DINER, CLEVELAND, OHIO – DAY

Scot Pollard walks into a local diner to get some breakfast, like any other normal day. As he approaches the counter, the Grillman looks up.

POLLARD: Hey Grillman, make me some eggs, will ya?

GRILLMAN: Hey, what’s up Scot? You got it.

Pollard motions to a Guy sitting at the counter whose coat is laid out on the neighboring seat.

POLLARD: Hey Guy, move your coat, please.

GUY: Oh, yeah. Of course.

The Guy moves the coat and Pollard takes a seat at the counter.

Two middle school aged Kids approach Pollard while their Mom and Dad look on from a nearby booth.

KID1: Wow! Scot Pollard.

Pollard fishes out two tickets from his pocket and presents them to the Kids.

POLLARD: Hey kids, enjoy the next game on me.

Mom and Dad smile on with glee.

KID2: Gee, thanks Mr. Pollard.

KID1: You’re the greatest.

As they turn back to their parents, Pollard calls out to them warmly.

POLLARD: Hey kids – one more thing – go get some rocks and throw them through this giant front window.

KID2: What?! Why?

Pollard shrugs with indifference.

KID1: Come on man! Let’s just do it. This is Scot Pollard! He averaged nearly 7 points a game in 2002.

KID2: Awesome!

The Kids high five and run out. Dad is outraged.

DAD: Hey, where are you going?!

MOM: Oh, they’re fine honey.

DAD: They are not fine. What is this nonsense?

MOM: Shhhh!

She looks around nervously. Pollard eyes them suspiciously, but then turns his attention to the Guy sitting next to him at the counter.

POLLARD: That sure is a nice watch.

GUY: Thanks. It was my old man’s. He died when I was just a baby, but luckily I have this to…

POLLARD: Hey Guy, let me have it.

GUY: This watch? Well, like I said, uh…well, it, uh…

Pollard cocks his head to the side inquisitively.

GUY: Ah, what the hell. I’m sure my father would have preferred it belong to a man who averages nearly one block per game, rather than his only son.

Pollard takes the watch and admires it on his wrist, as the Mayor bursts through the door.

MAYOR: Whoo-eee, that wind is a blowin’.

GRILLMAN: Wow! The Mayor of Cleveland and Scot Pollard in my diner at the same time?! Unbelievable!

MAYOR: Don’t mind me. I just thought I’d get out of the snow for a minute. Boy, it’s really coming down.

POLLARD: I love when the whole city is covered with snow. Hey Mayor, let’s not plow today.

MAYOR: Well, that could be, uh, well…

Pollard furrows his brow.

MAYOR: Aw heck. You may pull down only one third the rebounds per game as Rodman did, but your ever-changing hair is five times as cool as his ever was. How can I resist?

POLLARD: Thanks.

MAYOR: Ahem, well, uh, I suppose I have some calls to make.

The Mayor trots out as the Grillman places a plate of eggs in front of Pollard, who eagerly takes a bite.

POLLARD: Ugh! These are terrible. Hey Grillman, you can take these eggs and shove them up…

Ring! Ring! Pollard’s cell phone is blowing up. He checks the ID.

POLLARD: Hey, it’s Bron Bron.

He chats on the phone as the Grillman stares warily at the plate of eggs and then at the counter Guy.

GRILLMAN: So, was that a directive or a suggestion or what?

The Guy cringes uneasily and shrugs. Pollard wraps up his call.

POLLARD: Hey Lebron – one thing before you go – fire your agent and get your inexperienced high school buddies to run your career. (PAUSE) Oh, right. Nice job.

He ends the call and pushes the plate of eggs towards the Grillman.

POLLARD: What are these still doing here?

GRILLMAN: Oh, so, I should…?

Crash! Crash! Crash! A barrage of rocks shatters the diner’s large front window. Mom and Dad jump from their seats in horror.

DAD: Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! Look what he made our boys do!

MOM: Oh, it’s okay. It’s all over now.

The Kids stand outside the shattered window waving proudly at Pollard. A Police Officer runs up and grabs them.

OFFICER: You kids are in a lot of trouble.

KID1: Oh yeah? Look.

He points to Pollard and the Officer’s jaw drops.

OFFICER: Scot Pollard?

POLLARD: Hey Officer, let ‘em go.

OFFICER: Oh, yes, uh, yes sir, you’re the boss…

The Officer nervously searches his pockets, finally locating two lollipops. He hands them to the Kids.

OFFICER: Run along now, you little scamps.

They do. The Officer tips his cap to Pollard. Dad is flipping out.

DAD: Look at this! Look at all the trouble you’re causing. You’re abusing your power!

MOM: Honey, please, settle down. (To Pollard) He’s just kidding Mr. Pollard.

DAD: No I’m not. We should not stand for this.

POLLARD: Hey buddy, go jump off a bridge or something.

A hush falls over the diner. Dad ceases all whining and stares at Pollard with pleading eyes.

But Pollard coldly nods towards the door. Dad bravely kisses the now weeping Mom goodbye and trudges out.

POLLARD: Now, listen up. Like any situation, I am in complete control. So, hey everyone, just relax.