[ FIGHT-NYC | CHAPTER 5 ] – Goes To My Head

By: Graham Clauson

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 13th Aug 2021



[ The scene starts off completely black, nothing shown on screen. ]

[ Ken ]: “Umm… Aren’t we supposed to be going to get Jeremy from the hospital? I thought he was getting released today.”

[ The visuals now cutting in cold, the camera appears to be positioned from inside of a closet, Graham pulling apart clothes on hangers, appearing to be looking for a shirt to wear. Inside the closet hangs the same women’s swimsuit that Ross’s father wore in the backstage photo Graham posted a while back. ]

[ Graham ]: “Rob offered to do it since he’s closer to him distance-wise and Ross is out of town this weekend on business. Plus, I figured you and I haven’t had any time to do anything other than work on house remodeling…am I not allowed to use the opportunity to actually do something nice and take you out to dinner?”

[ The camera cuts away from inside the closet as Graham turns his head back to look towards Ken. Cutting to where Ken is standing, he is dressed rather casually at the moment, clearly surprised by this offer. ]

[ Ken ]: “No, I wasn’t saying that!”

[ The camera cuts behind Ken, who has approached Graham from behind and wrapped his arms around him. Clearly “Mutt & Jeff” with height difference here, the camera swinging slightly around to avoid the “back of head to camera” shot. Hanging on the wall is a framed still-shot of Graham standing at a balcony surrounded by fans, holding a microphone marked “CPW” and flipping off the camera. ]

[ Ken ]: “Hey…? Is everything okay?”

[ Graham sighs in annoyance, rolling his eyes. Ken releases the grip around Graham at this, continuing the conversation with his hands slightly held up at the beginning of his sentence. Graham returns to looking through the closet until he finally pulls a shirt. Looks like somebody’s going with the classic black polo. An unoriginal and poor fashion choice from a gay man…what are the odds? ]

[ Ken ]: “Look, don’t get me wrong, it’s cool that you and Ross are getting along… But I really hope you’re not replacing your best friend with a younger model.”

[ Graham turns around, giving Ken a look of comical shock. ]

[ Graham ]: “You’re horrible. That’s what I’d be accusing you of doing with me!”

[ Graham pokes Ken in the ribs a couple times, causing him to jump slightly. ]

[ Graham ]: “I’ll eventually hit 40 and you’ll be like ‘Ew, too old’…”

[ Ken ]: “Seriously, though… You haven’t been down there to see him since you last actually went down there to see him after surgery. Are you that upset about the Ale-8?”

[ Graham begins to step past Ken, walking over to their dresser. A photo of a film set is on the dresser, with a young Graham, Ariel, Jeremy and a guy who looks like Adam Sandler in a Planters Man costume all smiling for the camera, with scattered special effects to mimic the “peanut” being crushed. Peanut butter and jelly are all around him, and a fat beagle licking the drippings off the floor around him. ]

[ Graham ]: “No, because I’m going to get him back on that, and you know it. Tonight, I want to focus on you and me. Rob’s going to check in with us once he gets Jeremy home and settled in, so we don’t have anything to worry about except going and enjoying ourselves.”

[ Graham has since pulled out a pair of socks from a drawer, and has since stepped back and sat down on their bed. Underneath the bed is a large clear plastic tote, with “ALL OF JAY’S BELTS HE DIDN’T WANT” written on the side – it’s full, the lid seems to be duct-taped down. There is another clear plastic tote beside it marked “ALL OF GRAHAM’S BELTS HE DOESN’T WANT” – it’s empty… ]

[ Graham ]: “And I just took a fourth wall shot on myself – nothing is sacred!”

[ Graham looks directly at the camera, giving it a Parmesan-level cheesy wink with a female singing along to the chorus of Wandavision’s “It Was Agatha All Along”, but changed to “It Was Fucking Graham All Along”. Nice touch. However, Ken doesn’t seem to have realized this has occurred and prods along like this didn’t just happen. ]

[ Ken ]: “Are you sure you don’t want to go get Jay instead? I’m more than happy to come with, I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

[ Graham ]: “I’m sure! Why are you so worried about it?”

