INT. HOWARD THEATRE—STAGE—PROSCENIUM BOX. DAY.

THE DANDRIDGE SISTERS’ sparkling performance is going unnoticed by the ROMANTIC COUPLE seated above the stage.  They are partially hidden from view in the dimness of the proscenium box.  Their arms are entwined in a passionate embrace and their lips are locked in a deep soulful kiss.

HAROLD NICHOLAS, 19, devastatingly handsome, debonair, rich and famous, comes up for air.  LOLA, the mid-20s, a stunning, light-skinned chorus girl, softly exhales and fans her hand in front of her face.

                         LOLA
                (breathless)
       Whew.  When you say hello to a girl, 
       Mr. Nicholas, you really say hello.

HAROLD gazes deeply into LOLA’s eyes and tenderly strokes a long strand of her hair with his fingertips.

                        HAROLD
                (flashing a megawatt 
                 smile)
       I'm happy to make your acquaintance.
 
                         LOLA
       I'll say… 

HAROLD, ever so slowly, lightly kisses LOLA on the ear and cheek and neck.  He is the master of seduction; a walking encyclopedia of the heat-seeking sensual buttons to press on the female anatomy.