It’s almost time for the First Blood match and James Best is stretching his shoulders in the locker room, a pair of space-gray BeatsByRob headphones fitted over his ears.  James turns his head to the camera with a quick glance, going about his business anyway and picking up a thickly stacked dumbbell, heaving it with both hands out in front of him.  The camera stays stationery, with an ever so brief flash of Mike Lamar awkwardly standing by and Lamar gestures to move along with a cutthroat gesture when a thin  rough-looking man comes out of nowhere with both fingers up like this.



"Hi there… see this sign, this is my way of saying do not disturb you greasy looking prick.  Who are you?!"

The man stands between the camera and James Best behind him, his mouth curled into an almost permanent scowl at the corner, his eyes ablaze with intensity, you could tell he was a man who was not fucking around.

"Well?!"

The man’s eyes shift from Mike back to the camera, then back to Mike, Lamar’s hand beginning to shake.

"Well… uhh.. I’m-"

"Uh… UHH… Uhhh!!  Listen to yourself, you have a camera and a microphone and you have absolutely shit to say to me.  Look at you, stammering and stuttering what are you five?  You’re a disgrace… a disgrace with no balls."
 
The man’s eyes shift to the cameraman.

"Who are you."

Mike looks over to the cameraman, extending his hand out to give him the microphone when the man swats it away.

"You was actually going to let him do your job wasn’t you, you sniveling worm … NO BALLS!"

The man grabs the microphone.

"Fine then prick.  My names Saul, Saul Ledgett, one big-dick lawyer motherfucker.  Fuck it, here’s my card I’m not shaking your hand."

‘Saul’ pulls a card out of his jacket pocket and flicks it into Mike Lamar’s eyes. The interviewer screaming a shrill "ARGH?!" backing away.

"NO BALLS!!!"

Mike Lamar stumbles and staggers with his hand over his left eye, blinking back at Saul with the other.

"Jesus, are you crazy??!"

Saul smiles.

"Oh I’m more than crazy … I’m a god damn lawyer whereas you sir, are the crazy one, you are interfering in the strenuous training exercise of my client, James Best, who does not wish to speak with you hockey pucks in the first place!!!"

"I’m just doing my job!!"

Saul backs away, snorting and fuming, ripping his jacket off one arm after the other in a huff and puff.

"Yet at the same time you are potentially jeapordising the job of my client by deliberately distracting him during his training.  If he so much as sprains his ankle I will have so many documents drawn up the papercut alone will slice your little peanut cock off… and then you know what you’ll have?!!!"

Mike shakes his head.

"No balls and no cock! Now get out!"

James begins to wrap tape around his fingers, ignoring the dispute as the door closes.

"NO BALLS!!!"

And the show goes on.