Excerpt:
The sun rises over an early morning in Orlando, Florida. All is quiet along the luxurious street lined with opulent homes. A sleek black BMW glides up to the largest home on the block. The driver steps out from the car; taking a few bags from the backseat, the owner walks past a line of bushes.
Steve is hiding in the same type foliage across the street from the home. He is looking through a telescope made specifically as an iPhone 6 attachment. He comes up from the bushes like submarine, scanning the area. Steve makes notes in his iPhone 6’s notepad app, as he watches the wealthy man head toward the mansion entrance.
The wealthy homeowner senses something as he passes, but continues toward his front door, acting as though nothing is wrong. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Steve standing behind the well-groomed bushes with the telescope attached to the iPhone 6 attached to Steve’s face, following him slowly as he moves toward the mansion’s entrance.
For a moment, Steve – wearing gold-color sports clothes and a Boston Red Sox hat – thinks he has been spotted, but breathes a small sigh of relief as the wealthy homeowner continues toward the mansion. He makes a few more notes in his iPhone 6’s notepad app before stretching his long twenty-something frame.
Unfortunately, for Steve, he really sucks at spying on people. When the wealthy homeowner slash driver of the BMW reaches the mansion’s entrance and opens the front door, he turns to see Steve head-on, standing in his gold-color sports clothes and Boston Red Sox hat.
The wealthy homeowner slash driver WHISTLES, sharp and loud. A large and fit German shepherd bolts from the mansion doorway, heading straight for the well-groomed bushes and Steve’s not-so-well-groomed stakeout disguise.
Not waiting to see the results, the wealthy man shouts, “Get ‘em, King!” pointing at the telescope attached to the iPhone 6, which is attached to Steve’s face.
The dog locking in on his target, charges toward Steve – telescope still in hand, and unaware of what has just happened. Steve sees something fuzzy in his telescope. It is moving fast and furiously, zooming out to clear up the picture, he sees the German Sheppard. Steve jumps out from the bushes, turns, and runs for his life.
“Good dog,” yells Steve. “Good dog, heel, roll over, play dead!”
King grabs the telescope and tears it to shreds. Luckily, Steve already removed the telescope from his face and most importantly the iPhone 6. Not paying attention to where he is going, Steve steps backward into a pile of dog poop. He begins to hop around trying to find something, anything to wipe the poop from the bottom of his shoe.
In the meantime, King is using the telescope as a chew toy. As King is distracted with the telescope – slash chew toy – Steve takes the opportunity to put some well-needed distance between himself and King. He begins to run again, falling head first into a bunch of trashcans. He tumbles to the ground.
Remembering that he is supposed to be chasing Steve, King finishes with the telescope, and resumes the chase.
Steve is now in a full-on Usain Bolt-Donovan Bailey, final stretch of long-distance-running-Olympic sprint. He is covered in trash and, again, running for his life. Despite King being a well-trained canine, the sudden sight – not so much the smell though – of leftover food is just too much for him. As King continues to chase Steve, he eats the trash falling from Steve’s body.
More than enough food has fallen from Steve’s body (a result of the undesired tryst with the trashcan). Overcome with hunger from chasing Steve, King stops and settles into a feast along the curb. Steve, unaware that the dog has stopped, keeps running on down the street.
Steve’s kitchen is simple not very clean, and has dirty dishes piled everywhere. Standing at the sink, Steve finishes washing off the bottom of his left shoe, setting the shoe in the dish tray as if it were a plate or glass waiting to dry. Walking with a slight limp, Steve makes his way over to the couch in his small living room. The room in question is a small, tight place, with very few pieces of furniture. An Apple laptop sits on a roll-top desk. The laptop keyboard is barely visible, and a free space to sit on any of the furniture is non- existent — papers and books are strewn everywhere.
The doorbell rings before Steve can sit down.
Steve is not impressed. He looks at the door begrudgingly. Reluctantly, he straightens up his body. Limping, slightly, Steve crosses the living room to the front door. He opens the door.
