This is Mr. Gillors chair.
You must be our Floridian tourist.
You certainly have wonderful taste
in automobiles.

Yeah, though it's
kind of a limp color.

Snowflake white.
But I figured
better a limp color...

than a limp model
like the 300.

At least
I had enough change left over...

to buy myself a proper
pair of socks.

I'm just fucking with you.
You want your seat back?

Please, feel free.
I was bored shitless anyway.

Our boxing here in Diggstown...
is not to your satisfaction, Mr...
- John Gillon.
- Nice to meet you.

- Can I be frank with you?
- Please.

It's never too satisfying knowing who
will win. You know what I mean?

Take this mamaluke
in the white trunks.

Halfway through the first round,
I know he'll be kissing canvas.

He's already done it twice.
So what do you think? Will he
kiss canvas the third time? Yes.

All right!
Guys, I'm as surprised as you are.
Believe me, that was a lucky shot.

Should we up the bet again?
We better take him
while he's still able to stand.

Always go with what you know, Frank.
My cardinal rule of gambling.

You ready for 300 a game?
Three thousand. I'll play the kid
for pink slips if he wants.

You really serious?
That truck?

Hell, yeah.
I always wanted a Corvette.

Besides, a man never bets
what he can't back up.

- Right?
- That's right.

Let's do it.
So you're saying
you think this man...

over here in the red trunks
will win this fight?

Is there an acoustical problem
in here?

I don't think
he'll win this fight.

I know he'll win this fight.
I have to split.
By the way,
I'd bet a thousand on it.

But would you bet 2,000 bucks on it?