Drop Beat Dad

[Open Ext. Onion's House]

(Sour Cream walks around from beside the house, greeting goodbye to Vidalia.)

SOUR CREAM: Later, Mom! Aw, yeah. This is gonna be sick.

(Sour Cream walks up to a cart wagon, filled with his music producing gear, and places his laptop inside.)

SOUR CREAM: Thanks again for helping me take all the stuff out, Steven.

(Steven emerges out of the garage holding a box labelled "DJ Gear".)

STEVEN: No problem! I've always wanted to be a roadie. Whether they're lifting the heaviest еquipment, fighting off crazy fans, or just offering moral support. Roadies work bеhind the scenes to make all magic onstage possible.

SOUR CREAM: I only really needed the lifting, but I guess we'll see what happens tonight. Woah!

(Steven, with just one hand, hands Sour Cream the box, and he almost drops it, not expecting its heavy weight. He places the box inside the cart wagon, when Yellowtail returns, carrying a briefcase filled with fishes. Yellow notices Sour Cream with his music equipment and drops his briefcase in shock. He then starts chiding Sour Cream in his own murmur language.)

SOUR CREAM: No, I can't be back before 10:00. I'm doing a show tonight, Yellowtail.

(Yellowtail keeps chiding Sour Cream.)

SOUR CREAM: It is too a viable career! 80 percent of Germans make their living deejaying! Why can't you just accept that I don't want to be a fishermen like you? stomps off in frustration

STEVEN: Ahhhh, bye Yellowtail.

(Steven starts pushing the cart wagon and chases up to Sour Cream. Yellowtail then greets Steven goodbye unenthusiastically.)

STEVEN: You okay, Sour Cream?

SOUR CREAM: Yeah. I just can't deal with my stepdad on my case all the time. Why would I want to bring home fish when I can bring home sick beats? If he has to "ma-ma-ma" so much about it, he doesn't have to come.

(The duo then passes by It's a Wash, when Sour Cream halts the cart wagon.)

SOUR CREAM: Ugh. All that arguing messed up my stomach. I'm gonna go use the bathroom.

(Sour Cream runs off towards the car wash, when Greg, holding a sponge and hose, runs towards Steven.)

GREG: Wait! Don't leave! Waxing is free! Oh. What's up, schtu-ball?

STEVEN: Just helping Sour Cream take his gear to the warehouse.

GREG: Oh, like a roadie, huh?

STEVEN: Yeah! W-what about you?

GREG: Ahh, Same-old, same-old. Not too busy.

STEVEN: Don't worry. I'm sure it'll pick up soon.

GREG: Thanks, kiddo.

(Just then, a large yellow-colored bus stops in front of the car wash.)

GREG: Woah! Look at the size of that thing. Steven, don't tell them about the free wax.

(Greg walks up to the bus holding out his hose, but a middle-aged man, sporting an expensive and exquisite outfit, steps out of the bus.)

GREG: Marty?

STEVEN: You mean your rotten old manager? I'll protect you, Dad!

GREG: Eh, Don't worry. I got a hose.

MARTY: So... chuckles* This is where you work now, Star Child? A rundown old car wash? Guess the music biz wasn't as good to you as it's been to me. *glances at his shiny bus

GREG: Uh, hey, Marty. Long time, no see. This is my son, Steven.

MARTY: Woah! Guess I'll call you Star Child Jr.

(Marty starts laughing, as Steven shields his eyes from all the light reflection from Marty's outfit.)

STEVEN: Ugh.

GREG: Anyway, uh, things are totally fine here in old Beach City, but, uh, if you need me to wash that huge bus of yours, it'd probably help me out. winks and chuckles

MARTY: Listen, Star Child. I can do you one better than a carwash. You and I have some unfinished business.

(Marty proceeds to pull out an envelope from his jacket, when Sour Cream returns.)

SOUR CREAM: Eh, sorry, Mr. U. I totally clogged up your toi- Woah! Dad?!

MARTY: Sour Cream?

SOUR CREAM: W-What are you doing here?

