Four Boxes Page #2

copacetic, for us to come up here,

or down here or wherever

we are, you know what I mean,

like, have everything be all...

outta tune.

Rob, it's like...

you know, it's tough news,

but it's true.

Trevor and I used to rump-ride,

and that's always a BD,

a big deal, you know?

You know?

I mean, come on.

He's, like... out of tune with his,

like, emotions, you know?

I mean, and I know

that's not our problem, you know?

It's, like, he's the one

that needs to be dealing with it.

Like, we can't come up here,

come down here...

Like, what the f***

are you even saying?

I mean, seriously.

I can't even follow it, actually.

- Whatever.

- Whatever.

Jesus.

God,

I look fat with my guitar.

Oh, sh*t.

I forgot to pick up the new

Chili Peppers disc today.

Creepy.

If you watch too much Web,

it makes you a loser.

You know that, right?

- Look!

- Oh, my God. Those are feet.

That's so messed.

Remember, dudes, everything

on the Internet is bullshit.

In fact,

everything's bullshit everywhere.

Shouldn't we

tell someone about that?

Are you stoned?

Yeah.

I'm always stoned, Trevor?

Is that it?

It helps me balance.

Actually, I'm thinking

this is maybe Europe.

God!

I should not have shown you

that website, man.

I forgot how you get all...

- Ease up, man.

- What'd I do?

You stoned, too?

Yeah.

I could not live

in a dirty shithole like that.

I swear to God.

I second that emotion.

What you doing, bro?

Dude, not everything

is a Stephen King book, yo.

Are you having your period?

My bad.

- She's the one that got me riled.

- What'd I do?

"Thistle, your tits are hot,

but your singing sucks".

Like, who would take the time

to sit down and type this?

- Dudes.

- Oh, this guy.

Dudes, dudes, dudes, dudes!

Oh.

Told you everything

on the Web is bullshit.

I'm outie.

Amber!

I'm gonna run and get a southwestern

ranch hand on ciabatta.

You want one?

Okay.

Awesome.

Where's the Subway?

By BP.

Finally got

a remote car starter, huh?

Total lifesaver, Trevor.

BRB.

Southwestern rizzle hiii-zz.

Sauce?

Three cheddar churn?

Hmm. Nice.

Where's Rob?

Sleeping.

Gotta hit the gym.

Gettin' fat.

Tell me about it, dawg.

What happened

to your Saturn?

Oh, I backed into a pole

at work.

I screwed up the wheels

but good.

Drunk?

Mm, yeah.

I was celebrating.

I had a big gig

at Tracey's store.

The candle and incense store

at Tamarack?

That was your big gig?

Yeah, Trevor.

It was a great turnout.

Thought it closed.

This was before,

a while ago.

Rob ever find out

about the shitface shack?

No.

And he better not.

I'm really with him now, Trevor.

I'm 30 years old.

I'm finally in a place where

I have to think about my future.

- I gotta grow up.

- I know.

I'm going to bed.

I get it.

I know.

Trevor... grown-ups do

what they don't wanna do.

I know!

Awesome!

Yes!

Oh, God! Yes!

Oh, no...

Awesome!

Dot.

Watching.

I'm dot.

House.

My...

Have you...

If...

"If you have my money,

you never leave this house alive.

I'm watching".

What the f***?

Who wrote that?

Oh... man.

Hey, Rob!

God damn, dude!

Smoking again?

I so gotta quit.

Ew...

I need some gum bad.

Check this.

Oh, my God.

What the f***?

And I think that leaf blower...

just blew the shniked

out of a kitty cat.

Okay, I'm sorry, this site

is getting really wack.

Mmm.

Are you still on Ambien?

I have nightmares, Trevor.

Somebody should get all up

in this a**hole's grille.

Yeah, you're right about that.

I miss my computer.

You could go home.

Mm, too scary there.

My roommate's in Tampa.

Lucky ducky.

I wanna be in Tampa.

Don't take away

Another piece of me

Don't break away

Another part of me

Don't leave me

Crying to myself

Don't make me

Come crawling back to me

I can feel my hair getting

all screwed up when I sing.

Where's Rob?

Brown.

Did Bill Zill succumb?

What?

Did Bill Zill die?

Yeah.

Trevor Grainger,

I'm getting really tipsy.

Take me inside.

Trevor G,

we are way out of line here.

I know,

but I feel outta line.

But I wanna start acting

like I should, though.

- F***!

- Oh, sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!

What's up?

Good morning, dollface.

Just grabbing... grabbing

a bloody for the shower.

Good choice.

You smell like Tommy for Men.

Dude, what're you

even talking about?

Looks like you two been eating

the same Krispy Kreme...

at the same time.

Chill, oh, Chachi.

You're dreaming.

Just talking, dude.

Don't forget, we used to do it,

you know?

We have stuff to talk about.

Yeah, I know.

You used to do it.

Everyone keeps reminding me.

Don't forget whose idea

to have her come here, hombre.

She's my fiancee, man.

I don't usually say sh*t

like this to you, Trevor,

but get over it.

Me and her...

we're getting married, dude.

We're gonna push plastic strollers

full of babies...

around Disneyland, a'ight?

- You're just trippin', man.

- Yeah.

That's what I'm hoping.

Oh, there's

your mystery disk computer.

Wake it up, man.

"Shooting Spree"?

Yep.

Should we play a little

before we ship the TV?

That thing

is f***ing old school.

Hmm.

They're all upstairs.

They're all hiding in the bathroom,

you f***ing idiots!

There was something strange

going on in this house.

There's something strange

going on inside every house, yo.

Eh!

Suck it, mall walker!

Rob!

Come check this!

Terrorists.

Yep.

And Havoc's the scientist.

It's just like... in movies.

A terrorist hires a scientist

to build him some bombs...

and then knocks him off

when he's done with him.

You think that's it?

Look how he's

looking out the window, dude.

When he looks out,

it's not right.

It's like he's looking...

past the window.

You guys,

there's someone outside.

I was just sitting here,

and I saw someone out in the yard,

and I thought it was Rob,

but then you guys were talking,

and the guy was, like,

still there.

- Oh, for real, Bambers?

- Yeah, for real, Rob.

- Should we check it?

- No.

You know, I would so love to

not have you always asking me,

"For real, for real?"

Yeah, for real!

- Why would I make it up?

- Okay.

I'm not, like, making things up.

You think I'm lying?

I said it was for real,

so it's for real, obviously.

- Okay... I'm sorry!

- I'm not making it up!

- Guys.

- Okay... Okay...

I'm not just saying it

just to make sh*t up! God!

I don't see anything.

Yeah,

I don't see anything either.

Ah! F***!

What the F... man?!

God!

- Quit following...

- What'd you see, guys?

Yeah, there was

somebody out there, Amber.

We saw a bunch

of strange footprints.

There's somebody

watching this place, I think.

I get

that feeling, too, you know?

I found a really weird message

on the typewriter...

if you run

the ribbon backwards.

I think it's probably

just the ding-hole neighbor.

I'm going to bed.

Come on, Amber.

Can I get by?

God.

Can I? God.

Is there something

you wanna tell me, partner?

Have a good night.

Is somethin' hidden?

Idea... a website that tells you

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