INT. Szechuan Palace Restaurant - Night
[John, mid-70s with Coke bottle glasses, sits across from his daughter, Molly, dressed in hospital scrubs. In a restaurant boisterous with the clatter of glasses and dim sum trollies, this table is set with a palpable chill.] (1/5) https://twitter.com/johnroderick/status/1345508384011816960

[A waitress mercifully interrupts the silence with a bamboo steamer.]
Waitress: Pork shumai!
Molly: Thanks. Looks great.
[Molly tries to extend her friendliness across the table] Doesn’t it, Dad?
John: Sure. [To Molly] Although dim sum isn’t Szechuan cuisine.
[Molly sighs] (2)

[After years of therapy, she’s learned to let go of this shit. Dangling his approval while belittling her with low expectations led to years of, shall we say, bad relationships. She’s learned to uncouple her suffering from their satisfaction. She hasn’t seen John in two years.]

JOHN: Work good? [He pops a dumpling into his mouth]
M: Busy. [She checks her phone. Nothing.] Oof. Yeah sorry I have to get back soon.
JOHN: Big shot. Last I heard from your mom she said you got promoted.
M: Chief resident.
JOHN: You get it from me. [Points to head] Science.

[John clears his throat.]
JOHN: You were never...mechanically inclined until I-
[He starts coughing.]
M: You okay, Dad?
JOHN: It...said...pork! Was there...sh...sh?
M: Drink some water.
JOHN: She...shel...??
M: Shellfish? Shrimp - yes that’s what shumai is.
[He looks frantic...

M: I didn’t know you were allergic!
J: New...th...thing!
[He pads his pocket for the epipen his doctor gave him in case this happened again. With huge relief, he procures it and waves it at his daughter.]
J: Please! I d...don’t...
M: You don’t know how to use it?
[John winces...

[She turns the epipen over in her hands a few times. She looks at her father. He’s still getting words out. He has another hour, easily. He’s looking at her with pleading eyes. She slides the pen toward him across the table.]
MOLLY: Let’s make this an allegory of triumph.
(END)