Charlie sits at the bar, effortlessly charming a woman across from him. Alan walks in, nervously clutching a paper bag.
ALAN:
Charlie, why do you always drag me to this place? The noise, the crowds, the smell—it’s like a sauna for bad decisions.
CHARLIE:
Relax, Alan. This is where the magic happens. Plus, no one here asks questions about your “tofu cleanse.”
ALAN:
I’m not here to drink. I’m here because Jake’s lost his phone somewhere in the parking lot and it’s got all our contacts.
Charlie sips his drink.
CHARLIE:
Let me guess — you want me to go on a wild goose chase while you sulk at the bar?
ALAN:
Yes. And bring me a double. It’s going to be a long night.
Jake stumbles in, phone-less and frustrated.
JAKE:
Guys! My phone is gone! How am I supposed to Instagram my breakfast now?
CHARLIE:
Priority number one, obviously.
[LATER – AT THE BAR]
Charlie is chatting up a bartender named Mia, who’s unimpressed.
MIA:
You really think your pick-up lines work on anyone other than yourself?
CHARLIE:
Hey, if self-love is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
Alan returns, looking defeated.
ALAN:
No phone. No luck. And I spilled my drink on some guy’s shoes.
JAKE:
So, what’s the plan now?
CHARLIE:
Plan? There’s no plan — just improv, charm, and a lot of apologies.
[TAG SCENE – BAR PARKING LOT]
Jake spots a glint under a car. He retrieves the phone.
JAKE:
Victory!
ALAN:
Thank God. Now maybe we can leave before someone calls the cops on Charlie.
Charlie raises his glass.
CHARLIE:
To surviving another night out with the Harper disaster duo.
