EXT. SMALL TOWN STREET - DAY
DALT STICKLE, a boy around 6, walks down the street nursing a melting ice cream cone. He tries to lick it as it melts all over his hands.He steps off the curb to cross the street, his gaze never leaving the messy cone.A CAR HORN BLARES at him as a rusted-beast of a car barrels at him.
DALT’S DAD, mid 30s, blue-collar, grabs him and pulls him back onto the sidewalk as the car speeds by and zooms off.
Holy-Jesus-loving-Christ! What ails you, Dalt? Huh? You trying to get yourself killed?
No, I was.....
That car woulda dragged your skin-and-bones down the street, your face scraping against the god-damn road the whole way!
Peel it clean off it would!
Don’t “But Dad” my ass. Staring at that mess of an ice cream cone like it was the holy-god-damn-grail.
But I like vanilla.
Well, vanilla almost got you killed.
Dalt’s Dad walks off ahead of him. Dalt follows, tossing the cone away.
When you’re a kid you think you’re invincible. And then life takes a shit on you.