[ Ken looks at Graham with his head tilted, silently communicating his lack of belief of Graham being not even relatively wanting to go see his best friend of over a decade from being released from the hospital from major surgeries as he moves towards him. Graham lifts his left leg up onto his right knee, putting one sock on. ]

[ Graham ]: “Okay, fine… We haven’t had a date night in a while, and we’ve been at each other’s throats lately with the remodeling…”

[ Ken, standing in front of Graham, reaches out and grabs Graham’s facial scruff, gently forcing him to look up at him. The bedroom curtains have tiny little patterns on them that this particular camera angle picks up to be Austin Ramsey’s different facial expressions while Graham beat him with a lacrosse stick. This looks like snuff porn turned into upholstery…what the fuck? Who the fuck was willing to get paid to do this?! ]

[ Ken ]: “I told you, that paint color has a beige undertone and it doesn’t work with the backsplash tile!”

[ Graham shushes Ken, placing his index finger on his lips. Graham is clearly being playful with this, but Ken opens his mouth and gently puts his teeth around the first joint of Graham’s finger. Graham pulls his finger away, narrowing his eyes. Ken smiling and giving Graham a mischievous eyebrow raise as he releases his grip on his beard. ]

[ Graham ]: “I am the artist of the house, I do know how colors work.”

[ Ken ]: “Then why do you not have any of it here in the house?”

[ Graham ]: “Because I don’t have the desire to do that right now. And this is why I want to get out of here for one night before I have to go back to New York and play nice with the psychopaths and higher-than-thou’s…that’s all. Once things are done out there, I can come back home and see him then. He’s already died once, so if the recovery kills him, at least I’ll had already mourned the loss…that, or he’ll be rebuilt as a fucking Android…”

[ Graham switches his ankle-over-knee from one side to the other, beginning to put on his other sock. On his left calf is a tattoo reading “STOP WRITING SOFTCORE PORN ROMANCE NOVELS!” ]

[ Ken ]: “Oh, alright… I guess I’ll go get cleaned up and let you take your trophy husband out to show off to the city…”

[ Graham ]: “Oh, that’s how it is? Somebody’s full of themselves tonight…”

[ Ken ]: “Smart bitches aren’t going to turn down a free meal.”

[ Graham ]: “It ain’t free for you when our money is joint-checking.”

[ Ken begins to walk off, making a statement under his breath – but clearly loud enough to be heard by intent. ]

[ Ken ]: “…dammit, should’ve known to keep your name off the bank account!”

[ Graham ]: “Heeeeey!”

[ Ken begins to laugh at Graham’s pathetic, pouty retort, heading out of the room. Graham repeats this, sounding more pathetic and more pouty. ]

[ Graham ]: “Heeey…”

[ Graham is sounding more pathetic, even sad… Wait, is he actually doing the “Cat Says Hey” meme? ]

[ Graham ]: “Hey…”

[ Oh my fucking God, he is… ]

[ Graham ]: “Hold on, I think I still have Ariel’s bank card…”

[ Suddenly, we hear Ken shout from out of the room from this declaration – hearing of a bat! ]

[ Ken ]: “What the fuck, Graham?!”

[ Graham smiles, almost as if this was the funniest thing to happen. He almost falls off the bed, yelling back his response so Ken hears him. ]

[ Graham ]: “I’M KIDDING! I’M KIDDING!”

[ The scene cuts to black, all visual and audio cease. ]


[ Seated in a wheelchair is the former manager of Graham, and his estranged best friend, Jeremy. Behind him pushing along is Rob Budai, uncle of Graham and brother of Matt. ]

[ Rob ]: “Car is right outside waiting…”

[ Jeremy ]: “Hey, thank you for doing this. All of the cab companies wanted me to be quarantined for 10 days before they let me get in a cab. I didn’t realize ICU was considered a super spreader arena.”

[ Rob ]: “Don’t worry about quarantine, that won’t be a problem.”

[ Jeremy ]: “Oh, great. We’re going to Florida?”

[ As Rob and Jeremy exit through the automatic sliding glass doors, Jeremy produces a Cherry Ale-8 from underneath his behind. ]

[ Jeremy ]: “And thank you for not snitching on me for having this either. ”

[ Rob ]: “I’m almost 60. You think I’m going to judge?”

[ Jeremy ]: “Maybe a little bit. You are gay…”

[ The pair reach a newer model, full-size extended cab Chevrolet Silverado with Rob stopping the wheelchair. ]

[ Jeremy ]: “When did you get this? I figured you were a Ford man.”

[ Rob ]: “Gay men don’t have car loyalty like you breeders do.”

[ Jeremy ]: “I was just saying that because your last 4 cars were Fords. Geez.”

[ Rob ]: “Well, maybe I decided it was time for a change instead of getting screwed and having to replace the thing every five years.”

