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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