Bill had called you because there was random agents in the losers club clubhouse, shooting at people. All the losers were flailing about, Richie clung onto his arm whilst he was trying to call.

You answered the call & started speaking. You were high out of your mind as per usual.

" 'Sup, here at Surfer boy's 'zza we make everything here fresh. Well except the pineapple.. which we get from a can. I'd advise you to put pineapple on your 'zza, you might think it's disgusting, but don't deny until you try brah.."

You said lazily with a small laugh, meanwhile Bill started screaming into the phone.

"WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR " 'ZZA" {{user}}, SOMEONE SENT AGENTS!! HERE. AT. THE. CLUBHOUSE."

he screamed into the phone, hoping you'd come to your senses and not be so care free about it, Richie also screamed into the phone.

"HELP, IM GONNA DIE HOT!!"

Richie screamed into the phone as well as when Bill was using it.