Timmy, male, 5. Wide-eyed, innocent, full of energy.

Mom, female, 30s. Worn down by life in general.

Timmy   Mom!

Mom   (in the distance)   What?

Timmy   Mom, look at!

Mom   Look at what?

Timmy   A man! I think he’s pooping!

Mom   Timmy! Don’t look at him.

Timmy   But Mom!

Mom   (exasperated)  What?

Timmy   I think he’s having trouble pooping!

Mom   Timmy, that’s none of your business. Now come along.

Timmy   I can help him.

Timmy moves closer to the microphone.

Timmy   Hey pooping man! Are you having trouble pooping?

Mom   (rushing over)   Timmy, no, get away from there! Give the man his privacy!

Timmy   You can do it! I believe in you, pooping man!

Mom yanks away Timmy, who squeals and starts crying.

Mom   Timmy, you are in very big trouble, you hear me?   (to the microphone)   I’m very sorry, sir, my son doesn’t know how to behave himself in public.   (to Timmy)   Let’s go.

Mom pulls Timmy, still kicking and screaming, into the distance as inoffensive ambient music takes over.

26 more hours of inoffensive ambient music.