Script - Last Legs
INT. LIVINGROOM OF A HUMBLE CAMPO HOME - EVENING
It is the twenty-first of January. The year is 2016. Two ladies have settled down to eat their dinner in front of the television
THE DAUGHTER, a late-thirties, elegant bombshell takes a delicate bite from a side-vegetable on her plate.
This is simply delicious, mother! What is it?
THE MOTHER, another, older, elegant bombshell, turns to her daughter.
Oh, thank you, sweetie! I had some leftover jalapeño peppers that were on their last legs, so I made a spicy stir fry.
THE DAUGHTER stares off in contemplation.
INT. KITCHEN OF A HUMBLE CAMPO HOME - MIDDAY
It is now the fifth of March, 2016. The brightly-lit galley kitchen is cluttered with dirty dishes, pots, and pans.
THE MOTHER patters around the kitchen, fixing a recipe for her successful food blog, while THE DAUGHTER approaches.
I'm huuuungry, Mama! Feed me!
I've got an African cashew and potato stew. Would you like some?
No! Stew is gross. want a cocoa!
The milk's been in there a while. It's really on its last legs. It's only good for cooking now.
THE DAUGHTER stares off in contemplation
EXT. CAB OF A 90s, TOYOTA TRUCK - AFTERNOON
It is a sunny, July day, 2016. The little, yellow pickup weaves through the city streets on chore day.
Oh! I remember now. We need onions.
There's a whole bag in the crisper. I saw it this morning.
I threw those out. They were on their last legs.
THE DAUGHTER stares out the window, her expression is long. It seems that some great burden rests on her shoulders.