[ Rob opens both his passenger door as well as the rear door. ]

[ Rob ]: “Here, I’ll help you in, we can put the wheelchair in the back.”

[ Jeremy ]: “Don’t worry about folding it up. I’m just going to go buy a Rascal in the morning.”

[ Rob is able to lift the now much lighter Jeremy up from the chair and into the truck with ease. ]

[ Rob ]: “We don’t want it to fly out of the back and get lost and/or broken.”

[ Jeremy ]: “I do.”

[ Rob ]: “Watch yourself.”

[ Jeremy ]: “Oh yeah, just let me move my butchered leg out of this immobilizer.”

[ Rob shuts the back door. Jeremy, having not spilled a single drop of his Cherry Ale-8 the entire time he was being lifted into the truck, takes a sip before noticing something strange… ]

[ Jeremy ]: “Rob, you’re not driving? Evelyn, is that you?”

[ Rob shuts the passenger door after entering the truck, then engages the truck’s child safety locks. ]

[ Jeremy ]: “If you motherfuckers take me to a fucking gay bar on drag show night again, I swear to God I’m paying somebody with stage 4 kidney disease to piss in the air conditioner units at your apartment. ”

[ The driver looks back at Jeremy…who falls silent when their face is briefly illuminated by passing car headlights. ]

[ Matt ]:Hey b0ss… You habe cancer?”

[ Matt holds up Jeremy’s six-shooter pistol, the same gun Jeremy had once pulled on him. ]

[ Jeremy ]: “…god damn, son.”

[ Rob ]: “I’m so sorry, Jeremy…”

[ Matt ]: “Oh, shut the fuck up, Robert!”

[ Matt raises his arm just enough to where he could quickly aim the barrel of the gun right at Rob and end his older brother right where he stands…but, having a moment of calm, chooses not to. ]

[ Matt ]: “Now…get his chair in the truck bed and get your sniveling ass up in here. I swear, you hit your 50’s and turned into a total pussy…”

[ Rob ]: “Fuck you, Matt!”

[ Matt ]: “No, Robert, that’s what you and Graham like to get.”

[ Jeremy ]: “Why the fuck are you calling him Robert?! You’ve never called him Robert!”

[ Matt whips his head towards Jeremy, simultaneously swinging the gun towards him in a striking motion but not connecting – be this intentional or not, only he would know. For whatever reason, Jeremy doesn’t flinch. ]

[ Matt ]: “You shut the fuck up before I send you back into that hospital with a fucking gunshot wound, leave your ass with a shit-bag… You’re lucky I need you alive, you’re a walking hex bag that needs snuffed-out anyway…”

[ Jeremy only looks down at the floorboards. ]

[ Jeremy ]: “Well, you’re the only person on the planet who needs me alive. Just leave the chair and let’s get this over with. If you needed money you could have just asked.”

[ Matt hears the mention of money, laughing hysterically. ]

[ Matt ]: “Okay, kid – fine! Robert! Leave the chair. This ain’t about money, anyway, so let’s go ahead and entertain him.”

[ Rob ]: “The only reason you’re in control here is because you have a gun.”

[ Matt ]: “And you would gladly put your mouth around it and try to swallow it like a fucking dildo. Just because you were on this earth for four more years than me don’t mean shit, and I can make it a guarantee that I’ll be on it longer than you are if you don’t get the fuck into the goddamn truck!”

[ Matt, this time, does point the gun at Rob. ]

[ Matt ]: “And yes, maybe the gun does act as a great insurance policy. So, Jeremy…”

[ Jeremy looks up finally… ]

[ Jeremy ]: “Just do what he says, Rob. It’s okay. Let’s see what problem he has that he thinks only I can fix, that he has to go this far to get me to help him fix it.”

[ Jeremy stares Rob directly in the face. ]

[ Jeremy ]: “Either shoot me or drive the truck to wherever we’re going. Since you had to wait until the one and only time you knew I wouldn’t have a gun, which is when I’ve spent the past two months locked in a place where they confiscate all weapons at the fucking door, either shoot me with my own gun or take me to the reason why you’re pointing it at your own brother and not me…”

[ Matt reaches back and shoves the barrel of the gun against Jeremy’s head in a forceful fashion. Rob recoils in horror, but unsure how to respond to what he’s experiencing – his younger brother appears to have outright lost his sanity right in front of him. ]

[ Matt ]: “The Costco Polar Bear beat you at your own game, and now I’m going to make you spill more than blood… You’re the only one, kid… You’re lucky it has to be this way…”

[ Jeremy still talks shit, even while having a gun pressed to his head. ]

[ Jeremy ]: “I see where your son gets his negotiation skills from…”

[ The scene cuts to black, silent – clearly, the cut in the scene intentionally cold. ]


[ At a local eatery, [‘plas], Ken and Graham are sitting at a table together. Clearly finished with their meal with empty plates still on the table, both men seem to be in good spirits. ]

[ Ken ]: “This was actually really nice, babe… Thank you!”

