9:00 P.M. Under Route 101.
It is nightfall. The almost-silhouetted gangs come in from separate sides: climbing over the fences or crawling through holes in the walls. There is silence as they fan out on opposite sides of the cleared space. Then one of the Yahoos' Sidekicks rings, and they really have to take this call, so everyone waits and a few Googlers check in on Dodgeball.
SHELLEN: Wait, I totally have to moblog this.
TERRY: Hold it!
BUTTERFIELD: Get with the gang.
CASE: Maybe he has found the guts to fight his own battles.
TERRY [with billionaire smile]: It doesn't take guts if you have a battle. But we haven't got one, 'Caseo.
CASE: El Caseo.
A rumble breaks out. In the commotion, Butterfield goes down. Shellen breaks a nail. The groups stand off.
Case and Schachter pull out Razrs. They circle each other and jab the air. This goes on for about an hour, including 20 minutes where SCHACHTER is stuck in meetings. Eventually:
SCHACHTER: You're finished, boy!
TERRY: Josh, don't! [Schachter hesitates a moment; the moment is enough for El Caseo, whose hand goes forward with a driving motion, running his Razr into Schachter. Terry leaps forward to catch Schachter. He breaks his fall, then takes the Razr in hand, leaps at the triumphant El Caseo. Terry rams his Razr into El Caseo. The kids waver, run one way, another, in panic, confusion, and fatigue from being too far from the Google snack room. As the stage is cleared, Terry stands, horrified, over the still bodies of Schachter and El Caseo. He bends over Schachter's body; then he rolls El Caseo's body over and stares. Then Terry raises his voice in an anguished cry.]