INT. SWIMMING POOL OLYMPIC SIZED – DAY
ALBERTO CONGRESS, our boy, is struggling to finish his set of laps or whatever. This is NOT like last time. Last time he was KILLING IT. Like crazy fast swimming no one had ever been ever understanding even. Nuts.
He’s going so slow. His coach, TIM AZWEDO, is NOT impressed. He was impressed before. Not impressed at all. He doesn’t know what to say to Alberto or how to approach him. Alberto is still in the pool. He just looks so fucking weak to Tim Azwedo. Tim Azwedo just can’t take it anymore. It’s driving him crazy.
Tim Azwedo jumps in the pool and stops the swimming Alberto like how Superman would stop a train (with his arm out straight so his open hand will basically mash right into Alberto’s swimming head).
Alberto is kind of like what the fuck, man?
What the fuck, man? Is this “Cool Coach” shit? Because we told you it’s not cool.
This is not “Cool Coach” shit. I stopped doing that. Well, I shouldn’t
say that. I still do it at home because my wife thinks it’s hot.
I don’t know if his wife thinks it’s hot. Maybe it would be more dynamic is she didn’t think that. Then again, we risk giving everyone the same attitude in re: Cool Coach. I don’t want to make a decision right now.
Then what the fuck is it? I’m trying to be the best fucking American swimmer since Mark Spitz.
Note: I’m intentionally skipping Michael Phelps just to get under Phelpsy’s skin. This will drive that dude nuts!
Calm your bones and go have a Subway!
Fuck that guy.
I get it. I just think you’re overtraining. Pushing yourself to hard.
I know what overtraining is. You didn’t have to define it immediately after saying it.
I see your Uncool Coach persona is really coming along.
Hey, fuck you man.
You’re right. Just… I don’t know. Take it a bit easier.
If I was any easier, I’d be your wife!
I don’t know if that even tracks, but I also don’t give a shit. Our careers are so
intertwined right now. I have to take abuse from you.
I know that shit. You need me as much or more than I need you. Go get me a burger.
Tim Azwedo exits, knowing he has to get Alberto a burger, but also feeling like he got his overtraining message across, even if he was a bit redundant about it.
Alberto does a sad swim to the side of the pool and gets out awkwardly like people do. His muscles are so fucking sore. He is overtraining. Man.
Alberto walks over to some bleachers or whatever and lays down while he waits for his burger.
He puts a towel over his head and just listens to the sounds of the natatorium. Soothing.
Suddenly the peaces is broken by:
Alberto knows that fucking voice. It’s the drug dealer guy.
Aw, man. What the shit?
It’s me again.
I know that, motherfucker.
Alberto sits up and sees this guy, then pumps his fist because he was right; he did know this motherfucker.
You’re having some problems with your recovery, aren’t you?
No. The fuck you know anyways?
I’m not a tiger, I’m a lion. And you’re just a gazelle who’s about to get eaten by me, a lion.
You look like a lion who’s overtraining.
Alberto is so pissed! Everyone is calling him out on overtraining and they’re totally right.
I’ve got the drugs. You just say the word.
Alberto thinks about it hard. He knows no Olympian Champion has ever done drugs and he doesn’t want to be the first. But he also knows if he does the drugs, it will help his overtraining and allow him to be an Olympian Champion.
This is a difficult decision.
I’m not buying drugs from you…
The Man is bummed.
The Man brightens up.
You’ve only asked me twice and I’ve held strong. Very strong.
But I won’t be able to resist your charms a third time. Who could?
Alberto winks at the Man. The Man knows what’s up.
Alright, see you tomorrow!
Okay, well don’t be gross about it. Give it a little time to breathe.
In a couple days?
They surreptitiously do a complex handshake that will eventually evolve into their own secret handshake.
The Man vanishes (walks out of the swimming pool area).
TO BE CONTINUED…