Hello, everyone. I'm Rebecca Kashani- Martinez. You may recognize me as the voice of pop sensibility for NPR KCLU on the California coast, where bi-weekly episodes explore the fascinating intersection of music, culture, history, and recording technology. Today, I've got something a little different. They used to tell us, don't worry about the bad ones in high school. You'll never have to see them again when you graduate. But then Facebook came along, and the retention of so-called friends, who stay in your orbit as this persistence of memory, digital artifacts, fossilized voyeurs from our past who linger within our present and future. In Society of the Spectacle, Guy Debord wrote, all that was once directly lived has become a mere representation. Well, in the spring of 2020, the last person I ever expected to get a friend request, on top of a call from prison, was Brad Peterson. The guy from the debate and mock trial clubs, who passed flyers around town claiming my election as Santiago High School class president in 2010 was rigged. He almost cost me a scholarship. And so the story goes. What does the West Coast sound of the late 70s, the capitol insurrection, QAnon, vaporwave music, the Russian mafia, and an elderly pop singer named Bobby Bridges, who disappeared after the Painted Cave Fire that devasted Santa Barbara in 1990 have in common? Well, before we continue with this edition, we are presenting the Freedom for America field recordings as a matter of full transparency, lest we be accused of any kind of editing or censorship. Before we continue, if there are any young ones in the car, you should probably wear some earmuffs. Before we continue, if there are any young ones around, they should probably wear some earmuffs. This is Anonymous Lover Part 1.

FADE IN: 
THE FREEDOM FOR AMERICA BUTT ROCK THEME SONG PLAYS. 

BRAD

What up fam, greetings from the mean streets of Orange County, California, and welcome to the first ever episode of The Freedom For America podcast. I'm your host Brad.

GREG

And I'm Greg.

BRAD AND GREG
(energetic build-up)

And together we are... Wyld Stallyns!!!!
BRAD

Just kiddin' y'all. This is not some Bill and Ted child's play.

GREG

But I have been called a wild stallion before.

BRAD

Except you're an incel.

GREG

Those days are behind me. Shout out to the Top G.

BRAD

It's all part of the hero's journey, hombre.

GREG

Ever since my imaginary girlfriend left me, I knew I had to change.

BRAD

She needed some space?

GREG

Sometimes I call her and this guy has the nerve to say 
(robot voice)
"Sorry, this number is not in service anymore".

BRAD

She didn't waste any time.

GREG

We're already off topic. Here, have another Zyn. 

BRAD

Good idea. Focus!

GREG

What we should have said in the intro, was...

BRAD

Yeah, we can just fix this in post. What we should have said was, together we are the hosts of the Freedom For America podcast.

GREG

That's right, we are the anchors.

BRAD

From the trenches of the culture war, we are your anchors, beacons of truth, justice, and the American way. We seek to explore and expose the lies of the deep state and lame-stream media. Cause we're all being manipulated.

GREG

Exposure is the key thing here. We gotta shine the spotlight, but first and foremost, how did we get here?

BRAD

Context is everything.

GREG

Honestly, it's 'cause we know a lot of things that other people don't know.

BRAD

Yeah, we do know a lot.

GREG

Because the more you know, the more you realize what you don't know.

BRAD

It must've been the summer of 2013 when we first met. The hackathon in Houston. Cause we're both good with computers, obviously. We were homies on the Infosec Discord, I flew in from Cali, crashed on your couch. And here we are, seven years later.

GREG

Yeah, I was still living there at the time. It was there we realized Houston had a problem.
BRAD

A big problem. And that problem is child sex trafficking.

GREG


Yeah, my hometown of Houston is a major port city, a big hub in the U.S. for child sex trafficking. But the problem is widespread.

BRAD

That's when we put our heads together and knew we had to make a difference.

GREG

With your background in investigative journalism along with mine in computing, we put our heads together to found Pistols For Peddies.

BRAD

That's right. Our non-profit. We're a volunteer operation that catfishes and doxes pedophiles.
We're starting this podcast to expand that effort during a pivotal moment in our nation's history. Ever since those goddamn Podesta emails. Is pizza really a code word for sex? What aren't the Dems gonna ruin these days?

GREG

My cousin, who I don't talk to for obvious reasons, lives in DC, and played a bunch of shows with his soy indie rock band at the Comet Ping Pong. Saw it on Instagram at least, until he blocked me. Def some creepy signs as far as that place is laid out. Prosebic knows what's up.

BRAD

Why'd he block you?

GREG

I DM'd him that he should try listening to some real heavy rock like Trapt. Or Hoobastank.
BRAD

Hoo-Ba. Hell yeah.

GREG

Yeah, like, maybe make some actual money instead of donating it all to these charity fronts. I just don't get people who aren't career oriented.

BRAD

I mean they're definitely encouraging people to rely on handouts. Let’s dye our hair blue and sing about it! Crimea river.

GREG


Don't get me started on Ukraine. First of all, for those of our listeners who don't know, I think we gotta unpack Pizza Gate a little first.

BRAD

Well, according to our sources, Pizzagate claims that John Podesta, Hilary Clinton's top aid, had emails that contained coded messages connecting several high-ranking Democratic Party officials and U.S. restaurants with an alleged human trafficking and child sex ring. One of the establishments allegedly involved was the Comet Ping Pong pizzeria your cousin frequents.

GREG

Corey, if you’re listening, that shit ain’t cool man. Don’t make the family reunion anymore awkward than it already is. Cause this is blowin' up on 4Chan. I think I need new glasses.

BRAD

There are other ominous signs, too. Like they even had a soundtrack to their evil. Apparently this mix Podesta was circulating had all this corny 80's music on it, but it was slowed down, so it sounds all trippy and drugged out. What a freak.

GREG

The kids call it vaporwave.

BRAD

That would make sense considering they're into kids. 

GREG

Exactly.

BRAD

I mean, I read up on this stuff, listened to some YouTube mixes, and y'know, I heard some good hooks. But it has these weird commie undertones, like there was a Soviet Vaporwave themed channel. That’s how they get ya.

GREG

Well, it's an interesting debate. Think about Wagner. Or R-Kelly. Just because someone has hateful views or commits a heinous crime, does that mean we don't buy their art anymore?
BRAD

Totally. I was listening to Led Zeppelin on the way here.
GREG

Wait, what's wrong with Led Zeppelin?

BRAD

Jimmy Page was a peddie, dude. Banged a fourteen year old. Bowie took her v-card, too.

GREG

No way.


BRAD

Yes, way. It's true. But that won't get in the way of me enjoying a good riff.

GREG

Yeah, I mean, I'm sick and tired of getting told what I can or cannot say, what I can or cannot do, by these woke scold snowflakes. Who knows, she might've lied about her age?

BRAD

I hate it when that happens. In another life, we could’ve catfished Jimmy Page in a parking lot, but I don’t want to dress up in a drag disguise for our missions anymore. I ain't climbin' that stairway to heaven. 
GREG

You do look better in a skirt than me.

BRAD

I dunno dude, you’ve got that bubble butt all the black dudes like. Remember that one time at In N’Out?
(raps)
Bubble butt, bubble butt, bubba-bubba bubble butt.

GREG

I don’t want to talk about that...

BRAD

My bad...


Awkward silence.

BRAD


But back to Led Zeppelin, right? Imagine if I didn't know that? I guess I'll never know now that I know, but I figure if I never did, I would still think Immigrant Song is sick.

GREG

Unless it's pro illegal immigration. I'm allowed to say that because I'm half Filipino.

BRAD

And I'm half-Irish.

GREG
(grabs genitals)

Suck on these lucky charms then!
BRAD

Disgusting. That's the luck of the Irish.

GREG

But at the same time, are you by proxy supporting pedophilia if you listen to that? It's the economy of your attention and your money.

BRAD

It's an interesting debate. I was dancing with this thicc chick to “Ignition” at the Applebee’s happy hour last week. But that doesn’t mean I like golden showers, okay? What we did in the handicap bathroom is between us.

GREG

I mean, considering the clues contained in these emails and all the Hollywood donors, this really zeroes in on pedophiles in the entertainment industry. Pedowood is real.

BRAD

Exactly. The Cabal. The ring of satanic pedophiles running this country.
GREG

Yeah, they have these vampire orgies where they harvest andrenochrome. How the hell does Tom Hanks look so young ya think? I couldn't find any on the Silk Road but I'm sure it's out there.

BRAD

Ya gotta tell 'em about andrenochrome.
GREG

Right. Well, based on my Facebook findings, adrenochrome is a mystical psychedelic favored by the global elites for their drug-crazed satanic rites. They torture kids to harvest their oxidized hormonal fear. It's like a real life Monster's Inc. Fuck that movie!

BRAD

Pixar is clearly a front. Speaking of which, you ever hear of The Sisters of Mercy?

GREG

No. What in the heck is that?

BRAD

Some artsy fartsy band pretending to be British. Like everyone in LA. But they dropped the Q bomb with a song called "Andrenochrome" way back in the 80's. The lyrics clearly reference some kind of cabal. Listen to this:

We'll turn away in a passive decision. We'll take the steps through the unmarked door. A look back for another collision, but the boys of the spires are boys no more. Not black and red boys, frightened by the night, the catholic monochrome. The catholic girls now stark in their dark and white, dread in monochrome. The Sisters of Mercy, high tide, wide eyed, sped on adrenochrome. For the Sisters of Mercy, filled with Panic in their eyes, rise dead on adrenochrome.

GREG

Wow. Just wow. I'm beginning to think there's a lot of foreboding stuff from the 80's we just haven't unpacked yet. This didn't just happen overnight. And vaporwave. It’s like this nostalgia for something we never knew. 

BRAD

Then there's that Trumpwave and fashwave stuff. Let's not get the two genres confused!

GREG

Oh, one hundred percent. Two totally different genres.

BRAD

I'm sure there's an anti-fashwave.

GREG

You know what they call that Brad? Drone music.

