Scene: The PFJ cave. Reg, Judith, and Stan (Loretta) are mid-argument over their latest slogan. Suddenly, the sound of furious muttering echoes from the entrance. Enter Frank Costanza, red-faced and gesticulating wildly, dressed in an ill-fitting toga.
Frank: “Alright, who’s in charge here? I’ve been pacing around for hours looking for this place. Do you people not believe in signs? Huh? A simple ‘Revolution this way’ would’ve done the trick!”
Reg: (Frowning) “And who the bloody hell are you?”
Frank: “Who am I? Who am I?! I’m Frank Costanza! And I’ve got a bone to pick with the Romans! They confiscated my Festivus pole! It’s aluminium—it’s lightweight, high strength, and perfectly balanced! Now they’ve got it sitting in some centurion’s office as a coat rack!”
Judith: (Trying to be diplomatic) “Uh, welcome, Frank. We share your anger at the Romans, but this is a serious resistance movement.”
Frank: (Slamming his hand on a nearby table) “Serious? Don’t talk to me about serious! I once protested a bagel strike by pelting the owner with his own dough! You don’t know serious until you’ve marched through Queens in the middle of February with frozen cream cheese in your hair!”
Stan/Loretta: (Leaning in) “You’re a man of conviction. What’s your vision for defeating the Romans?”
Frank: “Glad you asked, Stan. Here’s the plan: We lure them in with free latkes. Once they’re distracted, bam! We hit ‘em with a sneak attack. I call it the ‘Latke Blitzkrieg!’”
Reg: (Incredulous) “Latkes? That’s your plan? What about strategy, infrastructure, or... or even logic?!”
Frank: “Logic?! You think I came here for logic? I came here because I’ve had it with these Romans! First, it’s the Festivus pole. Next, they’ll be taking my lawn furniture! Well, not on my watch, pal. Not. On. My. Watch.”
Judith: (Hesitant) “You seem... passionate. But how do you feel about leafleting? Spreading awareness about the cause?”
Frank: (Snapping) “Leaflets?! You want to fight the greatest empire the world has ever seen with leaflets? Let me tell you something about leaflets, sweetheart: I handed out leaflets once for my cousin Morty’s mattress shop. You know what happened? Not one mattress sold! And Morty ended up living in my basement for three years! No leaflets!”
Reg: “Well, what do you suggest, then?”
Frank: “What do I suggest? I suggest we hit them where it hurts—the aqueducts! Take out the water, and those toga-wearing pretty boys are toast. Toast, I tell you!”
Stan/Loretta: “That’s... not the worst idea I’ve heard today.”
Reg: (Throws up his hands) “Oh, for the love of... No, we’re not destroying the aqueducts! They’re the only thing holding this civilisation together!”
Frank: (Pointing aggressively) “That’s your problem right there! You’re too soft. If I ran this resistance, we’d be knee-deep in Roman rubble by now. You gotta be ruthless! Like me at the Korean barbecue buffet—I took down three plates of short ribs before they even knew what hit ‘em!”
Judith: (Whispering to Reg) “I think he might actually scare the Romans off.”
Reg: (Massaging his temples) “Fine, Frank. You want in? You’re in. But no blitzkriegs, no aqueduct sabotage, and for the love of all that’s holy, no Festivus poles!”
Frank: “I’ll do it my way, Reg. And if the Romans want a war, I’ve got two words for ‘em: Serenity now!”
Stan/Loretta: “That’s... technically three words.”
Frank: (Glaring) “Don’t start with me, Loretta!”
Cue Frank storming off to "organise" his first raid, likely involving an ill-advised confrontation with Roman soldiers and an angry argument over centurion helmet designs.
