December 24th, nine p.m.
Eastern Standard Time from here on in
I shoot without a script
See if anything comes of it
Instead of my old shit
First shot Roger
Tuning the Fender guitar
He hasn't played in a year
This won't tune
So we hear
He's just coming back
From half a year of withdrawal
Are you talking to me?
Not at all
Are you ready? Hold that focus steady
Tell the folks at home what you're doing Roger?
I'm writing one great song
The phone rings
We screen
Zoom in on the answering machine