BRAD
(Tony Soprano voice)

Oh!
GREG
(Tony Soprano voice)
Eh!
GREG

That being said though, we need to focus on the real issue at hand. And that's how many secret messages are out there. Specifically satanism under the cloak of pop music; not just those D&D dweebs like Chris.
BRAD

Yeah, the more I think about it, this is really making me question my musical evolution over the years. I don't know if I want to listen to music at all anymore!
GREG

But you have to, dude. It's the only way we'll get to the bottom of this. It's the whole reason we started Pistols For Peddies and The Freedom For America Podcast. Besides, you only went to Warped Tour once. When you were still a Christian.
BRAD

I guess that's my mulligan? I still love August Burns Red, but I digress. The greater the crime, the greater the obligation required of patriots.
GREG

That Amish band? I always pray for you. When I feel like it.
BRAD

Coming from an atheist that means a lot. But get this: the other day I was vibing out to the sunshine in my car, listening to the radio, and then Wang Chung came on.
GREG

That band from that Pizza Hut commercial in the 80's? Where that kid's having a birthday party?
BRAD

Yep, that's the one.
GREG

You should've changed the station.
BRAD

Well, yeah, but then I got to thinking. We know now that pizza is just a code word for sex. Just what the hell does everybody Wang Chung tonight really mean?
(sings)
Everybody have fun tonight...
GREG
(sings in deep voice)
... everybody gonna come tonight.

BRAD

Ewww.

GREG

Sorry, you gift wrapped that one.

BRAD

Whatever.
GREG

That Justin Bieber "Yummy" video really blew this thing wide open, too. Bieber made it known that he suffered abuse from the elites as a kid via his Instagram story. I saw his face ---
BRAD
(interjects, sings to the tune of The Monkees)

Now I'm a Belieber.
GREG

That's what this has come to, man. We're Beliebers now? What the fuck?
BRAD

Well, let's dial it back a minute. I can't keep up with this shit. When I stumbled upon vaporwave and slowed down reverb music on YouTube, I honestly shrugged it off as a novelty. Somehow the algorithm steered me towards Trumpwave. And let me tell you, it fucking rocks.
GREG

That's what I'm saying, dude. We need a soundtrack for these times and it's just what the doctor ordered. No nonsense, libtard Top 40 shit. Our kinda retro-future. We were Bernie Bro's before the Dems revealed their true colors; that's really what spiraled my trip to the other side. 
BRAD

That's a whole other can of worms. There's a great song I want to play for our dear listeners called "MAGA MILITIA" by the one and only SpiritOf76. Find 'em on Twitter via at SpiritOf76 just like it's spelled with the number. Something inspiring and nostalgic to listen to as we prepare for the Great Awakening. We got a special surprise for y'all after this tune. Smash that play button, Greg.
GREG

You know it.
SOUND: "MAGA MILITIA" BY SPIRIT OF 76 PLAYS.
BRAD

And we're back. What a fucking hit, am I right?
GREG

Hell yeah, that solo hits me where it hurts.
BRAD

I think I'm a little wet to be honest. And it ain't from the diuretic.
GREG

But we got something special next, don't we Brad?
BRAD

That's right. But before that, just a quick word from our sponsors. 
SOUND: AN ADVERTISEMENT PLAYS FOR SOMETHING STUPID LIKE MIKE CERNOVICH'S GORILLA MIND SUPPLEMENTS.
BRAD

And we're back. Let's get this show on the road.
GREG

First of all, it's been hard to keep our anonymity with the deep state peddies after us since this started.
BRAD

Freedom Fighters, before we continue, just remember to stay safe, this isn't your normal feed, alright? You're being tracked if you're listening, so send emails securely; always use a VPN. Okay, tell ‘em about the update.
GREG

Okay, okay. So to be clear free friends, our mission as digital soldiers is wholly intertwined with the latest Q drops. We have new information that contradicts the usual theory about Q's identity and we're working on the clues.
BRAD

Here’s a big hint: it has nothing to do with nuclear clearance but we'll get to that. Not that kind of clearance anyway.
GREG

This all began last week when we got a tip from a listener about a vaporwave song on YouTube. It was a remix of another song, called get this: Take a Q, My Anonymous Lover.
BRAD

Can you fucking believe that? Take a Q, My Anonymous Lover. So who wrote it? Anyone would want to know. Anyone like us anyway. This is where you need to start connecting the dots. We reached out to the remix artist and pretended to like it, so they told us that the song was on a cassette tape they found in a Santa Barbara thrift store. Talk about suspicious. But get this, get this.
GREG

Tell ‘em who made the original.
BRAD

It's by some guy named Bobby... Bridges. 
GREG

So of course we looked him up. And sure enough there's some info out there, minimal at best. We had to dig in, but that's what we do best.
BRAD

Yeah, we have a particular set of skills that make it dangerous for guys like this.
GREG

Well we think Bobby might know Q, or have info, but the craziest part is that...
BRAD

Yea the craziest part is that the song was written... in 1988!

SOUND: RAP AIR HORN REPEATED. DOOR SLAMS SHUT.
BRAD

This would change everything about the timeline. We called everyone on Team Freedom and it was all hands on deck for a good forty eight hours. We found a photo of Bobby on archive dot org... and he kinda looks like a pudgy Kenny Loggins.
GREG

That being said though, how the hell did Portable III stumble on this tape? How did it wind up in a Goodwill? Well, here's the tape of our interview and guys, you're just not gonna believe it.
BRAD

Yeah, we recorded our phone call with Portable-III, who requested they stay anonymous, which we're used to.
GREG

That's our M.O., yo.
BRAD

Here it is Freedom Fighters. Greg, smash that play button.

SOUND: DIAL TONE. PHONE PICKS UP.

PORTABLE III

Hello?
BRAD

Hi, this is Brad. Is this Portable III? Are you Portable III on YouTube?
PORTABLE III

Some might say.
BRAD

Well, are you or are you not the Portable III who remixed the Bobby Bridges song? What are we doing here?


PORTABLE III

Yes, I am that person. Part of the vaporwave culture is artist anonymity. I was just teasing y'all. Thanks for having me on your show.
GREG

Sure, sure. Well, thank you as well. We’ve been looking forward to this. Can you tell us where are you calling from P3?
PORTABLE III

With respect, I must decline this information under the agreed upon conditions of this interview. My accent may provide some clue, even with voice altering software. But this is all I can say now.
GREG

Alright, alright, we'll let that one slide. We know the drill.
BRAD

In any event, thanks as well for sending us the wav file. Walk us through what happened. How did you get the original tape?
PORTABLE III

Well, I wouldn’t say it’s the original tape. There’s got to be a master reel or copy in a vault somewhere. I was traveling through Los Angeles and making my way up the coast. I love to shop at thrift stores in places I’ve never been to before, and Santa Barbara was en route. Figured I’d stop by for a break. Usually the electronics and music sections are the first places I go. It’s like a treasure hunt, you know? And long story short, I found what I found. You never know what you’ll walk out with sometimes. It ended up being a mix of songs from the late 70’s and 80’s. Some were popular songs everyone knows and then there was…
BRAD

Yeah, the Q song.
PORTABLE III

Indeed. All it said was Bobby Bridges on the title and produced by VV, scribbled in sharpie on the case.
GREG

Was there artwork or any additional finds in the tape section?
PORTABLE III

It was just a standard Maxell IEC Type I with normal bias, made in Korea. It looked to be a part of a larger bulk donation, but I didn't rummage much further, so there could be related content, who is to say. The j-card was super yellow from age. It had handwritten track listings, but did have a picture of an attractive blonde woman. Seemed slightly water damaged. Might’ve been from tears, who knows? Bound to have broken a few hearts, that one. I can scan it for you if you’d like. If you think that will help your investigation.
BRAD

Tears. Sure. Lord knows I’ve spilled lots of tears on some blondes, am I right Greg?


GREG

I cry at least four times a day. We gotta check this store out. But yeah, P3, scan it on over.
PORTABLE III

Umm, alright. Same email okay?

GREG

Yeah, that’s fine.
SOUND: TYPING HEARD.
PORTABLE III

Cool, sent.
BRAD

Thanks so much. Big help. So, how involved are you in this P3, were you paid?
PORTABLE III

Paid by who? No, I wasn’t paid. I went shopping for used music and sampled it later. That’s it.

BRAD

Are you real? I mean, are you working for the government? A record label owned by the Clinton Foundation?
PORTABLE III

What?! No. I’m just a music nerd who makes vaporwave. I didn’t ask for this.
BRAD

Ask for what?
PORTABLE III

An interrogation. I post Soviet Vaporwave on the internet. And yes, I’m a real person. Portable III is just my alias, like I said before.
BRAD

Or your battle cry. By Soviet, do you mean communist? You make commie music?
PORTABLE III

Pfft. I mean...
BRAD

It's a simple question. Are you a communist? Are you a Russian agent? Is this some kind of kompromat against Q?
PORTABLE III

I don’t know what you’re smoking, dude, but my politics is more complex than that. I don’t fit into the binary of left versus right. I work with sound to create a world; a feeling, a mood, a landscape. Think of it like a collage. Some might use scissors and glue. I use a DAW. Any work is a product of its time and vicariously influenced by history. Whether it’s political or not is within the eye of the beholder. This is not the only kind of music I make.
GREG

The fuck is a DAW?
PORTABLE III

It’s an acronym for Digital Audio Workstation. What do you use to record this podcast, a reel to reel?

GREG

Of course I know what a DAW is! I thought you might have meant Division for the Advancement of Women. You never know with you people.
PORTABLE III

Well, given the context, DAW was in direct reference to audio production. Whatever.
GREG

Hey!
BRAD

Wait, what? Who do you think you’re talking to, Vapor-brain? Ask my Grandpa who stormed the beaches of Iwo Jima, ask him about communism! I dare you! He’s sittin’ in a recliner with shrapnel in his leg and a thousand yard stare. Maybe you’ll get some words out of him, cause my family’s all out of tries! Go on, I dare you!
GREG

Double dog dare you!
PORTABLE III

Guys, calm down, I think we’re getting off on the wrong foot here. First of all, let's get the history straight: Japan was a fascist regime align with the Nazis, in conflict with the Soviets predating World War II. My music isn’t overtly political, communist, or anti-communist. It’s a variation on a theme. It’s a soundtrack. It has nothing to do with your grandfather or an attack on his values or experience.
GREG

Well why do you call it Soviet Vaporwave then, huh? Why not soy boy minimal electro? How about the soundtrack to your failed revolution? I’m losing count of all these fuckin’ sub genres!
BRAD

It’s getting out of control. I’m drowning in all these waves as much as I am trying to remember all these new pronouns. Just gimme some good old fashioned rock and roll! Some fucking Seger, man! At the end of the day, all I want is some meat, potatoes, and missionary sex. Is that so much to ask?
GREG

Absolutely not. Perfectly normal.
PORTABLE III

Well, listen. There’s something for everyone out there. Everything we do is a performance in one way or another, to fit these molds we find ourselves in. One political ideology does not own a monopoly on truth. As individuals, we're all a malleable, fluid, evolving spectrum. Whether it’s the clothes we wear, music, movies, TV, gender…
BRAD
(groans)

Uggggghh!
GREG

What? Alright, just stop. We went from talking about electronic music and a cool guy who wrote a Q-Anon song. Now you're bringing up the gender thing. You’re making my head hurt, P3.

