INT. MOONSHINE TIMES – DAY
Ten Years Later...

Cut in to a desk, in the office of someone who's clearly the boss. A bird-shaped knick-knack tips its head up and down, over and over, dipping its beak in a small dish of water. Sitting in front of that desk is a late teenaged Gavrial, in a bigger, better-fitting dress shirt, with black pants, shoes, and a matching tie. The tie itself is striped blue and white diagonally. He watches the bird's never-ending motion, in boredom & quiet awe. Behind him, the closed door opens for a moment, letting in his father, Aditya. Aditya is older too, dressed in a dark brown suit jacket with matching tie, his hair now white as clouds. He doesn't sit down just yet – first, he puts a record on. Hindi singing, in degraded and high-pitched trills, fills the room.

Aditya
You like?

Gavrial
No, abiji. I have never liked.

Aditya
(Dancing in place.) Why not? It's a love song! Your mother loves this. Girls will like it, too.

Gavrial
I don't know any girls, or what the lyrics mean. And I never learned Hindi.

The music continues to play.

Aditya
You didn't teach yourself, is what you mean.

Gavrial
Aarav learned. Where's he?

Aditya
In college. He's still trying, unlike you – which is why you're here. I hate to talk about you this way, but you skipped school for half a day every day-

Gavrial
Because my classes were over, and my homework was done. I graduated with more credits than I needed, and I went back to study for computer development. But I can't afford to go, even with loans. That, and the only lab in the province said they don't have space for more than one technician.

Aditya
(Disinterested.) Really, why not?

Gavrial
(Struggling to explain it.) Well, apparently the computer fills up the whole... room, so...

REEL CHANGE: INT. COMPUTER LAB

Scientists in white coats reed mile-long printouts from a room-sized computer, which runs along the walls in cabinets with spinning reels of tape. Ragged, jagged noises emanate from it, and a janitor sweeps up the rolls of paper off the floor.

REEL RETURN

Aditya
(Refusing to understand.) I don't know anything about that stuff.

Gavrial
(Giving up.) Yeah, I didn't think you would.

Aditya
Well, we already sent Aarav to school, so we couldn't afford to send you. I'm sorry, that's just how it is.

Gavrial
I'm aware.

Aditya
Hey, now, don't sass me. You still have to be interviewed by me, don't think you've got the job just yet.

Gavrial
(Pointing at the record player.) Can you just-

Aditya
(Mildly annoyed.) Fine.

Aditya halts the record, and sits down. He pulls some stray papers together, and hits the bottom edges on his desk until they're straight.

Aditya
So, what makes you qualified to work here?

Gavrial
Nepotism.

Aditya
Come again?

Gavrial
You've already taught me everything you know, grandpa. You practically raised me for this.

Aditya
Perhaps. But I worry. Your position will be as an interviewer, and in writing articles. Can you assure me you'll do just that?

Gavrial
Why wouldn't I?

Aditya
Because most days, you seem to think you're a judge, not a reporter. I hear you judging people's character, jumping to conclusions about what they deserve. You find losers and you put them on pedestals, and you speak ill of people who surpass you in life. That is bias, and we don't need that here.

Gavrial
Even in journalism, we still tell people who the good guys and bad guys are! I just prefer to stand up for the underdog.

Aditya
We report the FACTS. If the facts are compelling, or incriminating, that is up to the readers! But not to us.

Gavrial
Alright, you got it. Just the facts, no editorials. Totally impartial, no matter what.

Aditya looks his son over for a tense moment. Then, he extends his hand. Gavrial shakes it.

Aditya
Welcome to Moonshine Times, Gavrial.

Gavrial
Please, grandpa. Call me Gavri. I don't wanna sound like a nerd.

Aditya
(Looking back down at his papers.) Then you should have gone to work somewhere else. Can you grab me a coffee from the break room? And get one for each of my writers. For one month, all of them are your boss, as well as I.

Gavri
Got it.

