A Nice Cuppa

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
INTERIOR - THE CUPPA - DAY
Ferina hands the box to her father, the thick brown cardboard perhaps the size of two shoeboxes taped together. Dad’s eyes get wide, maybe curious for the first time since he realized he had them way back when.
DAD: (in thought) I love this. Not quite sure […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
INTERIOR - THE CUPPA - DAY
Tuti enters, fresh off her run-in in the trash bay. By all visual accounts, things couldn’t be righter. Cool as a cucumber, though time was foremost on her mind. She needed the box.
JUSTIN: How’d it go.
TUTI: Bit messy for my taste.
Nudge nudge….double talk that’d make Schwarzenegger […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
WEST SUMATRA
INTERIOR - CAR/MOVING - DAY
GUNTER: Is this possible?
PRAMANA: How much do you have in personal accounts?
GUNTER: We need it now? What for?
PRAMANA: To make a buy. What d’you think?
GUNTER: All of it?
PRAMANA: Maybe…I’m kicking in too, so…whatever. Depends on what the […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
TUTI: (in thought) Follow me Earlobe.
She knew he would. The sight of her running would pull him from his roost. It was like breaking from the blocks before the gun…everyone’s nerves were so jangled, people were looking for an excuse to run. So Earlobe would be […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
Interior - The Cuppa - Day
“Hip Hop MVP”…and the letters twisted their way across his back, around his shoulder blades almost. Six gold stars spread themselves across two wavy swooshes that underlined the initials. He probably thought highly about the gold embossed lettering himself as he strutted. […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
Interior - Motel - West Sumatra
PRAMANA: You seem to know people.
GUNTER: Mm.
Gunter still hiccuped bubbles of stomach bile to his throat. The taste was forgettable but he couldn’t retain it while his head spun. John was the man he’d heard in the cafe, no question. […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
Exterior - Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
GUNTER: (In thought) Why are we hiding in a motel? They know where we live….sure to know where we work. Whatever. You get freaked out, you hide. We’re hiding. I like hiding…even like being found. Game o hide […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
Interior - Motel - West Sumatra
GUNTER: I want a tea.
PRAMANA: You just had choco.
GUNTER: I got something to prove.
Pramana could have cared less. Their location had been made, and the “good” side of a smuggling simulation was threatening to end their training in the field. […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
Exterior - Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
Black and sporty, a bit arrogant. It glides up to the curbside and comes to an abrupt stop. Music blares from the inside even before the door is cracked. A well-dressed foot steps out and the camera pans up for a first look. […]

CROUCHING BARISTA, HIDDEN LACTOSE (continued…)
Recap: Things heat up for the chemically involved: Tuti’s attempt to get closer to the package brings her head to head with a customer who makes her uncharacteristically quiet, and Pramana’s bungalow is routed out by a not-so-mysterious gentlemen from his past.
And now we continue, with […]