EXT. PARK, WASHINGTON, D.C. — NEXT DAY

Jack and Bobby sit on a bench, trying to look inconspicuous in their trench coats, fedoras, and sunglasses. They both hold newspapers: Bobby, a NY Times; Jack, a free XXX rag.

BOBBY: Wanna get caught? Spend your life in prison? We can’t be seen together- not at home, not the office. And we sure can’t talk about it on the phone.
JACK: We look ridiculous.
BOBBY: Speak for yourself, I look good.
JACK: So what do we got so far?
BOBBY: Obvious ones- poison, bomb, explosion of some kind.
JACK: How ‘bout a knife?
BOBBY: Tough to kill him.
JACK: Rope.
BOBBY: What, like the mafia?
JACK: Lead pipe.
BOBBY: Eh.
JACK: Candlestick.
BOBBY: (a beat) Are you naming Clue pieces?
JACK: You can learn a lot from a family board game.
BOBBY: Jesus, Jack.
JACK: Hitler played Risk. (Bobby sighs) From the suggested age of 8 and up.

Speaking of 8-year-olds, a tour guide leads a Cub Scout troop past them, lecturing on the wonders of democracy. Jack and Bobby wave to the boys. Thinking they’re pedophiles, the tour guide hurries the Scouts along.

BOBBY: You know the President, you been to his house. What does he like?
JACK: Fine china.
BOBBY: How does that possibly…
JACK: Princess Di commemorative plates. (big) Franklin Mint.
BOBBY: Something we can use, something-
JACK: He likes 20-year-old scotch.
BOBBY: Who doesn’t?
JACK: And 20-year-olds.
BOBBY: (perks up) Girls?
JACK: Preferably with the scotch.
BOBBY: You serious right now?
JACK: Oh, yeah. He makes Clinton look like a…

Wracks his brain, trying to say ‘teetotaler.’

JACK: … Tee-tote….
BOBBY: Jack, you beautiful bastard!
JACK: … Uh, tee-tot…
BOBBY: We got our in.
JACK: … Tater tot… (nailed it) Makes him look a tater tot.

A policeman swaggers past. Jack and Bobby sit upright and straighten their clothes. The cop eyes them suspiciously.

BOBBY: Okay, okay. Anything else you can think of?
JACK: He hates clowns.
BOBBY: Everyone hates clowns.
JACK: And babies.
BOBBY: Really?
JACK: And bunnies. And pandas. And peanuts. And-
BOBBY: Peanuts?

JACK: That’s what you took from that?
BOBBY: Wait- does he not like them or is he allergic?
JACK: What’s the difference?
BOBBY: Us sleeping on this bench or napping in the Lincoln bedroom.
JACK: I do like naps.
BOBBY: If he’s allergic…
JACK: (realizing) … We could frame Mr. Peanut.
BOBBY: Exactly.
JACK: So pretentious with his cane and monocle. Like to take a fork and-
BOBBY: (beaming) Think we found our weapon.
JACK: Fork?
BOBBY: Peanut!
JACK: Frankly, I prefer the candlestick.
BOBBY: Next time, awright?
JACK: Promise?
BOBBY: You have my word, Jack. Next time we plot to assassinate a public figure, we’ll use a candlestick.
JACK: Thank you.

A guy dressed exactly like Jack and Bobby strolls past; there’s a good chance he has nothing under his coat.
He nods hello to Jack and Bobby- after all, they’re his peers. Jack and Bobby realize they look like perverts.

JACK: We should probably…
BOBBY: Yeah.

They spring off the bench. O.s., boys SHRIEK as the guy in the trench coat exposes himself to the Cub Scouts.