OPEN: QUAD SCREEN WITH DIGITAL CLOCK
BOX 1: A cookbook partially obscured by a dishrag
BOX 2: Cooking oil in a Dutch oven
BOX 3: A bag of shrimp, quick zoom on sell-by date
BOX 4: A beautiful WOMAN, dressed for a date, driving
INT. JACK’S KITCHEN — EVENING
JACK frantically searches for something in the midst of desperate meal preparation. Ingredients are on the counters, cabinet doors open.
JACK: DAMMIT!
CU: Five-second contractual hold on Cisco Networks Recipe Database and video phone. Jack dials, he hears the phone chirping, but no one picks up. He looks at his watch.
JACK: Pick up!
CU: JACK’S DAUGHTER KIM appears on the video phone.
KIM: Dad?
JACK: Thank, God. You’re there.
KIM: What’s wrong? Am I in trouble? I told you not to call unless someone’s trying to assassinate me.
JACK: No, no, honey. You’re fine, but I need your help. I’m cooking.
KIM: Cooking? Do you have a date?
JACK: No, yes. I’ll explain later! Right now I need your help. It’s the gumbo.
KIM: Oh, Dad, not shrimp gumbo. That shrimp’s past the sell-by date!
JACK: There’s still time! But I can’t find the Joy of Cooking! I need you to talk me through it.
KIM: Have you looked in your cloaking satchel?
JACK: It’s gone dark. I can’t find it.
KIM: Try to think of the last time you saw it. Did you bring it with you when you shot that East European bioterrorist in the knees?
JACK: No, no. I saw it somewhere, but, but there’s no time, Kim. I need gumbo, and I need it now! She’s on her way!
KIM: Okay, okay! (a beat) Chicken and shrimp gumbo-laya or…
JACK: Dammit! Not gumbo-laya, shrimp and vegetable gumbo!
KIM: All right! Now listen to me. Heat a Dutch oven with two tablespoons of oil, then sautee a cup each of chopped onions and bell peppers, half a cup of chopped celery and a clove of garlic.
JACK: Copy that.
(PHONE CHIRPS)
JACK: Standby, Kim.
KIM: Copy that.
CUT TO WOMAN, INT. CAR, ON PHONE:
OS: Bauer.
WOMAN: Jack? Hey, I might be there a little early. I hope you don’t think I’m too anxious.
JACK: No, no. I’m looking forward to a nice quiet evening.
WOMAN: Good. You need to unwind. No shop talk. No interrogations, no disarming weapons of mass destruction, okay?
JACK: I promise.
WOMAN: Okay, I’m at the corner of Sepulveda and Bob Saget Boulevard, so I should be there soon.
JACK looks at his watch, then the Dutch Oven. He punches the CISCO SYSTEM to a local map tracking her vehicle.
JACK: Hey, as long as you’re early, why don’t you pick up a bottle of wine. There’s a package store a few blocks south. That would put you here between 19-47 and 19-53 hours.
WOMAN: What? I already have wine. I think ahead.
JACK: DAMMIT!
WOMAN: Jack, is something wrong?
JACK: Sorry I said, Saget.. Just some bad memories.
WOMAN: Well, we’ll make some new memories soon enough. See you in a little bit.
JACK: Okay.
JACK punches KIM back in.
KIM: I heard that. Dad, we have to move fast. Have you deveined?
JACK: There’s no time. She’s almost here!
KIM: You have to devein! If you don’t, it’s not gumbo!
Jack pulls out his knife and stares down the expiring shrimp. He wipes the blade with the dishrag, revealing the Joy of Cooking to audience but not to JACK
AUDIO: Sound design count out.
QUAD SCREEN WITH DIGITAL CLOCK.
BOX 1: WOMAN drives past a package store. Bob Saget stands on a corner watching menacingly as she passes by.
BOX 2: Dutch oven
BOX 3: A bag of shrimp, wilting on the counter
BOX 4: Cloaking satchel in invisible mode