Slater flashes the lights on the Buick.
“This is it,” says Bowfinger. “Roll it.”
“Mark!” yells Dave, slating the picture.
“And… action!” says Bowfinger.
Kit and Freddy pull up in their Mercedes. Slater is behind them in the Buick.
“Man, Freddy, that time away really helped calm my ass, you know?” says Kit. “Thought I was startin’ to crack up there for a while. You ever think, there are no conspiracies? That maybe there’s no aliens,
nothing like that? Everything’s just as it seems. Being alone, by myself, in a chamber…”
Suddenly, one of the Chubby Rain aliens pops up from behind a bush and puts a chloroformed rag over Freddy’s face. Freddy disappears behind the bush.
“That was really helpful to me,” says Kit. “So helpful… Freddy? Where the hell Freddy? Hey, Freddy!”
Kit looks around, worried.
“Hey, you!” yells Slater, dressed in his costume. “Kincaid!”
“Freddy!” yells Kit, still wondering what happened to his driver.
“You heard me, Kincaid!” says Slater.
“Freddy, don’t play with me, man!” yells Kit.
“Nice try, Kincaid,” continues Slater. “Don’t – “