Morris falls flat on his face with his first pitch to Noreen in over a year. Venting his frustration, he shovels snow like a banshee in front of the opera house. He pauses long enough to pull a block of Verona’s exotic soap from the pocket of his damp overcoat. As he takes a deep and satisfying whiff of the peanut butter and garlic essence, he gets rejuvenated, and becomes like a racehorse chomping at the bit. He’s got to pitch a fit, and nothing is going to hold him back. Dripping snow, he hustles back inside and dials up Noreen in Chi-town, ready for Round Two. Will this pitch be the one to send him back to Burbank? Or does Noreen have something sinister up her slick, Chicago sleeve?