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Maple Street, U.S.A., late summer. A tree-lined little world of front porch gliders, hopscotch, the laughter of children, and the bell of an ice cream vendor.
At the sound of the roar and the flash of light it will be precisely 6:43 P.M. on Maple Street. screeching roar from overhead. A flash of light plays on both their faces and then it moves down the street past lawns and porches and rooftops and then disappears.
Electricity's off. Phone won't work. Can't get a thing on the radio. My power motor won't move, won't work at all. Radio's gone dead I'll cut through the backyard...See if the power's still on Floral Street. I'll be right back.
Charlie, don't tell me what I can afford! And stop telling me who's dangerous and who isn't ad who's safe and who's a menace. And your with him too - all of you! You're standing here set to crucify - all set to find a scapegoat - all desperate to point some kind of finger at a neighbor
Charlie slowly raises the gun. As the figure slowly gets closer and closer he suddenly pulls the trigger. The sound of it explodes in the stillness.
The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudice - to only be found in the minds of men.
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