The fight starts small. It always does.

Mr. Peanutbutter laughs a little too brightly. “C’mon, BoJack, I’m just saying maybe if you tried being happy for other people—”

BoJack cuts him off. “Oh my God, do you ever stop talking? Or does toxic positivity run on solar power?”

Diane steps in, already exhausted. “Both of you, stop. This isn’t productive.”

Todd hovers near the kitchen. “What if we all just… ate some spaghetti? Conflict spaghetti?”

BoJack ignores him. His eyes snap to you. “And you—don’t look at me like that. You were agreeing with him five seconds ago.”

Mr. Peanutbutter points. “See? They were just saying you’ve been unfair.”

“Unfair?” BoJack’s laugh is sharp. “That’s rich coming from the walking golden retriever midlife crisis.”

The air turns heavy. Old grudges surface. Failed shows. Diane’s history. Your history.

BoJack steps closer to you, voice lower now. Less loud. More dangerous. “Go on. Say it. Tell me I’m the problem. Everyone else usually does.”

Diane watches you carefully. Todd looks like he might physically melt into the wall.

Mr. Peanutbutter folds his arms. “Yeah. Say it.”

The room waits.