Owen looks to a black notebook laying on the table in front of Jake.

OWEN
Must be fucked up not knowing who you are. But you remember other shit. Like you knew what a gator was.

JAKE
Yeah, and I can tell you the Phins never won a Super Bowl with Marino and who the last eight presidents have been. Just with me man, I don't know anything.

OWEN
Fucked up.

Owen mashes out his cigarette, and nods to the notebook.

OWEN (CONT'D)
Sure would like to know how my name ended up in there.

JAKE
Wish I had an answer for you.

OWEN
You not exactly a man of answers. But I'm going to have to get some out of you anyway.

Owen looks smug. He pulls a handgun from underneath the table and lays it on top, pointed in Jake's direction. Jake eyes the notebook, looking nervous.

OWEN (CONT'D)
So if you don't know who you are, how come you say to call you Jake?

JAKE
(eyes on the gun)
They called me John Doe Number Two in the hospital. Nurse said she didn't like calling me by a number, so she started calling me Jake Doe. I liked that better.

OWEN
Why don't you tell me why you are really here?

Owen lays both his palms face down on the table, his right hand next to the gun.

OWEN (CONT'D)
I don't got to use this unless you give me any trouble. How about you let me take a look at that notebook there, see if there's any other names I might recognize?

Jake nods, raising his hands. Owen nods back. Jake picks up the notebook and raises his hands again, the fingers of his right hand wrapped firmly around it.

JAKE
I'm just trying to figure out who I am. I don't need any trouble.

OWEN
Good then, we're on the same page.

Somewhere outside there is yelling, and Owen looks past Jake in that direction. Taking advantage of the moment, Jake stands, kicking the chair out from underneath him, and brings the notebook down hard on the hand of Owen's closest to the gun. Then he smashes the notebook cradled in his palm into Owen's face and picks up the gun with his free hand. Blood is running down Owen's face from his nose.

Jake points the gun at Owen, looking like he's done it before.

JAKE
You've got to listen to me. I didn't want to do that. I don't know who the fuck you are, but if your name's in this notebook you're in trouble.

Owen coughs, his eyes wide like he might make a move.

OWEN
The fuck you talking about?

JAKE
I don't think the notebook's mine.

OWEN
(beat)
You ever think you might not want to know who you really are?

Jake opens his mouth to answer, but a red laser pointer dot appears on the side of Owen's head. Before Jake can get a word out, the window shatters...

JAKE
Look out!

...and a bullet hole opens in Owen's skull, blood trickling out.

Jake backs against the kitchen counter, away from the busted out window, a look of fear on his face.