Let's see, what can we write into the script?

Rico says he's soon to shoot his video, Zone of Fire, about Bat Masterson's life. Other than Colt and some whiskey, he's not sure how to make this work, but Stephanie Clifford has the story in The New York Times:

Jordan Yospe had some notes on the script for The 28th Amendment, a thriller about a president and a rogue Special Forces agent on the run. Some of the White House scenes were not detailed enough, Mr. Yospe thought. And, he suggested, the heroes should stop for a snack while they were on the lam. "There’s no fast-food scene at all, but they have to eat,” he said.
Mr. Yospe was not a screenwriter, not a producer, not even a studio executive. No, Mr. Yospe was a lawyer with the firm Manatt, Phelps & Phillips. He was meeting with the writer-producer Roberto Orci, who co-wrote Transformers and Star Trek, to talk about how to include brands in The 28th Amendment.
In the past, studio executives made deals to include products in films. Now, with the help of people like Mr. Yospe, writers and producers themselves are cutting the deals, often before the movie is cast or the script is fully shaped, like The 28th Amendment, which Warner Brothers has agreed to distribute.
Now, having Campbell’s Soup or Chrysler associated with your project can be nearly as important to your pitch as signing Tom Cruise.
“The cost of movies is going up, and that really drives almost everything,” said Jack Epps, the co-writer of Top Gun. who is chairman of the writing division at the University of Southern California’s School of Cinematic Arts. “If you want to catch an executive’s attention right now, it’s not just selling the script, but you’re showing them how to create a brand.”
For the moviegoer, the shift will mean that advertising will become more integral to the movie. The change may not be obvious at first, but the devil is going to wear a lot more Prada. Manufacturers can stipulate that a clothing label must be tried on “in a positive manner”, or candy or hamburgers have to be eaten “judiciously”. A liquor company might sponsor a film only if there is no underage drinking or if the bar where its product is served is chic rather than seedy.
The more intricately a film involves a product, the more a brand pays for the appearance, offering fees ranging from a few hundred thousand dollars to several million a film. Writers say this helps them work in brands gracefully, rather than finding out later that studio executives have jammed in products at the last minute. “The pressure to integrate is always there,” Mr. Orci said. “It’s got to be done realistically.”
So writers are taking charge. In the 2009 film Up in the Air, Jason Reitman, the writer and director, wanted a real hotel brand for his frequent-flying character. As a Hilton HHonors Diamond V.I.P. member himself, Mr. Reitman urged the studio to make a deal with Hilton, which offered free lodging for the crew, sets, and promotions of the film on everything from key cards to in-room televisions to toll-free hold messages. Hilton worked with the production company to make sure everything from staff uniforms to hotel shuttles was portrayed correctly.
Deals like that mean lower-budget movies like Up in the Air can be made. They also mean movie viewers are increasingly paying to see more elaborately constructed advertising. That is one reason that screenwriters’ groups like the Writers Guild of America-West have objected to the practice, and some writers are worried about further product placement. “I think it’s lazy writing,” said Mary Gallagher, a screenwriter and instructor at New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts.
Product placement certainly is not new; the Lumière brothers agreed to include Lever Brothers’ Sunlight soap in the 1896 film Washing Day in Switzerland. But it has become far more aggressive on television, where Mr. Yospe cut his teeth, wedging brands into shows like Survivor and The Apprentice while he was general counsel at Mark Burnett Productions.
“People were blaming me personally for Apprentice, destroying television with so many brands,” he said. Where the original Apprentice contestants were selling lemonade, he said, by the second season, they were producing M&M’s candy. “You start running out of things creatively to do if you have no resources, no money,” he said.
While Mr. Yospe often writes dialogue, in the meeting with Mr. Orci, he was suggesting types of advertisers to include. (Mr. Orci’s father, Roberto Orci, who is president of the advertising agency Acento, and his staff joined the meeting to discuss how brands might help market the movie.) “You’ve written Gray has a Dodge Ram,” Mr. Yospe began, discussing a character. “Does it have to be a Dodge?’
“What’s wrong with Dodge? What have you got against Dodge?” said Mr. Orci, a soft-spoken 36-year-old.
The group began debating. In the script, Gray is described as “soldier-fit” but with “psychic damage”. Could someone like that drive, say, a Lincoln Navigator?
“That’s a mom’s car,” moaned Genesis Capunitan, an Acento executive.
Once Mr. Yospe gets clearance from the writer-producers, Mr. Orci and Alex Kurtzman, he will strike a few deals.
One is a straight payment, which usually runs in the mid-six to mid-seven figures, Mr. Yospe said. The second is a barter arrangement, where, say, a hotel puts up the cast and crew in exchange for being featured in the film. In the third kind, companies help market the film, as Hilton and American Airlines did for Up in the Air.
Mr. Yospe, who takes a percentage of the integration fees, said he was happy to work with studios, and he provided a direct path to writer-producers that a studio might not get. “Major talent like Bob Orci has it in his contract that he doesn’t have to do that sort of stuff,” Mr. Yospe said.
Indeed, Mr. Orci had mixed reactions to Mr. Yospe’s suggestions. Involving a fast-food restaurant was difficult; would a missing American president order a triple Whopper with cheese without attracting attention? One of Mr. Yospe’s ideas, though, he thought was strong.
On Page 16 of the draft, Lieutenant Colonel Madigan Gray, the Special Forces officer, flirts with his girlfriend, Anna, at the bar where she works. In the next scene, the two are in bed. “It’s love,” the script says. “This woman is Gray’s anchor to emotionality he keeps locked down.” Which is why he’s not thrilled to say, the script continues, “I’m going away again.”
Where the writers saw an anchor to emotionality, Mr. Yospe saw a selling opportunity. Could they add a brand-name trinket that Anna gives Gray as a good-luck charm, something like a bottle opener from her bar, he asked. They could charge even more if Gray used the keepsake later on. “That’s cool,” Mr. Orci said, nodding. “If they can have that trinket in bars with the movie’s name on it? That’s smooth.”
“And it adds a little emotion,” Mr. Yospe said.
“Look at you!” said Mr. Orci, chuckling.
“Look at me,” Mr. Yospe said.

Rico says that, if things go well, maybe he will try and hit up Colt for something with a comma in it...