Post by lanceerickson on Apr 16, 2007 16:23:03 GMT -6
The scene opens up with Lance Erikson walking into a Dodge City redneck bar, complete with men in wife-beaters and sleeveless flannel shirts, with Holly in tow. Holly goes and sits down at a table while Lance stands at the bar, waiting to order. Finally, the shaved head bartender ambles over. Lance orders two pitchers of Killian's and four glasses. He heads back to the table where Holly is waiting, being hit on by a refrigerator shaped gentleman. Lance sets the beer and glasses down and proceeds to pour out two glasses worth, ignoring the guy for a minute. Lance pushes past the man to hand Holly her drink and then proceeds to sit down after taking off his trenchcoat and slinging it over the chair.
Man: (southern accent) You know, why you come back with me tonight and I'll show you what a real man can do for ya.
Holly: Lance...
Lance puts his feet up and sighs, eyes closed behind his sunglasses.
Lance Erikson: What?
Holly: Will you make him go away?
Lance Erikson: Why? I'm relaxed here. I Worked out hard today and I just want to sit back and enjoy this.
Holly: I've tried...please?
Lance sighs and stands up, setting his glass down.
Lance Erikson: Look...Billy-Bob, or Jim-Bob, or Larry-Joe, or whatever slack-jawed name your mother cursed you with...We already have a problem. I wanted to sit back, have a drink, and not worry about shit. I had a long day and I'm tired; you're keeping me from enjoying myself. So why don't you go back to whatever it is you were doing before we walked in before we have even more of an issue.
The man sizes Lance up, and having obviously not indulged in enough liquid courage, mutters a 'sorry' and walks off. Lance adjusts his shades and sits back down, reclining up against the wall with his feet on another chair. Big Ci walks in and sits himself down.
Big Ci: *pouring a glass* Yo...
Lance Erikson: Hey.
Big Ci: When did she get here?
Lance Erikson: This morning. She was holding a care package from none other than Mr. Ego himself.
Big Ci: Oh? What was in there? Poison?
Lance Erikson: Nah, a teddy bear and a lollipop. I guess he wanted to be juvenile or something. Whatever, I don't really care. If he's spending his time buying things like that, then he's not doing what he needs to be doing and studying up on Dave and me. That's fine with me though. Just means I'll get to surprise him later.
Big Ci: Where's Dave?
Lance Erikson: I don't know, I thought he'd be here by now. You ready for your match?
Big Ci: Of course! Although, more training could never hurt. Maybe you should start a big brawl in here...
Lance Erikson: No, I'm not in the mood. If you want to though, I won't stop you. I won't help you, but go right ahead.
Big Ci: Nah, I'd probably get shot or hit with a barstool or something.
Lance leans forward and pours out another pint. He goes back to his relaxed position with his feet on the table this time. Lance lets out a huge yawn before Ci speaks again.
Big Ci: YOu ready for your match this week?
Lance Erikson: I'm getting there. I haven't seen Dave much this week though. We should be working out together, but he'll be ready too. I've been busy doing my homework on these idiots we're facing. They've been busy talking trash, too much trash in fact. It's as if they can't do two things at once. Maybe if they pumped some iron, they'd be okay, but they're not. Midnight Felon's the one that needs to put a couple of weights on the bar. If he could actually tear himself away from his triple whopper and fries, that is.
Big Ci: He's big, so what?
Lance Erikson: He's a bit too big. He's got an inch on me and 70 pounds. He's not like Victor Bloodmoon who is an undeniable beast, he's a bit sloppy in the waist area. He might be able to beat me if I was napping and he fell on me, but I'd also be dead.
Big Ci: Touche...don't talk about Bloodmoon though, I get to face him this week.
Lance Erikson: *sighs* I guess Dave's not coming. No point in wasting.
Lance fills his glass and the empty glass. He leans back again, but this time with two beers in hand.
Lance Erikson: If BBK and Midnight Felon want to underestimate me, they've got a huge disappointment coming. I've never been legitimately pinned in this company and I'm undefeated in tag team matches.
Big Ci: But you have three losses...
Lance Erikson: True. The first loss was in that three way with you and Macros. He got you for the win. Second loss was against David DeAngelo. It took a high heel to the face for me to go down that time. And the third time was against Black when I lost the cursed belt. I had him when his asshole manager got him out of the Shattered Lance. I would've won that one if he hadn't gotten some leverage by putting his feet on the ropes. Like I said, I've never been legitimately beaten in this company. So BBK and Midnight Felon can bring their best on Thursday. Dave and I will show them what it's like to take on legends in the making.
Holly refills her glass and puts the second empty pitcher on the table. She looks at Lance for a couple of moments.
