joe at his hotel window staring out blankly. gun fire o.s.
joe curled up on his bed like a baby, fully dressed, his radio on the night stand. o.s. his love theme, remote, hollow.
joe soaking in the tub, eyes closed.
joe staring in the mirror. o.s. static over his love theme.
joe flexing his muscles in his jockey shorts while -- live on tv screen -- a physical culture personality finishes push-ups and starts pitching his own extra protein bread.
joe sits in the hotel lobby, staring out at the street, unable to concentrate on his comic book. on two-way radio, a woman's voice giggles as she speaks, "when i can't sleep, well, i just dial the time and listen to those old seconds clicking by like, you know, counting sheep?"
joe straddles a chair, staring at a blank tv screen.