As the sun slips below the Brooklyn horizon, an unlikely but accomplished novelist lurches from a narcotic, alcohol-induced slumber and goes barreling into the toilet bowl to purge anything and everything that's recently made its way into his body. A few dry heaves later, he turns to see a dead girl lying in the tub next to him - this is an unexpected discovery. When he conveys this development to the groggy blue-collar foursome also coming to in the apartment with him, none claim to have any clue as to how the beautiful girl ended up a lifeless bathroom fixture. The earlier substance-fueled exploits - an all-day "sendoff" shindig for one of them heading to jail on cocaine trafficking charges - that led the six of them back to the apartment are gradually pieced together by the crew, but no explanation of what appears to be some fairly serious foul play emerges from their reconstruction. Their thirty-plus-year history of friendship, and a number of inter-group betrayals coming to light, only serve to compound the tension that mounts between them as they search for a solution to their predicament. The five guys juggle their emotions and the situation, all with their own variations of life at stake, throughout the night in an effort to transcend blame and find a solution that lets them all do right by each other. The finger-pointing quickly becomes moot as the true examination comes into focus - is man capable of prioritizing love and friendship over self-preservation? catch 22 explores the inherent despicable side of the human condition and its ability to find a positive balance with all that condition can and does throw at you - it's heinously dark at every step of the way, just like life.