Part 1:
“YANK“
The tune to Another One Bites the Dust by Queen begins playing loudly as J’s personal ringtone on S’ phone.
S: J, it’s 3:22am…you’d better be in need a blood transfusion or something…
The line is silent on the other end, eerily silent. Then muffled groans and agonizing noises gradually start to become louder in S’ ear.
S: J….? Oi! J….? Hello? Hello, hello?….
J: Esthhh…Esthh…ugghhhh….
S: What the fuck is wrong with you? You off the wagon eh?
J: Esthhh, I need you to come offfver, rught mow, pleathhz…
S: J?! Are you alright? What’s happened why can’t you speak?
S is suddenly very alarmed by the fact that her friend is unable to speak without sounding like the Godfather (Brando) and a mouth full of cotton balls; she sits up and starts looking for her shoes and bag…
S: I’m on the way, J…
J: Uggghhhhhhh!!!!
S swipes off the phone and is out the door in a flash.
KNOCK. KNOCK-KNOCK. KNOCK.
S: J, you have thirty seconds to open the door before it gets fire-axed…
J’s front door flies open with stale, smoky breeze.
J: Ugggghhhhh!!!
J grabs S by the shirt and pulls her into the doorway, slamming it behind them as they both stumbled into the darkness of J’s hot-boxed apartment; J is still clinging fiercely to S’ shirt and basically hanging on her right side, limply.
J: Thuuuude….thoo you haff any of thothe pilths leff from your thurgery, Esthh…?
S noticed a whining in J’s voice that she had never heard before; she lit a cigarette in the dark, allowing herself a look at her friend’s face at last.
S: Awwwww, J….you look like you’ve been hit by a truck!!!
J: Do you haff pilths?…in a fuckton of fuccckkking pain ober here Esthh…
S: Let me see it…c’mon now, open your mouth…
After a momentary, but comically pathetic (on J’s part) struggle, S finally convinced J to open her mouth and show off the culprit.
S: Nasty fucker. Sucks for you, I have no pills…I ate them all after my last tooth saga – remember how fucked up I was? Sigh
J: Aye…I rumumba…hey…?
S: Ye?
J: How bout your pwiers? Got ‘em on you?
S: My pliers?…Yes, always…but….seriously?…you’re in THAT much pain, J?
J: Uh-huh…uggghhhhh!….fuck yeth…fuck yeth…get it the fucckk outh! Pleath, Esthh, pleath!!!
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