Aditya
Anyway, I'll have mine black with two sugars-

Quick cut to Gavri pouring coffee, then another quick cut for each ceramic mug placed on each desk, with varying solutions of coffee, milk, and sugar inside. Cut to Gavri pouring one that's just black, and drinking it, satisfied. Next to him, Torrin Cortez walks up and leans on the counter, pouring himself the pot's last cup, also black. Just like his curly hair, which droops over one eye. It gives him an air of mystique. His plaid red shirt, on the other hand, makes him look approachable. Gavri blushes slightly, realizing he's eyeing up his coworker.

Torrin
Black, huh? Cool.

Gavri
Cheers.

The two clink mugs, in close-up. Cut to Torrin hard at work at his cubicle, drawing at an inclined art desk. Gavri walks by.

Gavri
Cartoons? For the paper?

Torrin
Yep. That's my job.

Gavri
Cool.

Gavri and Torrin each sip from their mugs.

Torrin
Dunno what to write for this one.

Torrin rolls back in his chair to show Gavri his progress. It's a lady dressed as a clown, with big funny breasts, holding a helium balloon.

Gavri
This is for the paper?

Torrin
Nah, just for fun.

Gavrial takes a long look at it, with a 'hmmm.'

Gavri
How about: "No needles, please – two of these things could pop!"

Torrin squints, then lets out a soft chuckle.

Torrin
That's hilarious. Good to see you've still got that sense of humor.

Gavri
(Blushing.) Heh. You're still the better illustrator.

Aditya
(Off-screen.) Gavri! Coffee!

Gavri turns to look. Cut to a repetition of the earlier sequence of four coffee mugs set down, followed immediately by two black-filled mugs clinking. Cut again to Torrin's cubicle. He rolls back in his chair, showing a new drawing: a bunch of men in suits with briefcases, riding a ferris wheel. One of them has an empty speech bubble.

Gavri
"At this rate, I'll never get to work."

Torrin
(Sort of frowning.) That's weak.

Gavri
(Worried.) No good?

Torrin
(Sort of grinning.) No, it's perfect. They never print anything I think is funny.

Aditya
(Off-screen.) Coffee time!

Another four mugs, but this time, Gavri finds himself clinking his mug against a beer stein. Thurop "Turp" Bjerke is standing next to him, strong and drunk in a tee-shirt and pleated jacket. His blond ponytail hangs barely past his ears. In his distinctive British accent, he lets out a breath of satisfaction. (Trust me, you can hear it.) He scratches his patchy beard.

Thurop
Top o' the mornin', little guv.

Gavri
(Derisively.) What are you doing here, Thurop?

Thurop
(Sips his beer.) Hey, we talked about this! It's TURP now, like terpentine. That's what they called me at my last painting job.

Gavri
Because you kept spilling it.

Turp
Still got paid.

Gavri
(Sipping coffee.) Right. So why are you here?

Turp
Thought I'd see my roomie at work, make sure it's all on the uh...

Turp looks around, and grabs a half-bag of coffee grounds, and puts it in his jacket pocket.

Turp
...up and up, I suppose. Can't have you slacking on rent.

Gavri
What about your job?

Turp
Ah, yes. The rails. My hammer called in sick, the nails too.

Gavri
That's funny. Didn't they teach you how to cure that in engineering?

Turp
I dropped out of that course, professor said I was terrible at math. I had to agree, because my reasons to attend just weren't adding up.

Gavri
Clever, but not very smart. That job could have kept you off the railroad.

Turp
Where would I get my kicks? I'm like a God to my fellow men, out there.

REEL CHANGE: EXT. TRAIN TRACKS – DAY

In 1930's sepia film, a much taller, more muscular and shirtless Turp hammers rail spikes into track with the mighty hammer Mjolnir. The vaudeville piano is synchronized to his rhythm. Lightning sparks with every devastating strike. All of the other workers standing on the tracks are electrocuted, and fall over dead.

REEL RETURN

Gavri
(Straight-faced.) Yeah, I can imagine.

Turp
(Offended by his own conclusion.) Hey now, I'm not daft, I'll have you know! Just because I was held back a year doesn't mean anything.

Torrin
(From his desk.) I was held back a year too!

Turp
(Calling over to him.) Really? What for?

Torrin passes through with an empty mug, to go get himself a coffee refill.

Torrin
Delinquency, actually. They made me bag the lunchroom trash, too.

Turp
(Delighted.) Hah! A card of my own kind.

