(Scene opens on Granddad doing some kind of a warrior ritual, Grandson enters and watches him intensely. Begins to mimic him until he is caught.)
Granddad: Hello Grandson. I didn’t hear you enter.
Grandson: Oh sorry Granddad. Umm what was that dance you were doing.
Granddad: Not a dance Grandson. Sacred ritual of the Zunani Spy Tribe.
Grandson: Waaaaaaaaa! Zunnini Spy-
Granddad: Zunani-
Grandson: Zumommy-
Granddad: ZUNANI-
Grandson: Zooo-naaaaaa-
Granddad: Niiii. Never mind. It’s sacred.
Grandson: Wow Granddad, I want learn. I want to be a Zunanamommy Spy Tribe Guy. Yeah, I want that. I want to be like you.
Granddad: Come my Grandson. There is much to teach you about the sacred tribe. It is not an easy task. Not every warrior passes the test.
Grandson: I’ll pass! Did you see my report card? All A’s except in Mrs. Bread’s speech class but that’s because she thinks that boys are “Smelly beasts.” So no boy got above a C in the class-
Granddad: You must see the path that you seek.
Grandson: Sure is it the path behind the school all the cool kids hide to smoke? Go 420!
Granddad: No. 420? Do you participate in…
Grandson: No. Unless you need something then we can talk.
Granddad: NO! A true spy would never participate in such things. Keep your body clear and your mind focused. I remember when I began to seek the path.
Grandson: I want to seek it too.
Granddad: Quite Grandson. Listen to the sound of the wind. (They close their eyes. The process has begun.)
Grandson: (Whispering) I don’t hear-
Granddad: Quiet. You must learn to listen.
Grandson: (Whispering) Ohh, okay. Listen. (Meditation begins)
Granddad: Lesson 1- Grab Your Gun
Guns: You think you know your way around a gun?
Granddad: Yes Sir!
Guns: You know nothing. Say my name.
Granddad: Sir?
Guns: My name you pieces of no gun training pansies.
Granddad: Guns sir!
Guns: What did you say?
Granddad: Mr. Guns Sir!
Guns: Damn right.