Anger tears me up inside... My own... or anyone else's.

Opening Scene
The evening sky was fading into twilight, the colors of the sunset mixing with the darkness that crept slowly over the city. The air outside was cool, a sharp breeze rattling the leaves of the trees outside Jack's apartment. Inside, the only sound was the quiet ticking of a clock on the wall, the occasional clink of glass, and the low hum of the city beyond the window.

Jack sat at the kitchen counter, a half-empty glass of whiskey in front of him. His fingers traced the rim of the glass absently, his eyes staring off into the distance. Jeeny, perched on the other side of the room, leaned against the doorframe, her gaze fixed on him, waiting. The silence between them was heavy, a conversation they both knew had to happen, yet neither had the courage to start.

Jeeny:
Finally, she spoke, her voice soft, yet there was an undeniable intensity behind it. “You know, Betty White once said, ‘Anger tears me up inside… My own… or anyone else’s.’” She watched Jack closely, her expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. “Do you ever feel like that? Like anger just… eats you up?”

Jack:
His eyes flicked to her, then back down to his drink, his jaw tightening slightly. “I don’t think I ever let it get that far,” he replied, his voice rough. “I’ve got enough inside me without letting someone else’s anger eat at me, too. But yeah, sometimes... it’s like this pressure, you know? You try to contain it, but it just keeps building.” He paused, swirling the whiskey in his glass, as if the motion would help him find the words. “It’s a beast. It’s a beast inside you. The way it can take over your thoughts, your actions... It’s like you can’t escape it, even if you try.”

Host:
The room felt colder, as if Jack’s words had taken the warmth with them. The faint clink of the ice in his glass echoed in the stillness, a reminder of the tension that hung thick in the air. Jeeny's eyes softened as she took a few steps forward, her voice gentle but filled with a quiet urgency.

Jeeny:
“But what if it doesn’t have to eat you up, Jack? What if it’s not about ignoring it or suppressing it, but finding a way to release it without it consuming you?” Her voice was calm, but there was a deep conviction behind every word. “Betty White said it tears her up—her own anger, or anyone else’s—but isn’t there a way to manage it? To make it so it doesn’t have that kind of power over us?”

Jack:
He let out a sharp, almost bitter laugh, though it didn’t touch his eyes. “Manage it? You can’t manage something that eats at you from the inside, Jeeny. You can’t just turn it off or push it aside. It’s always there, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to explode.” He took a deep sip of his drink, his expression hardening. “I’ve seen it in myself. You try to bottle it up, and then one day, it just—boom. It all comes out. And what do you have left? Ruined relationships. Words said that can never be taken back.”

Host:
The air in the room seemed to grow thicker with the intensity of their exchange. The soft glow of the lamp overhead flickered once, casting an odd, surreal light over the scene. Jeeny’s gaze didn’t waver, though the weight of his words seemed to settle on her chest. She stepped closer, her voice quieter, but no less powerful.

Jeeny:
“Anger’s not the enemy, Jack,” she said softly. “It’s how we choose to deal with it that matters. You can’t pretend it doesn’t exist, but you don’t have to let it control you either. It’s about finding a way to release it before it becomes something worse. Something that does tear you up from the inside.” She paused, looking into his eyes, her voice filled with quiet strength. “You’ve got to let it out, Jack. You can’t keep it locked inside forever.”

Jack:
He looked at her for a long time, his gaze flickering between her face and the glass in his hand. “How do you do that, though?” he asked, his voice softer now, less defensive. “How do you stop it from taking you over? I’ve tried to shut it down, to ignore it… but it’s always there, just waiting for a crack to slip through.”

Jeeny:
Her eyes softened, and she took a step closer to him. “You can’t shut it down completely, Jack. But you can choose how to release it. Maybe that’s what Betty White meant. Anger isn’t bad—it’s what you do with it that matters. Maybe it’s about finding healthy outlets, ways to express it without it tearing you apart or hurting others.” She paused for a moment, letting the words settle. “For me, it’s talking about it, facing it head-on, and finding peace in the process of letting go.”

Host:
The clock ticked on, each second a quiet reminder of time passing. The soft murmur of the city outside seemed far away, as if the room had become a small universe in itself, holding only their voices and the space between them. Jack remained still, his fingers gripping the edge of his glass, but there was a subtle shift in his posture, as if the weight of his own anger had become more manageable.

Jack:
He exhaled slowly, the tension in his body easing just a fraction. “I don’t know, Jeeny. I don’t know if I can ever really control it. But I’ll try. Maybe you’re right... maybe it’s about finding a way to release it, without letting it become something that destroys me.”

Jeeny:
Her lips curled into a small, encouraging smile. “It’s not about perfection, Jack. It’s about progress. Acknowledging it, releasing it, and learning how to move forward without it holding you back.” She paused, letting the quiet of the room fill the space between them. “It’s a battle, but it’s one worth fighting.”

Host:
The soft light in the room seemed to warm, and for a moment, the tension lifted. Outside, the wind had calmed, and the world beyond the window seemed to hold its breath. Inside, Jack and Jeeny were left with a fragile understanding—not a solution, but a quiet acknowledgment that facing anger was part of the journey, and learning to release it without letting it consume them was a choice they could both make.