[Dark.]

 

[Damp.]

 

[Dingy.]

 

[Single light swinging from the ceiling.]

 

[Yep...pretty much your typical tv show style interrogation room setup. Yet again we see Ryan Matthews, this time his still-cuffed hands resting on the table in front of him. How he got himself into these predicaments he would never know. However, how he was going to get out of this one left him with a smile on his face.]

 

[That is, until the two well dressed detectives came in, for the sake of argument these guys will be referred to from here on as Good Cop and Bad Cop. You all know the song and dance by now we’re pretty sure...]

 

[Matthews greets them with a seeming sigh of relief and he throws his hands up.]

 

Ry:

Hallelujah! I thought you guys forgot about me in here. I was starting to run out of air and...

 

[The manilla folder slaps down on the table, hard. These two seem to not be in a gaming mood, however Matthews is determined to play this to the hilt...]

 

Ry:

You know, I’ve seen people spill all kinds of important documents all over hell doing stuff like that, you should be careful.

 

Good Cop:

Alright Ryan, we have you booked for nearly inciting a riot in a local nightclub...All we’re really waiting on is the owner to press charges against you. So why not tell us how this all happened?

 

Ry:

Yet again, you guys miss the point. I’m gonna end up walking outta here again when you guys get ahold of the club owner. He knows it was only self-defense and he won’t wanna press charges. So seriously guys, isn’t there something else you should be doing like keeping a Krispy Kreme in business somewhere? 

 

Bad Cop:

Don’t screw with us or we’ll make this as painful as possible.

 

Ry:

Oh the possibilities with that one. I could very easily press charges on you just for threatening me. But that would mean you would actually have to BE a threat to me in order to threaten me. But then again, your charming personality is going to make this painful enough.

 

Good Cop:

We have it on good authority that when we get ahold of that club owner you won’t be so smug...so let’s take it from the top shall we?

 

Ry:

Alright alright...

 

[Flashback sequence to earlier that evening, with Matthews narrating...]

 

Ry:

My buddy Sam, his cousin Ty, and myself went out to Club 419, just wanting to go get a drink or six, snack on some wings, watch the fights, and maybe hit it with a hot chick or three.  Ty and Sam really aren’t into the idea of running a train, even on hot white women...then again neither am I big on sharing...

 

Good Cop:

Beside the point...

 

Ry:

Hey, this is my flashback sequence, you wanted me to talk about it, now either you shut it and let me finish or I’ll go back to the “I want my phone call” routine...

 

[Silence is the answer.]

 

Ry:

Good. So anyway...

 

[Flash fully into the flashback...]

 

[We see the triumvirate that makes the women’s panties wet, namely Ryan Matthews, Sam Horry and Ty Walker, entering a dimly lit sports bar/club establishment. All three are dressed to the nines, with Matthews wearing sunglasses even in here.]

 

Sam:

Ry, why the HALE you got those damn things on right now?

 

Ry:

Cuz I wear my sunglasses at night so I can...

 

Sam:

Enough, forget I asked.

 

Ry:

Hey man, don’t switch the blade on the guy in shades, oh no...

 

Sam:

Shut up...

 

[Ryan goes to open his mouth and Sam immediately points a finger at him.]

 

Sam:

And shut up shuttin up.

 

Ty:

So why the hell are we here mang? Shouldn’t we be, I dunno, trainin’ an’ shit?

 

[Quizzically, Ryan and Sam stare back at Ty. Their confusion is born from the oddity that is Tyrone Walker knowing that the concept of “training” even exists, much less that he would ever suggest such an activity.]

 

Ry: [breaks into a huge grin]

Ty, when you get to hanging out with us enough, you’ll start to understand that even a night out with Sam and I can turn into an adventure, which usually leads to some kinda physical activity...

 

Sam:

HIYO!

 

Ry:

...usually spawned on by someone saying something stupid to either Sam or I, followed by a challenge to some kinda test of manhood which we always tilt the odds hilariously against us, only to come out...

 

Sam:

Whoa! PAUSE Ry, Pause.

 

Ry:

...as the winners in the end.

 

Sam:

Because that’s how it works in our world, mang.

 

[Thumbs up and cheesy grin, accented by the “ding” sound effect and sparkle visual effect on Sam’s pearly whites...]

 

Ty:

A’ight, I guess I’m game for that. Just no internet meme bullshit or whateva, okay?

 

Sam:

Psh, are you kiddin’ cuz? If we’re lucky whatever happens tonight will end up on Youtube and will have 8,000,000 hits by tomorrow morning AND it’s own fansite.

