EPISODE 6, SCENE 41:
Let’s See If You Can Still Juggle Fire

NARRATOR:
Sooo, everyone in the Writers Room turned to Casey. He already fired Rickles once —
now he wants to see what the others really think, without hiding behind him. Kat voted no, not in anger, but because she sees the real power dynamics — how Rickles triggers chaos, even with charm. It gives her a strong moment,  reminding them she’s more than ‘the note-taker’ for this revised roster.]

KAT: 
Yeah, I know he’s funny.
But I’m tired of building momentum… just for him to blow it up and call it improv.

LORENZO:
Okay. Sure. Let’s pretend the auditions went well yesterday.

PHIL:
Sometimes the villain is the only one telling the truth….
I vote yes.

MORGAN:
(barks once)

[Everyone pauses. Even Phil sets down his drink.]

NARRATOR:
Morgan had been silent through the whole debate. Maybe Morgan barked because she liked the chaos.
Or maybe she missed the sound of scribbled legal pads and someone to boss around.
Or maybe because Morgan likes seeing Lorenzo laugh.
Or maybe because Rickles often snuck treats in her direction.

[TWENTY MINUTES LATER]

NARRATOR:
The decision was made: This vote wasn’t to be verbal. Oh, no —
It’s creative. Rickles has to pitch a song idea live in the Writers Room.
If it sucks, he’s out. If it hits, he’s back.

KAT (narrating, facing camera):
Confrontation is not our style as INFJs.
But weirdness with stakes? INFJs show up for that….
You push an INFJ too far — they don’t fight. 
They get weird.
And they make you earn your way back.

[Rickles enters the writer’s room, where Lorenzo explains the ‘voting’ procedure.]

LORENZO: 
This ain’t a vote like it’s ‘Survivor.’
You wanna rejoin the circus? Let’s see if you can still juggle fire, Sonny.
(pause)
Bonus points if we laugh.

RICKLES (smirking):
What are we going to do next, arm wrestle?
You want a haiku or a hug?

[Casey glances at Kat — then at Rickles. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t need to.]

[Lorenzo then drops the real ask. Rickles pales.]

RICKLES (salutes):
Permission to pitch, Commander Kumback.

[FADE OUT]

SCENE 42:
Rhythm In His Hands

[Setting: Rickles returns to the Writer’s Room, after sequestering himself  for two hours. Lorenzo, Kat, and Casey all smile broadly. Phil smirks in the background.] 

RICKLES (looking directly at Lorenzo):
We sit in here day after day, watching you tap-tap-tap with the rhythm of the music. And all of the other goofy things you do in the name of percussion….
So, I wrote this for you, Cheap Whiskey….
I do hope you laugh.

SCENE 43:
***MUSICAL NUMBER: Rhythm In His Hands***

[Kat is tapping her pen on beat. Morgan’s tail is wagging to the rhythm.]

CASEY (softly, after chorus):
Goddammit. That’s actually good.

KAT (whispers to Casey):
‘Rhythm In His Hands’ …. hmmm, that’s sort of a double entendre. 

CASEY:
Musical rhythm and creative timing…. 

KAT (still whispering, closer to Casey’s ear):
Could also imply masturbation, I suppose.

CASEY:
Cheap Whiskey wins again.

KAT (deadpan)
You know… a lot of people might take offense to that song.
It was pretty cute, though.

[Everyone turns to look at Lorenzo. Even Rickles stops smirking. The room holds its breath.]

[Lorenzo wipes tears of laughter from his eyes, stands up slowly… and starts clapping.]

[Not slow, ironic clapping — a genuine, full-hearted ovation.]

LORENZO (choked up, beaming):
Oh HELL yes!
Rickles just finagled his way right back into the circus —
And now he’s juggling fire and stealing writing credits like it’s an Olympic sport.
And the best part? The damn song actually slapped.
Even Morgan tapped her tail in 4/4.

