literature

Soda Stan

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Literature Text

FADE IN:

INT. SHOE STORE - DUSK

A scraggly 28-year-old with a hat that reads “HANK’S VENDING” is identified by the patch on his blue-collar shirt as STAN. He looks down at the enormous, shiny red basketball shoe that rests in his hands.  

A tag on the shoe reads “SALE: $200.”

After a few surreptitious glances, he draws it to his nose and inhales deeply.

CLERK (O.S.)
We can find that in your size if you’re interested, sir.
The voice startles Stan into dropping the shoe.

STAN
(embarrassed)
No, no.  That’s alright.

The clerk picks the shoe up and sets it back on the display.

CLERK
Well, if there’s anything else we can help you with, just let us know.  We close in ten minutes.

STAN
Ten minutes?  But it’s only...

Stan looks at his watch. His eyes widen.

STAN (CONT'D)
Oh no!  I still gotta eat!

EXT. DRIVE-THRU - DUSK

Stan cranes his head out the window of an old Hyundai.

FEMALE DRIVE-THRU (O.S.)
Would you like to try the triple deluxe bacon burger special today, sir?

STAN
(hurried)
No, just give me the burger I always get.

FEMALE DRIVE-THRU (O.S.)
I don’t know what that is, sir.

STAN
How can you not know what that is?  I eat here every day!  Listen,

Stan gestures with his hands to the speaker.  As he places his order, a wobbling spacecraft crashes silently in the far background.  Humanoids can barely be seen scurrying in all directions after a few moments.  Stan never notices.

STAN (CONT'D)
it’s just a hamburger with the onions on top of the patty and the lettuce and tomato underneath it. But the lettuce has to be between the tomato and the patty.  And then there’s the mustard on top.  It’s got to be a circle about half-dollar size.  Same thing but with horseradish on the bottom.  You got it?

Static noises and feedback can be heard from the other end.

STAN (CONT'D)
Hello?  Aw, Jeez.

EXT. HANK’S VENDING - NIGHT
Stan’s car screeches to a halt in the last available parking space of a huge lot before a warehouse whose great red letters proclaim “HANK’S.”  He makes the long sprint to the door toting a small white fast food bag.

INT. HANK’S VENDING - NIGHT
A line of men in the same uniform Stan was seen in stand at attention as HANK, 48, husky, and definitely the boss, paces before them.  There is a gap in the line.

HANK
And because we’ve become only the second best vending company in the greater Cleveland area, I’ve decided it’s time to step things up with a little friendly competition around here.

Stan hastily takes the empty spot in line and tries to stand straight as he huffs.

Hank allows the silence to call attention to Stan’s lateness and approaches him.

HANK (CONT'D)
Thank you for joining us, Stan.  Please try to do so on time from now on.

STAN
(still short of breath)
I will, sir.

Hank resumes his official air.

HANK
I was just telling the group that we’re getting behind in the rankings.  Since our second in command just left for our competitor, I thought the position, and a raise, should go to the man who finishes his route first tonight.

STAN
(genuinely excited)
I’m glad to hear that, sir.

HANK
I wasn’t speaking to you, Stan!

The yell causes Stan to jump.

HANK (CONT'D)
But I suppose I should tell you that your first stop tonight is the rest area on the lower east side.

STAN
(despair)
Sir, but that’s the farthest-

HANK
I’m sorry, Stan.  Everyone else already drew their lots.

Hank takes notice of the white sack in Stan’s hand.

HANK (CONT'D)
What’ve you got there, Stan?

STAN
My dinner, sir.

HANK
One of Stan’s famous hamburgers?  

Stan says nothing.  Hank smiles.

HANK (CONT’D)
The guys say you’re quite protective of them.  I’ve always wondered why.  Let’s have a taste.

Hank takes the bag and begins to open it.

Stan looks extremely uncomfortable, clenching his jaw to keep from moving.

Hank takes a great bite of the burger and chews thoughtfully before his expression turns bitter.

HANK (CONT'D)
Horseradish and mustard? That’s disgusting.

He puts the burger back in the bag and hands it to Stan as the other men in line snicker.

HANK (CONT'D)
Maybe you’ll get that raise so you can afford some real food.

Hank glances at Stan’s tattered shoes.

HANK (CONT'D)
And some real shoes too.  Get out there and stock those machines, men!

The men disperse.  On his way out, Stan disgustedly tosses the white bag in the trash can.

EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT

A vending truck passes a sign that reads, “REST AREA 2 MILES.”  When the truck is fully past, camera moves to reveal a group of young boys rooting around through empty soda boxes beneath the sign.

INT. REST AREA - NIGHT

Stan finishes stocking the second-highest row of soda cans  in a Coke machine.  The rows below it are full.

As he turns back to the neatly-lined rows of cans on a dolly he wheeled in, he notices an empty slot where a can was.

He looks around.  The place is deserted.

He peaks over the far edge of the box on the dolly and sees a dirty BOY about to open the missing can.

STAN
HEY!

The boy dashes away without even looking at Stan.

