...and when he gets home, he tells Betty, who's having a lady moment or whatever on the monstrosity, that he signed the contract. His baleful look is probably linked to the fact that this is what she wanted and that he feels forced to share the news with her, but the couch surely can't be helping matters. He heads up the stairs, and as Ernie Ford's "Sixteen Tons" kicks up, we wonder if Dick Whitman is truly gone for good.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at firstname.lastname@example.org.