0649-------------------------------------
(Wednesday afternoon, INT: sordid den of iniquity.)
AR (fiddling with card reader and smartphone): Alright, give it a second, this thing's gotta boot up...
[phone ringing sound]
JH: I... uh... d'you mind if I get that?
AR: Make it quick.
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JH (talking into phone): Hey. Can't really talk right now. I'm handling the - what?
JH: Slow down, slow down. What's a one-seven-one-P-five?
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JH: Oh my God, what? You got it? You got the phencyclidine back?
JH: That's... I thought they said six to eight weeks!
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(INT: EB and JH's apartment, EB is wearing Dame-Edna-style glasses and yelling into the phone)

EB: I SAID, HAVE YOU SEEN MY GLASSES!