Vint's initial glance revealed a door opened to the right, just a couple rooms down from his. "Shiet." The pimp murmured quietly, immediately tucking his head back in. If this was a game, a billion dollars was on the line, he wasn't going to be the only one going after the single prize. Moving through the menu, he looked at the map that he had displayed on the PDA. Eyeballing it quickly, Vint has estimated this place was decent sized building. "Gotta be a'hell ofa place than." Looking up, his hatted head poked out the door again, eyes shifting about, gathering his immediate surroundings. What lay outside, matched perfectly with the map on his little PDA - well, close enough anyway. "So this here contraption is uh-dahted. Gewd." Almost nonchalantly, he began to walk down the hall to his right, his heavy boots clomping down the tiled surface. Meanwhile, crafty fingers shifted his PDA's tabs once more, returning the to the "Rules" section. If anything, any time there had been a contest back home at the annual state fair, there had always been bullshit rules. "Ain't gonna happan this taim." The pimp muttered as his eyes cast over the rules, consciously looking up every few seconds from the screen to the world around him - hunting gators had drilled this into him. That, or living on the streets of Miami. Either way, he wasn't going to be caught off guard.

Reading was never his strong suite, but Vint managed. For the first couple rules, he understood. Fuck with the collar, besides playing it by their rules, it would end in death. [i]'Goddurn communists.' [/i]

"..."

Suddenly, movement from the opened door caused Vint to look up sharply. Someone was there and Vint reacted:

If there was an outward swinging door (and it was blocking the view of the unknown person emerging from the room), Vint would have only barely heard movement. But, being an experience gator hunter (or a hunter in general), Vint had learned to hear before seeing. This was no exception. Pressing himself quickly against the only cover that was available, the redneck found himself directly behind the door that belonged to the room. Assuming that the person behind that door wasn't stupid, Vint knew that he had been seen, or at least heard, so he did only thing anybody would do in that situation: he called out.

"Now, see here fraind. Ah don't want no trouble, y'hear? You jist go back in to yo' room and close tha dour, and we kin jist move ahlong like nuthin' happind." 

However, if there was no such luck for Vint, and full vision was cast for both this stranger and Vint, the redneck was only left with one other option: "How'dchu do, fraind?" A gloved hand tipped the corner of his baseball cap, a smile equivalent to a charming snake stretching across his face, "Fain day to go gallivantin' daown a creepeh hall-way, eh?" A friendly chuckle slipped from his lips...