the foxy lady

[frisco 0]

A long black limo slowly makes its way down the barren streets in Pawtucket Rhode Island. The limo is driving particularly slow as the driver appears to be lost. It’s after midnight so it’s quite dark out, yet the illuminated license plate is easy to read: FRISCO.

The limo slowly pulls up to the drive through at “Weiner-ama”, a local hot dog emporium well known in Rhode Island. As Frisco lowers his window a voice comes over the speaker box.

“Welcome to Weiner-ama, what would you like on your wiener?”

Frisco is slow to respond. The thought of consuming “hotdogs” from some hole in the wall joint in Hicksville Rhode Island does not appeal to him. However getting good directions to the Foxy Lady, Rhode Islands premiere gentleman’s club, does. As the difficult decision plays through his mind a smile crosses his face.

“I’ll take half a dozen—weiners—three jumbo cokes, and directions to the foxy lady”

 

 

About half an hour later the limo pulls into the Foxy Lady. It’s close to one yet the lot is packed as always. Frisco is the first to leave the limo. He is followed by a less than impressed Candace as Lobo crawls out of the back seat still holding his box of six partially eaten hot dogs. He casually tosses the box to the ground and lets out a deep belch.

Lobo: Weiners !

Candace glances at Lobo who has a large glob of ketchup prominently displayed on his chin. She points it out to him and he quickly wipes it off on his coat sleeve. As Candace rolls her eyes in disbelief Lobo smiles innocently.

Frisco: Let’s roll

 

Inside the club Frisco and Lobo are enjoying the show. Candace for her part is trying to catch some rest, skill exhausted from the match against the Paladian. She was making an extra effort to try to ignore the lap dancer performing for Lobo who was sitting right next to her. The waitress brings over their drinks. Although Candace had initially requested a coke Frisco quickly over ruled her and ordered three White Russians. This was a night of celebration and she would not be wasting it on Coca-Cola. Frisco himself was a fairly heavy drinker and one could only imagine what Lobo was capable of drinking.

Frisco: The good news is you won. The better news is that you got a match on the next pay per view. I think we should drink to that.

The three toast their white Russians as Frisco’s voice takes on a more serious edge.

Frisco: But that only means that you’re going to have to do a hell of a lot better next week than you did tonight. I mean you won and all, but basically I thought you were awful out there.

Candace drops her eyes to the floor as she realizes she is about to be read the riot act. Lobo dismisses the dancer as he turns his attention to the conversation.

Frisco: It is vitally important that you understand that you have no margin for error. You are at a major physical advantage every time you step into the ring. Your tiny, you’re a girl, and your about as popular in this federation as Eddie Murphy at a KKK rally. When you look out at the audience half the other people want you to loose—badly. The other half want to see you carried out of a stretcher. Never forget that”

Candace takes a drink from the white Russian. Lobo looks away sensing her embarrassment.

Candace: I thought I did ok tonight. We won”

Frisco’s face contours as if he just sucked on a lemon.

Frisco: We won? If Lobo didn’t clock the Paladian they would have been scrapping your ass off the mat tonight. You’d be on the first flight back to Japan rather than going to the next PPV. You survived the match only because your opponent did as shitty as you did and you had friends outside of the ring. If you rely on that you’re going to be losing a hell of a lot around here.”

Candace puts down her drink and wishes she were invisible.

Frisco: Allow me to illustrate the numerous screw ups you did tonight. First that comes to mind was an ill timed Lion Sault. You remember that? Remember as you came down and he put his knees up and damn near broke your ribs? Also your first diamond cutter attempt, also too early. That only resulted in a quick change in the momentum of the match. Candace this guy is 250 pounds. You can’t let him dictate the pace of the match. You need to work twice as hard as him just to stand a chance. If this guy wasn’t a head case and didn’t stop to say the rosary in his match he would have taken you apart.

Candace motions to the waitress for another White Russian. It might be easier to be drunk about now.

Frisco: I’m not trying to be a dick head here, but I don’t want you to get hurt. When I say these people hate you I am being kind. Did you notice how everyone was cheering for the Paladian every time he took control of the match? Well the Paladian is a heel. He’s hated. The only reason they cheered for him is because they hate you even more than him. That is not a good thing. Have you noticed you have a match at the PPV? They have you going against a mystery opponent. You have no idea who you’re fighting. Good luck getting ready for that one. About the only thing we know is the Vegas odds for the match. You’re an underdog—a huge underdog. No one knows who you’re fighting but everyone thinks your going to loose.

Lobo looks up from his drink and notices a sexy lap dancer a few tables away.

Lobo: Boobies!

Frisco orders yet another round of White Russians. He gives another to Candace who is just starting on her second one.

Frisco: The pay per view is prime time. You can’t afford to get squashed here. It is being seen by millions of people. This is your opportunity to show everyone what you can do. You can’t afford to make any more mistakes.

Candace takes a deep breathe to regain her composure

Candace: I be ready. I no disappoint you again

Frisco downs his drink on one swig.

Frisco: The card is down south. I can tell you already the theme is going to be “God Bless America”. It will be held in an arena packed with red necks and trailer trash. By the time you get to the ring you’ll be surrounded by 20,000 drunken hillbillies. Now these guys are cowboys. Have you ever seen an Asian in a cowboy hat?

Frisco glares deeply into Candace’s pretty Asian eyes. His voice is dead serious.

Frisco: You need to be tough. If you step into that ring a pretty Asian flower you’re going to get chewed up and spit out in less than a minute. They are going to put you in there against a monster. They want you to get creamed. Nothing will boost their ratings like a squash match between a good old boy against some Asian rookie. You need to surprise them. You need to be a natural born killer in there.

Candace finished her white Russian and looks down at the Formica table. Her eyes scan the area as she glances at the sea of drunken men and naked women. The cigarette smoke stings her eyes and chokes at her throat. She doesn’t say a word as Frisco returns to his drinking. She starts on her next drink.

 

Fade out

[Ace309 0]

Nice little promo. Lobo's a bit much, imo, but the promo did a good job of illustrating the tension between Candace and Frisco, and fleshing out their interaction a little more.

[Guest Horse hockey!]

P-A-L-A-D-I-N

 

Nice promo, but your continued misspelling of this guy's nickname is irksome to no end. I'm sure it doesn't matter much to him, he doesn't seem to be around.

 

Forget I said anything.

 

Other than nice promo.

[frisco 0]

and here I was thinking all along I was spelling it correctly. Oops.