EXT.  MELROSE AVE  - DAY

SUPER: January 16, 2019 

Acton wanders down Melrose, still wearing his now signature foto-gray lens glasses.  He dodges a dog walker with four charges on leashes which could be 10 feet shorter, a woman carrying her child and pushing her cat in a stroller, and a bright orange Mercedes SUV parked partially on the sidewalk with AAA changing its tire.  

A COP stands by simmering somewhere between boil and spontaneous combustion.  He and Acton lock eyes and exchange a look. 

                                              COP

                                       (shrugs)

                             Protect and serve.

                                            ACTON

                             Could be worse. If this were Beverly

                             Hills, you'd be holding the wrench, right?

                                             COP

                                         (laughs)

                              If this were Beverly Hills, I'd be

                              changing the tire!

Up all night working on a submission piece, Acton had slept until 10am.  Two  hours behind from his normal schedule, and was aimed at Verve Coffee on Melrose for a patio table under the eves, which the locals avoid on orders from their publicists.

Headed for the same table yesterday when he'd had to swim upstream against a Cameron Diaz migration with entourage, gawkers and a murder of paparazzi stalking the reflected glow of stardom.

After pachinko-balling off everyone but Diaz, Acton wondered why there weren't coin-operated Phisohex stations throughout the Hollywood area. This was still on his mind as he noticed,

INSERT BANK TEMPERATURE SIGN SHOWING 72 DEGREES

But that was yesterday when people were hiding from the hypothermic 55 degrees temp and a driving mist-like, airborne moisture imitating rain.  Today, it is like summer on the Volga with pop up contests everywhere for most skin shown without invoking the First Amendment.

The current winner is standing at Melrose and N. Almont.  Acton is standing behind her... next to the very uber-gay pop-up town crier, self-appointed as the corner's master of ceremonies.

Most notable about the winner is not the 3" gauze strip substituting for a top, nor the 5" Louboutin knockoffs nor even the red Lululemon tights easily 2 sizes smaller than what any Nordstrom personal shopper would recommend.  

What pulled the entire ensemble together was the iPhone Plus she carried conveniently held between the tights and where her undergarments might have been, the lack thereof confirmed by the iPhone's flashlight which shown sternward like a lighthouse beacon, warning, "Danger ahead." 

                                              Town Crier

                                          (nearly a shout)

                                   Oh My God!  Every bitch in Hollywood

                                   is trying to get into a spotlight and 

                                   this one brings her own! Does that

                                   have a low beam honey or are you 

                                   backing up?

The winner spins around and glares at Acton who, seeing his life pass before his eyes, quickly points to the 

Town Crier. The Winner and Town Crier move into recreational name calling just as the light changes and all the other innocent bystanders, including Acton, cross the street out of the blast zone.

Parked across the street is the same cop that was supervising the tire change. Acton sees him, thumbs back to the nutroll and the cop starts to laugh.  

                                                     COP

                                     If this was Beverly Hills, I might have

                                     to get involved in that. But this is LA and

                                     unless it's blocking traffic or bleeding, they 

                                     gotta dispatch me.  Some days are just 

                                     better than others, you know?

Acton and the cop go their separate ways, each, Acton is certain, leading to coffee.

--END SEQUENCE--