They're weapons of self-destruction.
By Patrick Cassels
INT. OFFICE (BY THE ELEVATORS)
PAT, JOSH and MURPH step off the elevator. Pat is holding a
half-eaten bag of popcorn. Murph is finishing a soda.
Aw man, "Zero Dark Thrity" was the
witch's dick, yo!
When they flew those dope choppers
into bin Laden's compound?! It was
like Modern Warfare 2, without that
German kid calling me a homo over
The one thing I didn't get is why
those prisoners in the beginning
bitched out and gave up their Al
Uh, because they were being
Murph loudly SLURPS his soda and, without even thinking,
HUCKS the ice-filled cup to the ground really hard. It's
INT. OFFICE (ELSEWHERE 1) -- CONTINUED
They turn the corner, still in conversation.
That's waterboarding? What's the
big flipping deal? If I was a
prisoner of the CIA, and I was
being baterwoarded [sic], I'd just
hold my breath.
Come on, dude.
I would! I can hold my breath for a
crazy long time. Watch.
Pat takes a deep breath, holds it for a split-second, and
IMMEDIATELY GASPS FOR AIR.
K, I can't do it while you scrotes
are watching me, but trust me I'd
be fine. The CIA would probably be
so impressed they'd straight-up
recruit my ass.
Okay, is that why, that why, that
last time we went to Splash Down
your dumb ass got water up your
nose and you got a sinus infection?
Murph and Josh BURST OUT LAUGHING. Josh NUT TAPS Pat and
exits with Murph. Pat drops his popcorn, and keels over.
INT. OFFICE (ELSEWHERE 2) - CONTINUOUS
Pat catches up, rubbing his balls.
Besides, your lazy ass would
probably punk-out once they stopped
letting you sleep.
Yeah, right! Sleep deprivation?
Oh, you're gonna let me stay up as
late as I want? Wow. Uhhhh, thank
you, I guess?
I dunno, dude. You'd probably get
maaaad sleepy after a few days.
(gets up in Murph's face)
'Cept I wouldn't, 'cept I wouldn't,
because I'd just chug six Red
Bulls. I'd be Hulking the FUCK out
Dwhile all the other prisoners are
getting all cranky and junk.
Bunch of Tala-bitches!
Dude! What about the loud music?
They'd be blasting Papa Roach and
driving you frickin' batty.
Uhhhh, you mean the sick heavy
metal music?! I'd just rock out to
it all night until I won the
Josh & Pat HIGH FIVE.
INT. OFFICE (ELSEWHERE) -- CONTINUOUS
OWEN finishes putting some mustard on a sandwich. Josh
SMASHES the sandwich. The three continue walking.
Well, while you two choades are
sweating your balls off in your
cells, I'd be escaping.
OHMIGOD! It's a maximum-security
CIA Black Site, you dingus!
So the freak what? I'd just ask to
take a wiz. They're not gonna
follow me into the bathroom. It's
against the law. My dad's a lawyer.
He hit a kid with his car. Point
is, as soon as they're not looking
I'd just BOOK IT for the razor wire
and climb over. And you guys know I
can run. Remember when I outran the
security guard at Jamesway?
He caught up to you.
But still that shithead was super
INT. OFFICE (BY THEIR DESKS) -- CONTINUOUS
They enter and arrive by Pat's desk.
Uh, K, you're SOMEHOW over the
razor wire. But then you're still
in the middle of Guantamabo [sic]
Bay! How are you gonna get home?
My brother could pick you up. He
just bought a used Toyota Echo.
Only 300 thousand miles on it.
DUDE! THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS!
Pat and Murph get into a pathetic slap fight.
Guys, cut it out! Let's just unwind
and light some firecrackers down by
Good idea./Very smart.
HARD CUT TO:
INT. CIA BLACK SITE -- SAUDI ARABIA -- DAYS LATER
The three bros are on their knees, NAKED, in a dusty
interrogation room. A CIA INTERROGATOR is punching PAT.
I swear I'll tell you anything.
Just keep me away from that
I swear, it was these two assholes'
ideas, sir! I REALLY need a nap.
I'm making a run for it!
Murph gets up and runs. He is IMMEDIATELY tackled by two
guards who beat the shit out of him.
I'm soooo slow!