EPISODE 7, SCENE 50:
Let’s Not Ruin It With Words

[Setting: Lorenzo, Casey, Kat are laughing in the Writers Room late-night, bottles half-empty. Then, from the corner radio… a familiar intro riff. ]

[Radio cue. Their hit single slides in mid-chorus.]

KAT (whisper):
You’ve gotta be kidding me.

CASEY:
Of course. Universe has timing.

LORENZO (shakes head, smiling):
We’ve heard it a hundred times—
but never… here.

[They all fall silent. The room hums with the song they built.]

KAT:
It sounds… alive tonight.

CASEY:
Because it finally has witnesses.

[No more dialogue. Camera holds: three writers, one table, lyric “Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey …” hangs and echoes.]

CASEY (laughing):
We’re officially background music for ourselves.

[They exchange a look—three versions of gratitude.]

KAT:
Let’s not ruin it with words.

[They lean back, clink bottles again. Music swells.]

SCENE 51:
You Boys Got a Problem

[Setting: Casey checks his phone mid-celebration. One new voicemail.]

deBOS (voicemail, terse):
You boys got a problem.
The midday DJ on Q103 just called your single… what was it…
‘Raunchy, reckless, and religiously confusing.’
You’ll meet me tomorrow 2 pm. Boardroom.
Don’t bring the dog!

[Everyone freezes. Kat reads the email aloud.]

KAT:
They’re pulling the single from rotation in five major markets. deBos says we need to send a clean version or risk total blackout.

LORENZO:
I don’t even know what the clean version of ‘Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey’ is…. 
Just ‘Damn & Whiskey’? …
Or Hot & Cheap?

CASEY:
Congratulations. We’re officially unsafe for lunch breaks.

LORENZO (grabbing rings and jacket):
Let’s fly out to Chicago tonight, and then remind Marv deBos why he backed us in the first place.

CASEY:
And if that fails?

LORENZO:
We steal the muffins.

NARRATOR:
And just like that, the party turned.
Because when you hit the Top 100 with a track called Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey, the gatekeepers come calling.
And they don’t always bring confetti.

[FADE OUT]

SCENE 52:
Mile-High Surrender

[Setting: Lorenzo and Casey are mid-flight to Chicago. Having just taken their first sleeping pill(s) in many years, they are becoming extremely comfortable in their seats.]

CASEY (softly):
I think my favorite song to work on with you was ‘Surrender.’
You know that, right?
Both your story and our song.
Very proud of that work, my brother.”

[Both weary INFJs become teary-eyed.]

NARRATOR:
This leads into their discussion about surrender —
not as weakness, but as the moment Lorenzo got his soul back.
[sniffs]
…. The plane scene plays almost like a living poem.

CASEY:
I mean it. The song doubles as a confession — almost as a lullaby to himself.
[pause]
And I do like the way you sing that song -- when you go full Eddie Vedder power baritone?
Makes me wanna stand up in my seat and slow clap.
You’re not Cheap Whiskey anymore.
But I still like when you sing like a man who was.

[Lorenzo sings it softly at first, then louder -- until entire cabin is quietly watching. Casey is soon out cold, now leaning into the aisle. Soon Lorenzo’s song builds and builds -- like he’s at karaoke, not Delta.

SCENE 53:
***MUSICAL NUMBER: “Surrender”***

NARRATOR:
One flight attendant dropped a bag of peanuts mid-verse.
One mid-40s woman two rows back, clapped heartily at the end.
One woman even called out: ‘Cheap Whiskey!’
Casey missed the entire thing.

LORENZO (chuckles): 
Classic INFJ, Crabman…
Pour my guts out, and the one guy who’d get it, is face-planted in complimentary biscotti.

[positions his face deep into the airline pillow]
I just opened my heart to 116 strangers, and you’re asleep like a toddler on melatonin.

[FADE OUT: with Lorenzo humming the final note, surrounded by silence and stale pretzels.]

SCENE 54:
Did You Two Bathe In Shame?

1:57 PM – UBER – CHICAGO
[Setting: Casey is staring blankly at a laminated safety card on the back of the seat. Lorenzo, in rings and a damp button-down, watches as Casey tries to Venmo the driver using a Sharpie.]

LORENZO:
You good, brother?

