Guard: Clarence Hill!

A very sore, very beaten WIZARD sits up after hearing his name. The top of his head slams against the bottom of the bunk hanging above. He curses and punches the mattress indicating this isn’t the first time that’s happened. With one eye bruised and the other swollen shut, he addresses the guard.

Clarence Hill: Wat.

Guard: Come with me. It appears you’ve been given your release. Gather your things.

The Wizard looks around. He has no things. So he exits the cell. Before leaving, his cellmate rolls over, extending a crumpled, sticky letter from BOB.

Cellmate: Yo. This is yours.

The Wizard grimaces.

Clarence Hill: You can keep that.

Cellmate: Thanks, man.

The cellmate is genuinely touched which leads to more touching. The Wizard is led across various cells, most of which contain prisoners hurling insults, which he ignores. Sporting a considerable limp, The Wizard follows the guard out of the containment area and into an area for release. He goes through the process.

Outside the local maximum-security prison

Warrick Hill enjoys a menthol loaded cigarette outside the prison gates awaiting the release of his younger, stranger brother - Clarence. Or, ya know, THE WIZARD. The gates open and Clarence emerges...Warrick holds his breath. He sighs with relief. Clarence is wearing normal, human attire. Trashing the cigarette, Warrick motions for Clarence to get in. He does. They drive off. Inside the car, the aura is tense.

Warrick Hill: You look like shit.

Clarence Hill: For some strange reason the inmates started beating me up on a regular basis right after your visit.

Warrick chuckles. More silence follows.

Warrick Hill: That’s okay. I know your dumb ass is grateful.

The Wizard tries moving his seat back to provide more legroom.

Warrick Hill: Careful!

Warrick points toward the back. The Wizard spots JOHN E DEPTH. He’s seated up but slouched. Shades cover his eyes. It’s unclear whether he’s alive or dead.

Clarence Hill: Is he okay?

Warrick Hill: He’ll be fine. Still a little raw over losing his job to Puffer last Sunday.

The Wizard nods. He knows the feeling. Warrick takes an unexpected turn.

Clarence Hill: The town is that way…

Warrick Hill: We’re not heading back to town.

Clarence Hill: Well...where are we going, then?

Warrick Hill: To start part of your probation.

Clarence Hill: Probation?!

The Wizard’s cadence indicates he believes to have been handed a tough break.

Warrick Hill: I told you I’d get you out. I didn’t say it would be scot-fucking-free. Your ‘crime’ was pretty fucking viral, bro. You gotta atone somewhat.

The Wizard really hates his life.

Clarence Hill: Can’t I get some rest first? A shower? A decent meal?

Warrick Hill: After.

Clarence Hill: Come on…

Warrick Hill: Look, it’s not gonna be that bad. I got you one of the easier gigs.

Clarence Hill: What is it?

Warrick Hill: You’re going to be mentoring ten kids who are labeled ‘at risk’.

This confuses The Wizard. He doesn’t know how he qualifies for such a gig.

Clarence Hill: I think you’ve got the wrong guy.

Warrick Hill: Nope.

Warrick pulls into the parking lot of a facility for at-risk youth. He steps out, followed by The Wizard. The Wizard leans forward, staring through the back window at Depth, who remains motionless.

Clarence Hill: Should we just leave him out here?

Warrick Hill: It’s November. He’ll be fine.

Warrick leads the way toward the front door. Upon entering, they are greeted by a receptionist who points them down a hallway, giving them the appropriate door. They pause for a second, The Wizard stopping Warrick before entering.

Clarence Hill: What are these kids at risk from, anyway?

Warrick Hill: Getting their ass kicked.

Warrick opens the door and shoves his brother inside, shutting the door behind him. The Wizard takes a gander at what awaits him…