thinking to himself): Who is the slut sitting with Sons of Ben? Wonder if Danny will let me bring her home.

Leino: – takes a deep breath, adjusts glasses, and stares blankly into the distance – Becks doesn’t do Chester.

Carts: Fuck.

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Pics via anonymous tipster and Horizon Facbeook Page