Post by lanceerickson on Mar 26, 2007 2:13:11 GMT -6
The scene opens up with Lance Erickson just finishing up a workout session with a couple of buddies in some high-class, country club gym the other Horsemen set up for him. Lance wipes the sweat off of his brow and massages his sore pecs. Lance walks into the locker room and peels off his sweaty tank top while the other gentlemen who were "Working Out" with Lance look down at their fresh and clean polo shirts and pull a dropped hair off of them. Lance shoots them a dirty look and hops into the shower, cleaning his extravagant body. While he's rinsing, he listens to the men he was working out with.
Johns: I say good chum, this establishment has certainly lowered it's standards, letting in riff-raff like that.
Chub: Absolutely, did you hear the noises he was making? It sounded like something was dying in there. This isn't a place for...and I shudder to say the word...working out...
Johns: Maybe we can get in touch with the...
Lance walks out of the shower, sqeezing the water out of his hair. He throws on a loose halter/tank-top that says "Damn I'm good" and looks at the idiots who belong to the club.
Lance Erickson: I gotta tell you. If you're going to talk shit about somebody, it's usually a good idea to keep your voice down. Or at least do it so they can't hear you. Especially when the person you're complaining about is more than capable of completely whipping your ass on a moment's notice. Actually, that's what Black needs to learn...
Johns: (Taken aback) Why you balmy bastard...
Lance Erickson: (Annoyed) It doesn't matter dude, I don't think I'll be coming here again. But let me tell you this, if you ever spot me again and decide to order a cocktail while you're doing so, I'll shove that weight bar so far up your ass it'll take 'till your morning ritual to get it back out. Have a nice day...(extra emphasis) GENTLEMEN.
Lance Erickson walks out through the gym, getting looks from all the smart dressed guys pretending to work out. Lance Erickson stops at the front desk where a hottie is sitting and stops to talk to her about his membership.
Lance Erickson: Yeah, just so you know, I don't think I'll ever be coming back, no need to file my membership papers. I'd rather you burn them or something.
Girl at the desk: May I ask why not sir?
Lance Erickson: Yeah, the people here are jackasses.
Girl: (Smiling) Don't tell anybody, but I agree with you. If you didn't think you'd fit in, why'd you come?
Lance Erickson: Well, I'm part of a sort of upper-class group. I like the guys, but I'm having a bit of trouble adapting. Anyway, one of them got me a try out here. He did a nice thing, so it's cool.
Girl: What group is this?
Lance Erickson: The Four Horsemen: Extreme Edition.
Girl: Are you a wrestler?
Lance Erickson: Bingo baby
Girl: I've probably seen a picture of you somewhere, but I've never watched wrestling. I've heard that wrestlers aren't worth my time.
Lance Erickson: Do I seem that way?
Girl: No, you seem like an alright guy, anyway, what's it like doing that kind of work.
Lance Erickson: I love it. I love seeing the fans, getting cheered by them, and all that. I do everything I can for them. What about you? How do you like this job?
Girl: Eh, it pays the bills. I don't love, I don't hate it. If you're coming to a place like this for a change, does that mean you're not doing very well?
Lance Erickson: No, just the opposite. I'm the Television Champion! The guy I'm facing this week...I'm not quite sure what to think of him.
Girl: Who is he?
Lance Erickson: He calls himself Black, the Master of Mean...
Girl: Master of Mean? Couldn't he think of something better?
Lance Erickson: Obviously not. And he also can't figure out that he's not mean.
Girl: What is he?
Lance Erickson: Well, there's a difference between mean and dick, which is what he is. Some kid, one of his fans, asks him to sign his basketball, and the dude goes and pops it after he signs it. A mean guy would've just said "no", but he made the kid happy before destroying his day. That's just not right.
Girl: Why would he do that to a kid?
Lance Erickson: I told you, the guy's a dick.
Girl: And this is the guy you're facing?
Lance Erickson: Yep, and my title's on the line. But I know what you're gonna say, I can't let him win. If I'm gonna lose the title, I'm going to lose it to somebody that deserves it, not this guy. He's got a ways to go before he's deserving of any title.
Girl: Yeah, I don't think a guy like that needs to be champion of anything.
Lance Erickson: I've got an obligation to myself and the fans. If I lose this match, I won't be able to face my teammates or my fans.
Girl: Are they that important to you?
Lance Erickson: Yeah, they're the reason I have a job. Anyway, I've got to go find a real gym with some real guys who know how to work up a sweat.
Girl: Well, that would be a nice break from the norm around here.
Lance walks obliviously toward the door of the country club and exits. He gives the pimply faced valet his ticket and the kid goes to fetch his Yugo. Lance waits there for a few minutes until the kid finally shows up with the Yugo which stalls out when the kid stops the car. Lance hands the kid a hundred dollar bill for a tip and hops into his car. While he's destroying the starter motor, the girl from the desk comes running out, and she leans into the window and hands Lance a business card from the club with her number on it.
Girl: My name's Holly. After your match, give me a call, we'll go out to dinner. Is this your car?
Lance: (Laughing) Alright, I think I can swing that with my schedule of...nothing. Yeah, this is my car, I also have a BMW, but I decided to bring this one here to see how superficial these people really are. I guess you aren't one of those people.
