Champions

So, you know, I read this really interesting article

about a man whose dog dragged him out of a flaming gym.

Matthew, I love you, but we're not getting a dog.

Okay? We couldn't even keep a Roomba alive.

We shouldn't have given it that beer.

It was funny, though.

Hi, welcome to Champions.

You give us a mere 15 years,

we'll give you the body you always wanted.

I'm looking for a Vincent Cook.

You're looking at him.

Whoops! Now you're looking at me.

I'm his brother, Matthew, okay?

That's Vince, the guy you were just looking at!

- He knows. - You slept with my wife.

And now you're gonna pay.

- Whoa! - Oh my God!

Please don't kill him, just shoot him in the shoulder

if you have to, or better yet, the penis!

Or not! Okay? Hey, sir, listen, please.

I'm sure there's been some kind of mistake, right, okay?

Uh, what... what's your wife's name?

- Debra Kemp. - Okay.

So there hasn't been a mistake.

Do you have any final wishes?

Please don't shoot him.

He's got so little to live for already.

What?

I mean, he's had so many tough breaks.

He was the star baseball player of our high school team.

Full ride to college,

and he lost it all through bad decisions.

Okay, there were some things that were out of my control.

The economy was in the pits, also Iraq,

and then, yeah, some alcohol, some weed, but like...

Wait, you were an athlete?

How? I mean, your brother on the other hand,

I mean, his body's smoking.

I mean, I'd get it if my wife slept with him.

Thank you.

- That was so nice. - What is happening right now?

But what is the point of killing this guy, huh?

Broken dreams, deteriorating body,

no dog.

In a lot of ways, keeping him alive is worse punishment,

don't you agree?

Scientifically, we're all deteriorating, right?

But yes, there's some truth to what he's saying.

Huh. I mean, I guess, if you put it that way,

my cheating wife and incurable dandruff aren't really anything

- compared to your whole deal. - Exactly!

Well, I'm gonna head out.

I got five other guys I gotta confront this morning.

- Five. - Yeah.

Okay, good luck with that.

You know what would've protected us in that situation?

We're not getting a dog.

Damn it!

So, sign these papers, and it's official.

Your gym is sold.

I can't believe I'm really doing it, you know?

Finally, I can just let go and disappear.

Sir, if you're going to kill yourself,

I'm obliged to tell the police.

No, no, no, I'm not... I'm not disappearing like that, okay?

I'm moving to Florida.

Yeah, I've just led a life of letting people down,

and need a change of scenery, you know?

No, I do not.

Wow, I picked the wrong person to confide in.

I usually confide in my wife and son.

Do you have anything like that?

Can I just say what an honor it is to be here

at the Manhattan Academy for the Performing Arts?

I have dreamt of this moment ever since my humble beginnings

in the horrible town I was raised in.

It's not that bad. It's Cleveland.

LeBron James, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame,

very vibrant Polish music scene, actually.

No, I wasn't criticizing.

You know, you did the best you could

with your limited resources.

She's a single mom.

Mm-kay, there is a tragic overtone to this

that I just want to refute. He has a nice life.

We have a panini press.

- She's my rock. - Okay.

All I'd asked was "Did you find the building okay?"

Anyway, I unfortunately have terrible news.

Something has happened to Mr. Stevenson,

the dean of students who recruited you.

He was caught in a sting.

Ooh. Mm. Like a hand in the cookie jar sting?

More like a Jared from Subway type sting.

Oh, my God!

The point is because he admitted you,

and offered to let you live in his home,

we're reevaluating his decisions,

and therefore need you to re-audition

for the admissions board tomorrow.

- What? - I have to audition again?

I don't have a place to live!

Can I live with you? I can fit in a suitcase.

He really can, a carry-on even.

I mean, what are we supposed to do?

Just one more signature, and I'm on my way to Florida.

Hey, you don't think I'm doing the wrong thing

by not telling Matthew, do you?

I forget who that is.

Chester, it's my brother.

I've mentioned him several times.

In my defense, you've mentioned numerous people

in your rationalization about why

you're abandoning friends and family.

Okay, it's not a rationalization,

it's just what I'm telling myself to feel better

about my secretive behavior.

- Okay? - Mm-hmm.

Okay.

All right.

Here's your form.

- This is your copy. - Cool.

- Now, watch out for gators. - Yep.

Keep marshmallows in your pocket.

They think they're turtle eggs.

All right, thank you.

- And good luck to you. - Thank you.

Well, good-bye, dreams!

Because now, I'm gonna have to return to Ohio,

go back in the closet,

marry an ugly girl from my high school,

and run a pashmina cart at the mall.

Hey, come here.

I am so sorry that this happened.

But if you can nail that audition tomorrow,

I think I know a place where you can live.

The Plaza? Like Eloise?

Obviously not.

Okay, come on, let's go.

Hey, Matthew,

I gotta talk to you about something important.

Yeah, of course, we can handle anything.

As long as we're together.

Emotionally together.

No, physically, like living and working together.

Okay, um...

I think we can both agree that having this gym

for the past 13 years is not what we planned.

I agree completely.

- Really? - It has exceeded my plans!

And frankly, all of my wildest dreams.

Hey!

I need to shower at your guys' place tomorrow.

I'm making sports drink in my tub.

As long as I drink 30 gallons a week,

it pays for itself.

That's smart, Ruby.

Yeah, you can use our shower.

Uh, can you give us a second?

Oh, I see.

The two people with private offices

take over our only break room.

You know, that's some real one-percenter crap!

Guess I'll go eat my pad see ew in the alley.

I'm sorry, Vince.

Well, well, well.

I guess you have time to sit and chat

with your white brother,

but not to text back your Indian girlfriend

if we're on for movie night.

Oh, yeah, Britney, sorry, uh...

I'm just dealing with some stuff

but I'll meet you at the theater.

This is why we work.

My entire family was so wrong about you.

We are so blessed to work with such strong women.

God, I hope nothing ever changes.

But why would it?

Yeah.

Mom, I'm starving.

Why are we at a gym in Brooklyn?

Is this another stop in your "Sex and the City" tour?

No, they never came to Brooklyn

unless they were dating a loser.

Speaking of which,

I need to talk to someone, all right?

So I just want you to wait here, and, um...

Oh, read this "Men's Health."

And try not to get too turned on... damn!

- I'll be right back. - Okay.

Oh, thank God, food.

Oh, hey, private office. What are you doing?

Give me that.

Who are you?

Do you want my real name or my stage name?

Your real name.

Miguel Blanchett Almodovar.

Your real name.

Michael Patel.

Well, Michael Patel, congratulations.