NEIGHBORHOOD CORNER, NEAR PHILADELPHIA, PA – DAY

Joey Crawford stands tall and proud in his bright orange vest. The morning sun reflects off his freshly shaved head as he menacingly pounds his hand held Stop sign into his meaty palm. He glares down at the assembled 8-year old Kids.

CRAWFORD: Alright, you kids know the rules. No pushing. No shoving.

Two Kids are chatting quietly. Crawford thrusts his Stop sign in between them.

CRAWFORD: No talking.

A Little Girl raises her hand.

CRAWFORD: No questions.

She lowers it with dejection.

CRAWFORD: My job is to get you safely across the street and into that school. That’s why they pay me: To control this intersection. I decide who goes where and when. I decide when these cars yield and move freely. Understood?

The Kids are unsure of if or how they should respond.

CRAWFORD: Good. Now, let me tell you one more time exactly how we’re going to do this. First…

Crawford can’t help but notice that the Little Girl from before is squirming and fidgeting.

CRAWFORD: Excuse me. Do we have a problem?

The Little Girl is hesitant to answer.

CRAWFORD: You may speak.

LITTLE GIRL: Crossing Guard Crawford, I haf to go to da bafroom. That’s why I waised my hand.
CRAWFORD: Well, young lady, you may go the “baf-room” on your own time. This is Joey time. And no one is going anywhere until I think we’re ready. Got it?

LITTLE GIRL: Yes.

CRAWFORD: Yes what?

LITTLE GIRL: Yes sir.

CRAWFORD: You’re on notice.

The Little Girl drops her head in shame.

CRAWFORD: Anyone else got a problem?

All eyes are cast towards the pavement.

CRAWFORD: Good. Now this is how this is gonna work. I am going to walk into the middle of the street and order all the cars to stop. When they do so, I will motion to you. Upon seeing that motion, you will briskly, but calmly cross the street in a single file. I will not tolerate any deviation from that procedure. No ifs, ands or buts.

Naturally, the word “buts” elicits some titters among the young grade-schoolers. Steam practically shoots out of the cartoonish crossing guard’s ears.

CRAWFORD: What, may I ask, is so funny?

LITTLE GIRL: You said “buts.”

CRAWFORD: I said “buts.”

A smile creeps on to Crawford’s face.

CRAWFORD: I guess that could be seen as somewhat amusing, huh?

The Little Girl smiles and shakes her head “yes.”

CRAWFORD: I mean, here I am, a professional official doing my best to uphold the honor and integrity of my duties and I’m rambling on about butts. I guess that is silly.

The Kids now giggle with delight until…

Crawford slams his Stop sign down to the ground in a rage.

CRAWFORD: What are you, a bunch of 12 year olds?!!!

LITTLE GIRL: No, sir, we’re 8.

CRAWFORD: You! You’re outta here. That’s it.

LITTLE GIRL: But, but I…

CRAWFORD: Not so funny now is it?

LITTLE GIRL: What about school?

CRAWFORD: It looks like you’ll be absent today.

The Kids stand frozen in terror.

CRAWFORD: Good day young lady.

The Little Girl runs off. Crawford stares down at his insolent charges.

CRAWFORD: Have I ever told you kids about the wonderful times I had as a boy with my favorite aunt? My Aunt Fanny.

The Kids all look at the ground.

CRAWFORD: That’s what I thought. Now, let’s get you tykes across the street.

Crawford struts into the street with his Stop sign held up to the oncoming traffic. A line of cars screech to a halt – but it all happens too quickly. The lead car is rear ended by the vehicle directly behind it. The Driver jumps out in rage.

DRIVER: Are you nuts?!

CRAWFORD: Sir, please get back in your vehicle.

DRIVER: The light was green! You can’t just step in front of traffic like that.

CRAWFORD: Hey buddy, don’t tell me my business. I’ve got a very important job to do, and I’m going to do it in the best way I see fit.

On the other side of the street, another car tries to skid to a stop to avoid the cluster in the middle of the road, but it swerves into a mailbox.

DRIVER: You’re causing car wrecks left and right.

CRAWFORD: If that’s what needs to be done for me to keep order, then so be it. I won’t stand here and have my methods questioned.

DRIVER: Your job is to simply get those kids across the street safely. It should be straightforward and, frankly, non-confrontational.

CRAWFORD: Are you saying you want a piece of me?

DRIVER: What’s your problem?

CRAWFORD: Look pal, the people expect me to get results. Period.

The Little Girl is led by her angry Mother to the intersection.

MOTHER: Hey! You! Crossing Guard!

CRAWFORD: Another satisfied fan.

MOTHER: What’s the deal here? You sent my daughter home?

CRAWFORD: That’s right. She disrespected me in front of all the other children.

MOTHER: Oh really. Which part was so emasculating: asking to use the bathroom or having harmless fun with her friends?

CRAWFORD: Frankly, I didn’t care for either.

The Principal runs up to the scene.

PRINCIPAL: Mr. Crawford, what on Earth is going on here?

CRAWFORD: Hello, Principal Harsh. Great to see you.

PRINCIPAL: Great to see me? You’ve got me knee deep in another one of your spectacles.

CRAWFORD: Now hold on. Do you want the job done right or do you…?

PRINCIPAL: You’re not even getting the job done. The job is getting the kids across the street.

Crawford shrugs in confusion. The Principal points to the Little Girl and her Mother.

CRAWFORD: She was disruptive!

PRINCIPAL: She is a little girl who needs to get to school. Your job is to help her do so. No one expects or wants you to do anything other than that.

CRAWFORD: But I…

PRINCIPAL: I don’t want to hear it. I’m sick of fielding complaints about you.

CRAWFORD: Next, I suppose you’re going to tell me to wait for the lights to change before stepping into the street.

The Principal throws up her arms as in, “Yeah. Duh.”

CRAWFORD: Oh come on! I need to be able to interpret the rules as I see fit or I simply cannot do this job any longer.

PRINCIPAL: Well. There you go.

CRAWFORD: I see.

Crawford turns over his Stop sign and orange vest.

CRAWFORD: I guess these streets are no place for a man with a vision for success and the willingness to use any means available to achieve it.

PRINCIPAL: Where will you go?

CRAWFORD: I don’t know. I hear there might be some openings down in Washington.