Gavri
You weren't a delinquent, you just didn't finish your homework on time.

Turp
Same as.

Gavri
(Impatient.) I've gotta get back to work, Turp.

Turp
What do you do here, then?

Gavri
We've mostly been doing cartoons today.

Turp
OH, I love cartoons! I can draw those too, y'know. I'm good at it. Have you got a pen?

Gavri rolls his eyes and hands Turp a pen from his shirt pocket. Turp scribbles on a napkin off the counter, and produces a lazy scribble of a superhero, short and chubby with underpants on his head, fighting an evil, scowling potato. He's just sort of punching it, and a piece of its body is split off in puffs.

Turp
He says, "YOU'RE MASHED NOW!" Get it?

Gavri
(Non-plussed.) Yeah, I get it.

Turp
Show this to your man over there, he'll laugh his ass off, I bet.

Gavri
Look, I can't have you showing up at my job. Just like I don't go to yours-

Turp
Well of course you don't go to mine! You're not a train, haha!

Turp laughs and slaps Gavri on the back. Gavri is unconvinced that what he just said is a joke.

Gavri
(Sheepishly.) I mean it, dude.

Turp
(Gently disappointed.) Alright, just wanted to hang out. Go show off my drawing, and I'll leave, and I won't come back.

Gavri
Really?

Turp
Not unless I'm making headlines, haha.

Gavri
For real.

Turp
(Rolling his eyes.) Pinkie swear.

Turp offers his pinkie as a show of trust.

Gavri
Your other hand?

From behind him, Turp pulls out his other hand, with crossed fingers.

Turp
Ohp! How'd that get there? (Laughing.) Seriously, you've got nothing to fret about.

Gavri locks his pinkie with Turp's, and lets go. He walks to Torrin to show him the napkin.

Torrin
What... is this?

Gavrial
(Sigh.) Turp asked me to show you, he said it would make you laugh.

Torrin looks over at Turp, who's burping loud, and laughing at the sound of it.

Torrin
(Concerned.) How old is your friend? Did he go to our school at some point?

Gavri
(Shrugging.) Twenty, he's Ms. Bjerke's little brother.

Torrin
The hot blonde one?

REEL CHANGE:  INT. MOONSHINE HIGH, CLASSROOM 302 - DAY
Last Year...

Gavri and Torrin are sitting in class together. 'Welcome to Social Studies' is written on the chalkboard. Ms. Bjerke walks in, wearing a black-and-white spotted polo-blouse and a grey pencil skirt.

Ms. Bjerke
(Bustling, brushing her hair to one side.) Okay, class, today's the final day for your assignment on World War Two. Now I wanna see those reports on my desk, right after I hand you back yesterday's pop quiz.

She stands over her desk to straighten out a stack of papers, and leans over it to organize. Gavri and Torrin inconspicuously lean to one side from their chairs, to gawk at her cleavage.

Torrin
(Still-faced.) I think I can see heaven in there.

Gavri
(Concurrant.) I think I can see lace.

Gavri looks away, seeming flustered.

Gavri
(Blushing again, eyes squinted a bit.) Oh, yeah. The hot blonde one.

Torrin
Alright, lemme see.

Torrin looks again at the drawing on the napkin, and at Turp.

Torrin
I think I'm gonna work alone.

He hands back the napkin, and slowly turns around in his chair. Gavrial tries to hide his disappointment, but can't. He looks back at Turp, and disdainfully watches him pour coffee into his stein, spilling on the floor, before walking away and out the door. From outside, the roar of his motorcycle echoes back in, as he skids off on it.

Aditya
(Off-screen.) Gavrial, coffee!

Gavri goes to make a pot, but they're out of coffee grounds. Turp has taken all of the bags.

Gavri
(Panicking.) FUCK! Damn it, Turp.

Aditya
(Yelling off-screen.) WHAT IS THE RUSH?!

Gavri
(Yelling back.) We're all out!

Aditya
Impossible! I just bought some!

Gavri sighs, and takes a notepad out of his back pocket. He reaches for a pen from his shirt, only to realize it's missing. Gavri puts his head against the cupboard with a bonk. Seeing the napkin drawing on the counter, he crumples it up in one hand and tosses it at the wall, letting it bounce to the floor.