You are on page 1of 7

INT. TACO BELL - DAY A short, weird-looking girls enters the line.

She makes eye contact with the people ahead of her. Her eyes go to the ground, ashamed. The line moves. The short, weird-looking girl reaches the counter. The cashier gives her a double head nod/chin lift/brow raise as though he recognizes her. ANNA, 15, knotty hair, shy, withdrawn. ANNA Bean burrito kid’s meal. No onions. With nachos instead of Cinnamon Twists. She hands the cashier 3 dollars and 45 cents, grabs her cup and walks over to the drink dispenser. ANNA (CONT’D) (softly) Pepsi or Mountain dew? Hmmmm. Dr Pepper The kid’s meal is sitting on a tray on top of the counter. Anna grabs it and inspects. Burrito. Check. Nachos. Check. Toy. Check. Nachos. Check. It’s all there. She then grabs several napkins, 7 to be exact. She scans over the booths looking for the cleanest one. ANNA (CONT’D) (softly) Yeah! She’s looking at the booth in the back corner. It has only a few crumbs and drink rings left from earlier cups. CUT TO: INT. BOOTH - DAY Anna takes a sip of her drink. ANNA (softly) Good choice.

2. She takes one of her napkins, wipes the perspiration off the outside of her drink and uses it to soak up the liquids on the table. She takes another napkin and brushes away the crumbs. She moves her drink to the right side of her tray, her nachos to the left and her burrito to the front and center. The toy is left where it lay on the tray. Anna unwraps her burrito from the paper and then proceeds to squeeze out most of its entrails. Ouch. SMALL VOICE

Anna looks up confused. She continues. SMALL VOICE (CONT’D) Yo dawg, why you be squeezin fo? ANNA (to herself, happily) It tastes better this way! I can inspect and create the proper ratio of tortilla to bean for an enhanced burrito eating experience. She continues. ANNA (CONT’D) (disgustedly) Ewwwww... In the mess of beans and melted cheese lays an onion. Anna quickly rewraps the burrito back in the paper and pushes it to the side. Her face, disgusted. ANNA (CONT’D) They no I don’t like onions... I said no onions. She sighs and holds her heavy head in dismay. The burrito begins to rustle inside the wrapper. Anna’s eyes are drawn towards it. ANNA (CONT’D) (under her breath) What is happening? She helps to open the wrapper, scared yet intrigued. Nothing.

3. SMALL VOICE Why don’t you like me? The girl looks bewildered. burrito. She looks around, then at the

SMALL VOICE (CONT’D) (demandingly) Yo dawg, I said why don’t you like me? Anna’s eyes open wide. ANNA (under her breath)


SMALL VOICE (irritated) Whatchu be doggin’ me fo?! Anna, still in shock, stares at the little onion talking in front of her. ONION, 3 hours, little, spunky, layered, part gangster. ONION (irritated) Just answer my question... beeechh. Oh my. ANNA

Anna picks up the onion by its thin outer layer, invading Onion’s bubble. ONION Hey yo Girl! Put me down! Now! Anna stares in shock. ANNA (softly) I’m sorry? Best be. Excuse me? Ya heard. ONION ANNA ONION

4. Anna zones out, her eyes go blank. She is lost in her thoughts. ANNA (softly, to herself) This isn’t happening. You’re hallucinating again Anna. ONION Damn straight. Bitch. This shit’s for real. Now answer the question. Anna looks around, then back at the onion. ANNA (whispers) Well... You smell and you make my breath smell too. You’re crunchy and hard-ONION Naw, that shit’s bull. Yo breath be rank cuz you no brush yo teeths good nuf. My crunchy and hardness adds texture. Love it. ANNA You make me cry and you give me gas. It’s really gross. ONION You don’t even know. Onion rubs his right hand over his eyes, forcing his tears back. ONION (CONT’D) You make me cry. I just want to be liked. I just want to be accepted. Why you doggin me fo? Anna tries to ignore. She begins to open her cheese sauce.

Tears come gushing out of onions eyes, like a river breaking a dam. ONION (CONT’D) (undistinguishable muttering) Anna still ignoring, grabs a chip, dips it in the cheese sauce twice, wipes it against the rim of the plastic container. She takes a bite.

5. ONION (CONT’D) You for serious? You dat cold, woman?! Onion wipes away his tears with a piece of the burrito wrapper that he tore off. ONION (CONT’D) You know what, forget chu. Ya not worth my tears. I don’t need chu. People like me! They like me. Yo, you’ve seen Shrek, yea? Well, I’ve got layaz girl. Whatchu got? Anna looks down. She holds her head with both hands, fingers tangled in hair. Her face goes blank. She zones out again, lost in her thoughts. ANNA I, I-I, I don’t know. She looks at the onion, still holding her head with both hands, fingers tangled in hair. ANNA (CONT’D) Nothing really. I don’t have anything. Her face grows longer. She becomes overwhelmed with pity and self doubt that she begins to cry. ONION (Politely) Please Don't cry. Onion sweetly takes a few steps towards her. concerned. ONION (CONT’D) Don’t cry. I’m sorry. I just, I just wanted you to like me. He takes one more step forward. ONION (CONT’D) I’m sure you have something going on for you. Anna breaks down, sobbing. ANNA No, I don’t. You were right. I have nothing. Nothing. Except for all these zits. And these braces! (MORE) His face,

6. ANNA (CONT'D) I’m ugly. I’m stupid. I have no friends. Who would even want to be my friend? I have nothing. ONION I’ll be your friend. Here, hold my hand. Onion reaches his hand out to her. Anna retracts.

ANNA Eww, gross. There’s no way I’m ever touching you’re stinky, slimy, oniony hand. ONION Hold my hand woman! Do you want a friend or not?! Anna disgustedly turns her face away, and reluctantly glides her hand over, ever so slightly. Onion walks near her pale, boney hand. Anna quickly snatches her hand away. She glides her hand over again and then snatches it away. ANNA No. I can’t do it. You’re just too gross. ONION I’m too gross?! You da ugly bitch wit them zits and braces. ANNA You’re right. She glides her hand over one final time. Onion jumps on her hand. It begins to shake uncontrollably. He grabs hold of her thumb, riding it like a mechanical bull. ANNA (CONT’D) Eww. Germs. Eww. Eww. Anna shakes her hand forcefully, disgustedly. Onion loses grip. He flies half way across the table. ONION I can’t believe you. No, I can’t believe myself. I can’t believe I ever wanted you to like me. You’re picky and mean. Look at you. (MORE)

7. ONION (CONT'D) You’re sitting alone. Nobody likes you. I’m liked. Tomato and I, we make a great pair. We’re so great. We make a Fiesta out of Salsa. But you! Ya’ll got issues. Anna looks down again, resuming her prior position: hands holding head, fingers tangled in hair. She zones out, lost in thoughts. She cries. Onion turns and walks away. ONION (CONT’D) Bitch be crazy. Anna’s crying grows heavier. FADE TO BLACK.