A Beginner's Guide to Endings Page #4

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- Twenty.

- Thousand?!

I don't got that!

- Really?!

Puffy vest?

Whiff o' Old Spice?

Prison-grade tattoos?

Here I had you pegged

as old money for sure.

- No f***in' way you're makin' 20 grand

off this fight.

- Well, don't be daft, lad.

Of course not.

But I'll make a far sight more

in two years' time

when an undefeated Tank Boy,

in on the fix,

Ioses to an unranked pug

no one's ever heard word of.

Jesus! I got the chessboard out,

you're playin' Bingo!

Okay, boys, take a break.

- Fine, fine, fine.

Just... just keep the management out of this.

I'll... I'll find the money.

- Sure you will.

You hop on your unicorn,

you go shake down a leprechaun.

See you later.

- I'm approaching 1 90.

From the north.

What about me?

- As a fighter?

- Yeah.

- You're a little past

your prime, my friend.

No one'd pay to see that.

- You're just padding his record.

Plus you get this back.

- Mm...

Tank Boy! C'mere!

Meet a legend.

You ever heard tell of Nuts White?

- No.

Why they call you Nuts?

- Just a nickname.

- No!

Eddie White. Twelve and 0.

Never fought above the undercard.

Never touched the canvas.

But he's not called Nuts

on account ofhis pugilistic talents.

No!.

But on account

of every fighter in the country

is magnetically drawn

to punching him in the balls.

Undefeated.

And all disqualifications

for shots to the cherries, huh?

Everybody smells the fix.

Everybody knows his old man...

is riggin' his bouts.

And now old Nuts...

can't even line up a bout of diarrhea.

Until today.

- So I'm fighting?

- You're fighting.

Let's get back at it, boys!

- Yeah. Ahem.

- This is AT&T.

You have a collect call from--

Wait. Do I press...

Do I press a 0 now?

- You have 63 cents in your account.

Press 1 to accept the charges.

- Ma. Hey, uh... talk quick.

I'm almost out of minutes.

- Honey! I am so sorry.

I just heard about Duke.

Wendell and I were at a meditation retreat

and we just got back this morning,

and I'm on the next plane.

Is everyone okay?

I-I can't get anyone at the house.

- It's... it's been a crazy day.

- Oh, sweetheart. I know you and Duke

had your ups and downs,

but your father was many things,

some of them good,

some of them not so good,

but he loved you boys,

and if the could--

- Out of minutes.

- Oh, f***.

- Well... I'm getting married.

- Come to the right place, then.

I'll talk you out of it.

- No, no. I, uh, don't need your blessing.

I just want the ring.

- Who's the lucky lady?

- Miranda.

- Is she aware of your intentions?

- Uh, no.

I haven't seen her for years, so, no.

- Okay, you just got

some pretty terrible news

and I'm guessin' you're still drunk.

So I'm inclined to believe

that you might not be thinking

all that clearly at the moment.

You're forcing my hand here, okay?

My hand is forced.

My office.

The Wall of Fame.

- F***, she's married.

- And then some.

- She's on her second marriage?

- Actually she's a three-peat.

It's not what you think, either.

She didn't get one divorce.

They died.

All of 'em.

Now, her first husband, he got shot.

Sure, they called it a hunting accident,

but two in the head?

Ten in the groin?

The second husband died

the day after they separated.

This time they called it driver error.

I don't know how many errors

a fella could make in the trunk of a car.

And the third fella, he didn't make it

through the honeymoon.

No one knows what happened to him.

Well... most of him, anyway.

Now, I'm not saying

she killed 'em, but...

somebody should slap a warning label

on that gal.

Do you get the moral of the story?

- Think I do.

- Good.

- She's single.

Thanks for the ring.

- Yeah.

Thanks for the car keys.

Can't let you go, buddy.

- Fine.

- Don't break the window.

That's your car?

Wow. What, did you carjack a beautician?

- It's a rental.

Believe in signs, Pal?

- I believe in not marrying the girl

who invented the Body Shop.

- Duke wills me a wedding ring

on the day

that I find out I'm gonna die.

That is a sign. Alright?

I don't wanna die alone.

Not like Duke.

I'm settling down.

- I-I think not being like Duke

is a great idea,

so stop whoring around, okay?

But...

n-not Miranda.

Th-that-that's... reckless, okay?

And that's more like Duke than anything.

- Reckless, huh?

Gonna break the window

and try to hotwire the car

if you don't give me the keys.

- I know you will.

- Thank you.

My second hug today.

Hey.

- Hey. What's up with the car?

Coaching a f***ing women's softball team?

- It's a rental.

Her name's Cindy and I love her.

What are you doing?

- Gonna do something stupid.

- Oh, me too. You'd think we're related.

- Yeah.

Say hi to Miranda for me.

- What? How do you know that?

- C'mon. I know everything you're gonna do

before you do it.

- Uh, no, you don't.

- Yes, I do.

- Okay. I'm thinking of a person right now.

- Don't be stupid.

- Actor. Famous!

- C'mon. Billy Dee Williams.

- Ugh, I hate you.

- No, you don't.

So...

Iooks like I need 20 grand

or I'm getting murdered tonight.

- What the hell is wrong with this family?

You can't dust 'em off.

- Yeah? And I can't raise 20 grand

by tonight, so, uh...

...where's my robe?

- Anytime you deal with Fitz,

you're gonna end up bloody

and a few dollars short, Nuts.

You can't fight.

- What am I supposed to do? Okay?

You haven't seen this Tank Boy kid.

It is like his mother... f***ed a tractor.

Best-case scenario..

Juicy gets seriously injured.

- Will you listen to me? You can't fight!

- Yeah? And I let Juicy fight,

I'm no better than Duke.

Fixin' fights, lyin', cheatin'--

- No... if you fight, you will die.

- Yeah? I dunno if you heard the news,

but it's happening anyway.

- Do you wanna die a few months

down the road, maybe a year,

or do you wanna die tonight?!

- What are you talking about?

- Alright...

I promised your father

I wouldn't tell you this.

- Tell me what?

- You remember Detroit?

- Yeah.

- Well, there's a shitload

you don't know about Detroit.

- Really? What's to know about Detroit?

After Detroit, they weren't gonna call me

Nuts anymore, right?

You remember the new name?

- Eddie "The Power" White.

- Eddie "The Power" White!

# Let me hear you say it

Ho

I lined up that fight

with John "The Baptist" myself,

so Duke couldn't run his old grift.

Punching another man's junk is pretty much

like gay marriage to a guy like him.

Better still?

Jesus freaks never take bribes.

- Duke probably saved your life that night.

- Did he?

- When I tell my son to oil up

and he smears on the Italian dressing,

I can't help but think

he's 30% retarded.

- Nah, it's genius, 'cause his brain's

telling him "time to fight,"

but his nose is saying "time to eat".

Confusin' him.

Bam, bam, bam!

- 40%.

- These the new trunks?

- Oh, oh, oh!

- Did you ever ask yourself

why they were always punching you

in the groin instead of the noggin'?

Or why the other guy

didn't just take a dive?

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