[ Graham ]: “Well, I’m glad I was able to actually give us a nice evening instead of squabbling over remodeling shit. I know we have to get back to it eventually.”

[ Ken ]: “No, you were right… We needed to ‘check-in’, we hadn’t in a bit. But…other than the fact we probably should head back home…”

[ Graham ]: “What?”

[ Ken ]: “…that Druscilla girl? Is that her name, Druscilla?”

[ Graham reels back in his seat slightly, almost recoiling. His skin flushes slightly, almost fearful. ]

[ Graham ]: “Listen… No, I ain’t thinking about her, especially that way. I tried being straight, it didn’t work out. I’m not having second thoughts. I have accepted that you are exactly what I want.”

[ Ken ]: “No, it’s not that… Um…”

[ Graham ]: “What?”

[ Ken ]: “She’s…um, here.”

[ Graham tilts his head, almost as if he didn’t completely understand what he was just told. ]

[ Graham ]: “Huh?”

[ Ken points with his dessert fork towards a not so distant table. When Graham turns his head to look, sure enough…she is indeed there, although she is hiding her face as best she can by holding a menu up to her. ]

[ Ken ]: “I didn’t want to tell you because this really was a nice evening, we needed it. I didn’t want to ruin it, but I knew you’d eventually see her when we stood up to leave. That menu is not making it discrete in any way.”

[ Graham turns back to Ken, nodding with pursed lips as if to say “I got you…”. ]

[ Graham ]: “Hmmm… Do you hear that?”

[ Ken ]: “Hear what?”

[ Graham ]: “I’m hearing a familiar melody…”

[ Graham picks up his wine glass, which is still half-full. ]

[ Graham ]: “Reggae… By white boys…”

[ Ken ]: “Please, don’t tell me you’re…”

[ Graham stands up with the wine glass, Ken standing up immediately. Unfortunately, with Graham being closer to Druscilla, Ken would not be able to stop him. As Graham walks over to Druscilla’s table, he begins humming UB40’s “Red Wine”. ]

[ Ken ]: “I should’ve kept my mouth shut…”

[ Graham begins to turn the wine glass upside down, dowsing Druscilla from over the menu she was trying to use to keep her cover. Graham drops the empty glass into her lap, looking directly into her eyes. Ken, flush and mortified, steps back as this interaction also catches the attention of other diners. ]

[ Graham ]: “Stalk us again and I’ll call the cops. Better wine than a record, you crazy bitch.”

[ Graham begins to walk off at a hurried pace, Ken following at a similar pace (which seems more hurried with the obvious height disparity between the two men). Clearly, he is not in the mood to be in the middle of a scene that may not have been warranted – but at least UB40 and Neil Diamond are getting our ad revenue now! ]

[ Ken ]: “Are you crazy?!”

[ Graham ]: “Yes, but that’s beside the point! Let’s go before some Karen tries to give me a stern talking-to, or calls the police…”

[ The scene cuts to black once more as Graham steps away to leave, audio and visual ending. ]


[ The sounds of an arcade cabinet precede the fade-in of the video, particularly a 16-bit dinosaur call. ]

[ Graham ]: “They woke up the dinosaurs…. Wow…”

[ We are in Graham’s interrogation room, the familiar scene where all of his direct promotional material is filmed. However, there is a new feature to light up the typically dimly-lit cellar; an arcade cabinet in the far corner, beng played a familiar face to many: Ross Hanson. ]

[ Graham ]: “Didn’t expect that one. Have to give Miss F credit, she’s making sure the “F” stands for Fuck. Fucking stupid, maybe. We all know I already beat Vin, and Vhodka is a fucking joke. But, you took me at face value and called me out.”

[ Graham applauds, although a slow-clap. He stops after four claps. ]

[ Graham ]: “Good job. You’re learning how to listen and think for yourselves. About time, too, I was starting to get a little tired of the stank-ass booking you all were coming up with. But, really, Vinny and Everclear-swilling Vhodka? This is the proof, folks – remember what I was saying about FIGHT-NYC being no different than Outlaw? This solidifies it as absolute truth.”

