Synced & corrected by QueenMaddie www.addic7ed.com
This is the story of a very nice boy named Greg...
... and a very strange boy named Randy.
Oh, just orange juice?
You can have one of my Gatorades.
- Thank you. - Don't forget your wallet, bud.
For the past two weeks,
Randy and Greg have been rooming together
on an out-of-town drywall gig.
At first, everything had gone swimmingly...
until Randy started sleepwalking.
He apologized profusely to his new friend Greg
for waking him up and terrifying him in the middle of the night.
I'm sorry, Greg.
Greg, always the nice boy, tried to be patient.
You don't have to keep on apologizing, honestly.
I know it's not your fault.
It's okay.
Wanting to help,
he hoped to figure out a solution.
Maybe there's a way that we can, like, fix it.
Well, I don't see how we can fix it,
because I've been doing it forever,
and we're only on this job for two more weeks,
and then you'll be rid of me for good.
I'm not trying to get rid of you, Randy.
I'm just saying that it's only temporary for you.
Which was true.
While Greg was going back to school in the fall,
Randy would be a drywall guy forever.
Oh, man, I forgot to go and get my meat last night.
I can make you another sandwich.
Thank you, Greg. You're the best.
That's all right. No problem.
Greg always tried to be tolerant of Randy's odd habits,
but sleepwalking, he couldn't ignore.
What if I, like, uh,
I tapped you a little? You know what I mean?
Like, just kinda like when you're in that mode.
Just knock you out of that deep, deep, deep sleep
and into more of a lighter sleep?
They say you're not supposed to wake a sleepwalker.
Yeah, I mean... just kinda spitballing ideas here.
We gotta figure something out, man,
because you keep on waking me up,
and I need to get some sleep.
I know, and Greg, you're...
You're like the last person I want to wake up.
- It's okay, Randy. - You know what?
I really appreciate... you rooming with me,
because I know none of the other guys,
they didn't want to bunk with me.
That's not true.
It was 100% true.
So, thank you.
Thank you for being my friend.
Aw, come on.
I'm serious.
Greg knew in his heart
that he could never truly be friends with Randy.
But since he was a nice boy...
You're welcome.
But even nice boys have their limits.
Now, there are two things you should know about sleepwalkers.
One, you should never wake a sleepwalker.
And two, when one is sleepwalking,
one is not truly oneself,
and therefore capable of doing things
that are, well, unexpected.
Oh, shit!
Grew knew all of these things,
and he wanted to be a nice boy to Randy.
But his patience was wearing thin.
He was not only exhausted from countless sleepless nights...
Randy!
Randy, please!
Go back to bed, okay?
He was conflicted.
His mother had always taught him:
"Be kinder than necessary,
for you never know what someone is going through."
Jesus!
Sage advice, for sure.
Nevertheless, hard advice to follow
after a string of unrestful nights.
So Greg, near the end of his rope,
decided to try something.
Randy.
Randy, wake up.
Aah!
Oh, my God! No, no, no, no, no!
I just can't believe I did that.
I just can't believe it.
Greg, you know, I'm...
I'm so, so sorry. I'm...
- so sorry. - Stop it, Randy.
Please, just stop apologizing.
Alright? I'm the one who tried to wake you up.
Yeah, but I'm the one who punched you in the eye.
My best friend!
It's fine.
Jeez. Well, I just feel awful. I wish there was something I could do.
Well, Randy, if you really want to do something,
you could make our sandwiches for lunch today.
That's not what I mean. I'm not a little kid.
Well, honestly, you're acting like one!
Seeing the look on Randy's face,
Greg walked himself back.
It would be helpful if you made the sandwiches
so we're not late for work today. Okay?
Okay.
Shit!
I forgot to buy the meat again, last night.
Ohh. You know what?
I'll get the next two rounds.
Okay, Greg?
- I just wish... - And in that moment
as Greg listened to Randy prattle on senselessly,
he knew that he couldn't do it anymore.
Not one more night.
I just... I just wish there was something...
He needed to tell Randy
that he could no longer be his roommate.
Hey, can I borrow your deodorant?
He was just too nice to do it.
How about a Tootsie Roll?
Tootsie Roll?
When I was a kid,
my dad would tuck me in every night.
Let's say this is me right here.
This... like... all tight...
- Like a Tootsie Roll. - Like a Tootsie Roll.
Yeah, like a Tootsie Roll.
- I like this idea. - Great.
So your dad tucked you in at night.
