INT. FRAT HOUSE, NIGHT
We open on BRET, a ’13, who is behind the bar in his crowded frat house, and JACK, a ’15, who wants a drink. JACK is holding up one finger and looking repeatedly in the direction of BRET.
Hey man, want a drink, eh?
Uh, sure? Anything, yeah.
Is Guinness okay? We ran out of Molson’s a minute ago.
Yes! I mean, yes, Guinness is okay. I’ll take a Guinness. Please. What was that other drink you mentioned?
Molson’s. Y’know, Molson’s Canadian? It’s all we drink around here. It reminds us all of home.
Are you from the Midwest or something? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Molson’s around here.
Nah, we’re from Canada, eh! Didn’t you know that?
Jack is becoming increasingly flustered. Just then, MIRANDA, an attractive ’15 in a tight turtleneck sweater, walks over.
Hey, could I get something to drink?
Sure, I’ll grab you a beer once these guys over here get some.
Wait, why aren’t you getting her a drink right away? She’s a freshman girl, and you’re an upperclassman guy! (To Miranda) And why are you so ready to wait for a beer? Couldn’t you get hard liquor in an instant in any frat just by showing a little skin? What the hell is wrong with you people!?
It just wouldn’t be polite, y’know?
Wait, you’re Canadian, too?
Of course she is, eh? Most of us are down here.
JACK gives up on trying to get a drink and instead decides to try and get on table.
Hey bro, what’s line like?
Oh, uh, I guess you could get on next? Thanks for asking, buddy! Most people wouldn’t be that polite, y’know?
Oh, fuck this.