INT. DEBBIE’S GARDEN SPA SHED – NIGHT
(The spa is glowing in neon-pink serenity. Clients lie in reclined chairs, faces glazed in serum, producing melodic dolphin clicks.)
CHERRY (adjusting her goggles, whispering)
Debbie, your serum turned Sandra into a bath-time bottlenose. She's echolocating the snacks.
DEBBIE (pouring a glowing blue liquid into tiny vials)
Relax. It's a temporary side effect. The serum cleanses your dermis and channels your inner porpoise. Very healing. Extremely boutique.
CHERRY
Boutique?! She ordered a latte by squeaking at the Nespresso.
(Sandra wiggles her eyebrows and clicks rhythmically. The coffee machine responds with a steamy hiss.)
DEBBIE
Besides, didn’t you say you wanted cheekbones sharp enough to slice Brie?
CHERRY
Yes, but not flipper-worthy. Also… I think I just interpreted her clicks. Am I fluent now?
DEBBIE
Only if you start craving sardines.
(Cherry clicks back instinctively. Sandra clicks twice and nods approvingly.)
CHERRY (to Sandra)
You look radiant. Like if a spa and an aquarium had a baby.
(They embrace in a dolphin-style head bump. Debbie applauds like she’s just cured aging and invented dolphin diplomacy.)
DEBBIE
Wrinkles gone. Language skills upgraded. Glow-up status: oceanic.
CHERRY
We’re either beauty geniuses… or mildly unlicensed sea witches.
DEBBIE
Can’t it be both?
No comments:
Post a Comment