[Morgan barks. Once.]

CASEY:
Honestly, he’s like that guy who crashes your rehearsal, eats your snacks, roasts your childhood trauma… 
Then accidentally writes the best hook of the week.
And now? His name’s back on the board.
That ain’t a rehire. 
That’s a damn redemption arc.

[Rickles salutes.]

Kat’s eyes have gone distant, caught somewhere in the song.

She leans toward Casey, whispering, half to herself.
He leans closer, trying to catch it.

KAT:
Rhythm in His Hands?
Could mean… something else entirely, you know.

CASEY:
Like drumming?

KAT (laughs, low):
Or a man who knows how to use those hands.

Casey blinks. Kat grins, surprised by her own boldness.

KAT (whisper):
Rhythm’s everything, Detective.

CASEY:
I, uh… won’t file an objection.

A quick spark between them—then laughter, breathless and teenaged.
Without another word, Casey stands, offers his hand. Kat takes it.
They slip out the side door, half-giggling, half-stumbling, still whispering.

Rickles is finishing his final flourish, eyes closed, missing it completely.

RICKLES (pleased):
Well? So, am I rehired or what?

LORENZO (shakes head, chuckling):
You were, right up until your rhythm hypnotized the HR department.
Now they’ve got… hands-on training to attend.

Rickles squints, baffled.

RICKLES (looking around):
Uh… where’d Kat go?

LORENZO:
No clue, brother. Guess the rhythm got her.

Lorenzo turns back to his notes, smirking to himself.
Somewhere offstage, faint laughter echoes down the hallway.

LORENZO:
You’re good, brother. Real good.
Next time, maybe open with a ballad.

[FADE OUT]

[UPSTAIRS HALLWAY – LATE NIGHT]

Door clicks open. Casey and Kat re-enter frame, a little breathless, shirts half-tucked, laughter chasing them.

CASEY (grinning):
Not that I’m complaining, but what was that?
You got hotter than a snare under stage lights.

KAT:
(mimics a drum pattern on the wall, light taps of her fingers)
Every slap timed, every flick deliberate.
Middle finger the muter, index the snap, pinky the wildcard, thumb bringing the slap…
(pauses, smiling)
Tell me that doesn’t sound like a woman’s idea of perfect coordination.

Casey laughs, still a little dazed.

CASEY:
Remind me never to underestimate percussion again.

They share one last conspiratorial grin before heading back downstairs, straightening clothes, trying to look innocent.

LORENZO (taking a sip of coffee):
You two rehearse everything that hard?

Kat calls back without missing a beat.

KAT:
Every. Slap. Counts.

LORENZO (grinning):
Noted.

SCENE 44:
Jesus, Take The Phone

[Setting: Coffee cups, guitar stands, lyric sheets — standard chaos. Kat is typing on her tablet. Lorenzo and Casey are sitting across from each other, both nervously eyeing the phone between them.]

LORENZO (half-laughing):
I can’t believe this. Classic Rock Magazine wants an interview with us.
You realize what this means?

CASEY (staring at phone like it might explode):
Yeah. It means I have to pretend I’m not socially allergic to strangers asking me questions.

KAT (cheerfully):
Oh, come on. It’s just a phone interview.
What’s the worst that could happen?

CASEY (raising hand):
I blank out….
And Lorenzo overcompensates with a four-minute metaphor about INFJs and vintage pencils.
And we end up sounding like we record music under a quilt in a basement.

KAT:
Fair. But you’re also about to chart a single -- and a lot more.

CASEY:
Yeah, and now the magazine that once covered Bowie and Iggy Pop wants a quote from… us.
Jesus take the phone.

KAT (narrating into camera):
In the end, they said yes to a magazine.
Not because they craved fame — but because it made the dream feel real.
But sometimes dreams are built too strange for soundbites. 
So they gave their hearts to a reporter who had 6 minutes and zero context --
and still managed to spell Lorenzo wrong.
Lorenzo even dressed up for the phone interview — button-down shirt, cologne, lucky rings. Casey got a little emotional watching it all.

