S.T.A.L.K.E.R: The Duel Page #2

- I told you I was different.

- Yeah, which makes me wonder,

what do you want?

Definitely not ignorant and dumb.

You're right.

I do want something from you.

But why tell you

when I can show you?

Come on.

Come on, little white boy.

What you got to lose?

Excuse me.

Where are we going?

Are all white folks this impatient?

I am.

That's a shame.

Man, how do I know you're not

taking me someplace dangerous?

So you're impatient and paranoid?

How much longer, man?

Crony, trust me when I tell you,

this is worth the wait, all right?

- All right, bro.

- Come on, man.

- Yeah!

- What's this?

This is the finest

in underground basketball.

It's a tournament.

A duel, to be exact.

What's a duel?

It's a two-and-two game

played for money.

The amount changes each time.

Game! How much

you eager to lose, boy?

Then the stakes are set.

Come at me with that nonsense.

Real men don't play

for less than 100.

- Okay.

- Bet.

What's the game play to?

First one to 21 wins.

You see, there's just

one more thing.

Calling fouls only slows things down.

That's why each team

only gets to call one foul,

and only one per game.

Oh, I know that guy.

Sucker.

Yeah, that's Maurice.

He never loses.

And legend has it

that he's never called a foul,

no matter how hard he's hit, ever.

Trust me, you don't

wanna know that guy.

Come on.

Why'd you show me that?

I just wanted to give you a taste.

All in due time,

new white boy.

Yo, what up, J-Bow?

I got it right now...

guns, drugs, chicks, whatever.

- Just let me know, all right?

- I'm good.

Yeah. I'll see you later, though.

- Easy.

- For sure. Yeah, yeah.

- Yo, where we going?

- Probably the only place crazier

than a duel tournament...

my house.

Mama! Mama, I'm home!

Juli! Juli! Juli!

What it is, Ang.

Happy to see me?

- I want a piggyback ride.

- Machine's out of order.

Go color something,

you little brat.

That's my little sister Angelica.

My mom's got this thing

with Spanish names.

My real name is Julio,

and Angelica,

and then she named

my little brother Rodrigo,

but everybody calls him Rody.

No-Iook pass!

He takes it in the air!

Slam dunks!

Rody, what did I tell you

about using my basketball?

You weren't using it.

That don't mean you can, little man.

But I don't got a ball.

You want a ball?

Go steal one.

But leave mine alone.

I'm gonna have 100 balls

when I'm famous.

I'm gonna be better

than Allen Iverson, Dwyane Wade,

and Michael Jordan combined.

And I'm gonna record myself

making all the best plays.

Whatever. Keep dreaming,

you little shrimp.

Mama! Mama!

Mama!

Quit all your shouting, Julio.

This place is the size of a matchbox.

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