Clean backyard, middle of the night. A wooden fence surrounds it. Flashing red and blue lights are seen behind the fence. A young man, dressed casually, hops the fence out of breath. Hunched over, he is breathing hard, and looking around anxiously.
Shot of Young Man hunched over in sharp focus. Behind him, about fifteen feet away, a silhouetted man sits out of focus, smoking a cigarette. Head and upper torso in a dark shadow, rendering him unrecognizable.
Chris: “Did you have a hard time finding the place?”
Young Man reacts in a surprised manner. Letting out a scared noise.
Chris: (Gesturing to a little side table with a pitcher of tea.) “Can I offer you some sweet tea?”
YM: “Look, I’m sorry I’m in your backyard, but, to be honest with you, I was at a party that the cops just busted, and I needed to find a place to lay low for a little.”
Chris stands slowly, and moves more into the light revealing himself to the young man. He puts the cigarette out slowly.
Chris: (Starts pulling out files from a small briefcase that was sitting next to his chair.) “A party, huh”
Young Man backs up half a step.
YM: “Yeah, and I’ll be out of your hair in a couple of minutes.”
Chris: (Gestures with files toward a short barstool set off to the side.) “No, no, I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you have a seat?”
YM: “Excuse me?”
Chris: (gesturing again) “Go ahead and take a seat.”
YM: (confused, and taken back.) “Look, sir, I don’t mean to “
Chris: (In a frank tone, slightly flustered.) “Take a seat. Sit on down. Sit down. Take it.”
Young Man slowly sits down on the barstool, looking extremely uncomfortable and defensive. Gestures towards the files in Chris’ hand.
YM: “What are those?”
Chris: “Oh these? These are just some files, permanent records, medical history, bank statements. You know, the works. Your whole life in a neat little packet of files.”
YM: (with confusion and shock, stammering) “Wh-Where did you get those?”
Chris: “I’ll ask the questions here-“(references a page from the files) “Eddie ‘Keg’ Steadman.”
YM: (looking confused and concerned)… only my friends call me “Keg”
Chris: I have a transcript of you talking with your friend… (checks files again)Teddy “Shats” Shatsenburg.
Chris: Oh yeah… you boys had plenty to say about what was going on this weekend… Even going in to graphic detail, and I quote:
Shat’s: Hey, dog you going to the party this weekend?
Keg: Totally bro I was so obliterated last time that when I woke up the next day, I was in my physics lecture taking a test.
Chris: than you two continue to discuss your juvenile conquests for the weekend… how many beers you can drink… How many dollar burritos you can eat in two minutes… who get’s the busted controller when you play Halo later… very eventful weekend.
YM: (Getting Defensive) hey man!
Chris: There’s talk about beer, there’s talk about condoms.
YM: Hey those condoms had a purpose.
Chris: Well Teddy said you didn’t need the condoms… You weren’t going to get any action anyways.
YM: (Complete betrayal and shock in voice) Shat’s said that??
Cuts to Hansen, staring blankly at the young man… cuts back to young man
YM: (Still confused and hurt by Shat’s comment)… who… wha… who are you?
Chris: I’m Christ Hansen with Dateline MSNBC
YM (WTF face… shocked and can’t say anything)
Chris: What do you have to say about all this?
YM: (Still confused)… I tell you what man I don’t know… I don’t know… you got me… can I go?
Chris: You’re free to leave whenever you want.
YM: silently walk out the back gate out in to the street. Show young man standing in the street (whispers under breath)… Jesus Christ!
Out of frame hear cop “There he is!”
Young man looks out of frame, in direction of sound, runs in opposite direction. Camera follows as he hops another fence into someone’s backyard. Camera slowly pans to show the mailbox in front of the house. Written on the side of the mailbox is “Geraldo R.”, fade out.