Now, if you'll allow me to present my argument for who deserves the spot, based on
Mr. Rizzo and Mr. Rigglemen,
If you do happen to decide upon Garrett Mock as your fifth starter, I will RIP YOUR FINGERS OFF AND USE THEM TO GOUGE MY OWN EYES OUT IN ORDER TO NOT BE SUBJECTED TO THAT HORRIBLENESS.
That wasn't so hard, was it? But... just in case you need more convincing, allow me to present Mr. Scott Olsen himself*, here to explain why he should get the gig.
"Sup, bitches? Look, I ain't gonna beat around the bush on this shit. G-Mock couldn't hit this. From 1.5 feet away. Pointed in the right direction.
Whatever. I mean, shit, I'm Scott -motherfucking- Olsen. I kick so much butt, I kick ass
And, besides... how the hell you gonna say no to such a bad ass, tough, manly man like me? What's that? You doubt my machismo? Shiiiiiiit. You do know that I'm the baddest ass bad ass that's ever lived, right? No? Well then... peep this, jabronies.
You gonna deny the ladies from seeing that every fifth day? That's right. Didn't think so. I'm out!"
*Um, not actually Scott Olsen himself, but c'mon, you know that's what he's saying. Out loud to no one in particular as he struts around his hotel room in Viera with a bottle of Zima in his hand, and no shirt on. Actually, do they still even make Zima? Trick question! While they might not make it for you and me, they sure as shit would still make it for Scott Olsen!