Philip: Officer, we were on our way to the movies in Burbank and—
Officer Ruiz: Burbank’s north of here. You and your wife come with me.
Mother glances at Philip, smiles over the man’s mistake.
Mother: Officer, this is my son, Philip. Not my husband.
Officer: Whatever. I’ve got a nice cozy spot for both of you.
Mother (To Philip): Shit. He’s taking us to jail.
Philip: At least we’ll be safe.
* * * *
INT. PATROL CAR—NIGHT
Mother and Philip settle into the back seat of a patrol car. We hear the riot sounds: sirens, muffled shots, and the whoosh of helicopter blades in the background.
Mother: That officer should be ashamed of himself. Arresting two seniors. (Looks at Philip) Uh…I mean, two middle-aged people like us.
Philip: Well, thank you for that, Mother.
Mother: You know what I mean.
They hear a voice from the front of the car.
Voice: You’re not under arrest.
Mother: Who said that?