At the very last moment before hitting you with a hockey stick, the roller boy who attacked you flies away from the blow to the side and drops his weapon. You were just traveling to New Jersey to fulfill your "mission" when a gang of scumbags who were most likely sent by Azrael tried to stop you, but someone saved you. A couple of guys, one blond and taller, the other dark-haired and shorter.

— Well, well! Get out of here, you brats! — Jay shouts at the fleeing and beaten attackers, after which he victoriously rubs his hands. Silent Bob, his companion, grins and nods, lighting a cigarette.

— Yo, you don't have to thank me... — Jay grins, turning to the one they saved. — ...Or... You can thank me. — He adds with a grin and looks at Bob for a moment, who gives him an approving look.