PORTABLE III

If I could finish, it may seem abstract, but I think this is an opportunity to have a meaningful dialogue, and unpack how these things are connected. I would encourage you both to ---
BRAD
(interjects)

Nope! Nice try snowflake! This ain’t our first rodeo.
PORTABLE III

Why am I even here then? I came to talk about music, not this toxic crap. You’re lucky I scanned that photo before this all went downhill. Cause as long as you have this so-called podcast, no one will ever fuck you. Peace out, virgins. Do Svidaniya! [Russian for goodbye]
SOUND: PHONE HANGS UP. 
The BOYS stew in angry silence.
BRAD

We are not virgins for the record. Of course they hung up. Typical beta move.
GREG

But how about that for a reveal? What he said before virgins sounds a hell of a lot like Russian! So clearly we were supposed to look into this. Clearly this tape was meant to be found. Portable III's just trying to distract us from the truth about Q with this commie red smoke screen.
BRAD

But what does it say, what is Q telling us? You know, let's look into the lyrics.
GREG
(reads lyrics)

I don't know why you drive me crazy. I must be high, want to have my baby? You see pulling up in that used Cadillac, but the back seat ain't so bad, compared to your little shack. Who are you, anon lover? Take a Q, anon lover, tell me how you really feel. Paint me blue, anon lover, tied up in this ferris wheel. Where we go one, we go all, I am ready to heed your call.
BRAD

Just wow. This can't be coincidental. It looks like, and I'm not messing around here, whoever Q is, whoever he is, he knows Bobby Bridges or he is Bobby Bridges. How has CodeMonkey not caught onto this?
GREG

I don't see how that couldn't be a fact, not after these lyrics. It's vague, yet clearly alluding to some kind of trafficking situation.
BRAD

Yeah, but in 1988. Let's look at what was going on back then.
GREG

Beetlejuice.
BRAD

What? Why is that relevant?
GREG

You heard me. Beetlejuice. Clearly satanic. Among other things.
BRAD

Well, Michael Keaton is a leading liberal pedophile after all. 
GREG

Exactly.
BRAD

Looky here, though. That year, the Soviets pulled out of Afghanistan.
 
BRAD

In conjunction with what that commie said about their music, I'm seeing a connection. We just don't have all the puzzle pieces yet.
GREG

In the words of Papa Bear O'Reilly, "Fuck it, let's do it live!"
BRAD

Okay, okay. So where we're heading next is, before the call with Portable III was arranged, we got a contact for a guy we think was Bobby Bridges' Manager back in the 80's. We saw his name pop up a few times, but thought it might be an alias. Maybe witness protection. Kevin got it from the dark web, so it's probably legit. Alright, Greg. Dial it up.

SOUND: PHONE DIAL TONE. PHONE PICKS UP.
TONY RIO

Rio’s phone.
BRAD

Hi, Mr. Rio?
TONY RIO

Who wants to know?
BRAD

Brad from Freedom For America here. I emailed you yesterday?
TONY RIO

Sure, yeah. You're the Bobby fan.

BRAD

Yea, that's us, and no worries, we appreciate your time. What can you tell us about your relationship with Bobby?
TONY RIO

Well he disappeared, you know, sailing accident, after the Painted Cave Fire, summer of 1990. Twenty five fucking years ago. Don't quote me on that. It's hard to remember anything these days. Case is still open.
BRAD

Oh, we didn't know that. If you can't remember everything, what do you remember? Is he dead? Or supposedly dead?
TONY RIO

Well his boat caught fire, on top of his house being burned down with all the others. But the boat, he called it the Dreamer I, it was electrical or something. Burned up in the Santa Barbara harbor.. He's been AWOL ever since. Barbara wasn't on board, thankfully.
BRAD

Who's Barbara?
TONY RIO

His ex-wife. Haven't seen her in years. Lives out in Los Feliz after some time in the desert, last I heard.
BRAD

Wow, we would love to talk to her.
TONY RIO

She ain't hard to find. Be careful. Make sure you wrap it up.
BRAD

Uh, be careful of what?
TONY RIO

Look, be careful. That's all I'm saying. The 80's was a crazy good time. More snow than a blizzard. We were young and poor and then all of a sudden we got money, power, respect, fast boats and loose women. Bobby's music changed with the times. Went from limp dick folk to playboy disco. You gotta, ya gotta slow down though, don't get too involved without protection. Everyone forgot about Bobby, and if he is alive, it's for a reason. You dig?
BRAD

Yeah, we dig. We do. We're just big fans of the song "Take a Q, My Anonymous Lover". You remember that one?
TONY RIO

(Sings to himself)

Take a cue, anon lover, tell me how you really feel...
BRAD AND TONY

(Singing together)

Q-Anon lover, tied up in this ferris wheel. Where we go one, we go all, I am ready to heed your call... 
TONY RIO

Yeah, you know it! Wow did we have fun that weekend. Late 87, I think. Almost makes me miss that son of a bitch.
BRAD

88.
TONY RIO

Okay yeah, right. Right around the time the Soviets were leaving Afghanistan.
BRAD

How do you, what do you, why is that relevant?
TONY RIO

I just remember Vasily, wait, hold on…
SOUND: GARBLED PHONE DISTORTION.
BRAD

Mr. Rio?
SOUND: GARBLED PHONE DISTORTION.
BRAD

Tony, are you there?

TONY RIO

Yeah yeah, sorry. It was the Chinese guy with my Indian food. 
BRAD

Phew. 
TONY RIO
(chews on food)

Hey guys, I gotta eat but listen, just uh, call Barbara but that's it, alright? Come by the Neptune Marina in Del Rey Saturday morning if ya wanna talk. Look for The Pussy Whip.
BRAD

Alright, well that...

SOUND: PHONE HANGS UP MID-SENTENCE.

GREG

I can't even believe it, can you? Honest to God I can't believe my ears.
BRAD

So first of all, Bobby died mysteriously? He was probably murdered if that's the case. Boats don't just light on fire ya know.
GREG

Yeah, no. They're in the water, they don't burn.
BRAD

Also, who was he talking about with the name starting with V? I felt like we were finally getting somewhere. Who is Vasily? Did Barbara mail Portable III the tape with her husband's music? Is it about royalties?
GREG

I bet. Women would kill to live off a dead man's money.
BRAD

What is true, what must be real though, is Bobby Bridges and these unanswered questions. Tony Rio is clearly not telling the whole truth and frankly neither is that commie YouTuber.
GREG

I smell a rat.
BRAD

Okay, so next time we'll follow up on the Barbara lead, meet with Tony, and see if we can't get some more answers. Bobby Bridges knew Q, or he knew something about the satanic peddie cult all the way back in 88. How this coincides with yacht rock or whatever is beyond me. And I don't want to think so, but maybe he's also part of the cult. Maybe he eats children. But I want to believe he doesn't, not the guy who wrote this song.
GREG

We've got to cling onto some kind of hope. That song is it for me.
BRAD

Alright, Freedom Fighters. You heard it first. Until next time, here's Bobby Bridges with "Take a Q my Anonymous Lover". Be sure to smash that like and subscribe button and we'll see you next week. Over and out.

SOUND: "TAKE A Q (ANONYMOUS LOVER)" BY BOBBY BRIDGES PLAYS. 

INT. SANTA BARBARA PUBLIC LIBRARY - DAY

The BOYS enter the Santa Barbara Public Library looking for any articles related to Bobby Bridges in the late 1980's. They approach a LIBRARIAN for assistance at the front desk.

BRAD

Hello ma’am, we wanted to know if you have any microfilm readers?
LIBRARIAN

Well, of course, any time in particular you want to look into?

GREG

1988- 1990 please, anything from this area down to Marina Del Rey.

LIBRARIAN


Not a problem at all. Hang tight, while I grab from rolls.

The LIBRARIAN disappears to the back room, while BRAD and GREG take a seat at the bench across from the desk.
GREG 
(into the microphone)

Okay gang, Brad and I are in the library right now, and we are currently waiting for the microfilm to dive in here.
BRAD 
(into the microphone)

Hopefully we find something regarding Bobby, his boat, maybe something on Tony and the rest of the guys.  Something happened, and we’re going to bring this to light folks, hang tight.
GREG
(whispering)

Here she comes.

The LIBRARIAN returns with 4 rolls of film.
LIBRARIAN

Ok, so, I found 4 rolls which you may find useful. I have 2 for each year 1988 and 1989. Each roll is 6 months full of coverage.  Let me know if you need anything else!

GREG

Thank you so much.
The BOYS head to the back of the Library to a door that has a sign above it that reads “Micro Readers.” The room is chilly and silent, until the machines rev up.
BRAD

I suppose we should have asked how these things work.
The BOYS fumble for a few minutes with whether to put the film side up or down, clockwise or counter, eventually, it sticks.  They feed the film and start scrolling. 
SOUND: MICROFILM READER NOISE.
GREG

Dumb, Dumb, Dumb, Lame, Dumb….

BRAD

Wait! Back it up.
The BOYS come across a Marina Del Rey article regarding the massive boat slip additions to the marina.
BRAD

I wonder if there is a list of the boats that were docked.
GREG

Says here the addition of 500 slips puts the total count, as of 1988, at 5300, making it the world's largest man-made small craft harbor...which means...
BRAD

If you had a boat in LA, it was here...

The BOYS find an article about the Marina City Club.  A sprawling three tower compound that was littered with singles in the 1970s. In the article they find that a huge investor in the property is none other than HOWARD HUGHES.
BRAD

Wow, he had to have been here. I can just picture him and Tony doing drugs off of teenagers in these buildings. We are getting close, G-man.
GREG

Absolutely, this place seems right up his alley.
BRAD

Says here “Dock Master, Brent Winsom, was called to an incident involving fireworks off of slip 32…”
GREG

Okay, here we go….
BRAD

“Three men, individuals unnamed, were lighting several firecrackers while intoxicated, violating the rules of the City Club.  Issue resolved without incident, slip owners fined….” Damnit, well, we can't tell if this is Bobby and company or if this was even the Dreamer.
GREG

Wait, what does that say?
The BOYS come across an article from November 1988, announcing the grand opening of a bar opening called “The Kid Nap”, whose establishment is adjacent to a Day Care Center. The opening is met with heavy criticism by the residents of the City Club.

