The scene: A top-security research lab. Monday morning, 8 AM. The present.
Enter BOB, researcher extraordinaire. His lab partner, EDDIE, is already at his desk. They drink coffee out of space-age mugs.
BOB: Holy cow. I really tied one on last night.
EDDIE: That Night Train is a mean wine.
BOB: You’re tellin’ me. What’s on the to-do list?
EDDIE: Zip. Nada. Zero. Zilch.
BOB: Sounds good to me. I need a nap.
EDDIE: You know, Bob, I’ve been thinking …
EDDIE: What say (sly grin) we weaponize some bird flu?
BOB: Highly lethal and contagious? A super-spreader?
EDDIE: You’re reading my mind.
BOB: I always got a hankerin’ for a powerful new pathogenic organism. Especially one with a little Armageddon flavor.
EDDIE: Or we could just play World of Warcraft until somebody catches us goofing off.
BOB: No, let’s stick with the bird-flu thing.
EDDIE: A few mutations and, well, you are your father’s brother.
BOB: Easy as falling off a log.
EDDIE: It just hit me. Man, this is sweet.
BOB: C’mon, give.
EDDIE: We write up all the details and publish them in a major scientific journal.
BOB: Effin’ genius. That’s what that is.
EDDIE: I’m thinking Hollywood all the way. Six-figure option. Dustin Hoffman.
BOB: Anything I can do, personally, to get Dustin Hoffman back into a hazmat suit …
EDDIE: It’s not a win-win proposition. It’s more like a win-win-win proposition.