The Frozen Fence
Stranded in the wasteland behind the subdivision, Toby and Mina face the crushing weight of a Tuesday gone wrong. A quest for snacks becomes a battle against gravity, gloom, and the unstoppable urge to giggle.
EXT. SUBURBAN WASTELAND - LATE AFTERNOON
A bleak, grey landscape. The snow isn't fluffy; it's a jagged, refrozen crust that scrapes against everything.
SOUND: A bitter WIND whips through a gap in a chain-link fence, smelling of wet asphalt and dead pine needles.
TOBY (10), swallowed by a blue puffer jacket, lies face down in the ice. He is perfectly still except for one boot kicking weakly at the air. His other boot is wedged in the V of a frozen oak root.
TOBY
> (Muffled, into the ice)
> I am fallen.
MINA (10) stands over him. She wears a bright yellow coat with a grease smudge on the pocket. A hat with untied ear flaps flaps against her cheeks like sad bird wings. She regards him with the solemnity of a graveyard statue.
MINA
> Get up, soldier. The mission isn't over.
Her voice, meant to be deep and commanding, cracks on the last word.
TOBY
> (Rolling onto his side)
> It is. I have sustained critical damage. To my soul.
The crusty snow scratches his cheek. He doesn't care.
MINA
> Was it the haircut?
Toby squeezes his eyes shut. The memory is too fresh.
TOBY
> Do not speak of it. I look like a radish. A shaved radish.
MINA
> You do.
She isn't being mean. It's a fact. A rule of the Wasteland. No lies. She sniffs. A drip hangs from her red nose. She wipes it with a mitten already stiff with frozen snot.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> But we have to get to the store. I need the gummies. The sour ones. If I don't have sour gummies, the darkness wins.
The "darkness" is a reddish-brown spaghetti sauce stain frozen into armor plating on the knee of her jeans.
Toby lets out a long, rattling sigh. He tugs his stuck boot. It doesn't budge.
TOBY
> Leave me, Mina. Save yourself. Get the gummies. Tell my mom I... tell her I hated the meatloaf.
MINA
> I can't leave you.
She grabs the back of his jacket and PULLS. Her boots slip. She goes down on one knee with a loud CRUNCH.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> Ow. Stupid ice. Stupid world.
They stay there, a huddled heap in the grey light. The sun is a pale, watery thing behind the clouds.
SOUND: A crow CAWS from a telephone wire. The distant roar of the highway.
TOBY
> This is a tragedy. We are tragic figures.
MINA
> Like in that play? The one where everyone drinks the poison?
TOBY
> Yes. Except our poison is life. And bad haircuts. And spaghetti pants.
MINA
> (Whispering)
> It wasn't just spaghetti. There was pudding, Toby. Chocolate pudding. It got in my hair.
Toby gasps, pushing himself up on his elbows.
TOBY
> Not the pudding.
MINA
> (Darkly)
> The pudding. I had to wash it out in the bathroom sink. The water was cold. The soap smelled like pink sadness.
Toby slumps back down. This is indeed a dark timeline.
Mina gets a resolute look in her eye. She stands, brushing ice from her knees.
MINA
> We have to move. Operation Sugar Rush is active. I am commanding you to rise.
She grabs Toby's free ankle and YANKS.
TOBY
> (Flailing)
> You're pulling the wrong leg! The other one! The trap! Focus, Mina!
Mina switches targets. She grabs the stuck boot with both mittened hands, plants her feet, and grits her teeth.
MINA
> On three. One. Two. ARGHHH!
She pulls with all her might.
There is a sucking sound, a tearing noise, and a POP.
Toby flies forward, face-planting into a drift of softer snow.
Mina flies backward, landing hard on her butt and sliding until she hits the fence with a metallic CLANG.
Silence.
Toby scrambles up, wiping snow from his face. He checks his feet. Both boots are on. A miracle.
TOBY
> I am free! The dungeon could not hold me!
MINA
> (From the fence)
> My butt. I think I broke it. I think my butt is shattered.
Toby rushes over, offering a hand.
TOBY
> Can you walk? Or must I carry you? I can't actually carry you, you're too heavy with all those coats, but I can drag you.
Mina takes his hand and hoists herself up, rubbing her lower back.
MINA
> I can walk. Pain is just... weakness leaving the body. Or whatever.
