FADE IN.
EXT. EMPTY ROAD—NIGHT
DEATH
stalks along the side of the road, his thumb extended. ROBERT, a lost soul, pale, mindless, and
covered in chains, follows.
TOM
WICEZNIK, a college student, drives up, sees the two, and lets them into the
back seat.
INT. TOM’S CAR—NIGHT
TOM
Where you gentlemen headed?
DEATH
I believe there is a 7-11 a
few miles down the road.
TOM
Slurpee addict, eh?
DEATH
Quite. Also a fan of the Taquito.
TOM
You EAT there? Braver man than I.
DEATH
I shouldn’t be so quick to
stereotype their food; their quality has vastly improved over the past five
years. You now can enjoy a grilled
twelve inch Cuban club, for instance, for a mere two dollars and twenty three
cents, including tax. My appetite is
pleased, and my budget is maintained.
TOM
That, I can respect. What line of work you in?
A beat.
DEATH
Sales Acquisitions.
TOM
Wouldn’t think you’d need to
keep a budget with a job like that.
DEATH
I don’t get tipped often.
TOM
Gotcha. Me, I’m training under this veteran animator,
Rich Melville.
DEATH
Not any more, you’re not.
TOM
What’s that?
DEATH
Uhmm. I…heard there were a few promotions over at
Crescent Studios.
TOM
Oh, yeah? Wow. Hadn’t heard anything about that. Do you work near there? You look kinda
familiar.
DEATH
I visit from time to time.
TOM
Have we met? Sorry, only you look so familiar. Just can’t put my thumb on it.
DEATH
I get that a lot.
Tom
shrugs. They drive on in silence. Death notices as they pass an intersection.
DEATH (Cont’d)
Ermm. I’m fairly sure it was that left.
TOM
No…if I recall, it’s on Taft
and Colonial.
DEATH
Well, I…don’t know road
names, but I’m pretty sure it was that left.
TOM
Well, I DO know road names,
and I’m sticking with Taft and Colonial.
DEATH
Fine. …don’t listen to the frequent customer, use
your decade-old memory.
TOM
Look, I’m getting you there,
alright?
DEATH
It’s cool! It’s cool!
We straight! We
straight?
TOM
We straight.
DEATH
Aight. …remember that.
A beat.
TOM
Your buddy doesn’t have much
to say. Y’arright,
back there?
DEATH
Yes. He’s taken a vow of silence.
TOM
Hah. Doesn’t look like a traditional habit, he’s
wearing.
DEATH
It isn’t. Ah.
He’s not Christian. …he’s Nubian.
TOM
Nubian?
DEATH
Nubian.
A beat.
TOM
So does he worship Arensnuphis or Mandulis the Lower
Sun God?
DEATH
What?
TOM
Those were the most popular
Nubian deities.
DEATH
How should I know?
TOM
He’s your friend.
DEATH
Yes, but it’s not like I can
ask him, now is it? And anyway, weren’t
the Nubians polytheistic?
TOM
Sure, but I thought
polytheism just meant you had a choice of gods to worship.
DEATH
I guess it does…but…maybe he
worships both of them.
TOM
Maybe…that’s why I asked.
DEATH
Alright, then!
TOM
Okay.
The
car comes to the 7-11 parking lot.
TOM (Cont’d)
Aaaaaand here we are. Taft and Colonial.
Death
and Robert get out.
TOM (Cont’d)
Toldja so.
DEATH
Yes. You’ve bested me this day, Tom Wiceznik. It is a
defeat you shall remember, as honeyed nectar spills from your splitting
fingertips and scathing iron lines the raw flesh of your heart chambers, you
shall—oh, shit, where’s my pack?
TOM
Your what?
DEATH
My fanny pack, it had all my
money in it. Is it in the car?
He
motions to Robert.
DEATH (Cont’d)
Check in the car. Shit.
TOM
What’d it look like?
DEATH
It was lime green, it had a pony on the front…uhmm…
TOM
Is it possible you dropped
it?
DEATH
It’s a fanny pack. They don’t just fall off. They’ve got these…very efficient little clip
things with the prongs that snap on the sides…
TOM
Okay, look, pal—here. Here’s a five. Will that get you anywhere?
DEATH
Two Big Bites shall be
consumed in your honor this night.
TOM
You take it easy, man. Have a good night.
DEATH
You as well, Tom Wiceznik. You as well. Come,
Robert, while the Chili Dispenser is unclogged.
They
prowl to the 7-11.
FADE OUT.