 

Ty:

Yo, didn’t I hear something about you two mu’fuckas lighting some nigga on fire once and him doing the robot while he was burnin’ an’ shit?

 

Ry:

Allegedly...

 

Sam:

Yeah, what Ry said [makes air quotes] “Allegedly”.

 

[Upon being told they’d get a table in a more secluded VIP area of the establishment, Ryan, Ty and Sam are lead through the crowd, who seem to part for them for the most part, save for one meathead just before the entrance to the VIP who bumps into Ryan with his shoulder.]

 

Ry:

Excuse you.

 

Meathead:

The fuck did you just say to me?!

 

Ry:

I said excuse you, as in I know you didn’t mean to run into me just now, Morris.

 

“Morris”:

How did you...? [Recognizes Ryan] Oh hell no Matthews.

 

Ry:

Yeah, Meathead Morris, I went there. The fuck are you doing back in town? I thought as you were riding that horsebag sister of yours outta town you were told not to come back.

 

Meathead:

The fuck do you think you are talkin to me like that? I’m of half a mind to smash you into the fuckin floor right now...

 

Ry: [Turns to leave]

If you had half a mind you’d leave right now...

 

Meathead: [Grabs Matthews arm]

Say that to my fuckin face, you pussy.

 

Sam:

You see Ty, it starts already...we ain’t even in a seat yet. 

 

Ty:

What you mean’?

 

Sam:

The gigantic tard-happy mothafucka right there just said something stupid to Ryan.

 

Ty:

Ah shit, I can’t go anywhere with you two can I?

 

Sam:

Nah, just watch, Ry just gave me the high sign that he’s got this one. Lemme go talk to the DJ. You know what’s about to happen right?

 

Ty:[Analyzes the situation for a second, then realizes what’s up]

We bout to get paid, my nigga!

 

Sam:

Exactly. Be right back.

 

[With that, Sam walks over to where Ryan and Meathead Morris are having a staredown.]

 

Sam:

There a problem here Ry?

 

Ry:

Nah, no problem Sam.

 

Meathead:

Like hell, I’m about to make you talking and chewing food a problem.

 

Ry: [a sly smile crosses his face]

Is that so? Well why don’t we make this more interesting? For me I mean.

 

Sam:

What’s the call Ry?

 

Ry:

Tell em to get the handcuffs.

 

Meathead:

You gonna handcuff me? That’s the only way you can beat me, you little prick?

 

Ry:

Not for you asshole, keep up. Those are for me.

 

Meathead:

Psh, you really wanna die huh?

 

Ry:

Keep talking jackass...it’s just gonna make it all the more sweet when I walk outta here unscathed.

 

Sam: [Goes to the DJ booth and gets the mic]

Ay yo Cleveland what up?! Cheap Heat in the house, and our boy Ty Walker up in here with us! You know what time it is right? We got us a throwdown challenge. Meathead Morris here just stepped to my boy Ry. Here’s the rules people, because I know all the party people up in here wanna get down and maybe win some money tonight. But we gotta keep this shit on the hush, na’mean? I’m giving 10 to 1 on my boy Ry lasting 5 minutes with his hands cuffed against the Meathead. Who’s takin that? Meathead is 10, Ry is 1. Come on over here to my cuz Ty and pony up that money.

 

Ty: [to Sam]

Uh....isn’t this kinda illegal, my nigga?

 

Sam:

Relax cuz, I know the club owner. I can do shit like that.

 

Ty:

Oh...a’ight cool. 

 

[Some of the staff hurriedly clear an open spot in the floor by moving tables out of the way, one end of the circle being the stage and DJ booth, in one half of the circle Meathead Morris has now taken off his shirt and removed his chains and any rings from his hands per the rules. The other half, Ryan Matthews has a wifebeater and the dress pants he came in wearing still on. He looks over at Sam.]

 

Ry:

Yo Sam, the USB drive on my keys, take it and plug it into the equipment in the DJ booth. It’s got something special on it I saved just for such a time...

 

Sam: [Fishes the keys out of Ryan’s discarded shirt and does so]

Okay here goes...

 

[At that Sam pushes a button and suddenly the “Simply the Best” by Tina Turner begins playing over the speakers in the club.]

 

Ry: [Scowls at Sam]

No NO NO Sam, that is supposed to be played AFTER I kick this guy’s ass! Play the one theme from that one game...

 

Sam: [sees the file in question and snickers]

It DOES go with everything...

 

[The music immediately changes to “Guile’s Theme” from Street Fighter IV...]