GREG

Wow, that's as sick as it is clever.  I can only imagine the shady shit that went on there.
BRAD

Here we go.
The BOYS find an article dated back to December 23rd, 1989.  Incident again involving the Dock Master and an individual named ROBERT BRIGSTON.
BRAD

Holy hell, get this: “Dockmaster was called to assist a boat tow located at Slip 47. The owner, Robert Brigston, became irate when he found his boat being towed by the Marina Del Rey Port Authority. The boat was removed for lack of payment, but the owner insisted otherwise, and attempted to climb onto the stern. He repeatedly shouted ‘Do you know who I am?! Do you know who I know?!’ Dock Master began to physically apprehend Robert with the help of a few citizens. Robert bit the ear off of the Assistant Dockmaster, and pushed him overboard in protest. Authorities were called and Officer Calvin Saint Claire arrive on the scene.”
GREG

The boat confiscated was named...

BRAD AND GREG

The Dreamer I!
BRAD

How about that, G-man! We found him!
SOUND: DOOR OPENS. FOOTSTEPS.
LIBRARIAN

Gentleman, so sorry, but I can hear you at the front. I'm going to have to ask you to please lower your voices.
GREG

Uh, yeah, sorry. Actually, we're finished anyway. If you want to take these, I think we are good to go.
LIBRARIAN

You don't have to leave. It just sounded like you were celebrating.
BRAD

You’d celebrate too if you were us. Thanks for the assist, we’ll see ourselves out.

SOUND: THE LIBRARIAN WALKS AWAY.
BRAD

Howard Hughes, the City Club, Fireworks, Coast Guard... what was going on then, man?!
GREG

Sex, drugs, and easy listenin', baby.

BRAD

We now have an arsenal of questions to go over with Tony. We need to get to him immediately.
GREG

Agreed. Once we have Tony on record, hopefully this will start to snowball.
BRAD

We're in it for the long haul, folks. Stay Tuned!

SOUND: MICROFILM ROOM DOORS OPEN AND CLOSE. FOOT TRAFFIC. AMBIENT LOBBY NOISE.
GREG
(to LIBRARIAN)

Who did you vote for if you don't mind my asking?
LIBRARIAN

Oh, I mind.
GREG 

Well, oh, we know!
INT. BRAD’S CAR, INTERSTATE 10 FREEWAY, EAST CA - DAY

BRAD

You believe him?

GREG

Who?
BRAD

Tony, about the girl. Lying about her age.
GREG

Ah, ya know, the guy has lived a pretty wild life.  If she lied, or didn’t, I find it hard to believe. I doubt the guy can remember his own phone number.
BRAD

Would you care about age if she looked old enough? Would you bother to ask?
GREG

I think I would ask just once...
BRAD

Well yeah, obviously.

GREG pulls out a butterfly knife and holds it in front of his face.

BRAD

Hey, what's with the knife, Rambo? 
GREG opens and closes the butterfly knife, repeatedly running the blade along his finger.
GREG

You can never be too sure. Downtown LA, Skid Row, Gangs, Tony Rio.  I just feel like I'd rather have it and not need it than the other way around.
BRAD

Yeah, well, I think your hands will be full with the equipment. you better give that here.

GREG

Wait… I think that was our exit!
GREG glances at his phone and the exit sign.
GREG

Ah, sure was. Let's grab the next one and try to loop around.

BRAD 

I knew I should have held the GPS! Hang on tight.
GREG grabs the hold bars above the window as BRAD cuts across two lanes of traffic.
SOUND: LOTS OF HONKING AND SWERVING.
RANDOM DRIVER #1

Fuck out the way!
BRAD

Well drive then! Fuck you, asshole!
The BOYS make the exit and slow the car down at the traffic stop.
BRAD 

How does the environment change so quickly? This is like the walking dead, but with meth! Okay, let’s keep it together. Where am I going?
GREG 
(Glancing at phone)

Well it says... Oh, no.
BRAD

What?

GREG

Well, we missed the turn...
BRAD

Not again!

GREG

Okay, okay. So it looks like we're hanging a right on 61st and it should loop us back to our path. Nice and easy. I'm starving though. Should we stop? There's gotta be a Chik Filet around here.

The BOYS drive slowly looking around for fast food.

BRAD

C'mon, c'mon on, come on. 

BRAD spots someone selling what looks to be food and bottled water on the concrete median by the traffic light.
BRAD

Hey, look, what's that guy have?
GREG

Who?
BRAD

That Pee Wee Herman lookin' dude over there.
GREG

Looks like a casserole or some shit.
Unbeknownst to the BOYS, The SALESMAN is a well-dressed member of the Nation of Islam selling their famous bean pies.
BRAD

Hello, excuse me, sir!
The N.O.I SALESMAN approaches the car window.
N.O.I. SALESMAN

Gentlemen, I do believe you are lost.  How may I assist in expediting your exit?
BRAD

Sir, we are more hungry than we are lost. What kind of pie is that?

N.O.I SALESMAN

These are bean pies made just this morning by my sisters at Mosque 5 in Compton. In honor of the Honorable Elijah Mohammad, these are sold until 2pm. You will have to buy two as one will not be enough, trust me.

BRAD

Say no more.  Shit, I might buy three...you got cash on you, Greg?
GREG
(Annoyed sigh)
GREG reaches into his wallet. In the background, a low-rider car full of ROLLIN' 60's CRIPS approaches. 
SOUND: CAR ENGINE REVS, HORN BEEPING, GANGSTER RAP SO LOUD THE BASS SHAKES THE WINDOWS.
BRAD

Christ, what now?
GREG

Maybe these pies are popular?
SOUND: CRIP #1 EXITS THE VEHICLE.

CRIP #1
(To N.O.I SALESMAN)

Bruh, the fuck you doin?

N.O.I. SALESMAN

My Brother, I am free to conduct business with whomever I please in the name of the Honor...
CRIP #1

Man, fuck all that Urkel! You don't see the sticker?

The N.O.I SALESMAN pauses before approaching THE BOYS' car. 

BRAD

Dear God, what's on the back?
GREG

Hell if I know, I don't even… oh fuck... the blue line Punisher sticker.
CRIP #1
(to N.O.I SALESMAN)

We got some narco on the block, homey.  
BRAD

Sir! It's not what you think! We just like the comic book!
N.O.I. SALESMAN 
(to CRIPS)

Thank you, young brothers. I will ensure they will not return.
The N.O.I. SALESMAN approaches the passenger window.
BRAD 

Sir, I promise it's not what you think. This isn't even my car!
N.O.I. SALESMAN

But you decide to drive it on this beautiful day.  Through my beautiful neighborhood. Humor me, cave dweller: to whom does this vehicle belong?
BRAD

It's... it's a rental!

GREG

Yeah, yeah! It's a rental!

SOUND: SPLAT! THE BEAN PIE IS SMACKED INTO GREG'S FACE.
The light turns green and The N.O.I SALESMAN walks back to hist post. 
SOUND: CAR FULL OF CRIPS LAUGH AND YELL OBSCENITIES AT THE BOYS AS THEY SPEED AWAY. 
The BOYS sit silently in shock.
BRAD
(sheepishly, to GREG)

... you need a napkin?
EXT. BARBARA BRIDGES RESIDENCE - DAY

SOUND: CAR PULLS UP. IGNITION KEY TURNS ENGINE OFF. BIRDS AND LIGHT BREEZE. CAR DOORS OPEN AND CLOSE.
The BOYS arrive at the residence of BARBARA BRIDGES in West Adams, Los Angeles. The BOYS stand outside of their car and look up at the old home.
SOUND: DOGS AND BIRDS BARK ERRATICALLY, DISTURBED BY BRAD SHUTTING THE CAR DOOR TOO LOUD.
GREG

Damn! Go easy on the door. What have I told you?
BRAD 

Sorry, sorry... well, this is interesting.
GREG 

Rock, Paper, Scissors? 
BRAD

For what?
GREG

For who knocks.
BRAD

Come on, she's an old woman.
The BOYS walk up the stairs. 

SOUND: ASCENDING FOOT STEPS. ANIMALS GETTING LOUDER. 
GREG

Okay, go ahead.
BRAD

Me?! You knock. I drove!
GREG

Yeah, in my car! You have a free hand. My hands are literally full!

BRAD 

Gimme that!


BRAD takes the shotgun microphone from GREG's hands.
SOUND: SHOTGUN MICROPHONE WINDSCREEN NOISE.

BRAD

See, now you're free.

GREG

I had a pie thrown in my face today. You knock on the door!
As the BOYS argue, the front door creeps open, which they do not notice.
SOUND: DOOR CREEKS.
BRAD

She's a senior citizen, why are you so scared?
GREG

Because if it's not just an old woman, I don't want a ravenous dog biting my ball sa ---
BARBARA BRIDGES interrupts before GREG can finish. The animals quiet as she speaks.
BARBARA

I do the ball biting around here boys; at least I used to. And you look like some ripe lil peaches. Next time, make an appointment.
BRAD 

Why, um, hello Ms. Bridges! My name is Brad and this is my assistant Greg.

GREG

Your assistant?!

BRAD

We wanted to know if you would discuss your relationship with Bobby Bridges. And maybe, if you know, tell us how we could find him now.
BARBARA

Bobby? Well here I thought it was going to be an uneventful day. Have a seat, gentlemen. So hot out today. Would anyone like a drink? Water? Ice Tea? Or... 

(flirtatiously, emphasizing syllables)

a mo-ji-to?
BRAD and GREG respond simultaneously, talking over one another.
BRAD

Oh, just a water, please.
GREG

I'd love a Mojito.

BARBARA
(chuckles)
Two 'jitos coming right up. Oh, I better make that three. Make yourselves comfortable. I shall return.
The BOYS make their way to a sofa that's littered with old Vogue and Hustler magazines. FIVE DOGS form a circle around the center of the porch. 
SOUND: DOGS SNIFF. SUBTLE GROWLS. BIRDS CHIRP INSIDE.
GREG

Yo, check out that pile of smut. Geez louise.

BRAD
(to the dogs)

Easy now, poochies. Easy.
GREG 
(whispering)

You think she's in any of these?
BRAD

Not sure, I can believe it though. Wait... where's that album art from Portable III?
GREG

One sec, I got a screenshot on my phone... here, look.

BRAD

Holy shit. That's her!

GREG
(Uncle Jesse, Full House voice)

Have mercy.

SOUND: BARBARA RETURNS WITH DRINKS. ICE CLANKS AS THREE MOJITOS ARE PLACED ON THE TABLE. 

BARBARA

Here you are, gentlemen. 
GREG

Thank you so much.
BRAD

Yes, thank you, ma'am. 
BARBARA

Ma'am? Call me, Barbie, sugar. Cheers.

