(The shots opens up on Scott Taylor and Steve "Hardkore" Waltman walking down a Boston street.)
Scott: Now will you tell me why we're in Boston.
Steve: I told you its a surprise.
Scott: I need to know now!
Steve: Ok, since it was your birthday last week and I didn't give you a present I thought that I'd take you to baseball's opening day.
Scott: Steve, you have a match tomorrow night!
Steve: What?
Scott: Sunday night Ricochet is in Rio De Jeneiro, and you have a match.
Steve: I can't believe this, how could I forget?
Scott: I have no idea, besides the game is in New York, not Boston.
Steve: Flying son of a flip, I can't believe this. I need a drink. We better find a bar.
Scott: Ok, but we have to leave first thing in the morning if we're going to make it on time.
Steve: Fine.
(Scott and Steve walk down the street looking for a bar. They decide to stop at a place called The Irish Pub.)
Steve: Irish pub, I'm Irish. Let's go in.
(Scott and Steve push open the door and walk in. Inside the lighting is dim. There are five or six people at the bar having a drink, There is a bar tender washing glasses behind the bar. There are some booths against the wall and a few tables in the middle of the floor, but no one is at them. Steve quickly surveys the scene and notices a piano in the corner.)
Steve: Oh my good lord, a piano.
(Steve asks the bartender if he can play the piano. The bartender gives him a nod, and Steve sits down at the bench.)
Scott: Are you sure you want to do this?
Steve: Of course, I love to play the piano, besides it seems a little depressing in here and I think that this would liven it up a little bit.
Scott: I think I'll need a drink now.
(Scott walks up to the bar and orders a drink. Steve begins to play the piano. After a few missed notes, he stops and cracks his knuckles and starts to play again. More missed notes and a voice with an English accent is heard...)
Voice: Will ya stop the f****** playing.
(Steve stops, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and continues to play. More missed notes and the voice is heard again.)
Voice: Stop the f****** playing ya f****** wanker.
(Scott turns to the guy sitting next to him.)
Scott: Who is that guy?
Guy: That's Tommy something or other he came...
Tommy: That's Tommy Wholigan you f****** wanker, can't you remember my f****** name you f****** geezer?
Guy: Sit your ass down Tommy before I beat it. He came in here on St. Patrick's Day and I've seen him every day since.
Scott: Where's he from?
Guy: Scottland or Finland, one of those.
Tommy: I am f****** Tommy Wholigan from f****** England, you yankee bastard.
Guy: Did you just call me a yankee?
Tommy: I f****** did.
Guy: In Boston Mass, you just called me a yankee?
Tommy: I f****** did.
Guy: Tommy, I'll give you one last chance before I kick your ass.
Bartender: Jimmy, just leave him alone.
Jimmy: I've put up with his crap for a whole week and I've just about had enough. Come on Tommy call me a f****** yankee one more time.
Tommy: You're a f****** yank...
(Steve jumps up from behind the piano and gets between the two.)
Steve: Hold on guys, there's no reason to get violent here.
Jimmy: There sure as hell is.
Tommy: F*** yes there is this yankee bastard is thre....
(Jimmy shoves Steve out of the way and tackles Tommy to the floor. Jimmy begins to punch Tommy in the face as Steve picks himself up off the floor. Some of the other guys try to pull Jimmy off, but he shoves them out of the way. Steve jumps on top of Jimmy and pulls him off of Tommy. Tommy jumps to his feet and begins to kick Jimmy in the face. Some of the other guys tackle Tommy and begin to beat him. Scott grabs Steve and pulls him out of the mess.)
Scott: We got to get out of here.
Steve: We can't leave him here.
Scott: What are you going to do?
Steve: I'm gonna go get him.
(Steve begins to throw guys off of the pile.)
Scott: Steve your gonna get yourself hurt.
(Steve takes one of the guys and throws him over the bar. He then picks another one up and throws him into a table. He grabs Tommy and through him over his shoulder. Jimmy gets up and tries to tackle Steve but he kicks Jimmy in the face and turns to run out of the bar. As he gets toward the door the bartender yells to him...)
Bartender: He you forgot to pay.
(Steve reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a twenty dollar bill and puts it on the bar.)
Steve: Keep the change
(Steve walks but through the door, as he gets to the doorway Tommy tells him to stop.)
Tommy: Hold on, I got something to say. All you f****** wankers can pissoff, you f****** sons a bitches you can...
Steve: Ok, that's enough lets go.
(Scott hails a cab and the three get in. Inside the cab.)
Steve: You got yourself in a mess there.
Tommy: I f****** had it under control. You didn't have to step in.
Steve: And miss out on the fun, why not.
Scott: You see Tommy, Steve is crazy.
Tommy: Ahhh, a fightin' bloke he is.
Scott: You could say that.
Steve: So where you off to Tommy?
Tommy: I got no idea, I came here for some fun and a title shot but it fell through, those f****** wankers.
Steve: What kind of title?
Tommy: CWA, Championship Wrestling Association heavyweight title.
Steve: So your a wrestler?
Tommy: Yup.
Steve: So you got no where else to go?
Tommy: No, I guess not.
Steve: I'm a wrestler too, I'm heading Rio De Jeneiro for a match tomorrow night. You want to come along?
Tommy: Sure. I got nothing else to do.
Steve: Maybe I can get you a job too.
Tommy: As a wrestler, you don't work for a bunch of wankers do you?
Steve: No, they treat you pretty good there.
Tommy: Sounds like a great place.
Steve: It is. Hey I never caught your name.
Tommy: Tommy Wholigan from Chiswick, England.
Steve: Steven H. Waltman for East Kruk, Wisconsin.
Tommy: What does the "H" stand for?
Steve: Hardkore.
Tommy: Interesting middle name.
Steve: Yup.
(The cab continues its trip as the two talk. The shot fades away as the cab drives away.)
