There are reasons we hang out with Justin. First, he rocks. Second… we only need the one.
SCENE 1: Light overflows from the streetlamps onto the patio outside Numbers. A small cluster of friends stands CS talking a few feet from the door into the club SR. Music sneaks out of the club in waves as people walk in and out.
We’re talking to Tiffany. You always talk to Tiffany, because, well… She’s hot. So I guess, you always look at Tiffany, but I always talk to her as well because she’s really sweet and you can see the person staring out from those eyes (an intelligence afraid of spiting her good looks).
But for most of you, you’d talk to Tiffany because she’s hot.
So we’re talking to Tiffany: club pleasantries. Work. The weather. Cock rings. Denise was there, so cock rings are unavoidable. Justin is there, too. Talking to Tiffany (see above). So is Kasey.
Tall, stocky male enters from club door SR. A cursory glance around the patio, and he spies Tiffany. Wanting to talk to her, he moseys over towards our little enclave.
TALL, STOCKY MALE: (interrupting current conversation) Hey… blahblah blah —
JUSTIN: Shut the fuck up. You talk too much.