[ Ross raises his fist in the air after reaching a Game Over screen. He points at it with frustration, but relents and inserts another quarter just in the nick of time. ]

[ Graham ]: “And that I don’t respect you, booker-man.”

[ Graham winks cheekily once again, an instrumental version of the infamous “Agatha” jingle plays. Graham continues to speak as if this was intended. We also hear “GO! GO! GO!” from the arcade machine. ]

[ Graham ]: “Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to break the fourth wall again. But, if it wasn’t any clearer when I was elated to crush your sternum during our last encounter, let me make it perfectly clear that I’ll be happier than a meth-head riding a stolen bike to actually put you six feet under this time.”

[ Ross ]: “Yo, how does this fuck have two swords?”

[ Graham ignores Ross’s outburst, continuing on. ]

[ Graham ]: “I mean, what isn’t there that I haven’t said before about the Black family? Do you really want me to re-hash the greatest hits for you all? They were finally gone from being the focus of everything we saw on television, but now we’re bringing the fucking fossils back in from the museum and asking them to make the company look like it doesn’t have any form of drawing power with me alone being involved in the match. We’re back to the same shit; same song and dance…

You know what they say: “Once you go Black, you never go over”.

[ Ross almost yells at losing another life, this time coming ever so close to beating the boss battle. He covers his mouth, going to his pile of quarters on the control panel. ]

[ Graham ]: “I would’ve been fine taking them both on in a handicap match for the simple fact that Vinny’s gonna need to tag in the drunken monkey every now and then so he can catch his breath. You know, big guys don’t have the stamina to go thirty minutes with guys like me. I can run laps around the ring while he’s barely getting one in for my three, you know?

[ We hear a thud against the arcade machine and a quiet whisper of “suck my fucking dick you little bitch”, causing the quarters to rattle. Another one thrown in the slot, another continue… ]

[ Graham ]: “Nope… I actually thought that Druscilla wench was some random new girl. I honestly don’t care to pay attention to anyone who isn’t either in my corner or in the opposite corner…but I actually do consider this a handicap match. That’s you, Druscilla.

One thing about me, if it isn’t clear, is I don’t trust a lot of people. I don’t go in looking to have to work with anyone I don’t want to. That’s why I have only had one steady tag team partner in this sport, and we had to fight each other for almost a year before that even happened. I have not, and will not, form another team with anyone else because I simply just don’t trust anyone unless you’ve proven that I can.”

[ Graham turns around at Ross, seeing that he is still getting his ass handed to him. He smirks, as he knows that he put a difficult hack on the machine so he could eat away at Ross’s funds. Fuck that Free Play shit. ]

[ Graham ]: “And in all honesty, you have shown that you’re not anywhere near trustworthy. I can’t even take my husband out to dinner without you being nearly up in my crawl! Again, you are the wrong sex, back the fuck off and take a hint you crazy fucking broad! Hit up Ross Hanson! That mother fucker is thirstier than a teacup chihuahua after eating an edible, he’ll munch on you like Pac-Man all you want. I…LIKE…COCK… OKAY?! You’re not going to be able to wine-and-dine me and earn my trust. My trust is not something you can just earn by eating the Cheetos off the floor of whatever bus you rode into Columbus on… But also, anyone who chooses the best way to earn my trust is by stalking my movements and acting like you belong in the same padded cell as Ariel Shadows?”

[ Graham shakes his head and laughs, before stopping and being slightly more serious. ]

[ Graham ]: “Gurl… Choices.”

[ Ross silently celebrates defeating the boss and clearing the level, getting ready for the next by leaning in. ]

[ Graham ]: “But also, Dru… I remember you coming in around the same time as me. I was doing promos about cement shoes, but they were putting those on me. You were given fucking Moon Shoes so you could jump around like the five-year-old that you are, and somehow were skyrocketed to the top. I didn’t go after you because you were a symptom of the problem, and Vincent Black was the disease. But since then, you’re now the current virus that’s causing a problem.

Vincent Black was eliminated by a combination of myself, The Cure, and his current wife. She called his bullshit out before deciding she wanted to argue with him for her entire life, Dollface spat shit in his eyes, and I sent him out the door with his gym bag hanging from his ass. Since then, he’s done nothing. He’s irrelevant.

