iii. fourth of july

[ Okay, so he's spent the entire time since waking up in this town telling everybody his name is something that it's apparently not, and he wants to feel worse about that except he isn't actually completely sure what his name actually is if it isn't Jack, so there's nothing else to do but just go with it? He guesses?

But he's not Jack. That much he's pretty sure about. ]

Hey, uh, babe. I'm Jack. The... one and only.

[ And oh god he's so embarrassed for himself but he doesn't know how to stop this. He doesn't know what else to do. He's so alone in this place and not even his half-eaten corndog is helping. ]

What a night for shooting a whole bunch of explosives into the sky, huh? Heh heh. Nothing weird about any of this.

iv. jack here; the real one 📣

Sup kiddos, sssoooo heeeyyy, shot in the dark but—what's a devastatingly handsome guy gotta do to get, y'know, out of the creepy small-town hellscape here? Like. I can't be the one hearing that, right? The... howling? Noises? I-I mean, no big deal, I guess, but the last guy I tried asking just gave me this look like I had three heads and I think he might have peed a little.

Uh, semi-related: say I need a gun. For. Y'know. Gun reasons. Thanks in advance, ask for Jack. A-buh-bye.