Scene: See prompt picture above. Translation of caption: "There is always a way to get in."
The Characters: a young woman in her mid-twenties; her friend on the cell phone; an elderly couple.
(The young woman is sitting on her stoop looking at the couple across the street)
Young woman: Angie! I’m scared. There is a weird old French couple sitting on the bench across the street staring at me.
Cell phone: How do you know they're French?
Young woman: Because they are all like mon dooo and sacre bloooo and shit!
Cell phone: Canadians speak French too.
Young woman: Why do they do that? Like, is that going to help their case for becoming the next state?
Cell phone: I think you've mixed them up with Puerto Rico. Did they speak to you?
Young woman: When I saw them there, I put Fluffy on her leash, walked down the street and back up on their side, so I walked right past them.
Cell phone: Did they say anything?
Young woman: The woman said something about a "petite chien." I know petite means small because that is the dress size to which I aspire. I know my chin isn’t my best feature but that frog bitch had some nerve dissing me on it.
Cell phone: Frog?
Young woman: My dad says that’s what they call the French because they eat frogs!
Girls in tandem: EEEEEEEEWWWWWW……GROSS!!!
Young woman: My dad says we don’t like them because they didn’t back us up when we invaded Indiana
Cell phone: We didn’t invade Indiana.
Young woman: Well, it was ONE of those middle east countries that begins with an I.
Cell phone: Is he wearing a beret?
Young woman: No.
Cell phone: Well, maybe he is Canadian. Don’t worry, they might be normal.
Young woman: Normal? I hope he doesn’t come over here and try to stick his tongue in my mouth. The French invented that, you know. They are so over-sexed, it isn’t even funny.
Cell phone: EEEEEWWWWW.
Young woman: Over-sexed and nervy too. You know my dad said they came over to OUR country and named one of OUR mountains, Grand Tetons. He said that means big tits in French. Can you imagine? That’s the same as us going over there and naming the Eiffel tower like the Hummongus Cock or something. No way!
Cell phone: No way!
Young woman: And they walk around in dead people’s clothes.
Cell phone: What?
Young woman: Christian Dior? Coco Chanel? Dead at least thirty years, but still going strong in France.
Cell phone: Creepy! Maybe you should call the cops.
Young woman: My friend, Laurie, said she would come over and deck them because she gets the shits whenever she eats their onion soup. Wait! They are getting up and looking down the street. They are walking to the curb! I think they are coming over! Help! Help!
(She runs in the house and slams the door. A city bus pulls up in front of the couple. Both doors open. The bus is jammed. The woman heads for the front door, but realizes it is too packed with people for her to enter. The old man takes her arm and directs her to the rear door.)
Old man: Voila! Il y a toujours un moyen d'entrer.
(The couple boards the bus. The doors close and it pulls away.)