Vhodka? Even less relevant in active competition here in FIGHT. In fact, she’s busy running around in OCW land. What’s the line? “These hos ain’t loyal”, I think? So, the tag team consists of a half-assed promoter that I convincingly destroyed over a month ago on paid subscription cable…”

[ Graham shrugs, clearly demeaning as he states his next sentence almost as if its a fleeting thought that isn’t important. ]

[ Graham ]: “…and Vhodka.”

[ Ross is heard growling, as he appears to be swarmed by enemies while being stuck in a cadillac… OK, this game literally has Cadillacs and Dinosaurs, at least it wasn’t a marketing ploy. ]

[ Graham ]: “That doesn’t worry me.

What worries me is you, Dru. Being turned on by the person, the one those two hand-picked to be my tag partner, is what worries me. I don’t tag with anyone who isn’t deserving, or someone I cannot trust. But I also know that if I don’t work with you as a team, I’ll end up with another L on my record.

And I am sick and fucking tired of the L. I only smoke joints because of it.”

[ Speaking of, yet another quarter is sacrificed to the great machine. ]

[ Ross ]: “I need to smoke a joint playing this shit. Half this stuff didn’t show up in the Let’s Play I watched on this ancient cluster fuck of pixels and code written by the same people who wrote the script for Baby Geniuses.”

[ Graham ]: “So fine… Come Saturday, I’ll team with you. But not because I want to. Because I have to. I can’t trust you, Dru. And you can only trust me to do one single, solitary thing: Harm my opponents, physically, spiritually, and mentally.

For your sake…don’t end up on the opposite side…”


[ After losing what seems to be his hundredth life, Ross angrily drives his shoulder into the kickplate of the arcade cabinet, wrapping his arms around it and vaulting it from the ground…]

[ Graham ]: “DIOS MIO, ¡CABRÓN!”

[ Graham jumps aside as Ross gives the full-size Cadillacs And Dinosaurs arcade cabinet an overhead belly-to-belly suplex; with an explosion of dust and arcade parts that could best be described as cartoon-like. ]

[ Graham ]: “Why in the hell did I let you bring that thing down here? I mean, Round 1-3’s music is a fucking banger, but…”

[ Ross responds still lying on the ground. ]


[ Graham rolls his eyes, shrugging Ross’s outburst off. ]

[ Graham ]: “Yeah, tell me about it… By the way, you were playing the Super Ultra Plus version that ramps the difficulty and enemy placement. Thanks for the $20 in change, and remember that I am the fucking master.”

[ Ross ]: “Yeah yeah I’ll buy you a new machine. Can you please help me get this joystick out of my ass?”

[ Graham just scowls at Ross. ]

[ Graham ]: “No.”

[ Ross ]: “I knew I should have just played RAID: Shadow Legends.”

[ And with that, the audio and video cut to nothing once again. Plarium Games is buying your new machine, Graham. ]


[ Graham ]: “I can’t have one night out with you without some stupid shit having to happen…”

[ Video returns after Graham makes this comment, both he and Ken are outside the restaurant and heading to their car. ]

[ Ken ]: “Did you have to pour wine on her?!”

[ Graham ]: “Why not? How long had she been watching us? For all we know, she’s been eating from our trash cans the last few nights.”

[ Ken ]: “She’s a human being, not a racoon.”

[ Graham ]: “That eyeliner is a choice, Ken.”

[ As much as Ken doesn’t want to laugh at this, a stifled laugh slips out. A moment later, Graham’s cell phone begins to ring. ]

[ Graham ]: “The fuck…? Rob, maybe?”

[ Yup. They both jump into the car, Graham hands his phone to Ken, Ken taking it from him silently while giving him a quizzical look. ]

[ Graham ]: “Get it on speaker!”

[ Ken ]: “Bitch, don’t tell me what to do!”

[ Ken answers the call, and puts it on speaker as requested. ]

[ Graham ]: “Rob! What’s up?”

[ Rob ]: “Um, uh…Graham…? I…I need you…I need you and Ken to…”

[ Graham ]: “What’s going on?! Where are you?!”

[ Rob ]: “Uhh…I..um…I’m at your house…”

[ Graham ]: “At our-? How in the-? Say no more, we’re on our way!”

[ Ken swiftly grabs and snaps his seatbelt in, Graham just now starting the car. ]

[ Ken ]: “Robbie! Talk to me, bud… What’s going on…?”

[ Rob ]: “A large Uber charge. How far away are you?”

[ Ken ]: “About twenty minutes at most, why?”

[ Rob ]: “…I…I could have died tonight…”

[ As this is said by Rob, Graham’s eyes widen. The scene cuts immediately to black. ]