Green Room Page #3

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It's okay. It's fine.

Turn that pa down.

-You didn't lock the door.

-You were right there!

-Big Justin:
Until I wasn't!

-Gabe:
Quiet!

Hello?

- Woman:
This is

emergency services.

-Yeah, we got cut off.

I was calling to report

a stabbing.

-Gabe:

Yes.

Yes, ma'am.

-Did you call Darcy?

-He's on his way.

He knows about that...

Not this.

-You can't keep us here, man.

You gotta let us go.

-Gabe:
We're not keeping you.

You're just staying.

You're up.

-What the f*** is

that supposed to mean?

-Just relax!

Everyone, just relax.

Cops are coming.

-See how easy that is?

-Motherf***er!

Look what you did!

-Amber, chill the f*** out!

- Yes. Please.

-Darcy here?

-Not yet.

-I need $600 cash.

-You just signed out $350.

-Somebody's dead.

-Still gotta keep the books.

What else do you need?

-A true believer.

-How 'bout two?

- Maybe she's not dead.

-Sam:

I'm just saying.

Like, there's not

a lot of blood.

You know, so, like,

maybe she's just...

And who are we

to say that she's...

Sam:
Oh, sh*t!

-Big Justin:

Come on, man.

What are you doing?

Tiger:
The f***, man?

-There it is.

-Oh, my god.

-Reece:
We gotta go.

We gotta f***ing

go right now.

-Now we didn't see sh*t.

We-- we--

we were so drunk.

-All right, just wait, okay?

Cops are on the way.

-Gabe:

Above and beyond, gentlemen.

You need me to do it?

-Twin 1:
Nope.

-Won't even be the first time.

--Hurry up.

Twin 1:
Go.

-All right, that's it.

-Okay, let me see it.

The knife.

It's an inch too short

for felony possession,

so you don't have to worry

about the...

Actually, give me

that money back.

-Twin 2:

What?

It's like vouchers

and sh*t.

We'll hold it for you.

Come on.

If you do any time,

we'll double it.

Now talk to 'em.

-You the victim?

-Twin 1:
Yes, officer.

-Officer:

Kneel down.

Both of you,

ankles crossed.

-Gabe:

That's the owner.

I called him too.

-Darcy:

All right, let's give them

some room to work, folks.

-Are you the owner?

-Darcy:

Yes, ma'am.

-Cowcatcher, clear out.

-Hey, where are the cops?

-Gabe:
Get your stuff, man.

-Tiger:
What about us?

-Amber:

What are you doing?

-We're sorting it out.

Just hang tight, Amber.

-Your set was pretty good.

-What?

-What was the name

of your second to last song?

-Uh...

To-- toxic evolution.

-It's f***ing hard, man.

That's the one

i did her to.

-All right, he's got

six bullets...

-For real?

-...If we all go at once--

-tiger:
Guys, hold off a sec.

-For what?

-Sam:
We haven't done anything!

-It doesn't matter.

-Okay.

They're called cartridges.

The bullet is the part

that enters your brain

if you keep talking sh*t.

And this gun only has

five cartridges, not six,

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