Taylor starts ripping shit up, gets the boys in a circle, and has them tackle Riggins one by one as he screams at him about understanding what's going to happen in five days. He screams and then says, with disgust, "Get up, Riggins" and then screams some more. Cut to Taylor in an interview, smoother and more in charge than he has been, like a veteran not a supplicant, and then to Street who assures the media that "we're a very good team," and then to Smash who says what's really in his heart, "Man, this is the best team. They've got me." Back to Taylor spitting on Riggins and telling the kids, "They're gonna attempt to do this to you in front of your mothers, in front of your fathers, in front of your brothers, in front of your sisters." Riggins is on the ground and Smash stands above him: "You're making us look weak." Cut to Riggins in interview: "I hate that guy." Smash: "If one person fumbles the ball, we all fumble the ball. If one person shows up to practice half-drunk, we all show up half-drunk." Taylor, quietly: "Twenty." Riggins goes down again. Smash: "We ain't got time for your games, Rig." Riggins goes down yet again and the camera jerks up to Taylor, standing calm and scary, arms crossed, "Get up, son. Get up." Guitar, guitar, credits, dun dun.
See? The Hydra, is what I call what that shit just was.
Okay. I just went in the restroom and recomposed myself as I had gotten a bit disheveled there for a moment.
The camera speeds past a fast food diner and then we cut inside. Hip hop plays in the background, and the camera wanders voyeuristically around the inside of the packed room. We sort of peer over some shoulders at Jason Street being interviewed yet some more. Lyla -- she of the cupcakes and brown ponytail -- is seemingly surgically attached to his side as Street just sort of boringly narrates what he is doing that very second: "Uh, this is pretty much where everybody eats. I come here, get, uh, the Aztec Burger, uh, every day," and so on. The interviewer teases him about that being his first professional endorsement, and Lyla says (her face literally shadowed by Street's shoulder in which she is nestled), "No, no way, no endorsements." Her accent is fucked. Smash, from a few booths away, calls out "I got some endorsements," and the camera swings back to show Street laughing and Tyra, a few booths behind him, tossing her hair and looking across at Smash. Smash goes on about how he's got Nike and Reebok, and how that's no conflict of interest the way "Smash does it." Yes, he talks about himself in the third person. We'll let it be for a moment. Tyra loves Smash and his smash mouth. Street shakes his head.