Never Back Down 2 Page #2

at all costs.

I'll think about it.

The swelling's gone.

But if your retina detaches any more,

you could go completely blind in that eye.

Now your injury is caused

by receiving too many blows to the head.

The symptoms won't heal

without a medical procedure.

Well, I mean, then all I need is surgery, right?

-Then I can fight again?

-I'm afraid not.

Well, I mean, I won't tell anyone.

-You can't tell anyone either, right?

-Zack, I'm sure this is atough blow,

but it's not as tough as the one

that takes your eyesight.

Your career as a boxer is over.

Oh, my gosh, girl, these guys are so hot.

I know.

Yeah, girl.

MMA is what boxing wishes it could be.

I know, right? Ground and Pound, baby.

These guys could have me

any day of the week.

I know. I know, right?

What are you guys watching?

Where's lVlom at?

Look, I had to do it, okay, sweetie?

We need this money.

-But, Mom, I just...

-We can talk about this later.

-I don't...

-No. Go home, Tim.

Hey, Stokes. Should I be worried, man?

-What?

-it's gotta hurt, huh?

Your dad leaves your mom for another dude?

You think that sh*t's hereditary?

That's it! You're done for the day!

You're done, Stokes!

Don't set foot in my gymnasium again!

What?

I was looking into

entering this Beatdown thing.

Did you f***ing tell him?

What makes you think I have anything

to do with that sh*t?

You did. Just now.

F***! Okay, come in.

Come on, come on.

Well, you obviously don't go here.

How'd you find me?

Comments, man, on the Orlando videos.

You're semi-famous.

And you ain't that hard to find.

So you two wanna fight?

Either one of you ever mix it up, MMA style?

I box. Or used to.

AAU, All City.

Wrestling champ. State.

Dudes, chill.

Okay, I can't just put any Tom's hairy dick

in the cage.

I've got customers to please,

aficionados of the savage science.

My fighters gotta have moves.

Don't worry. I got moves.

-So do I.

-Yeah? Show me.

Let's get some!

Nice.

The TV. The TV.

All right.

All right.

All right, all right, all right, all right, get off!

Chill! Chill!

I like the passion. You both have heart.

Reminds me of a boy

I brought up back in the day.

But, dudes, this is mixed martial arts.

It's about boxing, wrestling,

Brazilian jiu-jitsu, judo, Muay Thai.

You gotta be hip to all the disciplines,

not just one or two of 'em.

You wanna be the best,

you gotta take out the best.

And in order to do that,

you gotta learn from one of the masters.

Who? Point us in the right direction.

Well, lots of clubs around here

are run by posers and wannabes.

You boys need someone

who's been in the soup. The cage.

A true warrior with the scars to prove it.

A name, Max. Give us a name.

Case Walker. Former collegiate wrestler.

Kyokushin black belt, trained jiu-jitsu

in Brazil with the Machado family.

One of the most fully loaded fighters

on the planet.

And I guarantee you, a day with this guy

is like a month anywhere else.

That's if he decides to take you on.

Well, how come I've never heard of him?

Yeah, me either.

You guys ever hear of Fedor?

Anderson Silva?

Or Overeem before they steamrolled

everyone in their path?

Believe me, those guys have heard of Case.

Where do we find this guy?

-What?

-Are you Case?

You wouldn't even ask me that sh*t

if you didn't already know.

Why don't you answer my question?

What?

As in, motherf***er, what do you want?

Look, I'm Nlike, and he's Zack.

-We wanna train with you, Mr Walker.

-Why?

-'Cause we heard you're the best.

-No, no, no, no, no.

Why would I teach you? Do I know you?

You kin to me? I owe you a favour?

We wanna fight in the Beatdown.

-Max said that you're the best...

-Max?

You tell that little wannabe Dana White,

next time he sends a couple of b*tches

over to train with me,

he gonna have some damn problems.

Now, get the f*** outta here.

Hey. I ain't no b*tch, man.

You ain't too smart either.

What about you?

Man, I don't even like this guy.

But I ain't gonna let him go out like that.

You all got heart.

You got money?

How much?

This week, $20 each,

five-pound bag of potatoes,

and you gotta wash Daisy.

Daisy?

My house.

I'll try you out for the day.

But real talk. Our deal is I teach you.

You pay me in blood, sweat and money.

And I don't teach you what you want.

I teach you what you need.

And I never teach any two people

the same way.

Now what you take from here

becomes yours to do with as you wish.

Now, come as often as you want,

or don't come at all.

I won't expect a card at Christmas either way.

Let me see.

So I got a boxer and a wrestler.

All right, Mr Boxer.

You're gonna start by giving me

Sprawl? Man, I don't know...

My bad. I forgot to mention, shut the f*** up.

I don't even wanna hear your voice.

And I don't make mistakes.

You do what I say, or get the f*** out.

You feel me?

All right, Tim, give Mr Boxer 100 sprawls,

followed by 100 front kicks.

Au right?

Go.

All right, IVlrWrestler,

I got somethin' special for you.

I want you to punch this piece of paper.

Now, your punch has to be perfectly straight

and accurate.

Use the first two knuckles. Watch.

Make a hole in the centre of the paper.

You don't get it done,

you don't move on to the next technique.

Go.

Hey! Don't you have a home?

You ain't ready for that technique.

Come back tomorrow.

And you owe me

a new composition notebook.

Black.

No, no, no, stop, stop, stop.

No. Try it again.

All right, good.

Nice hat, dude.

F***!

Man, where's this dude at?

Hey, if it's too long of a wait,

why don't you stop your bitchin'

and leave, hotshot?

So, dude, what's your deal?

How'd you end up training with Case?

How come you're not in the Beatdown?

I don't have to fight like some caged animal

to prove I'm a man.

What you tryin' to say?

I didn't try, I believe I said it.

Yo. Hey, chill, man.

I'd like to give you a personal facelift, too.

We got reason to be here, fellas.

Unlike some people I know.

Is that supposed to be directed at me?

Yeah. What are you gonna do about it,

Kurt Cobain?

I'm just sick of you ridin' me, all right?

That's not what your mother said.

Hey! Justin!

You gonna let him talk

about your mama like that?

Punch his ass in the face.

Or better yet, do Flounder Three on his ass,

like we worked on.

That's got to be the worst role model

since Sweep the Leg, man.

Yeah, and what's Flounder Three?

I don't know.

This dweeb ain't gonna do sh*t.

Got dropped on your ass, dude.

You all right?

-Are you crying?

-What's up, bros?

You guys are like a tight-knit unit now,

this is great.

Man, f*** that, that was a cheap shot.

No, Zack, come on, man,

that was even called out.

I think it was called the Flounder Three, man.

No hard feelings, all right?

Smoke and Thunder, baby.

Deal with that sh*t.

-Come on, man, chill out.

-Hey, I barely even touched him.

Dude.

It's cool, right, buddy?

Right on, guys. Anybody seen Case?

-Yo, Case.

-I'll be out in a minute.

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