LEAKING YOUR LIQUOR ON MY FLOOR

Music loud.

Pool balls cracking.

Arcade machines flashing.

Sammy’s is shut down to the public. Invite only. 18 and up.

It’s 40 Oz’s nineteenth birthday. His only friends younger than himself, are Raven, and Lolita, by a couple of months.

 Either way, there was always plenty of partying.

 At Sammy’s, with a spot like this-- this was every young adult's dream spot for party's.

Pool tables. Foosball, Arcades, basketball hoops, tennis courts, a chill area outback on the west side with a racing track, and another chill area on the east side of the building, with a walking track, and workout center. The only thing Sammy didnt have was a swimming pool. Being that he was Forty Ounce's uncle, we were constantly in his ear about it.

Neon lights glow against wood-paneled walls.

A cloud of cigarette smoke hangs in the air.

The party's picked up since they've been here a while. Kyle stands near the back hallway, finishing a phone call.

 KYLE (into phone, strained):

“I’m on my way.”

 He hangs up. Rubs his face. He steps back into the main room.

The energy shifts. A commotion near the pool tables, in the center of the bar.

SAMMY (Late 30s, intimidating, calm) slaps the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun on the bar.

 SAMMY:

“If y’all don’t want holes in ya – leaking your liquor on my floor — I suggest y'all take it outside.”

In the center of the bar:

40 Oz and KING size each other up.

40 Oz (boisterous):

“Man, it wasn’t even like that. Raven was asking about what Kyle said. People coming up missing around here!”

 KING (in a dangerously calm, deep voice):

“I don’t care about no people missing. Don’t talk to my girl. Unless you want to get beat on in here?”

King pounds his fist into his palm

for emphasis.

The tension is thick.

No one moves.

Sammy slowly cocks the shotgun.

The bar goes SILENT.

 Then—

King exhales. They back away, playing it off.

KING:

“Yeah… happy birthday, jackass.”

 40 OZ:

“You just mad ‘cause it ain’t your birthday.”

Tension breaks.

The room breaks into laughter.

RAVEN walks up to King.

Whispering to him privately.

King shakes his head no. Then he says no. Raven tickles his stomach, gently pushing him backwards until he sits down. She sits on his lap, continuing to whisper in his ear.

 King’s jaw tightens.

Then he nods yes, with a crooked smirk.

 RAVEN (celebrates her Victory):

“Yes!”

Kyle steps forward. Looks at all three, 40 Oz, Raven, and King, shaking his head.

KYLE:

“I’m leaving. Aunt Maggie’s got something.”

KYLE (asks them all before leaving):

“Meet me at The Lookout after?”

40 Oz (nods):

“Raven's calling a meeting. Tryin’ to see how many homies will show up and show out.”

Kyle exits.

40 Oz, and King sit at a table.

They lean in close to talk.

 Raven pulls her phone from her back pocket while going to order drinks at the bar.

A few minutes later, she returns with their drinks, rolling her eyes at 40 Oz.

King shakes his head. They all reach for drinks. “Cheers!”, they all say in unison, with birthday well wishes for 40 Oz.