We cut to the prison cell which houses THE WIZARD. A guard walks by.

Guard: MAIL FOR...

He pauses. He blinks.

Guard: The...Wizard?

The Wizard's hand shoots through the bars. The guard eyes him.

Clarence Hill: It's a nickname.

With a hard eye roll, the guard hands the letter over. The Wizard takes a seat on his mattress. His cell mate, on the top bunk, leans over...he eyes the envelope.



Cellmate: BOB? WHO IS BOB?

Inside, The Wizard knows what this letter contains. He starts to throw it away.

Cellmate: Don't throw that shit away, man! We ain't got shit to do in here, open it up. Let's see what this bob guy wants.

Clarence Hill: Fine.

The words barely make it through his clenched teeth. The Wizard opens the envelope.

Cellmate: Damn. That's about the cleanest envelope opening I've ever seen. You should join the post office.

The Wizard ignores this hideous suggestion. He slides the letter out and unfolds it.



Cellmate: Join Bob? Join him where? For what? You got some kinda friend waiting for ya on the outside you ain't told me about?

Clarence Hill: It's nothing. Bunch of gibberish. I get one of these every.single.day.

He starts to throw it away, again.

Cellmate: Whoa! Hand that to me if you just gonna throw it away. I got use for it.

Clarence Hill: Whatever.

He hands the letter over to his cellmate. The Wizard lays back down, staring at the bottom of the top bunk, frustrated. The bunk starts to shake and move. Sounds of skin on skin slapping emerges followed by a bit of moaning. The Wizard grabs his pillow and uses it to cover his ears. We fade out.