A waiting room. There are outdated posters on the wall. A man is reading a newspaper, another is staring out the window, a woman is trying to quiet down her kid.
On two of the chairs, which are surrounded on both sides by an empty chair, sit a man and a woman. They are holding hands. The woman is biting her nails as a nervous reflex. The man looks like he's been through a lot. He looks travelled. Yet there is a young spark in his eyes and a warm red glow in his rugged cheeks (author's note: I'm not gay). He has a grizzly beard.
A nurse calls the woman's name. She and the man walk into the doctor's waiting room. After a long five minutes, the doctor walks in.
"Hello, Mrs. Morgan."
They all exchange greetings and a minute or so of small talk.
"So what seems to be the problem?" the doctor inquires.
She explains to him how lately she's been feeling weird, going through mood swings, is tired, and missed her period.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Morgan!" the doctors exclaims.
"What?"
"Looks like you've got a little Captain in you."