(Amir is holding the camera. Just around the corner, Jake is filling his arms with telephones. Suddenly, Amir comes out and
surprises Jake, making him drop the telephones.)
Amir: Woo!
Jake: God!
Amir: Oo, my lord, it's time for the Astronaut Accountants featuring Ace and Jocelyn!
Jake: What the fuck are you doing?
Amir: Basically, we're two astronaut accountants from outer space. You're Ace, good-looking ladies guy—
Jake: I don't care—
Amir: —and I'm Jocelyn, your sort of sidekick, a little more cute, but I still get pussy, but not as much as you because I
don't look as good in jeans. And basic—
Jake: Will you help me pick these up? Please?
Amir: (Inspecting a telephone) Oh my gosh! What a find! What are these weird plastic rods? Who am I supposed to call with
them? I have no idea I'm fr—
Jake: So you know they're for calling people, but you don't—but you think they're foreign rods. But they're for calling people
definitely. Right?
Amir: Stick to the script, brotha. Let's cut. Let's—
Jake: What script?
Amir: I emailed you a script.
Jake: When?
Amir: Right before I got here, like 10 seconds ago.
Jake: Oh my god, Amir, wha—what do I say to that? You know that that's stupid, right?
(Amir is in the bathroom, holding the camera)
Amir: They can't go anywhere without being together, not even the bathroom.
Jake: (From one of the stalls) I can hear you, and you better not fucking tape me, Amir.
Amir: (Putting the video camera over the stall door) What's that, Ace?
Jake: Oh my—
(Jake throws a roll of toilet paper at the camera)
Amir: Oh my—!
(THE END scrolls three times very quickly Star Wars style)
(Jake is sitting at his desk talking on his phone. His words have been edited and pieced together to make him say the
following line.)
Jake: Until next time, you're my best friend, Jocelyn.
(Amir is talking into the camera in some random room)
Amir: You're my best too, Ace.