They stand together, breathing hard, clouds of vapor puffing from their mouths.
Before them: a steep, twenty-foot embankment leading to a convenience store parking lot. It is covered in a sheet of ice that looks like a glazed donut from hell.
TOBY
> (Whispering)
> The Vertical Limit.
MINA
> We need gear.
She pats her pockets.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> I have... a chapstick. And a rock.
TOBY
> I have a protractor. And a half-eaten granola bar. It's oatmeal raisin.
MINA
> Disgusting. Keep it for emergency rations. In case we get trapped for weeks.
TOBY
> Right.
He zips his jacket up to his chin and approaches the hill.
EXT. ICY EMBANKMENT - CONTINUOUS
Toby slams his boot into the ice. It bounces off. He slides sideways, grabbing a handful of dead weeds that rip out of the ground.
MINA
> (O.S.)
> Careful! Don't look down!
TOBY
> I'm three inches off the ground, Mina! I'm looking at my own knees!
He scrambles, digging his fingers into the frozen mud. The cold bites at his fingertips. He grunts, heaving himself up, using a frozen soda can as a stepping stone.
TOBY
> (CONT'D)
> I'm making progress! I see the summit! I see the dumpster!
Mina follows, crawling on all fours like a spider in a snowsuit.
MINA
> On your left. Passing. Watch out for the yellow ice. Never trust the yellow ice.
They reach a small ledge halfway up where an old tire is half-buried. They sit on it, panting.
TOBY
> Status report.
He wipes his nose on his sleeve. The snot freezes instantly.
MINA
> Cold. Hungry. Sadness level... steady at eighty percent.
TOBY
> Only eighty?
He touches his head under his hat.
TOBY
> (CONT'D)
> I'm at ninety. Maybe ninety-five. I look like a convict, Mina. A convict radish.
MINA
> It'll grow back.
She doesn't sound convinced.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> My mom yelled at me about the pants. She said, 'Mina, how do you attract dirt like a magnet?' She said spaghetti doesn't just jump on people.
TOBY
> But it does. It has physics. Gravity. Momentum. The spaghetti wanted to be on you.
MINA
> Exactly. I just stood there. I didn't say anything. I just felt... small. You know? Like a crumb.
Toby nods. He knows the feeling.
TOBY
> I felt like a crumb when the barber held up the mirror. He was smiling. He thought he did a good job. I had to say 'Thanks.' I had to pay him to ruin my life.
They sit in silence. The wind howls. A plastic bag dances past like a ghost.
MINA
> We are the worst. We are the losers of the ice age.
TOBY
> The kings of the losers.
He reaches into his pocket.
TOBY
> (CONT'D)
> Ration time?
He pulls out the smashed granola bar. He peels open the wrinkled wrapper. It has crumbled into oat dust and raisins.
MINA
> (Sarcastic)
> A feast. For the kings.
Toby pours a handful of crumbs into his gloved hand and offers it to Mina.
TOBY
> Partake.
Mina leans forward, sticking out her tongue to lick the crumbs.
At that exact moment, a GUST of wind blows a cloud of oat dust straight into her face.
Mina GAGS. She COUGHS, flailing.
MINA
> I'm blinded! The raisins! They're attacking!
She lets out a massive, explosive SNEEZE that echoes off the embankment. Her head snaps forward, her hat sliding over her eyes.
Toby stares. She looks like a mushroom that just exploded. A piece of oat is stuck to her eyelash.
A weird sound bubbles up in Toby's throat. A seal BARK.
Mina pushes her hat up. Her eyes are watering. She looks furious. Then she sees the oat. She crosses her eyes to look at it.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> Is it... is it still there?
TOBY
> (Choking back a laugh)
> Yeah. It's... it's looking at me.
Mina tries to brush it away, misses, and hits herself in the nose with her stiff mitten.
MINA
> Ow! Betrayal!
Toby starts to shake. A high-pitched GIGGLE leaks out.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> Stop it. This is serious. I almost died by oatmeal.
TOBY
> (Gasping)
> You... you looked like... like a sneezing mushroom.
MINA
> I am not a mushroom. I am a warrior.
But her mouth is twitching.
TOBY
> A mushroom warrior!
He falls backward onto the tire, LAUGHING so hard his stomach hurts.
