INT. COMET PING PONG PIZZERIA - KITCHEN

They come out into the pizzeria's fully staffed kitchen.

The cooks and waitstaff turn toward them, pulling guns from waistbands, or under tables - but they're no match for Kenny and Kyle.

The two take a minute to catch their breath as the acrid scent of gunpowder mixes with that of meatballs and marinara.

INT. COMET PING PONG PIZZERIA - DINING AREA

They're sitting at a table, a pizza - half pepperoni, half cheese - sitting between them, guns on the table.

Other diners enjoy their meals oblivious to the bloodstained pair.

KYLE: Where are we?

Kenny helps himself to a slice of pepperoni, and serves Kyle a slice of cheese.

KENNY: Comet Ping Pong. Best damn pizza in the metro DC area.

KYLE: We need to call the cops!

KENNY: As soon as you shine a light, they disappear. The only way to get them is to kill the source.

KYLE: But - but how?

KENNY: To kill a bully, you have to become the bully.

Kyle watches Kenny a moment.

KYLE: Dude, I've missed you.

KENNY: I've missed you, too. But we've all got our battles to fight.

KYLE: But that's just it. We used to fight them together, didn't we?

Kenny weighs this, then.

KENNY: There's not much time.

KYLE: What?

Kenny leans in over the table.

KENNY: Look closely.

Kyle leans in.

KENNY: KYLE!