MARTY: Uh... keeps the envelop S.C. Oof! Just look at you. When did you get so tall?

SOUR CREAM: Uh, like nine years ago.

MARTY: Whoa! chuckles nervously and clears his throat* Sorry I've been gone so long, but you know how the music biz can be, riiight? *brushes his hair anxiously

SOUR CREAM: No. Can you tell me about it?

MARTY: Well, you see, the music industry is like a big bee hive or factory where...

(Steven stares at Marty and Sour Cream as Marty's explanation fades into the background.)

STEVEN: Man... I can't believe they're related.

GREG: You don't see the resemblance?

(Steven starts examining the similarities between Marty and Sour Cream.)

MARTY: Also, in the Biz, they make it really hard to have any free time at all. You gotta work long hours...

STEVEN: Kinda?

MARTY: ...every day, and on weekends.

STEVEN: Hey, Sour Cream. Sorry to interrupt, but should I haul your equipment over to the warehouse while you catch up with your dad?

MARTY: What's this about equipment? notices the cart wagon* Hello! What do you got going on over here, my friend? *walks towards the cart wagon

SOUR CREAM: Just getting ready to set up for this semi-annual DJ night rave thing I do in Beach City.

MARTY: A rave, you say? Hmm... snaps his fingers with an inspiration S.C., I have a great idea. I've decided to hang out in Beach City and, um... make up for lost time with you. And while we're... chillin', I'll promote your little engagement.

(Marty hands Sour Cream a black card.)

SOUR CREAM: What's this shiny card with your contact info on it?

MARTY: Just a little something we pro music types call, a laminated business card.

SOUR CREAM: ... That is so legit!

MARTY: Man, you're so lucky your dad's in the biz. Throwing a cool semi-annual DJ rave thing is a classic father-son bonding experience.

SOUR CREAM: More classic than fishing?

MARTY: Just wait! We're gonna cram nine years of bonding into one spectacular event!

(Steven watches with concerns as Marty speaks with his son.)

[Trans. Int. Abandoned Warehouse]

(Steven, Sour Cream and Marty arrive at the warehouse, and Marty looks around the place in dismay.)

MARTY: This is it? It's so... puny. looks at one of Sour Cream's music-making consoles I mean, what is this? A concert for ants?

STEVEN: We can invite some ants.

SOUR CREAM: Aunts, uncles; music is for everybody.

MARTY: Listen, buddy, you want to reach people, right? wraps his arm around Sour Cream

SOUR CREAM: Yeah.

MARTY: You want to hold them in your little hand, right?

SOUR CREAM: Uh... I guess so.

MARTY: You want to squeeze them until their eyes pop out! pretends to squeeze Steven with his fist

SOUR CREAM: Uh, you lost me a little.

MARTY: What I'm saying is, if you want to bring people in, you can't play out in the sticks! You got to be where the people are!

[Trans. Beach]

(Marty leads Sour Cream and Steven to the wide beach.)

MARTY: Now this is more like it! We'll set up right here in the sand.

STEVEN: clears his throat As Sour Cream's roadie, I have to voice my concern. You threw a show here on the beach for my dad, and judging from what he said, you didn't do a good job at all.

MARTY: Okay. Can I real-talk with you for a second? pulls Steven and Sour Cream into a huddle Real talk. I made a lot of mistakes before, when I was your dad's manager, and- Real talk? I was a jerk. but- Real talk! I've learned a lot about myself and the music business since then. So I can tell you, with certainty, things aren't gonna be like last time. Real talk.

SOUR CREAM: Wow, Yellowtail never real-talks with me.

MARTY: That's what it's like to work with a professional, kid. Now, hold on. I'm gonna work some magic.

(Marty pulls out his phone and calls for someone.)

MARTY: Marty here. Talk to me. Yeah, I know I called you...

(Steven and Sour Cream exchanges looks, with Sour Cream smiling.)

[Trans. Ext. Water Tower]

(Marty leads Sour Cream and Steven to the water tower in Beach City, while covering Sour Cream's eyes.)

MARTY: Okay. you ready? removes his hand off Sour Cream's eyes Boom!