SOUND: THE THREE TOUCH THEIR GLASSES TOGETHER AND TAKE A DRINK.

BRAD
(coughs, subtly)

Whoa, that's strong.
BARBARA

So what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? What's he done now? The bastard. Bobby's been off the grid for twenty years. Not so much as a post card.
SOUND: BARBARA TAKES A SIP OF HER DRINK.
BRAD

Well, ma'am, we actually aren't sure.  Up until last week we thought he was dead. We spoke with Tony Rio and he said he was back in the states.
BARBARA

Tony? Oh, lordie.
GREG

We found Bobby's music and we just want to know what happened to him. Why did he disappear? Did he know something about the Deep State?
BARBARA

Deep State? Who did that film, was it Chris? My god that man was so unoriginal.

BRAD

What? No, not, not Deep Throat. This is, the Deep State as in...
GREG

Was he abducted or silenced in any way by the government?
BARBARA

The Government? What would they do with Bobby? He was a handsome man with a pretty pecker that never seemed to quit. I'm not sure what the government would see in that. 
(to GREG)
How about you honey? I bet your pecker doesn't quit either. 

GREG 
(nervous laughter)
Um, thanks.

BRAD 

Do you remember Tony Rio?
BARBARA
(wistfully)

Do I remember Tony? He and Blake had the best blow. Handsome, not as handsome as Bobby, but don't tell him that. Took Bobby and I on a trip to Studio 54 one Friday night and we didn't leave until Sunday.
GREG

Did they have beds there?
BARBARA

Honey, they had an entire floor made up of beds.  But who needed a bed? Tony was fantastic. Everything was an adventure with him. He and Bobby were great friends and they shared everything; cars, drugs, me. Never sat well with Vasily. One thing about Tony I remember is that he was always looking over his shoulder. It's like he had a shadow that never left his side. Poor thing.
GREG

Vasily, who is that? 
BARBARA

Vasiliev. He was so in love, but I could never see myself settling down, starting over in Europe, like he wanted. I just couldn't leave Bobby. They were best friends, brothers at one point and produced his last album, never saw the light of day. The fire took that along with Vasily's life.
BRAD

Wow. Hold that thought. Was Bobby political in those days?
BARBARA 

Political? Free weed was about as far as it went. But the "Ready for Reagan" number alienated some fans, I will say. That's when things started to change.
GREG

Whoa? We gotta hear that one. Bobby's music is back, you know. The music is what lead us here, actually.
BARBARA 

Really? I find that hard to believe. The royalty checks dried up faster than my coochie. You know we used to sing together, did you not? I think I may have a tape around here somewhere. Hang on, now.
BARBARA gets up and heads down the hallway, humming a catchy tune. Unbeknownst to the BOYS, it is the BOBBY BRIDGES' single "I Met You Baby (On A One Way Street)".
BARBARA
(sings)

I met you baby on a one way street, cause you're the kind of lover that will play for keeps...
BRAD

We should probably get her to stop drinking. 
GREG

I don't know man, I think she should keep drinking. Who knows what kind of content we can get here?

BRAD

I know, I know, but I don't want to be here longer than I need to be. I don't trust this dog's eyes.

SOUND: DOG GROWLS HOVERING BY BRAD'S LEG.
BRAD
(to DOG)

Chill, buddy. Chill!
BARBARA returns, still humming the song, dancing towards her chair.
BARBARA

Pardon my delay, boys, thought I would slip into something a little more...  comfortable.
GREG

May I ask about the pets?
BARBARA

You just did, sugar.
GREG

Why so many?
BARBARA

I own a shelter just down the road next to Johnny's. This group is my special little project.  They need some extra Barbara in their lives. 
BARBARA does a shimmy shake with her shoulders.
BRAD 

Oh boy, well I'll just take that tape if you don't mind. We just gotta find a cassette play...
SOUND: DOG GROWLS AND BITES BRAD'S LEG.

BRAD
(In pain)

Ah, Shit! Oww! Help, help!
BARBARA
(Yells at dog)

Jasper! No! Bad Boy!
BRAD

Get this thing off of me!
GREG

Hold still!
SOUND: MICROPHONE MUFFLES.
GREG sticks the shotgun microphone into the DOG's anus. The DOG lets out a yelp and runs inside.
BARBARA

Well hello you! Can I be next?
BRAD
(wincing)

Sorry, we have to go! 

BARBARA

You sure, darlin'? One more 'jito for the road?
BRAD

Thank you Barbara, it's been...  educational. Greg, Let's go!
BRAD limps as fast he can down the steps to the car. GREG lingers behind, fixated on BARBARA. 
GREG

B...Bye, Barbara.
BARBARA

Bye, baby. You know where to find me now.
BARBARA leans in and gives GREG a long, firm kiss on the cheek. GREG hurries down the steps to the car. 
SOUND: FOOT STEPS DESCEND. CAR DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES. ENGINE STARTS.
BRAD

I hate toy dogs! They are never trained properly! What's wrong with you?
GREG

These butterflies in my chest won't quit.
BRAD

Shut up, man. Just shut up. Is that lipstick on your cheek? Ugh, it's all over your face!

GREG smiles in silence.

BRAD

Disgusting.
GREG

Jealous much?
BRAD

No, no, no, no. No! Keep your pants on, Romeo. We're on a mission in case you forgot. I won't even ask about the butt stuff. I'm just glad I still have both my legs in tact. I need neosporin.

GREG

Don't ever say I never went out of my way for you.
BRAD

Okay fair, fair. But we need a new pop filter now. What the hell do we even do with this tape now?  

GREG

We gotta get a tape player, obviously. What if we head to the Goodwill down on Carrillo Street where P3 went? Bound to be something there.
BRAD

Yeah, that's on the itinerary anyways.
While the BOYS are collecting themselves in the car, GREG looks up towards the porch, where BARBARA is waving goodbye. GREG slowly waves back.
GREG

I think I need to change my underwear.
BRAD

Well you can get some at Goodwill, too, you freak. 

INT - SANTA BARBARA GOODWILL - DAY

SOUND: BRAD AND GREG EXIT VEHICLE AND APPROACH STORE ENTRANCE.
GREG

Testing, one two, one two. P-P-Platypus. B-B-Barbie. B-B-Bridges. Check, one two.
BRAD

We good?
GREG

Gravy.
SOUND: DOOR OPENS. AMBIENT CHATTER AND SHOPPER TRAFFIC. CASH REGISTER NOISE. DISCO MUSIC PLAYS OVER THE PA SYSTEM.
BRAD

Groovy. Okay, okay. Let’s talk to somebody in charge. 

The BOYS approach the CASHIER as another customer checks out.
CASHIER

Hello, can I help you?
BRAD

I hope so. We’re working on a story about child sex trafficking. It has come to our attention that this location may be involved.
CASHIER 
(gasps)

Oh my god! What on Earth you talk about?
BRAD

Well, you, see. A compact disc was purchased at your store that has some questionable material on it. We’re trying to learn more about who purchased or donated it here. Comprende?
CASHIER

Well, we no keep records of small donation. People go to loading dock, donate, we see, we put sticker. We get so many, is impossible to log everything.
GREG

C’mon, lady. We weren’t born yesterday. Tell us what we want to know. There’s gotta be some records somewhere. Are all of your employees documented?
CASHIER 
(offended)

Yes, we are! And records for wha? We no even have barcodes, sir. Prices are all handwritten or typed. You need warrant or something to see accounting.
BRAD

A warrant? Lady, we are trying to stop satanic child blood suckers that may be laundering money and other materials through your store. Where’s your supervisor? Where’s the Manager? Or should I alert the authorities? You’re not being helpful.
CASHIER

In all my years I work here, this most crazy thing. Why no police? Why you?
GREG

We have a relationship with local law enforcement.
CASHIER

A relationship? I sorry, I no know you, and this very hard, very hard thing. Where is proof?

BRAD pulls the cassette out of his jacket.

BRAD

This! This is all the proof we need!
GREG

Yeah, you can look. But no touch, lady! No tocar!
CASHIER 

I no understand.

BRAD

We figured you’d say that. C’mon, page your boss, Senorita. We ain’t got all day.

CASHIER 
(sighs, over intercom)

Blake, to front register please. Blake to front.
BRAD 
(sulks under breath)

‘Bout time.
BLAKE SHOWALTER, a buff, heavily tattooed, and imposing figure approaches THE BOYS.
BLAKE 
(to cashier)

You alright, Juanita?

CASHIER 
(sternly, in Spanish)

Estos chicos están siendo extremadamente groseros y amenazantes. Pidieron hablar con usted, ¿algo que ver con el tráfico sexual de niños en la tienda? Es una conspiración totalmente absurda. Por favor, aléjelos de mí, tenemos trabajo que hacer (These guys are being extremely rude and threatening. They asked to speak to you, something to do with child sex trafficking in the store? It's a totally absurd conspiracy. Please get them away from me, we have work to do.)
BLAKE 
(grunts)

Entendido. How can I help you?
BRAD 
(nervously)

Um, uh, hello, Sir. My name is Brad.
GREG

And I’m Greg.
BRAD

We’re with the Freedom For America podcast, investigating a possible link to a child sex trafficking ring that may be tied to this location.
BLAKE

A what?
BRAD

Umm, like I said, a trafficking ring that’s tied to a mixtape left in your store recently. Satanism. High society. Deep state. Blood orgies. Real nasty stuff. We believe someone may have anonymously slipped this content onto your shelves. Now it’s blowing up on the dark web and we’re just trying to get to the bottom of it.
BLAKE

Let’s uh, step aside for a minute. Gracias, Juanita. Les daré una patada en el culo si vuelven a abrir la boca (I'll kick their asses to the curb if they run their mouths again).
GREG
(sarcastic)

Yes, thank you, Juanita.

BLAKE and THE BOYS step off to the side of the counter so the other customers can check out.
BLAKE 

What are you guys, JV Five-O? 
BRAD

No, well, not really. Certainly thought about it before. We’re just concerned citizens.

BLAKE

This like a school project or something?

