INT. POOL HALL - DAY
On a tv screen, a reporter talks about the kidnapping.
The President was taken in the wee hours of the morn, by an
unknown scalawag. His face was hidden by black garb, the likes commonly seen amongst ninjas.
Meanwhile, the two BAD DUDES, the baddest dudes you ever did see are drinking coca colas and shooting billards. They're twins and they wear tight black tanktops and baggy sweatpants. STRIKER wears grey, and BLADE wears brown.
Can you believe that stuff? Ain't no wheres safe these days!
Friggin' Ninjas, Striker! Friggin' Ninjas!
I swears. If'n I was there, I would taken a friggin' Louisville friggin' slugger to that mooks head.
Blade crushes his coke can with one hand.
To his friggin' head!
A BIKER takes a shot at the 9 ball, but misses.
Hey! You ladies going to talk politics all day or all you going to shoot pool?
Blades walks over, but Striker holds him back.
What that fairy say? What did he friggin' say?
Take a chill, bro. I'm sure he didn't mean nuthin' by it. I'm sure our biker friend here cares just as deeply about the goings on of this country as we do. Including the President.
The president can sit on it!
The two bad dudes are taken aback.
Did he just say what I thought he said. Striker, tell me my ears are broken or somethin. Tell me he didn't just say the President of the greatest friggin' country in the world can sit on it!
Oh, he said it, Blade. This guy must got a brick fer brains or somethin.
The President is a loser. And you two are losers!
The Biker's friends stand up in the back and walk to get their pal's back.
You're mistaken, my friend. My bro and I aren't losers.
Yeah, you friggin' tell this putz!
We're BAD DUDES!
They strike their pose. (continued later)