Two students, Benetar and Joniston, stumble out of a party drunk as fudge and begin half walking/half falling home.



- Guess what time it is.

- Four?

- TIME FOR SOME ROUGHAGE, BROTHA!

- Oh man, so hungry. I could go for something to soak this sh*t up.

- Yes. Oh wow, you know what I want? Like… so bad?

- Yes. Oh my God, Yes.

- Pear braised pork tenderloin—

- And fingerling sweet potato puree! I KNEW YOU WERE GOING TO F*CKING SAY THAT!

(They hug)

- Come on I gotta find that sh*t somewhere.

- Slow down dude.

- Oh man, I could totally house like a… like a… like a… coconut-cilantro garden salad with raspberry vinagarette or something?

- Dude, I would down a leafy green with any fruit reduction right now, I don't f*cking care I am so DONE, let's just go!

- Jesus… you have to be sh*tting me, it looks like they're closed.

- God dammit.

- Why are there no 24/7 Il-Trattoria de Vermicelli in this f*cking city This is f*cking retarded!

(They press their faces against the glass entrance doors)

- Sh*t those sun dried tomato baguettes look so FRESH!! UGHHHH! (almost crying) I want one with olive oil so bad…

- Is Pomme Brul