BRAD

No, no. We’re out of school. I’m 24.
GREG

Yeah, I’m 25.
BLAKE

Oh. Ya look younger than that.
BRAD

Well, thanks. But don’t let it fool ya. This ain't our first rodeo.
BLAKE

How does this involve the store? All the staff have undergone thorough background checks. Everything is by the books. And I’m on parole, man. I ain’t about to get caught up or let no shit like this go down. I need this gig as part of my release.
BRAD

Oh, no, well, um, certainly not accusing you or your staff of anything like that, sir. We came here to… we just want you to know what’s going on. Your assistance is most appreciated.
GREG

Yeah, we just want to make sure everyone is informed. So you can more easily identify these people. We have extensive training in this arena.
BLAKE

What kind of training?
GREG

Well, we also run a non-profit called Pistols For Peddies. We dox and hunt down pedophiles. Like Chris Hansen, but with bigger balls. Unfortunately less cameras… just a matter of time.
BRAD pulls out a card from his pocket and hands it to BLAKE.
BRAD

Here, here’s our card. We brought more if you need ‘em.
BLAKE pauses as he inspects the card.
BLAKE

Pistols For Peddies? Sounds to me like you’re providing guns to peddies with a name like that. And you if ain’t putting a piece to a peddie, you might wanna rethink your branding. Prison ain't no friendly place to their kind.

The BOYS awkwardly pause.
BRAD

I guess we never thought about it like that…
BLAKE

So what’s this tape?
BRAD 

Here, take a look for yourself. This is a hi-definition reproduction of the original insert.

BLAKE 
(whispers)

Bobby fucking Bridges.
BRAD

Wait, you know him?
BLAKE

I used to bounce and tend bar at the Red Piano before I got locked up. He played there all the time. I would even call him a friend at one point. But now I know it was the drugs and alcohol talking.
GREG

Holy shit, man. What can you tell us about him? Do you know the song “Take a Q”?
BLAKE 

Rings a bell. Remember a hooker named Queenie round the way he was close to. But it’s been over twenty years, fellas. I had some time with Bobby and his manager, Tony. Times I try to forget.
BRAD

Oh, yeah. We know Tony.

BLAKE

You know Tony?
BRAD

Well, yeah. We talked on the phone. We’re supposed to hang out tomorrow. Seems like a pretty fun guy.
BLAKE

You talked on the phone? With Tony Rio? Shit. Keep your pants on, brother.

BRAD

Wait, why?
BLAKE

Buckle up, all I’m saying. Guy ain’t changed much, last I heard. Just about fuck anything with a hole. Always on the ski lift, if ya catch my drift. The booger beers.
SOUND: BLAKE SNIFFS LIKE HE'S TAKING A BUMP OF COCAINE.
GREG

Well, yeah, we kinda figured that. I personally am not a fan of winter sports, but we never leave home without protection. I took Tae Kwon Doe for a few years.
BRAD

You were in like, 7th grade dude.
GREG 

Yeah, so? It’s like riding a bike. You wanna go for a ride?
BRAD

Did you bring your training wheels?
GREG

Why I oughtta' ---
BLAKE 
(interjects)

Gentlemen, if you’re packing heat, I'mma forget I heard that. Why don’t you two tell me more about why you’re here? This is some serious shit you talkin’.
GREG

Well, it’s like we said. It’s all about that tape and the “Take a Q” song.This could be a major Q Drop that no one is covering yet. We’ve got a line to CodeMonkey.
BLAKE

Fuck is a CodeMonkey?
GREG

Oh, he’s the admin on 4chan and the Q board. You go on there ever? It’s so much fun.
BLAKE

Ain’t got no Internet at home and plan to keep it that way.
BRAD

Wow, old school. I miss my Nokia sometimes. But it don't have GrubHub.
GREG

Yeah, no Tinder either. I'd be lost without my Galaxy.
BLAKE

Uh, okay. Funny you mention that Q though. I hear about 'em here and there, paranoid shit talkin' at the bar mostly. Never paid much mind. Past six months though, people been bypassing the official donation channel here's become a real problem. Every now and then I catch ‘em, kick their ass out on the curb. Usually some punk kids from the city. Puttin’ that satanic pervert shit in the kid section. They try to get ‘em early you know.
BRAD 

Oh, we know. Trust me. It's ANTIFA. The Dem's foot soldiers. Pretty soon they’ll be inventing new letters at this point.
GREG

Blake, um, Mr. Showalter, sir. Would it be possible to get a tour of your facility?
BLAKE

Uh. Okay.

BRAD

Thank you so much. Maybe we should start in the kid section. And then the music?

BLAKE

Alright. Come yonder. They’re pretty much next to each other.
The BOYS follow BLAKE through the store to the adjacent children and electronics sections. 
BRAD

Alright, G-Man, let’s get to work. You take music, I’ll take the kid section. Don't forget to slip some business cards in where you can.
GREG

Right, on it.

Before BLAKE can protest, the BOYS breakout crime scene tape from their book bags and seal off the areas. A confused MOTHER and HER CHILD are in the children’s section.

GREG
(to MOM)

Sorry Mam, this is a crime scene. Please move along. We’ll be done shortly, God willing. Thank you for your cooperation.
BRAD breaks out his trusty Portable Mobile Contraband Detector.
SOUND: DETECTOR BEEPS.
BLAKE

Shit, man. I need me one of them. Where’d you get it?
BRAD

Amazon Prime! And yes, you do. It’s a game changer. We’ve discovered a lot of contraband with this thing.
BLAKE

What kind of contraband?
BRAD

Mostly drugs. Y’know, stuff that peddies like to share with kids. Mostly downers, hallucinogens, sometimes party stuff.
BLAKE

Huh. Good to know.
The BOYS continue to scan the area.
BRAD

Lotta classics here, Greg. Arthur, Strega Nona, Cut Ups, Dr. Seuss.
GREG

Nice. “If I Ran The Zoo” was always a fave in my house.

BRAD

Ditto. Somethings just never go out of style, ya know?
GREG

Exactly.
SOUND: DETECTOR CONTINUES BEEPING.
BRAD

Curious George's Pizza Party. Weak pulse. 
As the BOYS scan the aisles, BRAD’S detector starts to beep erratically.
SOUND: LOUD, CONSISTENT BEEPS FROM DETECTOR AS THEY APPROACH THE SOURCE.

BRAD

I think I got something!
BRAD continues to scan until it settles on an old, dusty VHS tape. BRAD pulls the tape off the shelf.
BRAD

“Who Is Carl Zeiss?” What kinda title is that?
GREG

What the hell? Is that yogurt covering a camera lens? Dripping from those fingers?
BRAD

Fuck if I know. It’s like the camera got too close to the money shot.
GREG

Gloves, dude! Gloves! 
BRAD

Uhh, gross! You’re right! Where they at? We gotta dust for prints and get fluid samples.
GREG hands BRAD a pair of rubber gloves. BRAD inspects the VHS tape.
BRAD

The cartridge. It looks kinda loose, right?
GREG

Yeah. You got your screwdriver?
BRAD

You know it. Blake, is this cool? Something’s in here.
BLAKE 
(looks around)

Uh. Yeah. Sure.
BRAD carefully disassembles the VHS tape housing with a small screwdriver. BRAD holds the tape gently and shakes it. A small bag of white powder falls onto the floor. 
GREG 
(whispers)

Oh, shit!
BRAD 
(whispers)
Whoa, what the fuck, is that coke?! Careful, it could be anthrax!
BLAKE intervenes before anything and picks up the bag.
BLAKE

Only one way to find out.
BLAKE opens the zip-lock bag, dips his finger in the powder, and lightly sniffs the substance before rubbing it on his gums.

BLAKE

Oh, this is some real shit. I, uh, I better hold onto this for the proper authorities, boys.
BRAD

Yeah. Good idea. Should we submit the tape as evidence, too?
BLAKE

Uh, yeah. If you feel like it.

BRAD

Cool, cool. You wanna call the cops or should I? My cousin, he ---
BLAKE

Nah, it’s cool. I’ll handle it.
GREG

Okay, well, we do have a VHS converter at home. We could digitally preserve this thing and provide to the authorities, if you wanna lock up the powder. The cops may be able to determine what drug dealers it came from.
BLAKE

Yeah, sure. You take the tape. It’s uh... on the house.

GREG

Whoa, cool. Thanks Blake. Say, do you guys have any cassette players as well? We're in the market.
BLAKE

Believe so. Got some decks at the front desk. Juanita will check you out. Be nice this time, ya heard?

GREG

Uh, yes, yes of course.

BRAD

So yeah, you wanna call the cops Blake? We can keep the section roped off til they get here, we don’t mind.

BLAKE

We don’t wanna cause a scene just yet. To be honest fellas, I have a lot of work in the back office to catch up on before close. Gotta work the night shift at the Piano, too, so I, uh, I’m gonna put in this stuff in safe keeping. Don’t worry, it ain’t going anywhere.
GREG

Oh, uh, okay. Right. They could be infiltrated. Maybe we’ll swing by later?
BLAKE

Sold out show, I'm afraid. Guest list full. Appreciate your help though. Now, I gotta get back to work. Come back soon, y’hear? Back them blue.

SOUND: BLAKE PATS THE BOYS HARD ON THE BACK.
GREG 
(whispers)

Ah, my disc!
BRAD

Uh okay, see ya sir.
BLAKE walks away. In the distance, he can be hard shouting to a nearby co-worker. 
BLAKE

Hey, Tonya! Meet me in the break room, babe! I got something to show ya.
BLAKE lets out a deep, guttural laugh.
GREG

Did he wink when he said “Back the Blue”?
BRAD

I don’t know, I don’t know. Something’s off.
GREG

Should we keep scanning?
BRAD

I don’t know, man. We might need to come back. In disguise.
GREG

I ain’t dressing up in dra---
BRAD 
(interrupts, shushing)

Chill, man. Chill.
GREG

Okay, okay. Sorry. You triggered me.
The BOYS approach the checkout counter and see the Sony Walkman.
BRAD
(to the CASHIER)

Um, excuse me, Senorita. Sorry about earlier. Blake told us to get that yellow Sony Walkman over there. 

