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NAN. (Continued:) What.
(gasp) Truck.
NAN. WHAT.
Wrecked the truck.
NAN. Oh you did not-
Hit a tree, Hit a deer then a tree, mainly a tree.
NAN. You killed a deer.
It's in the back. Truck's cracked. Barely made it home 'fore the thing gave out. But listen - seriously - What the hell is all this. I mean I'm sorry... For whatever. The truck? Is it the truck?
NAN. KYLE
(Scared:) Don't do this, whatever this is-
(Calm:) Where'd you find the duct tape?
(Scared:) WHAT do you WANT FROM ME?!
NAN. SHUT THE TRUNK, KYLE
(NAN cues SWEETHEART to re-tape his mouth.)
Waitwaitwait
NAN. I don't care what you wear, you're playing yourself. COME ON
(she hangs up)
Wait
(Squeal)
SWEETHEART. Oh my god! It's perfect!
(They run out the front door.)
(Long beat. KYLE in the chair. KYLE looks at us. Pleads.