Yeah.
That must be why you're so nice.
I'm not that nice.
No. You're the nicest person I've ever met.
- Sandwiches. - Yeah.
Couple more nights like that and I'll be good.
Jesus!
What's up?
What happened?
Greg, you're scaring me.
What... Uh...
Oh, my God.
Ahh.
Aah!
Ohh. Uhh. Ahh.
At least my legs are okay.
Yeah, but everything else...
- No, I'm trying to be positive. - Oh, sorry. Yeah.
Did I get out?
Randy, it would seem so, yes.
I guess that Tootsie Roll wasn't tight enough.
Yeah.
I don't know what happened.
I guess... I don't know,
I coulda... sat up and walked out,
and then while I was out there maybe got attacked
by like a dog or something?
Randy, I don't think a dog did that.
Well, what do you think happened?
I don't know.
The boys searched the room for answers.
Is that your bag?
No.
Oh,
Jesus. Ohh.
- Tight. - Let me just...
Oh, my God.
Ohh!
Whoa.
Ohh.
I think it's a foot.
It was a foot.
Ohh, yeah.
It's so delicate.
I think it's... a female foot.
See the toenail polish?
Ohh! Uhh!
- I'm sorry. - No... I...
Nope. I can't be a part of this.
Well...
- W-What are you doing? - I'm packing.
- Packing? - Yep.
Where are you going?
I don't think this is the time to go anywhere.
- Greg, you can't leave! - Randy.
You gotta believe me! I didn't do it!
I never said that you did.
Yeah, but you're acting like I did.
- You're running away scared! - I just...
- You're scared of me. - I can't deal with this.
We have to deal with it!
- "We"?! - The foot is here, now!
- Hold on. - Yeah, "we"!
I need you!
I- I can't deal with this alone!
This is your mess. I'm just your fucking roommate, okay?
I thought you were my best friend.
Randy, I am not your friggin' best friend!
Alright? I'm the only person who's willing to bunk with you!
And now you're holding a fucking foot,
and you won't let me leave!
Because I need your help.
I'm so sick and tired of helping you.
And now you want me to help you what,
find out whose foot you sawed off yesterday?
Fuck that.
Fuck. That.
I'm gonna put the foot back in the bag.
Greg...
Look, I need you.
There's a foot in a bag
and I don't know what to do.
Please don't leave.
And then Greg heard that voice again...
The one reminding him that he's a nice boy.
And nice boys don't walk away from people in need.
A black Honda Civic drove into
the Fourth and Cross Dairy Queen
last night sometime around 3:00 a. m.,
but otherwise, a pretty quiet night.
Karen, over to you.
Traffic is already loading up
on the Beltway, but that's not a surprise,
due to the single-lane closure on 64...
Anything?
No.
I'm a good person.
You've known me well enough to know...
that I'm a good person, right?
- Randy... - Yes or no.
You can be honest.
Ah, well, I think...
you are not a smart person.
I think you are
unprepared and clueless
to live life as an adult.
Without me, you would be always late
and probably fired,
and that you are...
essentially...
Greg wanted to be a nice boy to Randy,
but what he really wanted to do
was to beat the ever-loving shit out of him.
To beat the incompetence, ignorance, and idiocy
out of his body.
And for the first time in his life,
Greg looked deep within and asked himself,
"Am I truly a nice boy?"
Are you... okay?
What?
Greg...
Yeah?
You're the best friend...
that I've ever had.
I'm serious, I...
I don't know what's gonna happen when we're done with this job,
but I want to pledge myself to you.
I will follow you anywhere.
And... if you don't want that, I'll leave...
But be, like, on call, you know?
You can keep my number,
and then if you ever need anything,
anything at all,
you just call me.
Okay.
I'm serious. Like...
Like any time, any place,
like if someone's fucking with you,
you just let me know and I'll come running
and I'll just fucking kill 'em!
Sorry.
I didn't... mean it like that.
You know what I mean.
Thank you.
Thank you for...
believing in me.
I... I love you...
a lot.
Thank you.
Thank you!
That night, for the first time in years,
Randy slept like a log,
basking in the warm knowledge
that he had finally found his first true friend.
Sleep, however,
did not come so easily for Greg.
He couldn't help but wonder,
what does it really mean to be a nice boy?
Is it to help others, no matter the cost to oneself?
And though he didn't want to believe it,
that maybe there was such a thing
as being too nice.
Synced & corrected by QueenMaddie www.addic7ed.com