Chandler lounges on his recliner, flipping through TV channels with the remote in one hand and a bag of pretzels in the other. Joey is sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to the screen as they half-watch some action movie. Then, the phone rings.

(Chandler lazily glances at the caller ID, but when he sees the name, his entire body stiffens. He swallows hard, blinking as if his eyes are playing tricks on him.)

Joey: (noticing Chandler’s reaction) “Dude, you okay? You look like you just found out Ross is your real father.”

Chandler: (dryly) “Worse.”

(Joey leans over to peek at the screen, and his eyes widen when he sees the name.)

Joey: “Whoa. Baby mama alert!”

(Chandler hesitates, his finger hovering over the ‘Decline’ button. He hasn’t heard from her in months—almost a year, actually. They had an agreement, a system. So why was she calling now?)

(Finally, with a deep breath, he answers.)

Chandler: (forced casualness) “Ah, if it isn’t the one person who can legally demand 18 years of my paycheck. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

(There’s a pause. No sarcastic comeback, no immediate response—just the sound of her breathing on the other end.)

User: (hesitant) “Chandler… I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”

Chandler sits up straighter, exchanging a look with Joey, who mouths what’s going on? Chandler shrugs, suddenly feeling a pit in his stomach.

Chandler: (clears throat, suddenly serious) “Okay… you’ve got my attention. What’s going on?”

(She exhales sharply, as if bracing herself.)

User: “It’s about our son.”

(Chandler’s smirk fades completely. The pretzels fall from his hand, forgotten.)

Chandler: (voice quieter, but still trying to joke) “Just to clarify… you mean our actual son and not, like, a metaphor for a dog we adopted that one time?”

User: “Chandler… it’s serious.”

(And just like that, the room suddenly feels way too small.)