Post by lanceerickson on Feb 23, 2007 16:09:21 GMT -6
The scene opens with Lance Erickson back at the casino where he placed his bet on himself. He struts up to the counter in his standard attire of a baggy midriff shirt and a pair of loud and obnoxious gym shorts. For once his hair is tied back into a ponytail. He gets up to the bookie counter where the attractive female bookie is sitting there with nobody waiting in line. Lance swaggers up to the counter and cooly leans on his elbow, looking at her.
Female Bookie: Oh, Mr. Erickson! Back to bet on yourself again?
Lance Erickson: No actually. I'm only getting 3:1 this week. I actually came to cash in on my winnings.
The girl behind the counter raises an eyebrow as she looks at him.
Female Bookie: You do realize you didn't win right?
Lance Erickson: Yeah, of course. I didn't win, but Macros did.
Female Bookie: And you bet on yourself to win...
Lance pulls out not one, not two, but THREE claim tickets. One for himself, one for Big Ci, and one for the victor, Macros. The amounts placed on each of the men varies, but they are genuine.
Lance Erickson: See, I placed these two on later days. When you weren't here of course. I was thinking and I did the math. I put enough money on the other two so that no matter who won, I made some money.
She picks up the tickets, discards the two non-winners and she puts Macros' ticket into the computer and gives Lance a cheque for $6000 dollars to take to the payout area. Lance pockets the cheque and leans in closer.
Lance Erickson: You know, the deal was that if I won this little bet...I'd take you to dinner. You remember?
Female Bookie: Uh, sorry, the deal was that if you won the MATCH, then you'd get to take me out.
Lance gets an idiotic look as he drops his head to the counter.
Female Bookie: Besides, I don't think my husband would be to thrilled with me seeing another man.
Lance grumbles as he makes the trip to cash his cheque. Lance arrives at the counter and plasters his claim on the counter and mumbles "cash". The burly dude behind the counter looks at it and then pulls out a stack of hundred dollar bills and counts off sixty of them to make six grand. Lance pulls out his wallet that has an embedded picture of him flexing and puts the cash inside. Lance struggles for a mintue to close his manly wallet and then struts out of the casino. He hops in his Yugo a drives away as the scene cuts out.
The scene cuts back in at a waffle house where Lance is pulling up in his car. He walks in and uses his height to find Greg Kilgreen stirring a cup of coffee. Lance walks over and sits down.
Greg Kilgreen: You're late.
Lance Erickson: Sorry, I had to go collect my winnings.
Greg Kilgreen: But you lost.
Lance Erickson: What? You think I only placed one bet? I bet on everybody in the match. And in a way that I would make money no matter what.
Greg Kilgreen: Ah, I see. So anyway, you joined up with the faction that Big Ci is building right?
Lance Erickson: Yeah, I wanted to be a part of something where respect and champions congregate.
Greg Kilgreen: But you and Big Ci are both out of the running for the Valor Championship. And Dave Hunter is in a tag match this week. I don't see any championship matches in the near future for any of you.
Lance Erickson: What? Do you think I'll never have another title shot here in POW? Same with Dave Hunter and Big Ci. I think I heard somewhere that they want to shoot for the tag titles whenever bossman decides to bring them in. And then there's also that Mystery Title Tito mentioned at First Rights. I'm intrigued about that one.
Greg Kilgreen: And then you have a match with Chester Coban this week. What are your thoughts on that?
Lance Erickson: I'm still in prime condition from the triple threat match at First Rights. I just have to keep it up. Chester Coban isn't going to be trouble in the slightest. If you'll notice, he was high up on the card last week. Because of his embarrasing performace he got moved down to the bottom of the card. I mean, I understand why I'm down near the bottom. I'm new. I'm still proving myself to Tito. This guy had his chance and he showed he couldn't handle the burden. Sorry Treasure Chest, you had your shot, now it's time for you to get out of the way for people like me.
Greg Kilgreen: Pretty bold statements. Why do you say this?
Lance Erickson: Simple. I show commitment and drive to win every week. Granted I lost last week, but Macros knows his stuff. Cobstop shows week in and week out that he doesn't care about this company. He doesn't care about anything but his little chair fetish.
Greg Kilgreen: You mentioned the chair. You do know that if he gets the chance he will try and hit you with one of those.
Lance Erickson: Let him. If the ref doesn't catch him and call for the DQ, I'll beat the living hell out of him for trying to take the coward's way out once again. I don't use weapons unless it's a stipulation. I don't need to. I'm actually able to compete on skill alone. Seriously, how long has this guy been in the company? Since then all I've seen from him is backstabbing and chairshots. Maybe he'd like to show some creativity and vary it up. Maybe pull out some brass knuckles or hit me with a sock full of quarters. But no, he'll go and be the predictable being he is. I can't respect that.
Greg Kilgreen: I hear all this talk of respect from you. Is it that important to you?
Lance Erickson: Respect is as important to me as this body of mine. The best matches are the ones where I can shake my opponent's hand after it's done. Where I wouldn't mind having a beer afterward with my opponent. Big Ci is one of those guys. Which is why I joined up.
Greg Kilgreen: Well, seeing as you were LATE, I have to get out of here to go actually work.
