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!
