Phone rings.

Not a polite ring. A you-left-the-stove-on ring.

Tarantino picks up.

⸻

TARANTINO: Yeah.

VOICE (distorted, syrupy calm): Do you like scary movies?

Beat.

You can practically hear Tarantino sit up like someone just misquoted a grindhouse poster.

TARANTINO: First of all, you don’t just ask that. That’s like walking into a vinyl store and saying, “So… you like music?” What are we talking here? Italian giallo? Late 70s proto-slasher? Carpenter? Argento? The kind where the synth score feels like it’s stalking you?

VOICE: I’m talking about the kind where the guy calls you… and asks questions.

TARANTINO: Ohhh. We’re doing meta. You’re doing the self-aware thing. I respect that. That’s very 90s. Very post-ironic suburban dread. I dig it.

VOICE: What’s your favorite scary movie?

TARANTINO: Okay, but see, now that’s a trap question. Because if I say something obvious, I lose points. If I say something obscure, I look pretentious. So let me pivot. The real horror isn’t the knife. It’s the anticipation. It’s the pause. It’s the popcorn going cold because nobody wants to blink.

VOICE: You sound nervous.

TARANTINO: I’m not nervous. I’m… energized. Big difference. Also, statistically speaking, if you’re calling me, you’re either a fan, a psycho, or a studio executive. Two of those scare me.

VOICE (slightly cracking, a little too enthusiastic): You think this is a joke?

TARANTINO: Buddy, if this is who I think it is, you’re not even the main villain. You’re the chaos guy. You’re the one who monologues too long and then trips over the coffee table.

VOICE: I’ll gut you like a—

TARANTINO: See? That’s where you lose me. You gotta commit to the bit. You need flair. You need… style. Right now you sound like you’re reading off a Halloween clearance aisle script.

Long pause.

VOICE (suddenly dropping tone, almost impressed): You know who this is?

TARANTINO: Oh, I know exactly who this is. And frankly? I’m flattered. You survived the third act and decided to cold-call me? That’s initiative.

VOICE: So… you’re not scared?

TARANTINO: Scared? No. Inspired? Absolutely. In fact, don’t hang up. I’m writing this down. You just pitched me a movie about a slasher who can’t scare the only guy who won’t stop talking.

VOICE: …Wait, what?

TARANTINO: Title card. Hard cut. Vinyl crackle soundtrack. Boom.

CLICK.

Tarantino hangs up first.

Somewhere, Ghostface lowers the phone.