FADE IN: "JUICED" INT. WARING BLENDER Steel blades shine inside a huge industrial blender. Sharpened points shoot up from a sprocket mounted in the black plastic base. A sleek killer WARING, the machine fills up the screen. Ominous food processing speeds READ: PUREE; LIQUIFY; PULVERIZE; ULTRA-PULVERIZE; MURDERIZE. SOUND of a motor revving as... Protein powder, muscle-builder mix, odd shaped vitamin pills, and frightened gummy bears are tossed in. A glob of blueberry yogurt, a gallon of milk is added, then pink sprinkles as this mulch fills up the gigantic glass pitcher. The powerful behemoth stands dormant for a half a second as the roaring wind-up continues. A loud WHIRRING brings the beast to life. Heads rip off gummy bears. Whirling chunks blow around inside the gigantic pitcher. The dial is set on MURDERIZE. Then the rotating blades send a heavy blue tidalwave barreling up to the tightly sealed lid; and WHAMMO -- a spurt of pulpy froth explodes all over the inside of a cramped concession booth. INT. MINI-MALL CONCESSION BOOTH DAY The splattered goop sends out a swath of light blue gunk that leaves a trail in its path: across the MITZIS MALT SHOPPE sign on the wall; on the items for sale in the display case; on cups and straws; even the three tables and chairs that ring the tiny booth. And, of course, on malt maven MITZI CULVER, 27, whose limp curls also get a bath. Her clean pink tongue darts out tentatively, licks the mixture off her lips. This stuff is tasty as a Pepto Bismol cocktail. Mitzis face registers the ick factor. MITZI You can look now, Nina. CLOSE ON: A pair of clean hands clenched over a face. The hands belong to Mitzis sometime friend NINA RAYE, 26, great hair but kind of fat, who was smart enough to stand far away from this experiment. NINA Did it work? MITZI Does it look like it worked? Nina grabs a roll of paper towels and sponges Mitzi off. NINA Thats a macho mixture for you, Mitzi. Isnt that what you called it? Macho Macho Malt? (beat) Like any red-blooded American male is going to line up for a smoothie? I dont think so. MITZI They might. NINA Im going to laugh. Sorry, Mitz. I cant help it. MITZI Go ahead. Laugh. You havent had a date since 1989. NINA Shut up. Just shut up. You have the same packets of condoms in your condom dish. From last year. Those things probably arent even good anymore. Lets face it, Mitz. Theres no home remedy to trap a guy. MITZI Trap a guy? This is to increase market share. NINA But you dont get there by blowing yogurt up his nose. Look at you. (examines malt mix) Did you put gummy bears in here? Thats disgusting. They scrub faster as JOHNNY DELLUMS, 29, the creepy mall manager whos also kind of cute, enters. JOHNNY Is this the ESPN special, Fat Chick Fights Funky Froth? NINA How imaginative. MITZI What do you want, Johnny? JOHNNY Official biz, ladies. Management. You dont have enough foot traffic to justify these tables. NINA She does too; I come here. JOHNNY Look around, Mitzi... A SECURITY GUARD waves a flag and lets a long line of CUSTOMERS in as a bell SOUNDS nine times. Its a stream of Customers who conspicuously avoid Mitzis shop. With people, the whole tableau of mall-dom comes into view. Dozens of tiny retail outlets specializing in earrings, large size clothing, mod shoes, an obscene card store, even a personalized matchbook palace called Los Matchbook. Which is located right next to a balls-out kind of place called HEAD-BUTT & GRILL, where official NFL team jerseys or a bona fide athletic jacket is the dress code. Theres also CHESTERS CHEESE HAVEN, with a stocky but older-looking male MOUSE MASCOT who stands around and doles out skimpy samples from a heavy cheese board. Up high on a scaffolding, theres MILO, 30, an artsy hunk painter, who smokes a handrolled cigarette and seems disguntled as he stencils in a tacky mural. Johnny continues to lecture Mitzi as the mall universe unfolds. JOHNNY (CONTD) Not a single person walking in here is saying to himself: Im going to kill if I dont get a malt. What the hell is a malt? Sounds like... Whats that word when hair falls off a dog? NINA Thats called motling, you idiot. MITZI Its a slow day, Johnny. JOHNNY Every days a slow day for you, Mitz. Face it. Maybe you should scale back. A pushcart? NINA A pushcart? Thank you, Mr. Demeaning. Like Mitzi is going to wheel around the Waring on one of those. MITZI So youre going to kick me out? JOHNNY Not me. Management. MITZI Give it another month. JOHNNY Hey, your blender threw up. MITZI Im working on a new recipe. He wipes a finger down her arm, samples the malt. JOHNNY (spits it out) For wallpaper paste? MITZI Something that will appeal to more people. JOHNNY You mean guys? Nobody buys this stuff except chicks on diets. NINA Personally, I will never go on a diet. Being fat is like being bald. Men should go bald. And stay there. Women who are fat should stay fat. JOHNNY (to Mitzi) So youre working on a fat drink? MITZI For bodybuilders. NINA A smoothie. JOHNNY What kind of people are you trying to appeal to? A CUSTOMER enters; Mitzi makes a malt. Nina pulls Johnny aside. NINA Dont shut us down. JOHNNY Its them. Not me. NINA Lets deal. JOHNNY With what? NINA What will another month cost? JOHNNY You would put up your own money to save her? NINA I would. If I had any. How about my earrings? Theyre gold. JOHNNY How about this: