A white guy and a black guy who are best friends. They share an interest in spiritually-oriented martial arts, among other things, and are friendly rivals in their dojo.
At some point, the white guy performs some kindness for the black guy that is above and beyond the usual measure of friendship, like donating a kidney to his kid or something.
The black guy is a firefighter, and one night the white guy, who is a truck driver, rolls his tanker truck on the highway. The black guy executes a dramatic rescue at great personal risk, climbing into the ruined cab and dragging his friend to safety before the truck is obliterated in a massive fireball.
Later, they are eating in a convenience store they have frequented, and the white guy reveals that he has always been bitterly jealous of the black guy, who always seems to be one step ahead of him in their mutual pursuits and interests. He’d thought that his apparently selfless kidney donation had cinched his place as the better man, but that’s clearly no longer the case, and he can no longer keep up the facade.
The black guy handles this revelation of his friend’s anger and spite, evidence of a deep and serious insecurity, with aplomb and humor. His understanding does nothing at all to salve the white guy’s feelings, and in fact fans the flames. The white guy can’t contain his ire, and tells his former friend that he’d better leave. He does, and as he drives off, the white guy, standing in the doorway of the store, whispers “The next time I see you, you’re a dead man.”
He goes back inside and purchases a few twinkies, joking with the cashier girls as if nothing is amiss. One of them makes a quip about him paying with sexual favors of some kind, and he responds with a laugh that they probably don’t have that much change on hand.
As he leaves, a large (class 4) truck begins making its way through the parking lot swiftly and menacingly toward him. As it approaches, he flings the twinkies at the windshield and turns to run back through the alley between shops where the truck cannot follow. He runs up a pile of snow left from plowing and uses the elevation to scramble over a 12′ chainlink fence.
There follow several days of fleeing cross country, through various, mostly uninhabited forests and wetlands.