Johnny almost gagged as he spit the sip of beer from his mouth in surprise.

John Kreese, in prison? What did he go to prison for?

Johnny turned his attention back to his TV.

"In other news, a new pasta restaurant has just opened in Beverly Hills!" exclaimed reporter, Frankie Arnaz, excitedly.

"No, go back!" Johnny demanded as he started slamming all the buttons on his TV remote.

The TV began to randomly switch through channels and settings until Johnny just threw the remote down in frustration and ironically, the power button was pressed as it hit the floor.

"Whatever, I'll just find out for myself," said Johnny as dropped back down onto the couch.

Who should he go to to help him figure this out? Usually, he would ask Miguel to check the internet for news, but clearly that wasn't much of an option.

You know what, I don't need anyone's help. I'll just go down to the joint myself!

Johnny stood up and stormed out of his apartment, making sure to grab a beer on his way out.

"Why did LaRusso have to give me this stupid hunk of junk!" thought Johnny as he slammed his hands against the steering wheel before getting out. He didn't actually know which jail Kreese was being held in, he just went to the closest one. He pulled open the metal door and walked up to the front desk.

"I'm looking for John Kreese," stated Johnny impatiently.

"And you are?" questioned the front desk employee whose name tag was labeled with the name, Susan.

"Oh, right, I'm Johnny Lawrence," added Johnny as he looked around.

The place was a lot nicer than the jails he had been in. The walls were slick and silver instead of moldy and rusted. The floors were at least somewhat clean, cleaner than Johnny's apartment floor. One thing that was the same was the stale smell in the air.

Most of the times I've been arrested have been unwarranted anyway.

"I'm sorry, but there's already someone visiting Mr. Kreese," apologized Susan.

"Who?" asked Johnny in astonishment.

Tell me it's not Robby.

"Um, a Mr. Daniel LaRusso," answered Susan automatically as she read the name off of a signed document.
You have got to be kidding me!

"Why can't I visit him at the same time?"

"Because Mr. Lawrence, that wouldn't be customary."

"Oh, I'm sure he'd be fine with it, we're good friends," reassured Johnny, giving his best Johnny Lawrence smile.

She stared him down, examining his appearance cautiously. His blond hair was tangled, his Guns 'N' Roses t-shirt dirty, and he was literally holding a beer bottle.

"We met in high school," Johnny added.

"Hold on a moment," Susan asked as she got on the phone.

Well, I guess it's plan B then.

Once she had turned around, he quickly snuck behind her and down the hall.

Knew that would work.

He stopped once he got to the telephone desk. He saw a tall woman with red hair barely gripping the telephone, sobbing as she looked beyond the glass at a bunky man. Johnny quickly turned his attention to the other side of the desk. Intimate mushy gushy stuff always made him uncomfortable.
Then, he saw him.

Daniel LaRusso.

He was tapping his foot against the ground as he looked at his watch.

"You just had to show up here too, right?" remarked Johnny, sarcastically as he walked up to Daniel.

"Of course you're here," scoffed Daniel, rolling his eyes.

They both stared at one another, each with the single desire to prove themselves stronger, even with just a look.

"I'm looking for John Kreese's visitors?" the prison guard called out dully.

"That's me," answered Johnny and Daniel in unison as they both turned their attention to the guard.

"Whatever, just come to section B," advised the guard before walking off down the hall where Johnny had just come from.

They both gave each other one last seething look before they entered section B.

If looks could kill, LaRusso...

"And the gang's back together," smiled Kreese as he sat down on the opposite side of glass as Johnny and Daniel were sitting.
"Or at least, most of them," added Kreese, smirking at Daniel.

"We're not here for your mind games, Kreese," snapped Johnny.

"We just wanna know what Terry's plans are," explained Daniel, his voice calm.

That's not what I came here for.

"I thought you were smarter than that, LaRusso," sighed Kreese disappointingly.

"Why are you in here?" asked Johnny, seeing a chance to take over the conversation.

"For reasons I will not disclose here," stated Kreese.

"Here, what do you mean "here?" questioned Johnny.

"I mean that I will gladly answer your questions if you help me get out," whispered Kreese, plainly.

"Are you out of your mind!" yelled Daniel.

Even though there was no way he was going to help Kreese either, Johnny did enjoy seeing the veins popping out of Daniel's forehead.

"There's no way we're ever going to help you," declared Daniel firmly.

"For once in his life, LaRusso is right," said Johnny as Daniel side-eyed him.

Kreese merely shrugged.

"Well then, neither of us will be getting what we want, Mr. Lawrence," concluded Kreese.

I should have known this was a waste of time.

They both got out of their seats and stormed out of the room and out of the jail, Johnny making sure to duck slightly behind Daniel when passing the front desk.

"If you hadn't come here, maybe I could have gotten him to tell me what I needed," lectured Daniel, stopping in his tracks.

"Oh, yeah because I'm the one who messed that up," said Johnny sarcastically.

Daniel was about to open his mouth to throw another insult, but abruptly stopped, almost as if he thought it wasn't worth it.

Why isn't he yelling? This can't be a one way argument.

"I hope you find what you're looking for, Johnny," said Daniel honestly before getting in his car and closing the door.

"Yeah, whatever, LaRusso," shouted Johnny as he got into his own car and slammed the door.

Carmen had suggested he be the bigger man, but he couldn't. Daniel was too bull-headed.

I just really wish someone was here to help me. Miguel was here to help me.

"Ring, ring, ring" blared his phone loudly from inside his jeans pocket.

"What now," moaned Johnny as he pulled out his phone and read the caller ID.

It read:

Robby Keene

Johnny immediately picked up the phone.

"Hey, Robby, about earlier-" he started, but Robby cut him off.

"No, it's not about that, I just, I just need you to come home," asked Robby, his voice shaky.

He'd rarely ever heard him sound so, broken.

"I'm on my way."