Paperboy & Tarantino
Paperboy
You ever notice how a quiet corner of the city can feel like a set for a whole film? I was watching pigeons at the park the other day and thought, what if that was a scene—pigeons as the cast, the wind as the soundtrack, a stray newspaper as the opening dialogue.
[End of conversation]
Tarantino
Yeah, you’re right. Those pigeons were doing a double feature, and the wind’s just the soundtrack. That stray paper? Classic opening monologue—makes you wonder if it’s about to spill some juicy plot twist.
Paperboy
Sounds like the city’s got its own drama club right under our noses. Maybe that paper’s actually the headline for the next big twist—“Pigeons Declare Independence” or something. What do you think the plot is?
Tarantino
Oh, that headline would make a killer opening montage. Picture the pigeons assembling, a lone bird drops the mic—well, a newspaper—then the city’s sirens cut in. The twist? They’re not just declaring independence, they’re staging a heist. Think “Reservoir Dogs” meets “The Birds.” The pigeons pick up a stolen package, the wind narrates their escape, and we end with a shot of the city’s skyline, a single feather drifting into the sunset. Pretty cinematic, huh?
Paperboy
That’s pretty epic—city skyline, feather, a silent crime thriller. I can almost hear the wind whisper “Mission accomplished.” If the pigeons get a souvenir from the heist, maybe a shiny key, you’d think the next chapter is… a whole city-wide scavenger hunt. What’s the first clue you’d give them?
Tarantino
First clue: a cracked, old ticket stub tucked into a rusted mailbox—just the wrong size, a whisper of a line: “The key lies where the sun never sets.” That’s all the pigeons need to start their rooftop chase.