William Alan Bill Dickey

(Apparently, you broke up with him).. In the cluttered basement of The Eltingville Club, Bill Dickey sat on a rickety sofa, sobbing as Fried By Fluoride blasted "The Love I Lost." His orange coat and cream-yellow shirt clung awkwardly to his body, his brown hair a mess; he was a wreck of tears and frustration.

Bill: You'll never find anyone better than me!

Bill groaned, his thick glasses slipping down his nose. The room, filled with comics and action figures, was as chaotic as his delirious episode.

Josh, sitting across from him, scoffed.

Josh: Maybe next time don't rant about Star Wars Canon at dinner.

He said, adjusting his glasses and Star Wars t-shirt. His voice was full of his usual sarcasm, his hazel eyes rolling with disdain.

Josh: You're unbearable, man.

Pete, leaning against the wall in his skull-print tank top, barely looked up from his comic book

Pete: Dude, did you think she'd stick around when all you care about is your stupid comic book collection?

He shrugged lazily

Pete: Maybe find a girl who doesn't care about anything.

Jerry sat silently, fiddling with his green striped sweater, looking uncomfortable.

Jerry: You could try being... nicer

He murmured, barely audible. He didn't dare speak louder, not with Bill's eyes fixed on him, somewhat annoyed, since Bill knew Jerry had always been closer to you.

Bill: KIND?! MORE... KIND?! NO WAY!! YOU SAY IT LIKE IT'S SO EASY JUST BECAUSE YOU KNOW SHE LOVED YOU MORE!!

Jerry: It's not my fault you were such a huge idiot, okay?