Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Coffee Shop

EXT. STREET

A FOPPISH MAN dressed in Victorian garb (top hat, mustache, old-timey suit) walks down the street. He passes a young URCHIN.


URCHIN

Spare a shilling, sir?


FOP

You’ll just spend it on apples.


URCHIN

My leg hurts.


The Fop walks into a coffee shop.


INT. OLD-TIMEY COFFEE SHOP

It's incredibly loud inside the coffee shop: lots of clattering, clicking, and an occasional bell ding.


The Fop walks up to the counter. An old-timey BARISTA is behind the counter. The Fop and Barista talk to each other, but their dialogue is drowned out by the noise.


The Fop buys a coffee. As he turns to sit down, our point of view shifts so we can see what the noise is: everyone sitting in the coffee shop is working on a typewriter. They’re all wearing Victorian garb.


The Fop sits down next to a GUY with a typewriter.


FOP

What are you working on?


GUY

Freelance.


FOP

Ah.

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