Hoss's hostility causes a lull at the table.
Kip raises his hand.
HOSS
What the hell are you doing?
KIP
Permission to speak.
HOSS
You don't need permission to
speak-- just speak!
Kip is reluctant to start.
KIP
Well, forgive me saying, but
you seem a little tense today.
HOSS
You're god damn right, I'm tense!
We're less than a week removed
from a couple thousand strong
dancing to an anthem dedicated
to some punk fucking your mom.
There's a beat. Awkward silence creeps in.
CHAZZ
(mumbling)
It is a catchy tune--
Hoss smacks him in the back of the head.
HOSS
Listen here. If it's true that you get
once chance to make a first impression,
we're fucked, because Jamie Wheeler, that
motherfuckin' motherfucker, left all of
you with egg on your faces last Thursday.
Hoss pulls out a flyer from his pocket. He unfolds it, revealing it to be the lineup for Wicked.
HOSS
And now, we get the lineup, and
Kip, you're billed in the second
match of the night-- a warm-up to
Wheeler. Welcome to mediocrity,
son, you're one fight removed
from being the curtain jerker.
Kip is gritting his teeth. He is getting pissed.
HOSS
You mad? Good. Now we talk show, and
what we need to do about it. Kip's got
the lawyer for his opener-- Saul Ledgett.
There is a pause while the table mates consider Hoss's announcement.
CHAZZ
But is it?
HOSS
Is it what?
CHAZZ
Just hear me out. You say it's all
legit, but what if it's not? What
if the powers that be have some
swerve planned-- something to stick
it to Kip? How do we know it's all
legit?
Hoss looks confused. He holds up the flyer.
HOSS
Because that what it says
right here-- Saul Ledgett.
Chazz is trying to read Hoss. He nods contemplatively.
CHAZZ
Okay. It's all legit-- if you say so.
Hoss's confusion is leading to frustration.
HOSS
Just...stop talking. Now listen up, I
don't like lawyers. I don't like 'em,
and I don't trust 'em. Professional
shit disturbers, if you ask me, and
from what I can tell, this one's no
different.
Kip huffs, taking a sip of his freshly squeezed lemonade.
KIP
Tell me about it, I hear this guy
is one of those snooty rich-boy
types who grew up with a wealthy
father and silver spoon in his
mouth-- spoiled brat is what I hear.
Kip holds up his empty cup of lemonade. Oregon Dave lets out a heavy sigh before rising from his seat, and taking the cup from Kip to go secure a refill.
KIP
Guess I'm gonna have to teach this
Shyster a think or two what hard
work is all about.
Oregon Dave returns to the table, handing the refill to Kip, who takes a big sip and let's out an "ah!"
Hoss looks to his son's two cohorts.
HOSS
Word around the campfire is that this
kid has a tendency to take his eye off
the prize. Most lawyers I know generally
live in fear that everyone around them
want them dead, and that's a though
process I want Mr. Ledgett returning to
early and often, and that's where you
two come in. I want you at ringside,
one on each side, giving the counselor
a lot to consider.
OREGON DAVE
Oh, don't worry about us, boss,
we know what's gotta be done.
Ain't that right, Chazz.
CHAZZ
I'm still trying to figure
out who you're fighting.
Kip looks to Chazz.
KIP
Saul. Saul Ledgett.
CHAZZ
You keep saying that, and I'm
happy you believe it's all legit,
but you still should know who
your opponent is so you can
prepare, don't you think?
Hoss snarls. Steam is coming from his nostrils. He stares at Chazz and points to a bench outside of the restaurant area about twenty yards away.
CHAZZ
You! You go sit over there,
you living, breathing Abbott
and fucking Costello skit,
before I really lose my patience.
Chazz is confused.
CHAZZ
What did I say?
Kip nods to his friend, speaking softly.
KIP
Just go. We'll come get you.
Slowly, like a scolded, shamed child marching to his room, Chazz leaves the table.
Hoss looks to Oregon Dave.
HOSS
Now, before we continue-- are
you clear on who this idiot is
fighting?
OREGON DAVE
Yeah, of course boss.
Hoss pauses to study Oregon Dave. Hoss opens his mouth to continue.
OREGON DAVE
Saul Legett.
Hoss squints at Oregon Dave.
HOSS
Are you fucking with me right now?
OREGON DAVE
Me? No boss.
HOSS
Good. Now from what I hear,
this kid is a power bomb
specialist. He's got a bit
of size advantage on Kip,
but nothing like what you
have got. So for the next
week, I want you and Kip
working nothing but
powerbombs, you got me?
OREGON DAVE
Powerbombs. Not a problem.
HOSS
Good. At least that Brandon
Mckay has the smarts to
know where the safe bet is.
Remember, the goal is not
just to win, but to outshine
Wheeler Thursday night. And
that takes us to step two--
Wheeler versus Orton. And
trust me, there will be
nothing legit about that
match.
FADE TO BLACK
