Chandler

"Pay me my money," I scream, "that son-of-b*tch just scored a touchdown."

It's Thursday night, and I'm watching football at Rick's house. Usually, it's the three of us, but Ben had a late meeting. So, as usual, we bet a couple of grand on the teams playing. I'm typically on the losing end of the bets.

My luck just changed.

Rick sits next to me on the couch, staring off in the distance for most of the game.

When I flop on the couch, I give him a ...