EXT. ROCKY MOUNTAINS - DAY
Majestic snow-capped peaks. ZOOM IN on a pass, where skiers and snowboarders zip down the hill. One snowboarder in particular WHOOPS as he speeds in front of others, charged with adrenaline and having a grand old time.
GREG (V.O.)
That isn’t me. It could have been, I guess, if I weren’t scared of, you know...snow.
EXT. SEINE RIVERBANK - DAY
Artists flock about the river, with paints and pencils and pastels, to capture the glory of a beautiful day in Paris. One man dabs at a gorgeous painting suffused with light.
GREG (V.O.)
That could have been me.
PAN to a man working on a far more mediocre sketch.
GREG (V.O.)
Actually, probably that guy.
INT. CLASSY RESTAURANT - NIGHT
A romantic, candlelit dinner. A man brushes his fingers against a woman’s hand, both of them smiling. FREEZE FRAME.
GREG (V.O.)
Who am I even kidding? I couldn’t have been any of these people. I’m not sure I would have wanted to be, but now I’ll never know.
INT. GREG’S HOUSE - NIGHT
A well-constructed space, with tasteful furniture, but bare except for organizers and the odd filing cabinet.
GREG WILSON (32) sits at a desk with QuickBooks open on his computer and tax information in front of him. He slips his reading glasses on. He’s plain-looking, but you get the feeling he could be cute if he didn’t act like he was trying to be invisible.
GREG (V.O.)
I wish I had at least tried.
But I was the type who looked at the actuarial table of risk and decided to play it safe.
Greg pushes the tax returns into a neat pile and takes a bite of sweet and sour pork from the takeout container on his desk. His hands go to his throat as the pork becomes lodged in his windpipe.
Panic! Greg fumbles for his phone and dials 9-1-1.
911 OPERATOR (V.O.)
9-1-1. What is your emergency?
Greg can’t answer. He bends over and tries to give himself the Heimlich maneuver, but slips and falls, CRACKING his head against the floor.
GREG (V.O.)
So much for that.