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The scene: A bright but modestkitchen, through the back door of which, right, the noontimesunis streaming. At kitchen counter stands Louise, a fit senior citizen of indeterminate age wearing an apron over a warm-up suit. She is chopping healthy salad ingredients.
Enter Harry,her trim husband of the same vague senior age, an athletic towel draped over the back of his neck, happily aglow following some unspecified exercise regimen, through the back door.
Two-shot as Harry enters. Louise, cheerfully: "Welcome back. The mail came."
Harry wipes brow with towel as camera pans right, bringing kitchen table into view foreground. Harry: "Anything important?"
Cut to Louise, chopping: "A letter from your company about our retirement benefits."
Pan right to two-shot as Harry picks up letter from kitchen table. Cut to close up as he reads, his cheery expression changing first to incomprehension then to stunned worry: "Oh no, Louise."
Cut to two-shot. Louise: "What is it, Harry?"
Harry: "They're dropping our prescription coverage. They say it's because of what Congress has done to Medicare."
Cut to Louise, who has stopped chopping. Louise: "But Harry, I thought Congress was supposed to be helping people to get prescription drug coverage."









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