SCENE 45:
I Shaved For That

[The phone rings. They both freeze. Kat answers.]

KAT (into phone):
Yes, this is them.
Hang on, I’ll patch you in.

INTERVIEWER (on speaker, fast-talking):
Hey guys! Just a super quick one — space got trimmed.
We’ll run a blurb online, maybe something in print.
Ready?

LORENZO  & CASEY (simultaneously):
Sure. / Not really.

INTERVIEWER (Voice-Over):
Cool! First: What’s the secret behind your writing chemistry?

LORENZO (long pause, then serious):
We’re INFJs who found each other.

INTERVIEWER (V.O.):
Huh. Okay. Cool.
Second: What’s next for Cheap Whiskey?

LORENZO:
Oh, I dunno. Maybe a dog musical.

INTERVIEWER (V.O.):
And Casey, confirming your last name is … Bright?
Is that because you’re known as the optimist of the group?

[Everyone stares at each other. Lorenzo blinks twice. Then Lorenzo has to answer for Casey, who feins blacking out … “Yes!”]

INTERVIEWER (V.O.):
Awesome. Gotta run. Thanks, guys!

[The line goes dead.]

KAT: 
...Was that the interview?”

LORENZO (deadpan): 
I shaved for that.

KAT:
Did we just get ghosted by a magazine in real time?

LORENZO: 
We’re putting that on the album liner notes.

CASEY:
My palms are still sweating.
And I didn’t even speak.

[FADE OUT]

SCENE 46:
Wait, They Ran The Lyrics?

[Setting: Later that same evening, Kat scans her phone. She is surprised to see Cheap Whiskey mentioned so soon online.]

KAT (looking at her tablet):
Oh, hey! Good news — Classic Rock is running the full lyrics to Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey on their website…. and there’s also a blurb online.

[Kat reads aloud:]
“Cheap Whiskey is the brainchild of Lorenzo Champion, a West Michigan karaoke regular turned rock-musical dreamer. With a ragtag team of scribes and weirdos, he’s making noise — some of it catchy. Stay tuned.”

[Group silence]

KAT: 
…‘Some of it catchy’?

[Cut to Lorenzo, sipping decaf, reading from his laptop]

LORENZO (begins laughing):
Who the hell is Leonard Champagne?

KAT:
They got your name wrong in the email, too, Leonard.

LORENZO (cracking up):
That’s branding, baby!

CASEY (confused):
Wait, what? They ran the lyrics?

KAT (fronting her screen):
Yep. Blurb says: “Crude, clever, oddly touching — like if Aerosmith and Rupi Kaur had a bastard child in a karaoke bar.”

LORENZO (stunned silence):
We got compared to… Aerosmith and Rupi Kaur?

CASEY (sincerely):
That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.

[FADE OUT: with Kat giggling, Lorenzo pacing, and Casey silently mouthing the Rupi Kaur quote like a blessing.]

SCENE 47:
Good News / Bad News Meeting

[Setting: Marvin deBos’ office, late afternoon. Clem is practically wagging his tail, as he enters.]

CLEM:
Chief, you’re gonna love this: 
Word is that Cheap Whiskey can mimic nearly any frontman, alive or dead.

deBOS:
You kidding me?
That’s brand synergy!
[pause]
I’m brainstorming!
We launch “Sing Like the Legends” night — every show a different era!

CLEM:
He can channel rock legends at will.
Like karaoke possession.

deBOS:
We’ll trademark it—
“Cheap Whiskey: In the Style Of.”
Merch, docuseries, Vegas residency.
Clem, tell him we’ll open with the tambourine number—

CLEM:
About that—uh—he can’t, uh, sing and play at once.

deBOS:
Come again?

