i heard jackie is going to go to some owner's meeting. what do you think that's about?
his name's downtown.
sarcasm.
that's sarcasm, man. he's doing it again!
yesss! i like it! it's our own
what do you think, monix? all eyes turn on the grumpy one.
ms. quincy's hot dish? sweet!
hey monix, what were the celtics like?
you're supposed to be mr. smartball. why'd you get bounced?
oh, you're just jealous.
no one said that, man.
why not?
gross. well, i ain't guarding him. monix notices this discussion.
that root beer machine took my fucking change, man. white people are assholes. monix ignores this. laying back, he focuses on the tv: the celtics are playing. their trapping defense is a thing of beauty. clarence walks over and flicks the channels, until he stops at 'love american style.'
oh, that's a bunch of dog shit.
what?
of course he's right. but what the hell are we supposed to do about it? we don't even have plays.
yeah, kids love that stuff. although, i find the wild-life masks realistic and frightening.
i vote we keep the blow jobs.
hey, how come you don't have to run with us? you're a player, just like the rest of us.
no shit. what's up with all of these fucked up words, man?
basically, we have.
not cool.
there could be a riot.
wait, your mom wrote that? was she a singer?
what does that mean?
they can't just do this, can they?
jackie.  please.  say something. jackie opens his mouth.  he tries to speak, but he can't.
are you crying?
jackie? bee bee ellis hears jackie voice and discovers him in laying the garbage. jackie ignores his teammate.
jackie! what the hell are you doing in a dumpster?
you gotta get it together, man. monix called a team meeting.
right.
yeah! let's go!
jackie? you awake?
we don't have one.
he's awake.
he's lost his mind.
what are we going to run?
the puke?
always has.