INT. TUBA STORE - DAY
CHUCK MACK, twenties, stands wrapped in a shiny SOUSAPHONE. The diminuative young man looks himself over in the showroom mirror.
CHUCK
I don't really think this is me.
MILT ROGERS, portly, forties, shop owner, stands behind Chuck.
MILT
Of course it's you. You just don't know it yet.(Beat)It makes you look taller.
Chuck checks the price tag which hangs from the mouthpiece, $4,999.99.
CHUCK
I can't afford this.
Chuck starts to lift the instrument off of his body. Milt reaches over and stops him.
MILT
Chuck, do yourself a favor. Give it a test drive. Get out and walk around. See how this thing really feels.
CHUCK
I don't even know how to play this thing.
Milt is already pushing Chuck out of the shop.
MILT
Details! DUCK!
CHUCK
What?
MILT
DUCK!
Chuck ducks to avoid hitting the doorway on his way out.
CHUCK
I don't think this is gonna work-
MILT
Chuck, buddy. Why did you come in my shop today?
CHUCK
I was on my way to ask out a girl but I chickened out so I came in here to distract myself.
MILT
Trust me. This will blow her away!
Milt closes the shop door and flips over "open" sign so that it now reads "closed".
Chuck stands in front of the shop, confused.