Lance Erikson: Why don't you go get the next round. I really don't feel like paying this time.
Holly frowns and walks up to the bar while Big Ci shoots Lance a dirty look. She returns after a few with two new full pitchers.
Big Ci: *pulling out his wallet* How much was it?
Holly: He...didn't charge me...
Lance smirks with an arrogant, all-knowing smile and they all start talking about something unimportant.
::Fade out::
Man: (southern accent) You know, why you come back with me tonight and I'll show you what a real man can do for ya.
Holly: Lance...
Lance puts his feet up and sighs, eyes closed behind his sunglasses.
Lance Erikson: What?
Holly: Will you make him go away?
Lance Erikson: Why? I'm relaxed here. I Worked out hard today and I just want to sit back and enjoy this.
Holly: I've tried...please?
Lance sighs and stands up, setting his glass down.
Lance Erikson: Look...Billy-Bob, or Jim-Bob, or Larry-Joe, or whatever slack-jawed name your mother cursed you with...We already have a problem. I wanted to sit back, have a drink, and not worry about shit. I had a long day and I'm tired; you're keeping me from enjoying myself. So why don't you go back to whatever it is you were doing before we walked in before we have even more of an issue.
The man sizes Lance up, and having obviously not indulged in enough liquid courage, mutters a 'sorry' and walks off. Lance adjusts his shades and sits back down, reclining up against the wall with his feet on another chair. Big Ci walks in and sits himself down.
Big Ci: *pouring a glass* Yo...
Lance Erikson: Hey.
Big Ci: When did she get here?
Lance Erikson: This morning. She was holding a care package from none other than Mr. Ego himself.
Big Ci: Oh? What was in there? Poison?
Lance Erikson: Nah, a teddy bear and a lollipop. I guess he wanted to be juvenile or something. Whatever, I don't really care. If he's spending his time buying things like that, then he's not doing what he needs to be doing and studying up on Dave and me. That's fine with me though. Just means I'll get to surprise him later.
Big Ci: Where's Dave?
Lance Erikson: I don't know, I thought he'd be here by now. You ready for your match?
Big Ci: Of course! Although, more training could never hurt. Maybe you should start a big brawl in here...
Lance Erikson: No, I'm not in the mood. If you want to though, I won't stop you. I won't help you, but go right ahead.
Big Ci: Nah, I'd probably get shot or hit with a barstool or something.
Lance leans forward and pours out another pint. He goes back to his relaxed position with his feet on the table this time. Lance lets out a huge yawn before Ci speaks again.
Big Ci: YOu ready for your match this week?
Lance Erikson: I'm getting there. I haven't seen Dave much this week though. We should be working out together, but he'll be ready too. I've been busy doing my homework on these idiots we're facing. They've been busy talking trash, too much trash in fact. It's as if they can't do two things at once. Maybe if they pumped some iron, they'd be okay, but they're not. Midnight Felon's the one that needs to put a couple of weights on the bar. If he could actually tear himself away from his triple whopper and fries, that is.
Big Ci: He's big, so what?
Lance Erikson: He's a bit too big. He's got an inch on me and 70 pounds. He's not like Victor Bloodmoon who is an undeniable beast, he's a bit sloppy in the waist area. He might be able to beat me if I was napping and he fell on me, but I'd also be dead.
Big Ci: Touche...don't talk about Bloodmoon though, I get to face him this week.
Lance Erikson: *sighs* I guess Dave's not coming. No point in wasting.
Lance fills his glass and the empty glass. He leans back again, but this time with two beers in hand.
Lance Erikson: If BBK and Midnight Felon want to underestimate me, they've got a huge disappointment coming. I've never been legitimately pinned in this company and I'm undefeated in tag team matches.
Big Ci: But you have three losses...
Lance Erikson: True. The first loss was in that three way with you and Macros. He got you for the win. Second loss was against David DeAngelo. It took a high heel to the face for me to go down that time. And the third time was against Black when I lost the cursed belt. I had him when his asshole manager got him out of the Shattered Lance. I would've won that one if he hadn't gotten some leverage by putting his feet on the ropes. Like I said, I've never been legitimately beaten in this company. So BBK and Midnight Felon can bring their best on Thursday. Dave and I will show them what it's like to take on legends in the making.
Holly refills her glass and puts the second empty pitcher on the table. She looks at Lance for a couple of moments.
Lance Erikson: Why don't you go get the next round. I really don't feel like paying this time.
Holly frowns and walks up to the bar while Big Ci shoots Lance a dirty look. She returns after a few with two new full pitchers.
Big Ci: *pulling out his wallet* How much was it?
Holly: He...didn't charge me...
Lance smirks with an arrogant, all-knowing smile and they all start talking about something unimportant.
::Fade out::