Fast food restaurant. Day.




CASHIER: Next, please.




FRANK: (Pulls out a gun and points it at the cashier.) All right, this is a stick-up! Empty the drawers! Empty the freaking drawers!




(The doors fly open. Enter THE CRITICIZER.The Criticizer is a middle aged woman wearing a cardigan with cats on it.)





CASHIER: It’s The Criticizer! We’re saved.



CRITICIZER: Put the gun down. You 're doing this all wrong.






FRANK: (Points the gun at Criticizer.) Hey! What’re you doing? Get down on the floor.




CRITICIZER: First of all: a McDonald's? Who robs a McDonald's? Were you running low on McNuggets? There is literally a bank right next door.



FRANK: Who do you think you are?

CRITICIZER: Excuse me, am I mistaken or you leave your name tag from Wal-Mart on your shirt? Frank? What kind of name is Frank for a robber? I could’ve taken Q-Dog or Ice or something cool like that, but Frank?





FRANK: Shut you mouth and kiss the floor!



CRITICIZER: Is that really the best you can do? Honestly, I’m not that scared. Maybe if you put more emphasis on the floor. Or maybe you could use the f-word. That might be nice. Do you want to try that?





FRANK: What the fuck are you talking about lady!



CRITICIZER: No, that’s not it. I don’t know, maybe it’s not the words. You know, the way you hold your gun… it’s really feminine.





FRANK: Feminine?



CRITICIZER: Very feminine, you look like one of those nice boys on Bravo.





FRANK: No, I don’t!



CRITICIZER: Whoa, touched a sore-spot. (Singsong) Ba-by!





FRANK: I’m not a baby; you’re a baby!



CRITICIZER: You have misshapen ears.



FRANK: What? (Feels ears) No I don’t!





CRITICIZER: Your right one is lower… and they do this droopy thing. They look like someone nailed two gobs of silly putty at either side of your head.



FRANK: Shut up before I blow a hole in your face.





CRITICIZER: I’m still not feeling the aggression. Have you thought of doing something else for a living, something that fits your personality; like a hairdresser or something?


FRANK: Shut up!





CRITICIZER: Oh! Just look at those small hands! They’re like a baby’s! Little hobbit hands! That’s so cute! Where’s the ring! Where’s the ring!



FRANK: My hands are normal.





CRITICIZER: (Gollum voice.) My Precious!



FRANK: Stop it!




CRITICIZER: You know what they say about small hands? Well, course you do, you’ve been hearing it from women all your life.




FRANK: Please, just be cool. Stop.




CRITICIZER: And you never applied yourself, I’m very disappointed in you.

FRANK: (Drops gun and starts crying. The Criticizer handcuffs Frank and leads him out the door.) Mom?