Greg Kilgreen gets up, and leaves the cash for his coffee. He shakes Lance's hand before walking out the door. Lance gets up and drops his keys. He crawls under the table, retrieves his keys and stands back up to a couple of wolf-whistles. Lance walks toward the door, flexes for his admirers and then leaves.
*end of scene*
Female Bookie: Oh, Mr. Erickson! Back to bet on yourself again?
Lance Erickson: No actually. I'm only getting 3:1 this week. I actually came to cash in on my winnings.
The girl behind the counter raises an eyebrow as she looks at him.
Female Bookie: You do realize you didn't win right?
Lance Erickson: Yeah, of course. I didn't win, but Macros did.
Female Bookie: And you bet on yourself to win...
Lance pulls out not one, not two, but THREE claim tickets. One for himself, one for Big Ci, and one for the victor, Macros. The amounts placed on each of the men varies, but they are genuine.
Lance Erickson: See, I placed these two on later days. When you weren't here of course. I was thinking and I did the math. I put enough money on the other two so that no matter who won, I made some money.
She picks up the tickets, discards the two non-winners and she puts Macros' ticket into the computer and gives Lance a cheque for $6000 dollars to take to the payout area. Lance pockets the cheque and leans in closer.
Lance Erickson: You know, the deal was that if I won this little bet...I'd take you to dinner. You remember?
Female Bookie: Uh, sorry, the deal was that if you won the MATCH, then you'd get to take me out.
Lance gets an idiotic look as he drops his head to the counter.
Female Bookie: Besides, I don't think my husband would be to thrilled with me seeing another man.
Lance grumbles as he makes the trip to cash his cheque. Lance arrives at the counter and plasters his claim on the counter and mumbles "cash". The burly dude behind the counter looks at it and then pulls out a stack of hundred dollar bills and counts off sixty of them to make six grand. Lance pulls out his wallet that has an embedded picture of him flexing and puts the cash inside. Lance struggles for a mintue to close his manly wallet and then struts out of the casino. He hops in his Yugo a drives away as the scene cuts out.
The scene cuts back in at a waffle house where Lance is pulling up in his car. He walks in and uses his height to find Greg Kilgreen stirring a cup of coffee. Lance walks over and sits down.
Greg Kilgreen: You're late.
Lance Erickson: Sorry, I had to go collect my winnings.
Greg Kilgreen: But you lost.
Lance Erickson: What? You think I only placed one bet? I bet on everybody in the match. And in a way that I would make money no matter what.
Greg Kilgreen: Ah, I see. So anyway, you joined up with the faction that Big Ci is building right?
Lance Erickson: Yeah, I wanted to be a part of something where respect and champions congregate.
Greg Kilgreen: But you and Big Ci are both out of the running for the Valor Championship. And Dave Hunter is in a tag match this week. I don't see any championship matches in the near future for any of you.
Lance Erickson: What? Do you think I'll never have another title shot here in POW? Same with Dave Hunter and Big Ci. I think I heard somewhere that they want to shoot for the tag titles whenever bossman decides to bring them in. And then there's also that Mystery Title Tito mentioned at First Rights. I'm intrigued about that one.
Greg Kilgreen: And then you have a match with Chester Coban this week. What are your thoughts on that?
Lance Erickson: I'm still in prime condition from the triple threat match at First Rights. I just have to keep it up. Chester Coban isn't going to be trouble in the slightest. If you'll notice, he was high up on the card last week. Because of his embarrasing performace he got moved down to the bottom of the card. I mean, I understand why I'm down near the bottom. I'm new. I'm still proving myself to Tito. This guy had his chance and he showed he couldn't handle the burden. Sorry Treasure Chest, you had your shot, now it's time for you to get out of the way for people like me.
Greg Kilgreen: Pretty bold statements. Why do you say this?
Lance Erickson: Simple. I show commitment and drive to win every week. Granted I lost last week, but Macros knows his stuff. Cobstop shows week in and week out that he doesn't care about this company. He doesn't care about anything but his little chair fetish.
Greg Kilgreen: You mentioned the chair. You do know that if he gets the chance he will try and hit you with one of those.
Lance Erickson: Let him. If the ref doesn't catch him and call for the DQ, I'll beat the living hell out of him for trying to take the coward's way out once again. I don't use weapons unless it's a stipulation. I don't need to. I'm actually able to compete on skill alone. Seriously, how long has this guy been in the company? Since then all I've seen from him is backstabbing and chairshots. Maybe he'd like to show some creativity and vary it up. Maybe pull out some brass knuckles or hit me with a sock full of quarters. But no, he'll go and be the predictable being he is. I can't respect that.
Greg Kilgreen: I hear all this talk of respect from you. Is it that important to you?
Lance Erickson: Respect is as important to me as this body of mine. The best matches are the ones where I can shake my opponent's hand after it's done. Where I wouldn't mind having a beer afterward with my opponent. Big Ci is one of those guys. Which is why I joined up.
Greg Kilgreen: Well, seeing as you were LATE, I have to get out of here to go actually work.
Greg Kilgreen gets up, and leaves the cash for his coffee. He shakes Lance's hand before walking out the door. Lance gets up and drops his keys. He crawls under the table, retrieves his keys and stands back up to a couple of wolf-whistles. Lance walks toward the door, flexes for his admirers and then leaves.
*end of scene*