Daily Twitter Story: The Toblerone

You tweet it. I write it. Bam! Literature ex tweetio.

Today's Twitter story idea comes from @snakey2010, who wants a story on "The Toblerone." I've done better than a story here - I've written a blockbuster screenplay. Wow! I know.

"The Toblerone"

INT-DAY – The Oval Office

GENERAL CLAIRE

Sir, we’ve developed the ultimate weapon. It will annihilate the Russians, the Chinese and Rhode Island in one crushing deployment.

PRESIDENT

Thank God. Time to shut Rhode Island up once and for all. Tell me about your ultimate weapon.

CLAIRE

When deployed, this weapon will vaporize all life within a 100 mile radius, along with all traces of civilization. Whoever’s left will have to fight back with rocks in socks, sir. They’ll be looking forward to the Stone Age.

PRESIDENT

What’s it called?

CLAIRE

The weapon is code named “The Toblerone.”

PRESIDENT

"The Toblerone"? What for? Is it shaped like a Toblerone bar? Lots of triangles or something?

CLAIRE

No sir. It is a Toblerone bar.

PRESIDENT

No way.

CLAIRE

Apparently the destructive powers of the Toblerone remained unknown and untapped by its inventors.

PRESIDENT

Well I’ll be a sausage-fried son of a bitch.

(pause)

 Is it one of the ones that have those little crunchy bits?

CLAIRE

Does a bear shit in the woods, sir?

PRESIDENT

Sorry, what did you say?

CLAIRE

I said, does a bear shit in the woods, sir.

PRESIDENT

That is a good question. A good, solid, down-to-earth question. But I don’t know the answer. Let’s get someone on that right away.

CLAIRE

Sir –

PRESIDENT (on the phone)

Can you get Weigel in here right away? (places the headset back in the cradle) Weigel is my top man. He’ll get you the answer you need. Let’s just say he solves my ‘out there’ problems.

WEIGEL (enters)

What can I do for you, Mr. President?

PRESIDENT

Weigel, I need you to find out whether bears shit in the woods. This is top priority, Weigel. Weigel. It’s a matter of national security.

WEIGEL

You can count on me, sir.

PRESIDENT

Weigel. Weigel. Can I count on you, Weigel?

WEIGEL

Um - you just - never mind. You know it, sir.

EXT – NIGHT – WEIGEL’S APARTMENT BUILDING

INT – NIGHT – WEIGEL’S APARTMENT.

WEIGEL is in bed, but he can’t sleep. A breeze lazily billows out the curtains of his bedroom window. The sound of the PRESIDENT’s voice repeating his name echoes in his head (“…Weigel. Weigel…”). WEIGEL opens his eyes, sighs.

WEIGEL

Shit.

He gets out of bed and wraps himself in a bathrobe. He reaches for a bottle of JD and sits down at the computer. The Wikipedia entry for Bear is already up on the screen.

WEIGEL scrolls up and down the page listlessly. He knows that the information he seeks isn’t there. He sighs again and knocks back a tumbler of whiskey.

WEIGEL

Looks like we’re going on a trip.

INT – DAY – SCIENTIST’S OFFICE

WEIGEL

… It’s a matter of national security. Obviously I can’t tell you more than that, but any information you can give me would be a great help.

SCIENTIST

You’re not the first person to come to me with this question. (SCIENTIST gets up, selects a book from the shelf of volumes behind him) The truth is, Mr… (the SCIENTIST pauses, but WEIGEL says nothing)… my friend, that no one knows whether bears shit in the woods. In fact, they may not shit at all. Bears are not animals in the sense that you or I use the word.

WEIGEL

What – that doesn’t sound right.

SCIENTIST

I know how it sounds. But that does not make it any less true.

WEIGEL

Are you a real scientist?

SCIENTIST

Obviously not.

EXT – DAY – RURAL ROADSIDE

A car driving up a country road. The car pulls up to a farmer leaning on a fence. The driver’s side window rolls down. It’s WEIGEL!

WEIGEL

Hello there.

FARMER

Hello yourself, car man.

WEIGEL

I just need to know if there are any bears in the woods up ahead.

FARMER

Bears? No, the bears all moved out back in 2002. Are you looking for Ritalin?

WEIGEL

What? No.

FARMER

Oh. ‘Cause I’ve got plenty.

WEIGEL

I didn’t know farmers sold drugs.

FARMER

I’m not a farmer.

EXT – DAY – AIRPORT

Establishing shot of airport. WEIGEL pulls up and gets out of his car.

INT – DAY – TICKET COUNTER

ATTENDANT

Good afternoon, sir, how can I help you?

WEIGEL

I need a ticket to the nearest place where bears live.

ATTENDANT

One moment sir. (The attendant types something into her computer, reads the result). It says here that all the bears are in Rhode Island.

WEIGEL

Ticket to Rhode Island, then.

ATTENDANT

Flights to Rhode Island have been suspended, sir. A Toblerone Bar destroyed all traces of civilization there.

WEIGEL

GOD DAMNIT.

END

That's it for today, folks. If you'd like your tweet transformed into classic literature, send me a message! I can be found @palinode.