Stan pursues and manages to grab the boy’s calf before he squeezes through the heavy glass door.  The boy struggles to free himself.

STAN (CONT'D)
Just where do you think you’re goin’ with that, buster?

The boy struggles on heedlessly.  He begins to whimper.

STAN (CONT'D)
Look, if you’re really that thirsty, I can help you out.  If you’d just asked first I could’ve-

Stan is interrupted when the boy quickly turns his head toward him.  The boy’s face is seen for the first time: it is that of a man in his late 20s, but one who has led a life so stressful that certain features look older.  His mouth opens, and as an unearthly roar pours from it, his pale face morphs to one gray with thick folds, his eyes flashing silver.

Stan tumbles backward in surprise.

The small man sprints out through the door.

After a moment, Stan gets up slowly, still stunned.

He approaches the glass door by which the stranger escaped.  He looks through it, but does not open it.

He turns back around and paces his way back to the dolly.

The rest of the cans are gone. He looks at the machine. It is empty.

Stan stiffens.  He wills himself to push his dolly back outside.

EXT. REST AREA - NIGHT

Stan pushes his dolly through the door and looks toward the parking lot.

Three YOUNG MALE humanoids of about the same size as the one Stan just encountered are pawing at the back of a truck that says “HANK’S” in large letters on its trailer.  They look as though they are trying to get inside, but they are futilely hitting the truck rather than trying the doors or windows.

Stan hides with his dolly behind a bush.

He notices a large TRASH CAN.

The humanoids are still banging on the sides and rear of the truck, but one by one they look away from it, focusing on something in the direction of the rest area.

A large trash can moves smoothly toward them.

Stan is crouched beneath the dolly that supports it, rolling it so he cannot be seen.

The trash can stops.  The humanoids slowly approach it.

When they have congregated around it, Stan springs the thing on them with a great shout, startling them into hissing noises and confusion.

He runs to the truck amidst the chaos.

INT. TRUCK - NIGHT

Stan locks his doors and begins talking on the radio.  

STAN
Stan to HQ!  A full machine load has just been stolen.

Static noises and feedback nearly identical to that heard over the fast food speaker come through.

STAN (CONT'D)
HQ, do you copy?

The humanoids begin BANGING on the truck louder than before.  Stan starts the truck and REVS the engine several times.

In Stan’s mirrors, the humanoids can be seen backing away from the truck and eventually dispersing.

As Stan starts driving away, reveal a HUMANOID lying flat atop the trailer, holding the sides as it exits frame.

EXT. HANK’S VENDING - NIGHT

Stan’s truck stops on the outer edge of the parking lot before Hank’s.  He exits and looks at the warehouse.

The lit windows frame riotous silhouettes to match the distant sounds of destruction.  The lights flicker out.

Stan, now with soda in hand, stares brooding.  As he stares and speaks, the humanoid on his roof is slowly inching over the horizon created by the trailer’s edge.

STAN
Jesus;  Hank is still in there.

The humanoid leaps on Stan with a snarl.

Stan turns around just in time to be knocked onto his back. The creature, hissing and salivating, holds Stan’s arms by the wrists, inching his face toward Stan’s.  

Stan resists, making guttural noises, too afraid to scream.

Suddenly the creature stops and sniffs.  His head whips toward the can in Stan’s hand.  He snatches it and holds it against his face a moment, cooing, then scurries away.

Stan looks after the thing and catches his breath.  He then looks toward his truck.

His hand briskly fills his backpack with soda cans and zips the bag shut.

INT. HANK’S VENDING - NIGHT

The only light in the warehouse pours in through windows from the moon and streetlamps.  Furniture shambles are scattered everywhere,
employees lie unconscious, and crowds of humanoids feud over the soda they’ve managed to pry from ravaged machines.

Stan keeps quietly to the perimeter, staying out of the light as he makes his way to a room with “HANK” written on the mosaic window of its door.  There is a large window that lets in a sizeable spot of moonlight above and a metal garage-like door beside it.  Stan enters Hank’s office swiftly.

INT. HANK’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Stan quietly closes the door behind him.

HANK
Stan!

Hank is hiding beneath his desk.

STAN
What are you doing?  This door wasn’t even locked!

HANK
They haven’t come near the door.  There’s no soda in here.  All they want is the soda.

STAN
Where are the keys?

Hank throws Stan a key ring.  Stan locks the door and pockets the keys.

HANK
Who are they, Stan?

STAN
Your new best customers; only they ain’t payin’.

HANK
They’re gonna take everything!

STAN
The main garage is still closed.  Insurance should cover the rest.  Let’s just try to get out of here.

Stan turns toward the door.

HANK
I’m not going out there!

Stan stops, turns back to Hank.

STAN
You’re just going to stay here?  With them?

HANK
Well...I guess not.  Just go out and make sure the coast is clear, okay?

BEAT

STAN
How about that promotion?

HANK
What?

STAN
No one else made it, did they?

HANK
Well...yeah, okay. If we make it out of here, you’re second in command.

