[A/n: This is entirely dialogue. References to gay sex, but this isn't slash. Naughty language. Thus endth the warnings]

*Ring, ring*



"Hey, Rita. What's up?"

"It's February."

"Yeah, I know. I do own a calendar."

"Your deadline is in April."

"I know that too, Rita."

"How many pages do you have done?"



"Relax, I have plenty of time."

"I swear to god, Jack, if you're late again-"

"Have I ever failed you?"

"Yes! Every single time! Do you know how many cigarettes I've had today? The clerk at 7-11 cut me off. I can't take this, Jack. Please, please, tell me you're going to be done by April."

"Absolutely. Everything's outlined and the rough draft's almost done. It will be okay."


"Okay. Go take a valium or something."




*Ring, ring*



"No, this is Eric, Jack's in the shower."

"Why are you answering Jack's phone?"

"Um, because he's in the shower? Are you like his mother or something?"

"How old are you?"


"Jesus Christ. Kid, put your pants back on and find someone your own age."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I know it seems romantic, the handsome older man swooping in all experienced-"


"Jack? I thought you were in the shower."

"I got out. I wasn't building a summer home in there or anything."

"Oh. Right."

"Eric's my nephew, by the way. My sister and her family are here for a visit."


"You think I'm handsome?"

"I didn't call to stroke your ego, Jack. Where are you?"

"My bedroom. I can't find my pants."

"On the book. Where are you on the book?"

"Oh, yeah. That. Almost done."


"I'm on the last chapter."


"Yeah, I'll start the first draft as soon as Shelly leaves."

"Wait, you're only on the last chapter of the rough draft?"


"The deadline is five weeks away!"

"Technically, five weeks, three days."

"Oh my god, why are you doing this to me? Am I a bad agent? Are you unhappy with the deal?"

"No, no, the deal's great. You're a great agent."

"Then, why do you-"

"Oh, sorry, got to go. We're going to Disneyland."





*Ring, ring*


"What are you doing? Are you writing? For the love of god, tell me you're writing."

"Rita, seriously, I think it's time to lay off the espressos. Try a nice chai tea instead."

"Two weeks, Jack!"

"I know."

"You haven't sent me anything."

"Well, the rough draft is definitely finished."

"And? And? I need more than that, Jack!"

"I'm sitting down to write right now. Hear that? That is me typing the next bestseller."

"Okay. Okay."

"I just need to find the right music."

"What? No. No music. Just write."

"Have you listened to Bon Iver? I'm still on the fence about them."

"I will leap down this telephone wire and strangle you. My rage defies the laws of physics, Jack."

"Uh huh. Hey, there's a new episode of The League."


"...That was uncalled for, Rita. Why don't you call back after you've calmed down."

"Wait, Jack-"



*Ring, ring*

"Jack's phone!"

"Can I speak to Jack?"




"Rita, how's it going."

"I'm going to kill you, Jack. I'm going to kill you slow. I thought I would let you know in case you wanted to flee to Mexico."

"Oh, baby, you know what it does to me when you do that."


"Sorry, I was talking to Andy."

"Andy? Who's Andy?"

"He answered the phone. I met him at Disney. He plays Prince Charming."

"Prince Charming is gay. Great. That's just great."

"Uh huh."

"Are you listening to me?"

"Uh huh."


"I'm right here. You don't need to yell."

"Where are the pages, Jack?"

"What pages?"

"The pages you promised you'd have done."

"Yeah, about that...I was reading about these monks in the thirteenth century and I started thinking about how I was never really comfortable with Jerry's back story, so I've decided to approach the whole thing from a different direction."

"No, no, no, I am not hearing this. I am not hearing this."

"It's a good thing, Rita. Trust me."

"The publishers are expecting a draft in three days!"

"So explain I need some more time."

"Because of ancient monks."


"I'm going to kill you."

"Yeah, that's nice. So you'll take care of it? Okay, talk to you later. Bye!"


"That's right, baby, you suck daddy's cock. Uhhhh, just like a lollipop, baby. Fuck."

"Jack? You didn't hang up the phone, Jack."

"Does baby want some cream? Oh, yeeeeaaah, baby, daddy's gonna give you some cream."


"Hang on, baby. Uhhh. Uhhhh. Uhhhhhhhhh!"

"Oh, for the love of..."



*Ring, ring*


"Rita. What. the. fuck."

"Is something wrong, Jack?"

"My internet won't work; my cable's been shut off. Someone's deleted all the games off my computer and my DVD's have been stolen."


"My books too."

"Huh. Were they valuable?"

"My iPhone was. Where's my iPhone, Rita? I will let everything else slide, but I love my iPhone. I love it like a fat girl loves cake. I love it like John Belusi loved cocaine. I will cut a bitch, Rita."

"What could have happened to it, I wonder."

"I know where you live."



"You haven't tried your front door yet."


"I'll wait. Hmm-hmm-hmmm-hmmmm-hmm-hmm-"

"You nailed my door shut."

"No, it was the mysterious bandits."


"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Jack. However, since I have you on the phone, how are those pages going?"

"You're psychotic."

"Type-y, type-y, Jack."

"I'm calling the cops."

"With a pound of hashish in a strategically hidden spot? You're a brave man."

"You can't do this to me."

"How long do think it'll take you? Two weeks? Should go quick without all those distractions. Call me when you're done."

"Wait! I only have a week's worth of food."

"Really? Better type fast then."


-The End-