It will make sense when you see Scott scripting a mini-Reagan to burst out of Gorbachev’s stomach and go rampaging through a dark, bleak Moscow (made so by draconian and ruthless Reagan foreign policy initiatives).

That sounds remarkably tedious.  I don’t mean that the meeting wasn’t crucial; it probably was.  But, like other important meetings, I doubt it will make, shall we say, compelling viewing.

(For reference, I’d feel precisely the same way about a movie covering the Casablanca (1943), Yalta (1945), or Key West (1947) conferences, all of which were also critically important.)

Hey, it could’a’ been Roberto Rodriguez.

But I’d go to see the Rodriguez one! Ronnie pulling an M-16 out of a guitar case in 3-D would be awesome!

I can see it now. Ronnie stares across an ornate conference table. It’s obvious that Gorby isn’t telling him what he wants to hear. Ronnie shakes his head with some disappointment.

“Well, I wanted to do this easy. I really did. But you...you had to do it the hard way.”

At that moment, Gorby’s two bodyguards pull guns and start firing while Ronnie dives under the table. With a feat of superhuman strength, Ronnie topples the table, staying low behind the thick, polished wood. Gorby scrambles for safety. Bullets chew into the wood sending splinters flying like snow through the air while Ronnie pops open the guitar case that he had brought into the room.

Grabbing a pair of 1911’s (he is a conservative, after all) from the case, he pops up with the weapons trained unerringly on the guards who had been moving around the table, coming closer to the edges. Ronnie dives over the table while shooting a flurry of bullets into both of the bodyguards--their bodies jerk from the multiple impacts, their guns firing in random directions as they die in an impressively dramatic fashion. Or something like that.

Gorby, seeing Reagan flying toward him, tries to run. Ronnie’s guns line up on Gorby’s back. Click click--Ronnie scowls as he drops the twin Colts and scrambles for another weapon.

But it’s too late. Gorbachev has slipped through a door and into the night.

That’d be cool. I’m pretty sure that Ronnie would get him in the end--unless Gorby turns out to secretly be a vampire, in which case the entire diplomatic mission will become some terrifyingly bad slasher flick and I’ll want to walk out of the theater.

...actually, this could turn out pretty good.

We’ve had surfer vampires, fast zombys, basketball-playing werewolves...but have we ever had Communist/Soviet zombys?  I don’t think so.  Imagine the terror!

Just think of them shambling toward you, the glazed look in their eyes, chanting, “...Let me tell you about how Ivan and Natalya did last night on The People’s Idol...”
Chilling, I tell you.

I think I’ve been insulted, but I’m so caught up in the imagery that I’m not sure that I care.

(raspy voice-over): “Ronald Reagan has just outlawed zombies… Bombing begins… in five minutes.”

I was totally trying to figure out how to work that into my story.

Damn you.

Easy. The KGB are zombies.

The direction that this thread has taken pleases me immensely.

Gah. It should be called From Dusk Til Red Dawn, of course.  *Slaps forehead*

Nah, it should be called Free Trade Runner, with the plot involving Gorby, the last surviving member of his delegation to Iceland, meeting with Reagan on a rainy rooftop.

From Dusk Til Red Dawn…
!
“Wolverines for the Gipper!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”