A man carrying a duffel bag, walking very slow and stiffly and constantly touching his rear end, can be seen walking to the back entrance to the Allstate Arena. Before he walks through the door, he is stopped my arena security.
???: You've got to be kidding! Again!
Security: Sir, are you Richard Jackson Jr. also known as Ricky Runn?
Runn: Yes, I'm Ricky Runn, now if you will excuse me I'd really like to get inside and sit down.
Security: We're sorry sir, but you have been placed on a suspicious persons list and I'm required to search your bag before I allow you inside.
Ricky rolls his eyes, but he hands his bag over. The guard begins to search, throwing clothes and various sundries to the ground, before he pulls out a small round pillow with a hole in the center.
Security: What is this, some sort of weapon silencer?
Runn: It's a donut. It's to sit down on because I have a sore...You know what, never mind! Can I go in now?
Security: As soon as I finish going through your bag sir.
The guard continues to rummage through the bag, throwing a box of tissues and a bottle of lotion to the ground, before pulling out a tube of unknown liquid and a pair of latex gloves.
Security: I knew it! Looks like we got some poisonous gel right here!
Ricky shakes his head before he tries to snatch the bottle, to no avail.
Runn: It isn't poisonous gel, it's just a bottle of lube. I had a, well lets just say I had incident at the airport.
Security: I'm gonna have to call this in regardless.
Runn: You know what forget it, I'm, out of here.
Ricky goes to grab the lubricant, but the security guard keeps a tight grip. The two struggle, trying to wrestle control of the lube, when finally the bottle goes flying through the air, landing some feet away. Another wrestler who was arriving for the show, doesn't see the tube and slips on it, his head bouncing off the concrete. The guard runs over, while Ricky slowly follows in a bowlegged saunter.
Security: Are you okay sir?
The man mumbles incoherently as Ricky walks up.
Runn: I know who that is. That's The Local Talent!
The Talent tries to sit up, but falls back to the ground and passes out.
Security: That's it punk. The Talent is a hero to underachievers everywhere, and you stopped him from making his return. I'm taking your ass downtown for assault. Better get that donut, cause where you are going, you are gonna need it.
The security guard places handcuffs on Ricky and calls in backup.
Ricky: Oh hamburgers.