Mina looks at him, then lets out a rusty laugh of her own. It opens up, and soon they are both howling, lying side by side on the frozen slope, gasping for air. The sadness isn't gone, but it feels lighter.
MINA
> (Wheezing)
> Okay. Okay. Regroup. The mission.
TOBY
> (Sitting up)
> The gummies. We have to reach the summit.
Fueled by laughter, they scramble the rest of the way up the hill.
EXT. 7-ELEVEN PARKING LOT - MOMENTS LATER
Toby hauls himself over the top, rolling onto the blacktop. The smell of gasoline and old dumpster juice. Victory.
He reaches down a hand.
TOBY
> Give me your hand, Mushroom.
MINA
> Don't call me that.
She grabs his hand, and he pulls her up. They stand in the glow of the buzzing 7-ELEVEN sign. A beacon.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> We conquered the waste. Do you have money?
Toby pats his pockets. Panic flashes across his face. He checks his secret inside pocket. His fingers brush a crumpled bill. He pulls out a FIVE-DOLLAR BILL, holding it up like a holy relic.
TOBY
> Secure.
MINA
> Good. I'm getting the blue ones. They turn your tongue black.
TOBY
> I'm getting chips. The spicy ones. The ones that hurt.
The automatic doors WHOOSH open.
INT. 7-ELEVEN - CONTINUOUS
A wall of warmth hits them, smelling of hot dogs and floor cleaner. It's the best smell in the world.
Their boots squeak on the linoleum.
ANGLE ON a drink cooler's glass door. Toby sees his reflection. The haircut is bad. Really bad. His ears stick out like handles. The shame returns.
But then he sees Mina in the reflection behind him. She has a smear of dirt on her forehead. She's holding up a bag of gummy worms.
She catches his eye in the glass. She sticks out her tongue. It is already bright blue.
A genuine SMILE spreads across Toby's face. He looks like a radish, but he's a radish with a friend.
TOBY
> Hey. Do you think they have hats in here?
MINA
> (Tearing open the gummies)
> Probably not. But we can make one. Out of a chip bag. It would be... a look.
TOBY
> A bold look.
MINA
> A tragic look.
She hands him a blue worm.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> Here. Eat. It's sour.
Toby eats it. It's so sour it makes his jaw ache. It's perfect.
A bleak, grey landscape. The snow isn't fluffy; it's a jagged, refrozen crust that scrapes against everything.
SOUND: A bitter WIND whips through a gap in a chain-link fence, smelling of wet asphalt and dead pine needles.
TOBY (10), swallowed by a blue puffer jacket, lies face down in the ice. He is perfectly still except for one boot kicking weakly at the air. His other boot is wedged in the V of a frozen oak root.
TOBY
> (Muffled, into the ice)
> I am fallen.
MINA (10) stands over him. She wears a bright yellow coat with a grease smudge on the pocket. A hat with untied ear flaps flaps against her cheeks like sad bird wings. She regards him with the solemnity of a graveyard statue.
MINA
> Get up, soldier. The mission isn't over.
Her voice, meant to be deep and commanding, cracks on the last word.
TOBY
> (Rolling onto his side)
> It is. I have sustained critical damage. To my soul.
The crusty snow scratches his cheek. He doesn't care.
MINA
> Was it the haircut?
Toby squeezes his eyes shut. The memory is too fresh.
TOBY
> Do not speak of it. I look like a radish. A shaved radish.
MINA
> You do.
She isn't being mean. It's a fact. A rule of the Wasteland. No lies. She sniffs. A drip hangs from her red nose. She wipes it with a mitten already stiff with frozen snot.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> But we have to get to the store. I need the gummies. The sour ones. If I don't have sour gummies, the darkness wins.
The "darkness" is a reddish-brown spaghetti sauce stain frozen into armor plating on the knee of her jeans.
Toby lets out a long, rattling sigh. He tugs his stuck boot. It doesn't budge.
TOBY
> Leave me, Mina. Save yourself. Get the gummies. Tell my mom I... tell her I hated the meatloaf.
MINA
> I can't leave you.
She grabs the back of his jacket and PULLS. Her boots slip. She goes down on one knee with a loud CRUNCH.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> Ow. Stupid ice. Stupid world.
They stay there, a huddled heap in the grey light. The sun is a pale, watery thing behind the clouds.
