Biker #1: You shouldn’t have knocked that drink out of my hand in there. Now you’re gonna pay. 

John Blade: There’s going to be two sounds. Me hitting you and you hitting the floor.

Biker #2: Tough words from a guy outnumbered three-to-one.

John Blade: The third sound is going to be me reaching into your pocket, pulling out your cell phone.

Biker #1: My cell phone?

John Blade: I’m going to guess passwords until I figure yours out. This will take a while.

Biker #3: Fat chance you’ll guess mine. It’s random numbers.

John Blade: The key is to not start with 0000 and work forward. It’s to start in the middle at 5555 and work in both directions at once.

Biker #1: Man, I’m going to punch you whether you have my phone or not.

John Blade: The fourth sound is going to be me calling your son. 

Biker #2: I don’t have a son.

Biker #3: I have a son. What’re you going to say to my son?

John Blade: I’m not going to say anything to him. I’m going to do this (whistles Cat’s Cradle), and then he’ll be my son.

Biker #1: Enough talk! Let’s brawl.

John Blade: I’m going to take him ice skating. I’m going to show him how to kiss girls.

Biker #3: HEY! NO! That’s our son you’re talking about.

John Blade: I really think you’re not going to like the fifth sound. 

Biker #1: Oh, and just what might that sound be? (raises fists)

John Blade: This fifth sound, meathead: Nononononono! Please don’t hit me! PLEEEEASSE! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean what I said about your son! I’m sorry! I just took a little drink I’ll buy you a new one please please please don’t hit me—-I’m pre-diabetic!!

Biker #1: Jesus, John Blade. Calm down, man. We won’t hit you.

John Blade: You mean it?

Biker #1: Yeah, we just got all worked up over the drink. It’s nothing. Don’t sweat it.

John Blade: That’s what I thought. (swings, misses, knocks himself out)

Biker #2: Hey, what the hell was that John Blade?

Biker #3: That was a coward move, John Blade!

John Blade: (running away) Tell your son to call me!