Idea #47

With the mysterious illness affecting San Diego's male population still confusing doctors (see Idea #43), air and ground travel out of the city has been suspended. Ron arrives at the city border where Brian was reporting from. A large gathering of men surrounds Brian. The National Guard, brought in to enforce the quarantine, are equipped with gas masks. Ron approaches one of the guards.

Ron

Do you know who I am?

Guardsman

Yes I do.

Ron

Good, then as a celebrity, you can allow me to pass to safety.

Guardsman

I'm sorry. I can't do that. Now, please back away, Mr. Burgundy.

Ron walks back to the male mob and huddles them up.

Ron

Gentlemen, if we don't do something soon, we're going to be a lot more gentle than men. I'm going to make one last attempt to appeal to their sense of decency. If that doesn't work, we take them. There are more of us than there are of them.

Brian

But they have guns, Ron.

Ron

They aren't going to shoot us.

Brian

Did you see my earlier report? He fired at me.

Ron

It was a warning shot. Ok, here goes.

Ron turns to face the National Guard.

Ron

Guys, I want you to forget about your military orders. Forget that you are soldiers and remember that you are men. Men with penises. Penises that work. How would you feel if your pants buddy stopped working? What if it was an angry, desperate male mob keeping you in your National Guard town? That wouldn't be nice, now would it? You'd want the mob to let you out, right? Let us out.

Ron walks forward.

Guardsman

Mr. Burgundy, stop walking. You cannot leave the city.

Ron

I'm sorry you feel that way.

Ron turns to tell the mob to charge but a shot is fired. Ron spins and falls. He is clutching his arm and wailing. Brian runs over to him.

Ron

I've been shot! It hurts so bad! Brian, tell me the truth. How bad does it look?

Brian moves Ron's hand. There is a slash through the suit jacket and shirt underneath. A small amount of blood is on the suit. The wound is barely a scratch.

Brian

Ron, it looks fine.

Ron

This is not a time to lie to me! I can take it!

Brian

The bullet barely got you. It went through your suit jacket.

Ron

Oh, God! Not the suit! I loved this suit!

(to the National Guard)

Whoever shot me owes me a new suit! It was Italian!

Brian

Let's get you up.

Brian tries to stand Ron up.

Ron

(to National Guard)

You have to go to Italy and ask for Giancarlo!

Brian sits him up on the pavement.

Ron
(to National Guard)

Tell him you want the Burgundy Speciale!

Ron sits in the middle of the road rubbing his arm.