Holly walks back into the club as Lance continues trying to start his car. He looks at the kid for help, but the kid, being too scrawny, raises his arms. Lance grumbles and gets out of the car after putting it into neutral. Lance starts pushing the car with all his might. After it gets up to speed, Lance runs and hops into the driver's seat, popping the clutch and getting the car started.
Johns: I say good chum, this establishment has certainly lowered it's standards, letting in riff-raff like that.
Chub: Absolutely, did you hear the noises he was making? It sounded like something was dying in there. This isn't a place for...and I shudder to say the word...working out...
Johns: Maybe we can get in touch with the...
Lance walks out of the shower, sqeezing the water out of his hair. He throws on a loose halter/tank-top that says "Damn I'm good" and looks at the idiots who belong to the club.
Lance Erickson: I gotta tell you. If you're going to talk shit about somebody, it's usually a good idea to keep your voice down. Or at least do it so they can't hear you. Especially when the person you're complaining about is more than capable of completely whipping your ass on a moment's notice. Actually, that's what Black needs to learn...
Johns: (Taken aback) Why you balmy bastard...
Lance Erickson: (Annoyed) It doesn't matter dude, I don't think I'll be coming here again. But let me tell you this, if you ever spot me again and decide to order a cocktail while you're doing so, I'll shove that weight bar so far up your ass it'll take 'till your morning ritual to get it back out. Have a nice day...(extra emphasis) GENTLEMEN.
Lance Erickson walks out through the gym, getting looks from all the smart dressed guys pretending to work out. Lance Erickson stops at the front desk where a hottie is sitting and stops to talk to her about his membership.
Lance Erickson: Yeah, just so you know, I don't think I'll ever be coming back, no need to file my membership papers. I'd rather you burn them or something.
Girl at the desk: May I ask why not sir?
Lance Erickson: Yeah, the people here are jackasses.
Girl: (Smiling) Don't tell anybody, but I agree with you. If you didn't think you'd fit in, why'd you come?
Lance Erickson: Well, I'm part of a sort of upper-class group. I like the guys, but I'm having a bit of trouble adapting. Anyway, one of them got me a try out here. He did a nice thing, so it's cool.
Girl: What group is this?
Lance Erickson: The Four Horsemen: Extreme Edition.
Girl: Are you a wrestler?
Lance Erickson: Bingo baby
Girl: I've probably seen a picture of you somewhere, but I've never watched wrestling. I've heard that wrestlers aren't worth my time.
Lance Erickson: Do I seem that way?
Girl: No, you seem like an alright guy, anyway, what's it like doing that kind of work.
Lance Erickson: I love it. I love seeing the fans, getting cheered by them, and all that. I do everything I can for them. What about you? How do you like this job?
Girl: Eh, it pays the bills. I don't love, I don't hate it. If you're coming to a place like this for a change, does that mean you're not doing very well?
Lance Erickson: No, just the opposite. I'm the Television Champion! The guy I'm facing this week...I'm not quite sure what to think of him.
Girl: Who is he?
Lance Erickson: He calls himself Black, the Master of Mean...
Girl: Master of Mean? Couldn't he think of something better?
Lance Erickson: Obviously not. And he also can't figure out that he's not mean.
Girl: What is he?
Lance Erickson: Well, there's a difference between mean and dick, which is what he is. Some kid, one of his fans, asks him to sign his basketball, and the dude goes and pops it after he signs it. A mean guy would've just said "no", but he made the kid happy before destroying his day. That's just not right.
Girl: Why would he do that to a kid?
Lance Erickson: I told you, the guy's a dick.
Girl: And this is the guy you're facing?
Lance Erickson: Yep, and my title's on the line. But I know what you're gonna say, I can't let him win. If I'm gonna lose the title, I'm going to lose it to somebody that deserves it, not this guy. He's got a ways to go before he's deserving of any title.
Girl: Yeah, I don't think a guy like that needs to be champion of anything.
Lance Erickson: I've got an obligation to myself and the fans. If I lose this match, I won't be able to face my teammates or my fans.
Girl: Are they that important to you?
Lance Erickson: Yeah, they're the reason I have a job. Anyway, I've got to go find a real gym with some real guys who know how to work up a sweat.
Girl: Well, that would be a nice break from the norm around here.
Lance walks obliviously toward the door of the country club and exits. He gives the pimply faced valet his ticket and the kid goes to fetch his Yugo. Lance waits there for a few minutes until the kid finally shows up with the Yugo which stalls out when the kid stops the car. Lance hands the kid a hundred dollar bill for a tip and hops into his car. While he's destroying the starter motor, the girl from the desk comes running out, and she leans into the window and hands Lance a business card from the club with her number on it.
Girl: My name's Holly. After your match, give me a call, we'll go out to dinner. Is this your car?
Lance: (Laughing) Alright, I think I can swing that with my schedule of...nothing. Yeah, this is my car, I also have a BMW, but I decided to bring this one here to see how superficial these people really are. I guess you aren't one of those people.
Holly walks back into the club as Lance continues trying to start his car. He looks at the kid for help, but the kid, being too scrawny, raises his arms. Lance grumbles and gets out of the car after putting it into neutral. Lance starts pushing the car with all his might. After it gets up to speed, Lance runs and hops into the driver's seat, popping the clutch and getting the car started.