Setting: a bar.
Time: midnight
Characters:
BROOKS and SANDY: two people. Age, gender, ethnicity to be determined by production group.
BROOKS and SANDY sit at bar, large, full glasses of beer in front of them.
BROOKS: You ever think it’d be like this? A glass of beer at midnight?
SANDY: Nope.
BROOKS: I mean, I always thought there’d be, I don’t know, a bit more anticipation, a bit more preparation, you know?
SANDY: Yeah.
BROOKS: Something big, something spectacular—like all those movies with what’s-his-name and sand and stuff.
SANDY: Who?
BROOKS: You know, the actor. Big guy. Did lots of movies in the 50s and 60s. Based on Bible stories. Then became a gun nut. NRA and all that. Cold dead hands.
SANDY: Cold dead hands???
BROOKS: The bumper sticker. Don’t you remember? “The only way you’ll register my guns is to pry them out of my cold, dead hands?”
SANDY: Oh. Yeah.
BROOKS: So who was the actor? The one who became a gun nut?
SANDY: Reagan?