“Everywhere,” Grey said, the same way he starts every conversation with me. He had switched to coconut pearls in place of boba in his daily tea. His brain had become clearer with the addition of the Omega-3, and no longer did he believe Bud Black to be a rational and sensible manager. But his opinions on Midsommar? He’d been tweeting them at all hours of the night.

I entered his office. It was cleaner than usual. The Bartolo Bobblehead sat happily on his desk, sparkling and clean. Grey gestured for me to sit on his therapy couch, and I took a seat.

“Everywhere, we have a new staff member I’d like you to train,” Grey started, pulling a sip of coconut pearls from his morning tea. He rolled them in his mouth for a minute, as if waiting for another arrival. I heard a whirring sound, like a wind tunnel. I wondered if Donkey Teeth had been airing out Razzball Headquarters again after JKJ microwaved fish in the lunch room.

The whirring sound increased, and after a minute of watching Grey swish the coconut pearls in his mouth, a Roomba arrived at the office. On top of it, attached in electrical tape and dried hot glue, was a picture of me.

“Everywhere, meet the Blairbot,” Grey said. “Not only is he great at cleaning, he’ll be taking over the pitching rankings starting next week.” Grey picked up a handful of marbles and tossed them on the floor. The Blairbot raced forward, trying to vacuum the marbles, succeeding on some of them but knocking others around the room. One landed in front of Grey, and he picked it up. Grey chuckled to himself. “Jon Gray. Fitting.” He put the marble in his pocket. “Blairbot, write up Jon Gray!”

The Roomba continued whirring, turning circles while chasing marbles. Soon it became apparent: Grey was calling me “Blairbot.” I stood, prepared to promote a Rockies pitcher. I heard a beeping noise, and the smell of microwaved fish hit my nose. It was going to be a long day.