After more than a scooch of pickins as slim as virginia cigarettes, this night saw a return of numbers to the padre cadre. With eight men out, Shoeless Joe would have been proud. However, the into the future from the Vendetta patio gave us pause. Crowded hipsters pouring out from neo-post-hip-retro-modern williams st lofts, suffocating the once sparse, youth-blocking the pioneers from the table. To Monsters we go. Great ride and good shuffle. Chicken shitcans quit before its over, but agree to exhibition cutthroat to end the night. Spli and gome by schmidnight. Slim pickins no more.