STAN
Good.

Stan smiles and starts to exit.

HANK
Stan!

Stan looks back.

HANK (CONT'D)
Lock the door, okay?

Stan barely suppresses a laugh.

INT. HANK’S VENDING - NIGHT

Stan quietly closes the door behind him locking it with his new keys, but any triumph on his face is quickly wiped away.

A CROWD of humanoids create a semi-circle around the scraggly man.  The foremost of them are lit by the light falling from the window above Hank’s office, but the silhouettes behind seem to stretch forever.  There is one more distant silhouette that is about the height and width of an  elephant.

Stan swallows hard and smiles meekly.  He slowly begins to take off his backpack.

The humanoids look interested.  They move slightly closer.

Stan has the bag open now.  He pulls out a can.

An anxious murmur pervades the crowd.

Stan chucks the can over the crowd before him.  An audible scuffle ensues, but the semi-circle remains.  Those unable to reach the can soon direct their attention back to Stan.

Stan begins throwing cans in all directions.

Greater scuffles ensue.

Stan tries exiting at a few slight breaks in the semi-circle, but finds each to be a dead-end of shuffling bodies.  He is finally pressed back into his original place.

The humanoids look at him expectantly.

Stan looks into his empty bag, then smiles meekly at the crowd.

The elephantine silhouette begins growing in size.  It is getting closer, apparently sliding across the floor.

Stan reaches for the keys and turns to the door to Hank’s office.  He fumbles for the correct one.

The figure is much closer.

Stan hurriedly inserts the key and turns it as fast as he can.  It breaks inside the lock.  Stan flushes pale.

A thick, slimy TENTACLE extends from the figure into the light.  It attaches itself to a humanoid who is crouched on the ground, enjoying a soda can.  It lifts the thing into the darkness.  Screams, crunching noises, then silence are heard.

Stan looks frantically around.  He notices the garage door.  A lever marked “LIFT” is encased in thick plastic.  There is a keyhole at the bottom of the encasement.

Stan begins trying keys.

The QUEEN, an enormous, tentacled slug with a mouth so large it might not need its massive teeth to swallow Stan, enters the light with a moaning roar.

Stan tries keys faster.  The Queen and her subjects begin closing in on him.

A key slides in, Stan turns it, and the encasement pops open.

The Queen’s tentacles are inches from Stan.

Stan thrusts the lever upward and curls into the fetal position against the wall.

A loud metallic noise precedes a mechanical hum interspersed with ratchet noises.  The initial noise takes the humanoids slightly aback.

More of the crowd can gradually be seen in the new light that sweeps over them with the opening of the door.

Inside the door are endless rows of vending machines, stark still in the foggy luminescence.

Light from the now open door is cast on the ogling eyes of the many creatures and the monstrosity that is their queen, all immobilized by gazes into the light.

Stan opens one eye, then begins to let his body uncurl.  He looks at the crowd.

Silence. Stan finally lets himself relax a bit, but is still wary.

FIGURES come out from behind the Queen and begin making their way through the shadowed portion of the crowd.

Stan squints to see them.

Into the light emerges a PARTY of three creatures: two stronger males with arms locked in a seat that carries their PRINCESS, a feminine creature adorned with a silvery soda can breastplate.

In her hands is a lavender cushion, atop which rests the shiny red basketball shoes.  They are resting sideways, openings facing one another, and appear to be on top of a thick black ring of a handspan’s diameter.

As the party reaches Stan, they lift their princess so her head is level with his.  She gets her face close to his and appears to smile.
Stan faintly tries to reciprocate.

The girl takes the shoes in her hands.  As she lifts them, it is apparent that the sneakers are bound to the thick black ring.  She  ceremoniously places the ring on Stan’s head so that it rests atop his ears and across his nose, the openings of the shoes near his nostrils.

Stan looks around in disbelief.

The crowd begins bowing and chanting.

The princess is still transfixed in an admiring gaze.

After looking across his new subjects, Stan finally takes a deep, long sniff.  He smiles.

INT. FAST FOOD RESTAURANT - DAY

Creatures crowd the soda fountain, clambering to drink directly from the various valves. Tracking around the room, we see some small ones harassing a young female employee in uniform, one spinning gleefully in the swivelling device that stirs the milkshake machine, and many others wreaking general havoc.  The tracking shot finally stops on Stan, sitting calmly at one of the tables.  Hank, dressed in chef’s attire, places a plate with a burger on it in front of him.  Stan picks it up and takes a bite.  He nods.

FADE OUT.
My first short film in all its glory. Tentative title...I want to give it a better one eventually.

PLEASE point out errors, things that don't make sense, things that suck, or things you like. Thanks.
© 2005 - 2024 VincentVanGone
Comments2
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Monkin's avatar
i liked it, but personally i like movies with some sort of background afterwards. when i was little i hated goosebumps stories because they ended alot like this, they just got to a point where the conflict was over but the newer element in the story (like the aliens) hadnt been explained yet. thats a personal thing though and i do like the story itself.