"...Are you insane?" Jack asks with a frown, but only a frown.  He doesn't raise the volume of his voice, though he doesn't at all hide his disbelief in his tone.  "You want Mr. Trash-Can-Lid to fighting in some street fighting tournament like I'm fucking Ryu?  What the hell is the survival rate for newbies in this kind of thing anyways?"  He as actually starting to sweat a little, and finally popped open that warm beer.  He slumps down into one of the kitchen chairs and takes a long drink.

"Alright, alright, spill.  You wouldn't be betting anything on this if you weren't rigging it in some way.  What is it?"