"Then why are you sucking your thumb?  Let her in." Harshaw sat back. "Start," he said. "City montage dissolving into a medium two-shot, interior.  A cop is seated in a straight chair, no cap, collar open, face covered with sweat.  We see only the back of the other figure, which is depthed between us and the cop.  The figure raises a hand, bringing it back and almost out of the tank.  He slaps the cop with a heavy, meaty sound, dubbed." Harshaw glanced up and said, "We'll pick up from there." A ground car was rolling up the hill toward the house.