(A rented DVD of the epic Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi plays on the 42-inch Emerson HDTV in the living room of the Daniels house. Only half-interested in the Second Generation Robotic Droid known as R2-D2, Cody lays on his belly on the carpeted floor of the den. His chin rests on his hands. His elbows are bent in front of him. His bare feet fully extend, and his toes point out.)

Sheriff Daniels: (Teasing) You look like a miniature, blond-headed, seal pup laying that way.

(He picks up a ball from off the coffee table.)

Sheriff Daniels: Let's see if we can balance this spherical object on the tip of your nose.

(He playfully attempts to place the ball on the Cody's nose. Cody barks like a seal. They laugh. Cody turns his head, cranes his neck, and studies the Sheriff who now leisurely relaxes in his brown, leather La-Z-Boy rocking recliner leafing through the evening edition of the Astatula Gazette.)

In bold black letters, the lead story's headline: "32nd Annual Astatula Fish Fry, Saturday, June 5th, at Sullivan Lake.

(The social gathering draws every citizen of the town for a day of celebration and live entertainment. Sheriff Daniels notices Cody looking at him. He puts his paper down.)

Sheriff Daniels: What? You don't like the movie?

(Never much of a movie buff, Cody wonders does he dare tell the world's biggest George Lucas fan he thinks the movie is kind of b-o-r-I-n-g?)

Cody: I'd rather go play with my Army men and create my own Star Wars adventures.

(Cody hopes the sheriff will allow him to.)

Sheriff Daniels: I just popped a DiGiorno in the oven. 400 degrees for 21 minutes. It's pepperoni. Your favorite. Add extra cheese of course. You can stand to watch that much more of this movie.

(Two days later the weather is balmy. With fishing poles in hand, Cody and Matt ride their bikes down the middle of Highway 62. Longhorns inhabit several pastures on the grassy knolls east of town. Big, yellow, McGuire Corporation trucks sit on the shoulder of the road. Sullivan Lake is their destination. The boys intend to fish for their suppers. The black-tailed prairie dog town locates off to their right. Several of the little furballs sit at tunnel openings alert to any dangers that come their way. The critters' light brown coats blend well with the dirt surrounding their mounds. High-pitched sounds are their means of communication. Fascinated by how the rodents wrestle, groom, and nuzzle each other, Cody and Matt watch their playful antics. Cody believes these are lessons the human species could well learn. The boys arrive at the lake.)

Matt: (Affably) Ready to get bashed, lunk head?

Cody: As ready as you are, tenderfoot.

(They cast their lines into the still water of the lake. Uttering deep, raspy, quacks, two mallards fly off from where they land. A Pepsi delivery truck passes by on the highway. Cody and Matt hear two loud noises off in the distance. The sounds startle Matt. He reels his latest cast in. The eighteen-wheeler's airbrakes sound as the driver stops the semi curbside in front of the Kwok Fui Lau Chinese Laundry.

Matt: (Inquisitive) What were those bangs?

(Cody removes the fish from off the hook it flops around on and looks at his worried buddy.)

Cody: It must have been some old truck backfiring going down Cassandra Boulevard.

(Cody's past in Palo Pinto tells him he knows better. Matt tosses the Bluegill he's just snagged into the Styrofoam cooler the boys brought along for their outing. Inside the small establishment, the Pepsi driver finds a grisly scene. Zhang Wei, the elderly proprietor of the business, and his concubine, Li Na Foo, have been shot in the back of their heads execution style. This becomes the third Mom and Pop store in the small town robbed in recent weeks. The body count from those attacks now totals four deceased.)

Matt: (Nervous) We have seven Bluegills. Do you think that's enough for the fish fry?

Cody Should be. Are we done fishing?

(Matt loops the shiny metal hook on the end of the line of his Flycaster fishing pole into an eyelet.)

Matt: I am. That was fun. Maybe we should go home?

(Cody is in agreement. He places the fish cooler in the basket attached to the handlebars on Matt's bike and mounts his Mongoose.)

Cody: (Good-naturedly) Make sure you clean them right.

(The boys sense they are being watched. Slowly, Cody surveys the woods surrounding Sullivan Lake. He sees nothing out of the ordinary. Still, he does not like the eerie foreboding that settles over him. His inherent sense of imperilment vibrates. Too many times in Palo Pinto he's felt it before. The premonition never wrong. Holding their fishing rods in their hands Cody and Matt pedal back toward town.)