FADE IN:
EXT. CITY STREET – EVENING
Skyscrapers loom. A massive screen broadcasts an ORDER ad—featuring the man, front and center, just like the bar commercial.
MAN (ON SCREEN)
Fake elixirs will not be tolerated! ORDER will eradicate them!
The camera pans down to reveal a Chinese restaurant sign: PENGU EXPRESS.
INT. PENGU EXPRESS
Under a table full of food, Zeke’s wrists are cuffed.
REDHEAD
Well, well. Zeke, was it?
A holographic screen floats above the table, showing Zeke’s ID. The projection originates from a bracelet-like device on Redhead’s wrist. On the screen, a dopey-looking mugshot of Zeke, name, ID number, etc.
ZEKE
Don’t you dare lay a finger on her.
REDHEAD
The girl? Nah, not interested. We finally got a lead on the gang distributing fake elixirs.
Redhead picks up a case from Zeke’s belongings and pulls out an ampoule.
REDHEAD (CONT’D)
Impressive work. Looks legit.
He snaps it open with one hand and downs it.
ZEKE
Hey!!
REDHEAD
Tastes kinda cheap, though.
ZEKE
That’s evidence!
REDHEAD
You’re not eating? Might be your last free meal.
ZEKE
How am I supposed to—
He raises his cuffed hands. They dissolve into static and vanish.
ZEKE (CONT’D)
...!?
Zeke flexes his freed hands, unsure.
CLUNK—Redhead slides Zeke’s confiscated gun back toward Zeke.
REDHEAD
Here ya go. You can shoot me and run, if you want.
He casually takes a bite of food. Zeke hesitates, eyeing the gun on the table.
ZEKE
You... really with ORDER? You sure don’t act like it.
WHOOSH—a glowing ID hologram bursts to life, hovering in the air. It reads: “Nigel, Enforcement Officer, Division 13 – ORDER.” His ridiculous mugshot grins beside the official text.
Redhead—Nigel points at Zeke with his chopsticks.
NIGEL
Division 13. That’s me. I’m here to make you an offer.
ZEKE
Division what? That’s not even real. You mean that crap about secret assassins and alien collaborators? You’re telling me that’s actually--
NIGEL
(interrupt)
Because ‘13’ is unlucky? That’s just urban legends. Kids eat that stuff up, right?
Zeke grimaces. He's clearly had enough of this clown.
NIGEL (CONT’D)
Truth is, we’re a dumping ground. So technically... you’re not wrong.
He lights a cigarette with a lazy flick, smoke curling between them.
NIGEL (CONT’D)
Which brings me to my point. I’m broke. This job pays crap. So why not use my position while it still counts?
ZEKE
Typical ORDER scumbag...
NIGEL
Thanks. So, let’s trade. Your fake elixir... for a real one.
He fidgets with the ampoule he drank earlier.
ZEKE
What the hell’s the point of that?
NIGEL
Just hear me out.
Nigel wiggles his index finger.
EXT. ROADSIDE - NIGHT
Photo by Jamie Street on Unsplash
A pale mint-green classic car is parked by the curb. Zeke opens the passenger door with a metallic clunk.
NIGEL
Hey hey! Passenger seat’s off-limits!
Nigel is slipping into the driver’s seat. Zeke stops, annoyed.
ZEKE
Where the hell am I supposed to sit!?
Nigel calmly stretches out a seatbelt with one hand and gestures behind him with the other.
NIGEL
Back there.
The back seat is a mess, piled high with junk and covered with a blanket.
ZEKE
...
CUT TO:
A shot of the car’s tires in motion.
INT. HIGHWAY - INSIDE THE CAR - NIGHT
Zeke is squeezed into one end of the back seat, clearly miserable.
ZEKE (V.O.)
This guy’s gotta be a total virgin!!
NIGEL
Hey, that negotiation went smoother than I expected.
Nigel grins smugly.
A notification buzzes on Zeke’s wrist device. He checks it and sighs.
ZEKE
Boss is real eager to make the deal.
NIGEL
Aw, look at you—moving up in the world. Maybe the gang’ll finally stop calling you the coffee boy.
Zeke suddenly pulls a gun and presses it to the back of NIGEL’s head.
ZEKE
You wanna see your brains on the windshield?
NIGEL
Whoa there, scary! Don’t make me craaash~
Nigel smoothly shifts back into a serious tone, looking at Zeke through the mirror.
NIGEL (CONT’D)
So why’re you even in this gang?
ZEKE
For the money. What else?
NIGEL
You’re young. Could’ve had a normal job, y’know.
Zeke clenches his fists in his lap.
ZEKE
Even if you play it straight... you still get screwed. I used to give a damn. Had people to protect...Now, it’s just me.
Zeke stares out the window. His glasses obscure his expression.
NIGEL
Damn. That’s rough.
Nigel lights a cigarette.
NIGEL (CONT’D)
Hey, fair. I mean, no one wants life advice from a guy making his sleazebag debut tonight.
Smoke drifts out the window as the car cruises down the highway.
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