Post by lanceerickson on Feb 18, 2007 2:31:42 GMT -6
The scene opens with Lance Erickson in a local gym, plastered to a bench press by a massive amount of weight. His spotter screams out "TWO MORE!" as Lance lets out a primal scream and pushes the weight up twice more and sets the bar noisily back on the holder. He sits up quickly with one more scream and then wipes his face off with a towel. The "Legend of Zelda" theme floats, muffled, out of his gym bag. Lance turns around and pulls his phone out of his bag. He takes a second to listen to the song while checking the number. After he's satisfied.
Lance Erickson: Yello...(listens for a minute)...uh huh, okay.
Lance closes the phone with a flourish and calls over to the gym manager who is lounging at the front desk reading a newspaper and attempting a crossword. He looks over as Lance points at the lone TV hanging on the wall. The manager grunts and goes back to the newspaper. Lance hops up onto one of the machines and changes the channel. He sits back down as Macros' interview with Greg Kilgreen is being televised. Lance and everybody else plop down on various benches and bench-type apparati to watch. Long minutes of Riley chatting it up go by and finally it finishes. Everybody there looks at each other. They turn to face Lance, but he has magically disappeared. A flushing noise comes out of the locker room and Lance comes walking out fastening his gym shorts back around his glorious waist.
Lance: (pausing, noticing the incredulous stares)...What?
Johnny Mac (spotter): You didn't...stay for the whole thing?
Lance: I got bored. This mouthpiece who doesn't know when to shut up gives a lot of gas. I had to go take a dump because that was more interesting than listening to him run his mouth. I honestly can't respect Micros when he doesn't even know how to speak for himself. And even then, if I actually decided to suffer through one of these long-winded diatribes, I would also have to deal with the complete lack of creativity in his insults. Steroid Happy? I mean seriously. Hasn't that one been done to death in baseball?
Gym Rat #1: Oh? What would you have said?
Lance Erickson: I...don't know. (Jovial Tone) But if I were a guy who has more supplements than Centrum Silver in him, I wouldn't make my loudmouth manager spout some BS because I'm jealous of the all natural fantastic-osity of my opponent.
Lance sits down on the bench press and drapes his towel over his shoulders. Grabbing his water bottle, Lance squirts down his head and then takes a swig. He then shakes some of the sweathingyer from his hair while groaning.
Gym Rat #2: Somebody sounds a little bit bitter.
Lance Erickson: How about disappointed? Micro Machines there thinks he's el super captain of some roman army, but don't captains have to be vocal? Unless he takes Riley with him for his 'battles' I can't see him winning more than a nice casket for his loser's consolation prize. I actually have more respect for Big Ci. He hasn't said a damn thing, but at least he has to dignity to not send someone else while he takes a nice and soothing ice bath trying to look tough. I can't listen to everybody tout this loser anymore. I'm turning this indigestion producing drek off.
Lance Erickson hops back onto the weight machine to try and reach the machine. While he's reaching for the channel button a news reporter comes on the screen and the words "Lance Erickson" and "Gambling addiction" float out over the gym. Lance Erickson startles and slips and falls of the machine and onto his back. Jumping back up to a chorus of laughter, Lance stares dumbfounded at the television.
Lance Erickson: (stuttering) G...G...Gambling...COCKFIGHTING?!! That's...interesting...
Johnny Mac: (laughing) Nice one. Do you have a problem?
Lance Erickson: I've placed one bet in my life...What I'm wondering is, who dreamed up this bile? I don't think it was Macros...Riley says more than enough for the two of them. It could have been Big Ci, but he seems like a stand up kind of guy who...just happens to be one of my opponents. Was it someone else in the fed? Someone else altogether?
Lance sits down, racking his brain while all the guys in the gym have a laugh at his expense. Even Teddy, the gym manager, peeled the paper off of his eyes to poke a bit of good fun at Lance.
Lance Erickson: Screw it. JOHNNY! Think you can stop laughing long enough to spot another set?
Johnny Mac walks over wiping tears out of his eyes with a big grin on his face. He helps Lance safely get the bar down and Lance starts ripping out another set and continuing his workout.
*fade out*
Lance Erickson: Yello...(listens for a minute)...uh huh, okay.
Lance closes the phone with a flourish and calls over to the gym manager who is lounging at the front desk reading a newspaper and attempting a crossword. He looks over as Lance points at the lone TV hanging on the wall. The manager grunts and goes back to the newspaper. Lance hops up onto one of the machines and changes the channel. He sits back down as Macros' interview with Greg Kilgreen is being televised. Lance and everybody else plop down on various benches and bench-type apparati to watch. Long minutes of Riley chatting it up go by and finally it finishes. Everybody there looks at each other. They turn to face Lance, but he has magically disappeared. A flushing noise comes out of the locker room and Lance comes walking out fastening his gym shorts back around his glorious waist.
Lance: (pausing, noticing the incredulous stares)...What?
Johnny Mac (spotter): You didn't...stay for the whole thing?
Lance: I got bored. This mouthpiece who doesn't know when to shut up gives a lot of gas. I had to go take a dump because that was more interesting than listening to him run his mouth. I honestly can't respect Micros when he doesn't even know how to speak for himself. And even then, if I actually decided to suffer through one of these long-winded diatribes, I would also have to deal with the complete lack of creativity in his insults. Steroid Happy? I mean seriously. Hasn't that one been done to death in baseball?
Gym Rat #1: Oh? What would you have said?
Lance Erickson: I...don't know. (Jovial Tone) But if I were a guy who has more supplements than Centrum Silver in him, I wouldn't make my loudmouth manager spout some BS because I'm jealous of the all natural fantastic-osity of my opponent.
Lance sits down on the bench press and drapes his towel over his shoulders. Grabbing his water bottle, Lance squirts down his head and then takes a swig. He then shakes some of the sweathingyer from his hair while groaning.
Gym Rat #2: Somebody sounds a little bit bitter.
Lance Erickson: How about disappointed? Micro Machines there thinks he's el super captain of some roman army, but don't captains have to be vocal? Unless he takes Riley with him for his 'battles' I can't see him winning more than a nice casket for his loser's consolation prize. I actually have more respect for Big Ci. He hasn't said a damn thing, but at least he has to dignity to not send someone else while he takes a nice and soothing ice bath trying to look tough. I can't listen to everybody tout this loser anymore. I'm turning this indigestion producing drek off.
Lance Erickson hops back onto the weight machine to try and reach the machine. While he's reaching for the channel button a news reporter comes on the screen and the words "Lance Erickson" and "Gambling addiction" float out over the gym. Lance Erickson startles and slips and falls of the machine and onto his back. Jumping back up to a chorus of laughter, Lance stares dumbfounded at the television.
Lance Erickson: (stuttering) G...G...Gambling...COCKFIGHTING?!! That's...interesting...
Johnny Mac: (laughing) Nice one. Do you have a problem?
Lance Erickson: I've placed one bet in my life...What I'm wondering is, who dreamed up this bile? I don't think it was Macros...Riley says more than enough for the two of them. It could have been Big Ci, but he seems like a stand up kind of guy who...just happens to be one of my opponents. Was it someone else in the fed? Someone else altogether?
Lance sits down, racking his brain while all the guys in the gym have a laugh at his expense. Even Teddy, the gym manager, peeled the paper off of his eyes to poke a bit of good fun at Lance.
Lance Erickson: Screw it. JOHNNY! Think you can stop laughing long enough to spot another set?
Johnny Mac walks over wiping tears out of his eyes with a big grin on his face. He helps Lance safely get the bar down and Lance starts ripping out another set and continuing his workout.
*fade out*