EXT. STREET -- MANHATTAN -- DAY Inches from the ground, the camera follows ANTONIO'S racing FEET through a rush-hour crowd. A forest of legs gathers as Antonio waits for a stoplight. Free again, Antonio's feet cross the intersection, dodge a spilled Slurpee, and turn down a RESIDENTIAL STREET. Scuffing through autumn leaves and restaurant handbills Antonio's feet are surprised by the snarl of a BLITHERING LAPDOG whose jaws fill the frame. The camera, spooked, tries to hide behind Antonio's ankles to no avail. A renewed barrage of yapping drives the camera up Antonio's PANT LEG. Dangerous teeth and gums can still be seen in the loose cuff. The camera turns and tracks up, up, up PAST THE KNEE and into the folds of a pair of VOLUMINOUS BOXER SHORTS. One final paroxysm of barking and . . . oh, boy . . . don't tell me . . . through the CIRCULAR GATE and . . . yikes . . . it's going to be a tight squeeze! INT. ANTONIO'S COLON --- NIGHT The camera floats into the cavernous calm, catches its breath for a moment and then . . . oh, brother! . . . we're on are way up, up through the sinuous tunnels like some grim gothic waterpark. The camera dives through a wall . . . bloody membranes . . . bleagh . . . and . . . daylight! EXT. ANTONIO'S NAVEL --- DAY The camera nests amidst the lint, surveying the world from beneath shade of Antonio's high-riding T-shirt. It pans down disdainfully to the distant dog below. |