CLEM:
Tambourine, drums, cowbell—you name it. He freezes up.
Tried it once, looked like he was fighting off bees.

deBOS:
(pulls out earbuds)
You’re saying my karaoke chameleon’s got split-brain rhythm disorder?

CLEM (laughing):
No disorder. Just one track at a time.

deBOS:
Unbelievable. Elvis played guitar. Phil Collins drummed.
Cheap Whiskey juggles… air.

CLEM:
It’s—physically—painful to watch.

deBOS (turns crimson):
Jesus Christ, Cheap Whiskey!
What kind of entertainer can’t sing and shake?
I thought he was #7 in the damn Tambourine Nationals!
So he’s basically a mime with rhythm.
Next, you’ll tell me he lip-syncs his faith.

CLEM (quiet):
He… definitely doesn’t lip-sync that, Chief.

deBOS:
Wonderful. A prophet who can’t multitask.

[deBos storms out.]

[Cut to: Clem outside office, texting Casey:]
Good news travels fast.
Bad news travels faster. 
Hide the tambourine.

[FADE OUT]

SCENE 48:
Karaoke Mimicry

[Setting: Marv deBos’ office. Clem has just delivered the bad-news half of the “karaoke mimicry” report. deBos dials Lorenzo’s cell phone.]

deBOS:
Jesus Christ, Cheap Whiskey!
What kind of entertainer can’t sing and play percussion?
I thought you were #7 in the damn Tambourine Nationals!

LORENZO (trying to stay calm):
Hold up.
Those contests were specifically designed to NOT be a singing contest of any kind.
Technically, the Tambourine Nationals are anti-singing.
No vocals. Whole point was rhythm, not melody.
So I’m not broken -- I’m obedient.

deBOS:
Well, you’re definitely unmarketable.
You’re telling me you can’t sing and tap a damn drum?
You’re a musician, Cheap Whiskey!

LORENZO:
I’m a storyteller who sometimes keeps time.
And it’s not that I can’t play percussions while I’m singing --
It’s just that the singing suffers a little.

deBOS:
Oh, that’s comforting.
So what else do you need — a miracle?

LORENZO (lowers voice):
A monitor.
With all the lyrics.
Non-negotiable.
If our president can use a teleprompter, so can I, right?

[deBos stares; Clems stifles laughter.]

deBOS:
Perfect. A tambourine champ who reads his own lyrics.
What’s next, Cheap Whiskey -- training wheels on the mic stand?

LORENZO:
If it keeps me upright, yeah.

[Clem slips out whispering:]
I’m adding “monitor budget” to the tour spreadsheet.

SCENE 49: 
Umm, You Might Wanna Sit Down

[Setting: Lorenzo is still in robe & rings in the Writers Room, Casey is on his second cup of coffee, Kat is barely awake.]

NARRATOR: 
Clem Farmer showed up in person — unannounced — with bagels and bad posture. Clem is awkwardly centered, trying to play it cool. He’s reading from a crumpled post-it note -- while pretending he didn’t just weep in his car.

CLEM (trembling while holding a Red Bull):
To Cheap Whiskey:
To Casey Bright:
To every weird-ass ring on your fingers and lyric in your notebooks...
You did it! 
Billboard freakin’ Top 100!

LORENZO (softly):
What number?

CLEM: (long pause):
Billboard!! Like, the real one.
Not ReverbNation or someone’s blog.”

CLEM:
Ninety-seven…
You’re now more famous than the guy from Smash Mouth.

[Lorenzo chokes on his decaf. Kat screams. Morgan barks.]

CASEY:
Repeat that.
Slowly.
For the angels.

CLEM:
“Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey’ is #97. Billboard. Official….
I already printed it out for my mom.

[Theme music of  “Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey” kicks in for first time in the first 7 episodes.]

[FADE OUT: Morgan howls like it’s a full moon.]

[END OF EPISODE 6]