SOUND: A crow CAWS from a telephone wire. The distant roar of the highway.
TOBY
> This is a tragedy. We are tragic figures.
MINA
> Like in that play? The one where everyone drinks the poison?
TOBY
> Yes. Except our poison is life. And bad haircuts. And spaghetti pants.
MINA
> (Whispering)
> It wasn't just spaghetti. There was pudding, Toby. Chocolate pudding. It got in my hair.
Toby gasps, pushing himself up on his elbows.
TOBY
> Not the pudding.
MINA
> (Darkly)
> The pudding. I had to wash it out in the bathroom sink. The water was cold. The soap smelled like pink sadness.
Toby slumps back down. This is indeed a dark timeline.
Mina gets a resolute look in her eye. She stands, brushing ice from her knees.
MINA
> We have to move. Operation Sugar Rush is active. I am commanding you to rise.
She grabs Toby's free ankle and YANKS.
TOBY
> (Flailing)
> You're pulling the wrong leg! The other one! The trap! Focus, Mina!
Mina switches targets. She grabs the stuck boot with both mittened hands, plants her feet, and grits her teeth.
MINA
> On three. One. Two. ARGHHH!
She pulls with all her might.
There is a sucking sound, a tearing noise, and a POP.
Toby flies forward, face-planting into a drift of softer snow.
Mina flies backward, landing hard on her butt and sliding until she hits the fence with a metallic CLANG.
Silence.
Toby scrambles up, wiping snow from his face. He checks his feet. Both boots are on. A miracle.
TOBY
> I am free! The dungeon could not hold me!
MINA
> (From the fence)
> My butt. I think I broke it. I think my butt is shattered.
Toby rushes over, offering a hand.
TOBY
> Can you walk? Or must I carry you? I can't actually carry you, you're too heavy with all those coats, but I can drag you.
Mina takes his hand and hoists herself up, rubbing her lower back.
MINA
> I can walk. Pain is just... weakness leaving the body. Or whatever.
They stand together, breathing hard, clouds of vapor puffing from their mouths.
Before them: a steep, twenty-foot embankment leading to a convenience store parking lot. It is covered in a sheet of ice that looks like a glazed donut from hell.
TOBY
> (Whispering)
> The Vertical Limit.
MINA
> We need gear.
She pats her pockets.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> I have... a chapstick. And a rock.
TOBY
> I have a protractor. And a half-eaten granola bar. It's oatmeal raisin.
MINA
> Disgusting. Keep it for emergency rations. In case we get trapped for weeks.
TOBY
> Right.
He zips his jacket up to his chin and approaches the hill.
EXT. ICY EMBANKMENT - CONTINUOUS
Toby slams his boot into the ice. It bounces off. He slides sideways, grabbing a handful of dead weeds that rip out of the ground.
MINA
> (O.S.)
> Careful! Don't look down!
TOBY
> I'm three inches off the ground, Mina! I'm looking at my own knees!
He scrambles, digging his fingers into the frozen mud. The cold bites at his fingertips. He grunts, heaving himself up, using a frozen soda can as a stepping stone.
TOBY
> (CONT'D)
> I'm making progress! I see the summit! I see the dumpster!
Mina follows, crawling on all fours like a spider in a snowsuit.
MINA
> On your left. Passing. Watch out for the yellow ice. Never trust the yellow ice.
They reach a small ledge halfway up where an old tire is half-buried. They sit on it, panting.
TOBY
> Status report.
He wipes his nose on his sleeve. The snot freezes instantly.
MINA
> Cold. Hungry. Sadness level... steady at eighty percent.
TOBY
> Only eighty?
He touches his head under his hat.
TOBY
> (CONT'D)
> I'm at ninety. Maybe ninety-five. I look like a convict, Mina. A convict radish.
MINA
> It'll grow back.
She doesn't sound convinced.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> My mom yelled at me about the pants. She said, 'Mina, how do you attract dirt like a magnet?' She said spaghetti doesn't just jump on people.
TOBY
> But it does. It has physics. Gravity. Momentum. The spaghetti wanted to be on you.
MINA
> Exactly. I just stood there. I didn't say anything. I just felt... small. You know? Like a crumb.
Toby nods. He knows the feeling.
