Scene: A kitchen filled with dwindling late-afternoon sunlight. A sluggish, still pajama-clad woman surveys the stack of dishes in the sink, then opens the door to the refrigerator; she stands there, contemplative. She pulls out a can of Coca-Cola.
Tired, 4 p.m. Gin: [pulls back the tab on the can]
Wired, 10:30 p.m. Gin: [rushes in, in slow motion] Nooooooooooo!