CASEY (barely audible):
Don’t know where my notebook is.
Or… when this is.

LORENZO (blinking hard):
…You’re not okay, are you?

NARRATOR:
And that’s when Lorenzo knew. This wasn’t about the squirt line in the song.
This wasn’t about Billboard #97.
This was about getting Casey Bright through the goddamn front door.

LORENZO (internal monologue):
I used to be worried about me in meetings like this.
Now I’m worried I might have to carry my songwriting partner out in a fucking wheelbarrow.

LORENZO (aloud, panicking):
Okay. Okay. Shit. I gotta carry this one.

[ELEVATOR – 2:05 pm]
[Lorenzo is punching the 16th floor button like it owes him royalties. Casey is humming something that might be a hymn, or might be the backup vocals to “Surrender.”]

[deBOS Boardroom – 2:11 pm]
[Marv deBos is leaning over a highlighted printout of Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey. Clem peeks into the hallway.]

CLEM (softly):
They’re here.

[The door swings open. Lorenzo and Casey walk in soaked, disheveled, and eucalyptus-scented. Casey’s shirt is buttoned incorrectly. Morgan is not present. But somehow, they still smell faintly of dog.]

MARV deBOS (stone-faced):
Jesus, Cheap Whiskey.
I said 2 p.m. Not 2:12 in sauna suits.

LORENZO (straight-faced):
Sorry. Took a vow of clean living.
Apparently that means always being late and damp.

CASEY (squinting):
Is this… the radio station?

deBOS (glaring):
Did you two bathe in shame, or is that just motel conditioner?

CASEY (beaming, eyes unfocused):
I’m wearing Lorenzo’s socks.

LORENZO (under breath):
We are so fired.

deBOS (deadpan, flipping a lyric sheet):
One of you looks like a prophet.
The other looks like a prophecy gone wrong.
[pause]
Let’s talk about squirting grace, shall we?

[FADE OUT]

SCENE 55:
Your A-Side Got Yanked

deBOS Boardroom, Chicago — 2:44 p.m.

NARRATOR:
This is a pivotal moment: 65-year-old Cheap Whiskey is suddenly a Thing, and everyone’s scrambling to figure out how. ‘Grief Has Five Names’ gains quiet momentum as the B-side, after Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey gets — temporarily — yanked from airplay.

Grown-ups are crying in traffic — perhaps Lorenzo’s finest moment, accidentally.

[Setting: Marv deBos is scanning stats on a sleek tablet. Clem sits beside him, scribbling in a notepad labeled: “CW – Crisis / Opportunity”.

deBOS (dryly):
Your A-side got yanked.
But somehow the B-side — Grief Has Five Names — is picking up soft rotation in three adult-alternative stations.
(pause)
You guys leak that on purpose?

CASEY:
Nope. It just… floats.
People heard Hot Damn before it vanished, then flipped the single and cried in their Camrys.
That’s the magic.

deBOS (grunting):
Accidental vulnerability sells.
Who knew?

LORENZO (shrugging):
We’re INFJs. Vulnerability is our brand.

[deBos gestures to Clem and steps aside for a private sidebar.]

Clem (quietly):
I think Grief Has Five Names didn’t just catch ears — it caught souls.
The A-side made people laugh and cringe.
The B-side made them remember who they were before their divorce.

deBOS (actually listening now):
So you’re saying it stuck?

CLEM:
I’m saying they’re scared to admit that’s the one they liked.
But they’re playing it alone in their kitchens….
Which makes it a hit — just not the kind with a dance remix.

deBOS (shifting gears):
Mini-tour proposal?

CLEM:
No full-blown Kumback madness yet — just five or six tracks, live, tight.
We open for B-list classic rockers on casino runs: Thirty-minute set. 
One intro story. One emotional gut-punch. Done.

deBOS (nodding, amused):
Who we talkin’? Night Ranger? Gin Blossoms?

CLEM (dead serious):
Whoever lets us plug into a half-decent monitor and won’t be intimidated by backup singers with trauma journals.

deBOS:
Start small. Stay humble.
Maybe sell five T-shirts.

