(Scene: Albuquerque, NM. Late in the night, or perhaps early in the morning. A nondescript apartment, dimly lit. Sounds of pleasure from multiple individuals can be heard from a different room. Suddenly things go very quiet.)

(DOOR FLIES OPEN)

HOT WOMAN: (storming out of the room) Goddamnit, that’ll fucking teach me to try anything with a drunk cokehead. TEN MINUTES AND YOU’RE AS LIMP AS MARCUS BACHMANN’S WRISTS! CHAMPION MY ASS!

JON JONES: (stumbles out of the room)

Girl, please, come on now, I was just getting worked up. You know I gotta get past the first round before I’m really rolling!

HOTTER WOMAN: (follows him out of the room, frowning) Yeah, first round means spilling coke all over the place from fiending so bad. Goddamnit, that just makes things get all irritated; way worse than ingrown hairs.

JJ: Listen, come on now, ladies, please! Be fair! Lemme just do another rail, and we’ll be in action all night!

HOT WOMAN: Buzz off. I’m calling the service and cancelling this. You’ll get your money back. (grabs her purse, pulls out her phone, and her and the other HOTTER WOMAN head into a different room, slamming and then locking the door)

JJ: Aww, man. (looks down) Come on, Lil Jon. Why can’t you just say YEEAAAHHH or even OKAY like you used to? Huh? Damn, I need a little bump. Where’d I put my–

(He is interrupted by a knock at the door)

Come in!

(Door smoothly slides open)

Silky: Am I to understand that there have been some issues with the superior sexual services supplied by Silky this evening?

JJ: Oh, shit, hey Silky. Nah, man, it’s cool. I just, you know…

Silky: Perhaps this young man before me has overindulged and temporarily lost the swagger necessary to freak two of Silky’s finest New Mexican ladies for a whole night?

JJ: Yeah, man, I guess so.

Silky: Silky is sincerely sorry to hear this sad tale. While this situation has never happened to Silky and he remains able to freak up to ten women at a time for an entire night, Silky is sympathetic and senses sadness about your self-sabotage surrounding salaciousness. Here is your refund.

(hands Jon Jones a giant wad of loose bills)

JJ: Uh… don’t you roll it up or something? Maybe even keep it in a briefcase?

Silky: Silky just finished his usual rounds and has not had time to properly face and bind his bills. For this, Silky apologizes and is willing to show our young champion a good time to make up for this social impropriety.

JJ: Sure, man. I guess I’m done here, anyway.

(they both leave the apartment, and hop into JJ’s rented SUV)

JJ: Hey, man, what’s that smell? And why’s my car so smokey?

Atari Bigby: JAH! Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh my brothers!

JJ: What the hell are you doing here? And why are you smoking my weed?!

AB: Gah, Atari, ya bumbaclot, ya been found out, mon! (drops the weed pipe on the floor and runs out of the SUV)

Silky: That is an unfortunate case of severe bogarting. It appears the young rasta cashed your bowl. Silky offers to repack it for you… for a small fee, of course.

JJ: All right, whatever, man. (throws a few crumpled bills from the pile at Silky)

Silky: Silky appreciates your business. (begins to scrape out the bowl)

JJ: So where are we going, anyway?

Silky: Silky never goes to the party. The party always comes to Silky. Patience, champ.

(DOOR FLIES OPEN AND A PISTOL IS PUSHED INTO JON JONES’ FACE)

Ryan Leaf: GIMME ALL THAT MONEY MOTHERFUCKER! POPPA NEEDS A COUPLE BOTTLES OF OXY!

JJ: OH SHIT! SILKY, HELP!

(Jon Jones looks over to see an open passenger door, the marijuana pipe still falling from where Silky was holding it, but Silky is nowhere to be seen)

Ryan Leaf: I SAID GIMME THE MONEY OR I’M GONNA HAVE TO GET UGLY!

???: IT’S TOO LATE FOR THAT, YOU ASS CLOWN REJECT!

(something clobbers Ryan Leaf from behind, who falls down in a heap instantly)

JJ: OH SHIT! OH SHIT! I thought I was dead. Thank you, whoever you are!

(the mysterious hero steps into the light)

Trent Green: Uh, you’re welcome? What did I do?

JJ: You saved my life, man!

Trent Green: I did?

JJ: Yeah, you took that junkie out!

Trent Green: Who?

JJ: The knocked out guy at your feet!

Trent Green: (looks down) HOLY SHIT! There’s a dead guy here! Somebody call the ambulance!

JJ: What the… No, no, it’s cool man. It’s cool. He’s okay.

Trent Green: Well, somebody ought to get the guy responsible for this!

JJ: Uh… yeah, okay. You know what? I’m just gonna take a bump to calm down and be on my way, but, uh, you just forget what you saw here, okay? I wasn’t here.

Trent Green: What?

JJ: (does a line of cocaine) YEEEEEEEEHAWWWWWWWW I’M CRAZY! (peels out in his SUV, runs a red light and hits a car and then another car)

SHIT!

(makes a run for it, then remembers the money, then comes back and gets it and runs into the darkness up a hill. He stops for breath when he’s sure no one can see him. Then, a voice in the darkness startles him)

Silky: Silky is truly sorry for leaving you alone like that. However, Silky has seen this heinous hit and run you’ve committed without any regards to the well being of the individuals you hurt. For his silence, Silky would like his money back.

JJ: Goddamnit.