Chowdaheads - Sitting on Frog One: Bring out your dead

So here's the deal. Your Uncle Buck has two Red Sox tickets left for September 30th and would rather go to the dentist than the game. When the season started and UB saw two tickets against the Baltimore Orioles as part of his season ticket package, 6 rows off the field, UB figured maybe they'd be close to clinching the Wild Card or (shutter) the Division by then. Fast-forward to today and the Red Sox have a better starting 9 on the DL than on the field. Therefore UB is looking for anyone, A-N-Y-O-N-E to take these tickets off his hands...But while he continues the futile search for a schmuck UB can't help but compare this situation to Monty Python and the Holly Grail. In this scene the man trying to unload the not quite dead man into the "Bring out your dead" cart is UB, while the not quite dead man is the Red Sox:

The Dead Collector: Bring out yer dead.

[a man puts a body on the cart]

Uncle Buck: Here's one.

The Dead Collector: That'll be ninepence.

The Red Sox: I'm not dead.

The Dead Collector: What?

Uncle Buck: Nothing. There's your ninepence.

The Red Sox: I'm not dead.

The Dead Collector: 'Ere, he says he's not dead.

Uncle Buck: Yes he is.

The Red Sox: I'm not.

The Dead Collector: He isn't.

Uncle Buck: Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.

The Red Sox: I'm getting better.

Uncle Buck: No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment.

The Dead Collector: Well, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations.

The Red Sox: I don't want to go on the cart.

Uncle Buck: Oh, don't be such a baby.

The Dead Collector: I can't take him.

The Red Sox: I feel fine.

Uncle Buck: Oh, do me a favor.

The Dead Collector: I can't.

Uncle Buck: Well, can you hang around for a couple of minutes? He won't be long.

The Dead Collector: I promised I'd be at the Robinsons'. They've lost nine today.

Uncle Buck: Well, when's your next round?

The Dead Collector: Thursday.

The Red Sox: I think I'll go for a walk.

Uncle Buck: You're not fooling anyone, you know. Isn't there anything you could do?

The Red Sox: I feel happy. I feel happy. [the Dead Collector glances up and down the street furtively, then silences the Body with his a whack of his club]

Uncle Buck: Ah, thank you very much.

The Dead Collector: Not at all. See you on Thursday.

Uncle Buck: Right.