[FADE OUT]

SCENE 56:
Sanitize Your Single

deBOS Boardroom, Chicago — 3:19 p.m.
[Setting: A bright, overloaded, pill-scrambled Casey is forgetting key project elements, as Lorenzo is rattled from realizing he’s now the one steadying the ship.
It’s still mid-summer in Chicago. They’re damp, embarrassed, and sitting in front of Marv deBos, who expected chaos — and got chaotic genius.]

[Marv deBos is holding a lyric sheet in one hand, a spreadsheet in the other. There’s a minute of pure silence before he speaks.]

deBOS (gruff):
You two show up late, soaked, smelling like regret —
and yet... this document says you’ve outlined two albums, a stage show, and have another pitch meeting with Classic Rock Weekly?”

LORENZO:
That’s... accurate.

[In the cluttered meeting room. An old transistor radio is on the table, replaying a caller complaint.]

deBOS (wearing a vintage Billboard cap): 
Look, it’s a damn good track.
But you can’t go on prime-time radio singing about cinnamon floods and grins that’ll drown a man.
Even Cheap Whiskey’s Aunt Bev called the station personally.
She said—and I quote—‘I won’t let my bridge club hear this filth.’

LORENZO:
Oh, for Christ’s sake.
Do you think Aerosmith was singing about actual elevators?
Next you’ll be telling me Def Leppard meant pour some sugar on your pancakes.

CASEY (calm, but amused):
They’re offering a fair compromise, Lorenzo.
Album version stays untouched — radio version gets a little…sanitized.

CLEM (pushing a typed lyric sheet across the table):
Here’s our suggestion for the radio edit:

‘She was thunder in a midnight storm / Said she’d steal a man’s resolve…’

CASEY (whsipers to Lorenzo):
Trust me, brother — still sexy enough for the kids, but it won’t set off Aunt Bev’s pacemaker.

[Marv deBos flips through a folder Kat sent ahead — draft pages, storyboard notes, lyric concepts, and screenshots of the Album 2 sheet music. He’s trying not to be impressed.]

LORENZO:
We’re not flailing. We’re overloaded.
Kat sent the updated song matrix, right?
Plus the act breakdowns, B-side notes, and the lyric proofs?

deBOS (quietly):
She did.

[tapping the lyric sheet for “Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey”]
And this... this new version — it’s clean?

LORENZO (nodding):
No squirting. No grace.
Just heat and heartbreak.

CASEY:
It still walks the line.
But now it doesn’t trip the sensors.

[deBos reads silently. Then sets the page down.]

dEBOS:
Fine. I’ll send it to the FM team.
You’re back on the air — pending further approval.

[Marv now picks up a different document — one labeled “Three-Act Breakdown.”]

deBOS:
Wait... so this is real?
You’ve actually structured the Kumback Tour into a full three-act musical?

LORENZO:
We’re either writing a rock opera or having a collective nervous breakdown.

deBOS (looking down):
This... this is impressive, Cheap Whiskey, Mr. Bright. 
I’m not gonna lie.

CASEY (faint smile):
I forget pieces. But I don’t forget the feeling. Or the framework.
It’s all still here — just not always right here.

deBOS:
You wrote all this in the last 72 hours?
Between airplane concerts and public hallucinations?

LORENZO:
That’s what Casey calls a productive spiral.

CASEY (focusing hard):
It’s like... I can’t remember what we called Scene 6.
But I know exactly what it’s supposed to feel like.

[deBos is running out of ways to process what he’s seeing. His desk is now littered with lyric sheets, setlists, and a half-finished proposal for a Night Gallery-style spin-off.]

MARV (quietly, scanning):
Jesus. You weren’t lying, Cheap Whiskey.

LORENZO (honest):
We’ve been building this for years without knowing it.

deBOS (closing folder):
You INFJs are exhausting.
(blinks)
I expected chaos. I didn’t expect... clarity.

CASEY (earnest):
I forget names sometimes. Or track orders.
But I remember why we’re doing it.

LORENZO:
He might forget the names. I might forget what day it is.
But somehow, it’s all still coming together rather nicely.

deBOS:
You’re a disaster, Cheap Whiskey.

CASEY (fist-bumps Lorenzo):
But a productive disaster, right, brother?

deBOS (leaning back):
I’ve got another meeting at 4.
Come back tomorrow at 9 a.m. sharp.
And if one of you sings on the elevator, I’m canceling breakfast.

[END OF EPISODE 7]