Here's the result of a writing exercise from tonight's writer's workshop. It gives hints of things and characters to come in the sequel. If you've read The Catch, see if you can figure out who's doing the talking.
Listen, Haze; you've always played coy, but I know you've got it. I know you do. You're not just small-time. I know Jimmy got it from you back in the day.
See, I knew it! I can tell just from that look on your face. It's true, isn't it - what they say about you? All those trips back and forth between here and Brighton Beach. Your'e the supplier, aren't you? The middlewoman, the mule, whatever the fuck they call it.
Fine. Okay, fine! You don't have to say anything at all. I know you can't say anythign right here, with all these people around us. Just think about Nikita. What you could do for him with the money.
You don't have to get back into it again. It's just me. Just business between friends. We're friends, remember? Since high school - at least what little of it we finished.
Here - let me buy you another one of those. What is that, anyway? It smells like cock. Really? I would have thought vodka. Or a Moscow Mule - ha ha ha!
(Yo - another Manhattan, please.)
Are you cold? Here, let me give you my jacket. They should really close the door, shouldn't they? The Sunset in July... What did Mark Twain say? Coldest winter I ever experienced? Whatever - that's why I didn't graduate.
Listen, Haze. I know you got out of it when Nikita was born. I know you've got the tattoo studio now. It's only for me - my own personal supply.
What? Oh, is that what this is all about? Listen, Haze; Jimmy never had any self-restraint. Do you remember that time he was tweaking so bad he pulled a chunk of hair out of Will's head? Poor kid. But you never saw me like that, did you?
Besides, that's not what I'm after. That was never my thing. I need something to slow me down, not some home-made Ritalin like Jimmy was always after. And you always had the straight-up best smack in the whole fucking city, Haze.
See, that was your mistake - that's how we figured it out. Where do they get it from, anyway? Afghanistan? Cambodia?
Oh, sorry - I forgot. But hey, no one is listening; and even if they are, they're just a bunch of drunk Micks. They don't know shit about what I'm talking about.
Just one time, Haze. Just enough for me., to tide me over til the next time you fly out there.
Nikita, Haze. Think about Nikita. With this, you could pay for a whole semester for him. Nobody would ever know.