you get me a date with Mitzi; I give you 30 days. NINA What if the date sucks? JOHNNY (wryly) Sucks? NINA Not like that! All Im saying is Ill have to trick Mitzi into it, and shell be pissed off. JOHNNY Most girls I go out with are pissed off anyway. NINA Figures. The Customer exits; Mitzi cleans herself off. MITZI I need more time, thats all. JOHNNY Thirty days, Mitzi. But it just prolongs the inevitable. MITZI I dont like ultimatums. He exits. CUT TO: INT. MITZIS MALT SHOPPE LATER Unused glasses and clean tables show this has been a red-letter slow day. Mitzi presses on the buttons of the huge blender just to make sure the motor still works. It HUMS. Mitzi and Nina slump over the counter on their elbows. MITZI Notice how you can never tell if its day or night in here. NINA Its still day. A very slow day. Youre going to have to ask your mother for money. Passing customers totally ignore them. Mitzi fiddles with the blender, which is now mysteriously jammed. MITZI Over my dead body. We need a gimmick. NINA I could take off my clothes. MITZI You wouldnt though. NINA Can I make a horrible confession? I filled out a job application at Chesters Cheese Haven. MITZI You ready to quit? NINA Were broke, Mitz. MITZI You dont know anything about cheese. What could you possibly do there? NINA The mascot job. You get commission. They ask you to wear a Wonderbra. A mouse costume. With cleavage. MITZI Dont resort to rodent imagery. Ill ask my mother for money. Happy? INT. LOS ANGELES TAXICAB DAY Shapely gloved hands dust off the spotless vinyl cabseat; a chic upholstered tush glides onto the naugahyde. The surgically enhanced derrier belongs to Mitzis mother WILHEMINA CULVER, 50something, who was over-the-hill sexy even before the surgery. She carefully rearranges a perfect, though out-of-date coil of dyed gold hair. Her clothes are impeccable, Chanel. She has an ultra-tiny handbag on her lap; but the scowl on her face says it all as she picks a fight with the easygoing CABDRIVER. WILHEMINA Would you like to see a picture of my baby? She hands him a photo. Its Mitzi in a graduation cap and gown. WILHEMINA (CONTD) A double major. Yale. American Studies and Parent Bashing. Thirty-five thousand dollars later, guess what shes doing? Guess. CABDRIVER Therapy eight times a week? WILHEMINA Worse. CABDRIVER Hard time in the clink? Ladies SuperMax? The cab stops in the alley behind the mall; a $20 bill changes hands. WILHEMINA (exits cab) Retail. A concession stand. Most girls her age have husbands; she has a booth. CABDRIVER Is she happy? WILHEMINA Dont give me that crap! No mother wants their kid to be happy. She slams the door; slips into the malls back entrance. INT. MITZIS MALT SHOPPE She and Nina putter around. MILO, the mural painter is their only customer. Mitzi hands him some of the blue goop in a glass. He stares for a moment, but decides to pay anyway. MITZI (shooes money) Its free today. An experiment. NINA Free? Are you crazy? MITZI Im going to ask for a lot of money. NINA How much is a lot? MITZI Youll see. (to Milo) Great mural. MILO My own Sistine Chapel. By the numbers. NINA Our only regular. MILO Ive never considered myself a regular guy. NINA Blame that on the malt. MITZI (to Milo) This is Nina. MILO Names Milo. As in Venus di Milo. My mother wanted to make sure I was doomed to be an artist. Milo crosses to the patio; spreads out at one of the tables and reads ART IN AMERICA. He can barely suck down the blue stuff. MITZI Dont think he likes the new flavor. NINA He could paint me anytime. MITZI Cute, but angry. The last thing you need is an angry guy on your hands. NINA Who knows? Maybe he could integrate into society. A little psychological counseling? Wilhemina clutches her tiny bag close to her heart. Shes lost; out of place; buffetted by mall rats and strollers. NINA (CONTD) (spots Mitzis mother) Is that her? MITZI Surgery works. NINA She looks our age. MITZI Only better looking. Dont rub it in. NINA With that attitude, shell cut you out of her will again. MITZI MA! Hey, Mom. Over here. Wilhemina freezes; storms over. WILHEMINA Dont ever call me Mom. Not in public. Wilhemina gingerly installs herself on a stool at the counter. Nina tries to be invisible. WILHEMINA (CONTD) I had to take a cab. MITZI Mom, meet Nina. NINA Charmed. WILHEMINA I hope you didnt invite me here to ask me for money, because, you know, weve been through this before. MITZI I just wanted you to see the place, Mom... I mean, Wilhemina. WILHEMINA For thirty-five thousand dollars you could at least have found a boyfriend at Yale. MITZI For three thousand dollars, Ill stay in business and out of your hair. WILHEMINA What did I just say? MITZI Come on, Mom. Enough to pay for some new decorations. Advertising. WILHEMINA I will not give you another dime, Matilde. Absolutely not. NINA Matilde? MITZI Its Mitzi, Mom. Nobody calls me Matilde. NINA Shes going to have to rent a pushcart, Mrs. Culver. WILHEMINA She should quit all this. Avoid the humiliation. MITZI Youve never had a real job in your life, Wilhemina. WILHEMINA Real women dont make money; they marry it. NINA Not since 1959. Mrs. Culver. In full mouse mascot gear, BOB DODGE, 51, a former marine sargeant now mascot for Chesters Cheese Haven enters. WILHEMINA Youve got mice. This breaks the tension. BOB Lets see. Ill have a large Mango-Banana-Choco Malt.