Jason Eggemyer, 40-ish, dedicated smoker, gourmand, emerges from the truck and lights one.
Jason: This is where we saw a guy come out with an elk that one time.
Dave Zoby, fit, 40-ish, brutally handsome, is already disgusted with this outing.
Dave: When was that?
Jason: Eight years ago. We were just getting out to hunt and this guy was coming back with one.
Dave: What time of day?
Jason: It was around noon. We drank a bunch that night and I wasn't feeling good. But I swear, this place is full of elk.
EXT. Woods in Wyoming. The men are clothed, head to toe, in mismatching camo. In the near distance you can hear the hum of ATVs.
Jason: I think I just saw a deer or something.
Dave: (irritated) Where?
Jason: Forty yards up the trail. It was an elk.
Dave: Bullshit. If an elk ran by I'd hear it.
Jason: It was two elk, a calf and a cow. Or maybe a deer running with an elk. Do they do that?
EXT. Nightfall, campsite. Jason is on his fifth beer. Dave is ready to go home. Quiet.
Jason: Well at least I saw something. Otherwise this hunt was a waste of time. But I saw them, I'm pretty sure.
Dave says nothing.
Jason: Hey we ought to buy a wall tent for next year when we come back.
Jason lights a cigarette and stumbles to the cooler for another beer. Somewhere nearby a hunter scolds his dog.