TOBY
> I felt like a crumb when the barber held up the mirror. He was smiling. He thought he did a good job. I had to say 'Thanks.' I had to pay him to ruin my life.
They sit in silence. The wind howls. A plastic bag dances past like a ghost.
MINA
> We are the worst. We are the losers of the ice age.
TOBY
> The kings of the losers.
He reaches into his pocket.
TOBY
> (CONT'D)
> Ration time?
He pulls out the smashed granola bar. He peels open the wrinkled wrapper. It has crumbled into oat dust and raisins.
MINA
> (Sarcastic)
> A feast. For the kings.
Toby pours a handful of crumbs into his gloved hand and offers it to Mina.
TOBY
> Partake.
Mina leans forward, sticking out her tongue to lick the crumbs.
At that exact moment, a GUST of wind blows a cloud of oat dust straight into her face.
Mina GAGS. She COUGHS, flailing.
MINA
> I'm blinded! The raisins! They're attacking!
She lets out a massive, explosive SNEEZE that echoes off the embankment. Her head snaps forward, her hat sliding over her eyes.
Toby stares. She looks like a mushroom that just exploded. A piece of oat is stuck to her eyelash.
A weird sound bubbles up in Toby's throat. A seal BARK.
Mina pushes her hat up. Her eyes are watering. She looks furious. Then she sees the oat. She crosses her eyes to look at it.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> Is it... is it still there?
TOBY
> (Choking back a laugh)
> Yeah. It's... it's looking at me.
Mina tries to brush it away, misses, and hits herself in the nose with her stiff mitten.
MINA
> Ow! Betrayal!
Toby starts to shake. A high-pitched GIGGLE leaks out.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> Stop it. This is serious. I almost died by oatmeal.
TOBY
> (Gasping)
> You... you looked like... like a sneezing mushroom.
MINA
> I am not a mushroom. I am a warrior.
But her mouth is twitching.
TOBY
> A mushroom warrior!
He falls backward onto the tire, LAUGHING so hard his stomach hurts.
Mina looks at him, then lets out a rusty laugh of her own. It opens up, and soon they are both howling, lying side by side on the frozen slope, gasping for air. The sadness isn't gone, but it feels lighter.
MINA
> (Wheezing)
> Okay. Okay. Regroup. The mission.
TOBY
> (Sitting up)
> The gummies. We have to reach the summit.
Fueled by laughter, they scramble the rest of the way up the hill.
EXT. 7-ELEVEN PARKING LOT - MOMENTS LATER
Toby hauls himself over the top, rolling onto the blacktop. The smell of gasoline and old dumpster juice. Victory.
He reaches down a hand.
TOBY
> Give me your hand, Mushroom.
MINA
> Don't call me that.
She grabs his hand, and he pulls her up. They stand in the glow of the buzzing 7-ELEVEN sign. A beacon.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> We conquered the waste. Do you have money?
Toby pats his pockets. Panic flashes across his face. He checks his secret inside pocket. His fingers brush a crumpled bill. He pulls out a FIVE-DOLLAR BILL, holding it up like a holy relic.
TOBY
> Secure.
MINA
> Good. I'm getting the blue ones. They turn your tongue black.
TOBY
> I'm getting chips. The spicy ones. The ones that hurt.
The automatic doors WHOOSH open.
INT. 7-ELEVEN - CONTINUOUS
A wall of warmth hits them, smelling of hot dogs and floor cleaner. It's the best smell in the world.
Their boots squeak on the linoleum.
ANGLE ON a drink cooler's glass door. Toby sees his reflection. The haircut is bad. Really bad. His ears stick out like handles. The shame returns.
But then he sees Mina in the reflection behind him. She has a smear of dirt on her forehead. She's holding up a bag of gummy worms.
She catches his eye in the glass. She sticks out her tongue. It is already bright blue.
A genuine SMILE spreads across Toby's face. He looks like a radish, but he's a radish with a friend.
TOBY
> Hey. Do you think they have hats in here?
MINA
> (Tearing open the gummies)
> Probably not. But we can make one. Out of a chip bag. It would be... a look.
TOBY
> A bold look.
MINA
> A tragic look.
She hands him a blue worm.
MINA
> (CONT'D)
> Here. Eat. It's sour.
Toby eats it. It's so sour it makes his jaw ache. It's perfect.