A group of travelers find themselves stranded on top of an active volcano. Many paths lead down. All end in a sheer drop to rocks below. All but one. Unfortunately, this path is shrouded in fog.
Tom: I’m a realist. We’re going to die up here. We can’t go back. We can’t go forward. I’ve got a bottle of good Scotch and I intend to enjoy it while I can. Who’d like a drop?
Dick: If you think about it, the problem isn’t the volcano. The problem is desire itself, the desire to live. I need to kill that desire. Only then will I find inner peace. Please excuse me while I empty my mind and meditate. I am the mountain. The mountain is I…
Harry: I’m going to try the path that’s covered in fog. It might lead out of here. It might not. The only thing I know for sure is that all the other paths lead nowhere.
Tom: You think there’s hope, eh? You’re willing to risk that path? Sounds like wasted effort to me. Where’s the evidence it’s better than staying right where you are? All I can see is fog, or are you the sort who believes in the Tooth Fairy! But this Scotch is real. Taste it for yourself. Enjoy it while you can. You only live once.
Dick: Life is illusion. All is illusion. Stay here and meditate with me. Ommm. Barley rum…
Harry: That Scotch does look good… Perhaps a wee dram…?