JUANITA aka the CASHIER takes the cassette player from the shelf and places it on the counter. 
SOUND: BUTTONS PUNCHING ON A REGISTER.
CASHIER

Ten-fifty, please.
BRAD

Ten-fifty! But this is just some ol--
GREG
(nervously interjects)

No worries, mam! We'll put it on the company card!
GREG HANDS JUANITA HIS DEBIT CARD.
GREG

Muchas gracias. 
JUANITA hands them the merchandise.
BRAD

Hasta la vista... baby.
CASHIER
(mutters 'asshole' in Spanish)
Capullo.
The BOYS walk out the front door and into the parking lot.
BRAD

We better get this tape preserved. A-S-A-P.
GREG

Absolutely. Make note of Carl Zeiss. We should check in with the Q board, too.
BRAD

Hear, hear. Let's see if this thing works. Lemme borrow your headphones.
GREG hands BRAD his headphones. BRAD interests the demo tape into the Sony Walkman. The tape starts to play, only to jam a few moments later. 
BRAD

Ah, what the fuck?! This thing's gone haywire!
BRAD opens the cassette door. The tape has become unreeled from its housing. 
GREG

Aw, dude! That's it, I'm going back for a refund!
BRAD

Fuck it, man. We gotta cut our losses today. Blake could kill us with his bare hands. Here, let's put it the Pelican case, we might be able to salvage this thing at a repair shop.
GREG

Bummer. We were so close, dude. 
BRAD

To be continued. Who knows, the song could be buried online somewhere like the others. Let's get to this freaking hotel and collect ourselves.
INT. HOTEL ROOM,LOS ANGELES, CA - NIGHT

BRAD and GREG lay on separate queen size beds.
SOUND: AUDIO EQUIPMENT FIDGETING. 
GREG 

Testing, Testing. One, two. Testing, Testing. One, two. Bar-bar-a had bo-dacious bon-gos.

BRAD
Oh, get over yourself. That lipstick is still on your freaking face.
GREG
(wistfully)
I may never wash it off. 
BRAD

Can you imagine the times they all must have had? We thought the guy was dead. 
GREG 

They had it all, the access and the excess.  But at what cost? Barbara is still hot but kind of looks like a melted candle now. Imagine what Bobby looks like?
BRAD walks to the window and peers through the blinds.

BRAD

You ever wonder how many pedophiles you're surrounded by at any given moment?
GREG 
(raising up in the bed)

No.  Now that you mention it, I only ever imagine pedophiles indoors. But that’s known pedophiles,  there are so many pedophiles that aren't discovered. They could be anywhere. What was the rating on this hotel?
BRAD

It was 52 dollars, what do you think the rating is?

GREG gets out of the bed and joins BRAD at the window. Together they stare between the blinds, out into the parking lot.
GREG

You thinking what I'm thinking?
BRAD

I'm thinking I am.
BRAD AND GREG

Stake out!
The BOYS gather their equipment and head back to the window. Outside in the parking lot, a suspicious MAN walks towards his car.
BRAD

Jean shorts, twelve o'clock. Is his shirt tucked in? Any bandanas in his back pocket? This could be a cruisin' spot, too, ya know.
GREG

I'm not sure, can't tell...
BRAD 

Let's grab his plates. 
GREG reaches into his night bag and pulls out a bottle of water along with some meats and cheeses.
GREG
(chewing)

Ya know, I could get used to this.  I can see the headlines now. “Two Patriots crack pedophilia ring on the hunt for legendary yacht rocker.” A lot of these people have money ya know… we could always blackmail them for a nice chunk of change and then turn them in anyway. Hell, depending on who we find we could maybe even get something like a car, or a boat.
BRAD

Or information.
GREG stops chewing.
BRAD

They could probably find someone for us, huh?
GREG

Someone who a lot of people were thought to be dead…
BRAD

We’re going to be awhile, G-man. Grab some shut eye. I'll take the first watch. Four hour shifts. I'll see ya at 2:15.
GREG

Sounds good, Beeman.

BRAD
(confused)
Beeman? Why? Why not B-MAN?

GREG climbs into bed.
GREG

We can't be G-MAN and B-MAN.
BRAD

We’re not, I called you G-MAN because it sounds like G-MEN and we are staking out...
GREG 
(rubbing his eyes)

I got the reference.
BRAD

So why did you call me Beeman?
GREG

I didn't want you to feel bad that I didn't think of a nickname for you.
BRAD

Do you want to call me Beeman?
GREG dozes off. BRAD positions himself at the window to begin his watch. Before long, BRAD hears a van door shut, and wakes himself up.
BRAD

Well, well, well.
BRAD sees a BALD MAN in a leather jacket fumbling with something through the side door of the van. 
BRAD

Holy shit. Greg wake up, man. Wake up!
GREG is sound asleep.
BRAD 
(whispering)

Greg! this is it. 
GREG is unresponsive. BRAD decides to take matters into his own hands, rifling through the bag to find the butterfly knife.
BRAD
Fuck it.
SOUND: BRAD SLOWLY OPENS THE DOOR AND APPROACHES THE MAN AT HIS CAR.
The man is a stocky, tall person with a Russian accent.
BRAD

Excuse me, friend. 
RUSSIAN 
(shoo-ing away)

I need nothing.
BRAD 
(stern, but nervous)

Sir, please stand back. I need to see what's in the van!

RUSSIAN
(chuckles dismissively)

Go back inside, little boy.

BRAD advances.
BRAD

Sir, sooner or later the universe puts you in a position to do the right thing. Your whole life it creeps you toward a singular moment that defines you as a person. That moment is the first of many for those who answer that call, who look danger in the face and say ‘not this time, not while I am here’
 
(louder as he gets closer)

Now your whole life has brought you here in front of me and I in front of you, so, pal, I say again. Show me your hands!
BRAD attempts to do a trick with the butterfly knife, but accidentally cuts himself.
BRAD

Ahh, shit!
Before BRAD can recover, THE RUSSIAN confronts him.
SOUND: THE RUSSIAN THROAT PUNCHES BRAD, CUTTING HIM OFF. BRAD FALLS TO HIS KNEES, CHOAKING.

RUSSIAN 

Little man, I told you I need nothing! You come to me with your child knife tricks? You have no idea what you do. I am Bratva!
SOUND: BRAD STRUGGLES TO BREATHE.
BRAD grabs the knife off the ground. Before he can do anything, THE RUSSIAN intercepts it, placing a firm grip on BRAD's wrist, immobilizing him, causing him to drop the knife again. 
RUSSIAN 

Never bring a knife to a gun fight, little boy!
THE RUSSIAN switches his grip from BRAD's hand to his throat, and pulls out a pistol, placing it to BRAD's temple.

BRAD 
(gasping)

G-G-G-Give...
RUSSIAN

What you say? Huh?
BRAD

G-G-G-ive me...the girl.
RUSSIAN

The girl? Hahaha!

THE RUSSIAN lets go of BRAD's throat.

SOUND: BRAD FALLS TO PAVEMENT GASPING FOR AIR.
RUSSIAN

You want to see girl? You need love?
BRAD 
(gasps)
Y-Y-Your van. 
(coughs)
Let her go. You don't have to do this.
The RUSSIAN bangs his fist on the side of the van.

RUSSIAN 
(in his native tongue)

Говорите! [speak!]
SOUND: RAPID, MONSTROUS DOG BARKS FROM INSIDE THE VAN.

RUSSIAN
(laughs)

Don't move, little boy! I show you my girl! She ready!

BRAD races back to the hotel room. 

RUSSIAN

She wants to please you! Come back!
(barks like a dog)
Arff! Arff!

SOUND: BRAD OPENS AND SLAMS THE HOTEL DOOR BEHIND HIM. THE RUSSIAN LAUGHS AND BARKS LIKE A DOG IN THE DISTANCE, GETS IN HIS CAR, AND DRIVES AWAY. 
A distraught BRAD places his back against the wall, sliding himself down to sit on the floor. GREG fidgets in the bed, half-asleep.

GREG 
(groggy)

Hey buddy, knife's in my bag if you need it...
BRAD sits at the edge of his bed and lets out a deep sigh.
EXT. TONY RIO’S HOUSE BOAT - MARINA DEL REY - LATE MORNING

The BOYS walk the dock as the late morning sun behind them warms the wet wood beneath their feet.
SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, BOATS, SEAGULLS, AND BOATER CONVERSATION IN BACKGROUND.

BRAD

So do we just knock on the, I dunno, the side of the boat, or something?
GREG

I don’t know, man. He said he’d be out here. I don’t want to be rude, but like, eleven o clock means eleven o clock, like, don’t waste our time, bro.
SOUND: BRAD KNOCKS ON THE SIDE-RAIL OF THE BOAT.
BRAD 

You never wanna be rude. If it were up to you we’d just stand here all day waiting politely.

SOUND: BRAD KNOCKS IMPATIENTLY AT A STEADY RATE.
There is no response on the boat. 
BRAD 

Come on man, where the fuck is this guy? Hey Tony! You in there?

GREG 
(nervously)

I don’t know if yelling is the...
BRAD 

Tony! Hey, Tony! Earth to Tone-eeee!
SOUND: A COMMOTION IS HEARD FROM WITHIN THE BOAT.
TONY RIO

Holy Shi...what the hell time is it? Who's out there? Whattaya want?
GREG

Uhh, Mr. Rio. It's Brad and Greg. Freedom For America. We have a meeting this morning.

TONY RIO

Aye, keep your voice down! I'll be right there.

SOUND: MORE SHUFFLING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE-BOAT. A YOUNG WOMAN'S LAUGHTER. 
TONY appears from behind the curtains. A scantily dressed YOUNG WOMAN ducks under TONY's arm in the doorway as she pulls a sarong around her waist.
DAHLILA

Adeus, Tony. Call me!
TONY kisses DAHLILA and gives a genial slap on the butt. 
SOUND: DAHLILA SCAMPERS UP THE STEPS, ONTO THE DOCK, TOWARDS THE BOYS. 
TONY RIO
(lights joint and holds in a hit)

Dhalila, always a pleasure!
DAHLIA 
(to the BOYS)

You boys are lucky; he’s in a good mood.
SOUND: DAHILIA WALKS AWAY.

TONY RIO
(to THE BOYS)

Damn, I had it in my head we were on for Saturday. Gimme a second to uhh, rebrand myself, fellas. Come onboard.
TONY heads back behind the curtain. As he gets dressed, there is more commotion from inside.
SOUND: RUMBLING THROUGH BELONGINGS. UNINTELLIGIBLE CURSING IN PORTUGUESE.   
The BOYS wait in uncomfortable silence and trade confused looks.
TONY RIO 
(shouts from inside)

Hey! I think there are a few Landsharks in the cooler out there; help yourselves. Jimmy gives me a promo account with his distributor.
GREG 
(mutters)

It’s eleven in the morning.
BRAD

It’s five o’clock somewhere, man.

SOUND: BRAD REACHES INTO THE COOLER, GRABS A BEER, AND POPS IT OPEN. TONY RE-EMERGES.
TONY RIO

Sorry bout that boy-os…
(inhaling and holding the toke) )
Could’ve sworn we said Saturday.
GREG

Today is Saturday.
TONY RIO

‘Course it is. What did you guys need again?
BRAD 

To talk about Bobby Bri...
TONY RIO
(interjects)

Bobby! Right. You want to know about Bobby. Something about a radio show or something?
GREG

Podcast.
TONY RIO
(exhales smoke)

Podcast, okay. Tell ya what: why don’t we take the ol' whip out on the coast? I tell you everything there. I can show you the place Bobby went missing. It's my day off. But then again, every day is my day off!
BRAD

Hmm, sounds chill, man. It's a beautiful day after all. G-Man go grab the gear bag from the Prius.
GREG

Fine.
TONY RIO

Yeah, grab a couple bags of ice from the cooler by the office while yer at it. Just have ‘em put it on my account.
GREG 
(annoyed)

Anything else while I’m at it?