 

Ry: [the sly smile returns]

Ever felt like you were in a video game, Morris? Because when this is all done, I might just have to teabag your corpse.

 

[Meathead Morris has heard enough, he charges Matthews and cocks back his right hand, intending to smash Matthews’ face in. His look of rage turns to a look of surprise when he hits nothing but air. He turns around to find Matthews facing him, smiling.]

 

Ry:

Really Morris? I thought you were gonna make this interesting. C’mon you big pussy, you can’t even hit me when I can’t block?

 

[Morris advances quickly, this time throwing a series of jabs and hooks, all of which Matthews dodges, seemingly with ease.]

 

Ry:

Do I need to stand still or be in a walker or something? Stop trying to hit me and fuckin hit me if you can, bitch!

 

[With that, Morris rears back another right hand, and once again hits air, this time Matthews dodges and rushes past him toward the stage.]

 

Ry: [to the part of the crowd in front of him]

Get out of the fuckin way!

 

[Just after they do, with a move as nimble as a cat, Matthews jumps up on the corner of the stage from the floor, then goes airborne again, bringing his cuffed hands up under his legs and to the front of him before landing on the floor in a crouched position. He stands up slowly, holding his open hands out in front of him, palms down in a non-threatening manner.]

 

Ry:

Don’t be scared Meathead, remember I can’t hit ya...

 

[Even while saying this Matthews advances toward Morris, who takes another swing and again hits nothing, but finds his wrist trapped by the extra long chain on the cuffs that Matthews is wearing. Matthews then drags him down to where Morris is bent over and the two are face to face...and at that exact moment the music changes to “Smack My Bitch Up” by Prodigy]

 

Ry:

Ooooh...I found a loophole bitch! I oughta be a lawyer!

 

[Enraged, Morris grabs Matthews by the back of his head with the other hand and throws Matthews forward only to have Matthews wrap the arm still and spin back around, pulling himself effectively into a triangle choke on Morris which he immediately locks up. After about 10 seconds of struggling, Morris passes out and falls to his side, at which point Matthews releases the hold and kicks him away.]

 

Ry:

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you do it. Somebody tell the fat lady she missed her cue.

 

[As Ty and Sam go to gather money, they find the resistance to be fierce, as the crowd seems to understand that Matthews was little more than a ringer. Soon, bottles start flying and the red and blue lights come in from outside...]

 

[Flash back to the present...]

 

Bad Cop:

So you started a fight, choked a guy out, and then the riot started?

 

Ry:

Well it's not on the same level as the shit Heidi and Eric Dane started...But hey can I help it if people are sore losers?

 

Good Cop:

Fleecing all those people out of their money, such a shame. Well I think we got what we need. We’ll be in touch...

 

[Just then a third cop comes into the room, a cell phone in hand. After a quick discussion with Good Cop, he hands over the phone.]

 

Good Cop:

There’s somebody on this phone, your phone, claiming to be Chief Peterson saying he wants to talk to the owner of the club...can you explain that?

 

Ry:

Gimme the phone and I can.

 

[Good Cop puts the phone on the table and presses a button for speaker phone. Matthews rolls his eyes.]

 

Ry:

Thanks....Chief Peterson?

 

Chief Peterson:

Yes, is this the owner of Club 419?

 

Ry:

Why yes it is. What can I help you with Chief?

 

Chief Peterson:

We have a suspect in custody accused of inciting a riot and brawling at your club, as it is private property you can choose to press charges or not, do you wish to press charges?

 

Ry:

Actually Chief my staff told me the whole story, from what I could tell it was self defense so I see no need to press charges. Thank you.

 

Chief Peterson:

Sorry to bother you. Have a good night.

 

[As the other party hangs up, Ryan Matthews has an ear to ear grin on his face. Neither cop in the room is buying it however...until the third cop comes back in. After a brief discussion, the good and bad cop come to grips with what just happened, the individual in the room with them, and the club owner ARE one in the same, verified through dispatch.]

 

Bad Cop:

You know, I should rearrange your...

 

Ry:

You might wanna stop that sentence, after all the recorder is still going. Now let me outta these cuffs sunshine.

 

[The Good Cop reluctantly does what he is told. And Matthews digs a bill out of his wallet and throws it on the table, a $1 bill]

 

Ry:

There you go fellas, go split a cup of coffee or something...

 

[With that Matthews walks out of the interrogation room with his cell phone in hand, then through the precinct and out to the steps where Ty Walker and Sam Horry await...]

 

[The End For Now...]

 

[Basically To Be Continued, bitches.]

 

[and...cut.]