Lawyer

A disheveled LAWYER walks into a prison and takes a seat across from his CLIENT, who looks extremely nervous. They pick up phones on the opposite ends of the bulletproof glass which separates them.

LAWYER: Jesus Christ, my head is pounding. How are you though?
CLIENT: I’m awful. What took you so long?
LAWYER: Oh God, I just couldn’t get out of bed this morning. I feel like shit.
CLIENT: Well I’ve been waiting for you, it’s pretty easy to get out of bed when you’re sleeping on a cot across from a guy who could kill you in about a hundred different ways.
LAWYER: Calm down, calm down, Jesus, would you stop shouting? You’re killing me. My head feels like a--fucking--jackhammer is--whatever, do you have any Advil?
CLIENT: Do I have any Advil? What is this, a joke?
LAWYER: Sorry, sorry. So, right. Your bail is set at $1500.
CLIENT: $1500? I don’t have $1500!
LAWYER: OK! OK, Christ, if you’re going to shout, move the receiver away from your mouth. I’m hung over, have a little sympathy, I got completely wasted all night.
CLIENT (bitterly): You have a good night out?
LAWYER: Yeah, we went to like fifteen different bars, met the most amazing girls--(sees CLIENT glaring at him) but that’s not important. What’s important is getting you out of here.
CLIENT: I agree.
LAWYER: OK. So we’re agreed. But here’s what we have to do first. (takes a long pause, rubbing his temples and wincing)
CLIENT: What?
LAWYER (before CLIENT is able to finish): We’re going to--call people you know who might be able to lend you some money and we’ll collect the bail and we’ll get you out of here by tomorrow morning.
CLIENT: You’re going to call these people?
LAWYER: Yes. Yes, I can call them. You just stay here. Right.
CLIENT: Good luck.
LAWYER: Thanks, have a good weekend.
CLIENT: What?
LAWYER: Nothing. Sorry. Nothing.