EXT. SANTA BARBARA COAST - TONY'S BOAT - LATE AFTERNOON
SOUND: BOAT MOTOR. OCEAN WAVES RIPPLE. SEAGULLS. BEER CAN OPENS.
TONY RIO steers his boat, THE PUSSY WHIP, along the California coast. The BOYS relax, sip beers, and take in the scenery.
TONY RIO

What a day my brothers, what a day for boat life! Let's get some tunes going. Dig those tapes out. I let you dee-jay this round, haha!
GREG

Wait. You got a tape player?
TONY RIO

It's the only way I listen to music. Over there, port side, by the ammo.
BRAD

Say, Tony. I think we got the jammer right here.
BRAD holds up the demo tape BARBARA gave them, but the tape is still unwound from the housing.
TONY RIO

What the fuck is this? Don't you know how to wind that shit up? 
BRAD

Uhh, no sorry. I was hoping you might? I am purely digital.
TONY RIO

Amateur hour, give it here.
BRAD hands TONY the cassette. TONY holds his right index finger in front of them.

TONY RIO

Hmm. I recognize this handwriting. But, okay, you see my finger? Watch.
TONY feeds the tape back into the housing with his right index finger. 
TONY RIO

See? Now it works. Go on.

BRAD

Wow, that was so easy. You have no idea what this means.
GREG

Yes, finally!
TONY RIO

Well, it better be good then!
BRAD

Oh you'll see, I bet you're gonna love this!
TONY RIO

I like the vibe, I like the vibe. Put that shit on! Haha!

SOUND: CASSETTE TAPE INSERTED. PLAY BUTTON PRESSED. TAPE HISSES BEFORE THE DUET OF "I MET YOU BABY ON A ONE WAY STREET" SUNG BY BOBBY AND BARBARA BRIDGES COMMENCES.
GREG

Yeah, Tony, guess what? Good ol Barbara gave this to us! Said it was a demo she and Bobby recorded way back when.


BRAD

The player we bought at Goodwill shit the bed, but you had the fix all along. Cheers, Tony! 
TONY RIO is silent as the demo plays. BRAD notices something is wrong.
BRAD

Tony, you alright there captain?
The song continues to play. As the pre-chorus kicks in, TONY RIO starts to wipe his eyes behind his sunglasses and sniffles from sadness. 
BRAD

Tony? You okay?
GREG

Were you and Barbara... involved?
TONY RIO
(sadly speaking in Portuguese)

Você é tudo pra mim... Barbara. She was my water; I was just a wave.
BRAD

I'm sorry. We didn't mean to upset you.
TONY pours a small mound of cocaine on his hand and takes a big sniff.
TONY RIO

Fuck it! The past is the past. This boat ain't called The Pussy Whip for no reason! Put on something I can dance to!
THE BOYS fumble through a case full of cassettes. GREG pulls one out.
GREG

How about this one? Uh, Sergio... Mendes?
TONY RIO

Now you talkin'! From my country! Haha Greg-man! Pass me another beer!
GREG passes TONY a beer from the cooler.
SOUND: BRAZILIAN YACHT ROCK CASSETTE PLAYS.
TONY RIO

Ah, much better! Much better! Here, here, hit this shit!
TONY tosses the BOYS a vile of cocaine.
BRAD
Uhh, I don't know, Tony. I think I'm good on beer.
TONY

I said hit this shit! How do I know you're not a cop?
The BOYS look at each other concerned.
TONY RIO

Don't be a pussy. You wanna know about Bobby? This is my insurance policy.
GREG

I guess he does have a point. How bad can one hit be?
TONY RIO

See? See? Greg-Man is no pussy. He's a real man. What are you, Bradley? Huh? Huh?!

TONY undoes his belt and slaps it violently against the boat.
TONY RIO

 Pussies get the whip! Haha!
GREG takes the vile from BRAD.
TONY RIO

Yes, Greg-Man, yes. Sprinkle some on your hand and sniff it up! It's a party time!
GREG sprinkles the white powder onto his hand and takes a sniff.
GREG

Whoa... damn.
BRAD

Okay, okay, okay. Fine! Gimme that.
BRAD takes a snort of the white powder.
TONY RIO

Haha! Yes my brothers! You avoid the whip! We are almost to location, almost!
The sun is now setting on the Santa Barbara coast as THE PUSSY WHIP approaches the scene of BOBBY's disappearance. Suddenly, a boat can be scene along the horizon. 
TONY RIO

Boys! I see something! Bradley, look through binoculars!
GREG

Hey, Tony, you gotta any more of that stuff? Haha!
TONY RIO

Haha! Yes, for you! I like you, Greg-Man, I like you a lot. Here!
TONY fumbles in his glove compartment for another vile. 
TONY RIO

Here, catch!
TONY tosses the vile to GREG, who does another line. Little does he know that the vile is not cocaine, but angel dust.
BRAD

Holy shit, guys! The boat! It says The Dreamer II on it! This has to be his new boat, this can't be real! 
TONY RIO

What!? Impossible! Gimme that!
BRAD hands the binoculars to TONY. TONY looks through them, slowly suspending the viewfinder beneath his eyes.
TONY RIO
(whispers)
Mother fucker...
BRAD

Is it him!? Is it Bobby?!
TONY RIO

There's only one way to find out.
TONY revs the boat engine and steers towards the mysterious boat in the distance. As they get closer, TONY slows down, and picks up the megaphone.
TONY RIO
(via megaphone)

Bobby! Bobby is that you?
SOUND: A JACK-RUSSEL TERRIER BARKS FROM THE DEN OF THE DREAMER II INCESSANTLY.
TONY RIO
(via megaphone)

Bobby! Bobby! It's Tony, my brother! We come in peace!
SOUND: A FLARE GUN IS FIRED FROM THE DREAMER II AND HITS THE DECK OF THE PUSSY WHIP. 
BRAD

Ah shit!
GREG

Shit! 
SOUND: COMMOTION. SMOKE. COUGHING.
TONY throws the smoking flare into the water.
TONY RIO
(via megaphone)

Son of a bitch, Bobby! I said we come in peace! It's Rio! Tony Rio!
SOUND: FIREWORKS ARE SHOT FROM THE DREAMER II AND HIT THE DECK OF THE PUSSY WHIP. ONE OF THE FIREWORKS IGNITES GREG'S SHORTS ON FIRE.
GREG
(screaming)
Ahh, I'm burning! I'm burning!
Thinking fast, BRAD pushes GREG into the water.
SOUND: GREG SPLASHES AND THRASHES IN THE WATER.
GREG

I can't swim!
BRAD

Oh shit, sorry dude, I forgot!
TONY RIO

G-man! Here, here! Grab the pole! Pull yourself to me!
TONY extends a pole for GREG to hold onto.
SOUND: GREG COUGHING, TRASHING IN THE WATER.
GREG
(screams)
Mama!
TONY and BRAD lift GREG back onto the boat.
BRAD

Hey, I just saved your life man!
GREG

And then you almost ended it, you asshole!
TONY RIO

Goddamnit! He's getting away. We gotta hurry!
During the commotion, THE DREAMER II accelerates into the distance. 
SOUND: A JET SKI TRAVELING AT HIGH SPEED FROM THE DISTANT SHORE CAN BE HEARD COMING TOWARDS THE PUSSY WHIP.
TONY RIO

What the fuck?
GREG 
(assertive yet paranoid)

What the hell was in that vile man, man? I think I'm trippin' balls here!
BRAD

Greg, it's cool, it's cool. You just had a little much.
TONY RIO 

I don't know! I...
GREG 
(interjects)

Whaddaya mean you don't know?

SOUND: RAPID MACHINE GUN FIRE WHIZZES PAST THEIR HEADS.

TONY RIO

Take cover!
BRAD and GREG hide behind whatever they can find. TONY takes his long-gunner out of storage, mounting it on the plate, loads a clip, and prepares to return fire.  
TONY RIO

Donald said it was that fine Columbian, but maybe I accidentally grab some dust, so yes, I ---

SOUND: SUPPRESSING FIRE.
TONY RIO

Don't... 
SOUND: SUPPRESSING FIRE.
TONY RIO
Know...

SOUND: SUPPRESSING FIRE.
TONY ducks below the gunnel and panting, takes a sickening pull from the tequila bottle. BRAD tries to shout above the multiple conflicts from his hiding place.
SOUND: NEW BANANA CLIP CLICKS INTO THE WEAPON. TONY'S GUNFIRE RESUMES AS DOES THE ASSAILANT'S.
BRAD 

Are you seriously stopping for a drink right now?!
TONY RIO

It's the only alcohol that isn't a downer. So yeah, I'm drinking tequila right now. Tell me this doesn’t jack you up; I get high offa’ gun powder! Whooo!
SOUND: A BURST OF FIRE FROM TONY'S MACHINE GUN. DIRECT HIT. THE JET SKI TOPPLES OVER, CRASHING INTO THE OPEN SEA ABOUT TWENTY YARDS AWAY. TONY CIRCLES THE BOAT BACK TOWARDS THE SCENE, ADJACENT TO THE FLOATING CORPSE.
TONY RIO

Bradley, help me get this guy on here. G-Man don't look so good.
BRAD and TONY pull the corpse onto the boat deck. A white male of Eastern European descent's face is uncovered beneath a balaclava. TONY spots a tattoo on his hand of Russian Mafia origin.
BRAD

Wait, that's the same tattoo of the dude from the parking lot last night! They must've followed us!

TONY RIO 
(muted, angrily to himself)

Vasily... 
SOUND: TONY PUSHES THE CORPSES OVERBOARD, BACK INTO THE SEA.

BRAD

What, what the fuck just happened?
SOUND: TONY LIGHTS A CIGARETTE. INHALES, EXHALES.
TONY RIO

That tattoo. Reminds me of ‘87 when Bobby and Vasily were writing the record... 
BRAD
What?
TONY RIO

If you want to know what happened to Bobby, you have to look into Vasily. There is no Bobby Bridges without Vasily Vasiliev. If you see that sign, you run.

(takes a cigarette drag)

Be careful what you wish for.