INT. FANCY CAFE – AFTERNOON
(Cherry is on a date with a rugged but slightly confused man named Marcus. She’s trying to play it cool, but her purse is humming ominously. Debbie sits two tables away, spying behind a newspaper like a low-budget spy.)
MARCUS
So, you look… glowing. Like you just drank moonlight.
CHERRY
Oh, that’s just my new skincare routine. Ultrasound and optimism.
(Suddenly, her purse starts vibrating violently.)
MARCUS (alarmed)
Is your phone… breakdancing?
CHERRY (innocent smile)
Nope. That’s my 8-watt youth stick. It wants to exfoliate the guacamole off my soul.
DEBBIE (from behind her newspaper)
Turn it off, Cherry. Or the crème brûlée’s gonna explode.
CHERRY (whispers)
I can’t. It thinks I’m aging. It senses fear.
MARCUS (bewildered)
You’re not like other women, are you?
CHERRY
Not since I boiled my cheekbones. So tell me about you. Any hobbies involving electricity?
(Cue Cherry gently massaging her jawline under the table while the café chandelier flickers ominously.)
If you want, I can give Debbie her own criminally glamorous clinic spinoff next. Think Botox meets Breaking Bad 😄
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