(Marty reveals to Sour Cream a giant advertisement poster covering the water tower, advertising DJ Sour Cream and his rave on the beach.)

SOUR CREAM: Wow! Am I... glowing?

MARTY: That's right. nothing less for my talented, soon-to-be-famous DJ. lightly punches Sour Cream in his chest

[Trans. Ext. Marty's Bus]

(Marty opens the compartments of his bus and reveals the contents inside to Sour Cream and Steven.)

MARTY: Check this out, broski.

SOUR CREAM: Wow! takes out and examines a music equipment I've only seen gear this good on the internet. Is this for me?

MARTY: It's for us, my main cool cat!

SOUR CREAM: Wow. I can totally rave to this.

STEVEN: It looks like you're all set on roadies, huh? Guess I'll just carry myself home.

MARTY: Hey, Star Child Jr., catch!

(Marty throws a tag and lanyard in Steven's face and he catches it, revealing to be an official roadie tag.)

MARTY: You're in the big leagues now, little roadie.

(Steven happily puts the tag around his neck and runs to the bus to help. He then pulls out a seemingly heavy gigantic box from the bus compartment and carries it with ease.)

MARTY: Geez! What does Greg feed that kid?!

SOUR CREAM: Uh...

MARTY: Hey, Let me rap with you about the set up I have envisioned, okay?

SOUR CREAM: Okay!

MARTY: So, the stage is gonna be huge, and the speakers, even huger...

(Marty's explanation fades into the background as Steven puts the heavy box down alongside the other equipment. He looks Marty talking with his son and then stares into the sunset in the ocean, where he spot Yellowtail sailing by in his fishing boat, glancing through his binoculars to spy on Sour Cream with worry.)

[Time Skip - Evening]

(The citizens of Beach City, including Yellowtail, are gathered in front of Marty's bus, modeled into a stage. They begin mumbling among themselves as Steven appears on-stage to adjust the microphone stand.)

STEVEN: Don't mind me, folks! Just a humble roadie doing a mic check. inspects the microphone stand This mic looks great!

(Steven walks off of the stage and towards Sour Cream standing beside the stage.)

STEVEN: Hey, Sour Cream, we're ready to go whenever you are.

SOUR CREAM: Okay, I guess I'll go out and get started.

(Marty then pops in from behind Sour Cream and wraps his arm around him.)

MARTY: That's not how we do things in the music biz. Let a proper hype man set the stage for you. begins walking onto the stage

SOUR CREAM: Woah. I've never been properly hyped before. Thanks, Dad!

(Marty does a backward moonwalk and finger-gun gesture at Sour Cream. The crowd begins to cheer as Marty walks up to the microphone.)

RANDOM CITIZEN: It's some guy!

MARTY: How's it go- Is this mic even on? turns on the microphone How you feeling, Beach Ci-taay!

(The crowd cheers.)

MARTY: You know, I've always been someone with good tastes, so you got to believe me. This show is special to me. It's personal.

(Steven happily nudges Sour Cream with his elbow.)

MARTY: Because I want to introduce you to a fresh, raw experience, to a whole new flavor.

(Sour Cream smiles with anticipation.)

MARTY: To a brand new... Soda!

SOUR CREAM: dismayed What!?

MARTY: GUAAACOLA!!

(Suddenly, the text "Guacola" flashes on an electric billboard on the bus in green neon, and the other roadies uncover giant Guacola can speakers at the side of the stage. The crowd looks around and mumbles in confusion, as air horns blare in the background.)

MARTY: That's right. Guacola! The world's first guacamole soda. Each can comes with the power of three whole avocados! Now, come on, Beach City. Are you ready to guac?

(Marty starts throwing cans of Guacola at the crowd. Ronaldo gets hit in the stomach by one, and Jenny catches one. Steven opens a can and takes a sip, which he immediately spits out in disgust.)

STEVEN: Ugh! This is terrible! What the- reads the description on the can "From concentrate"!?

(Disgust arises in the crowd as everyone reacts to the disgusting Guacola. Jenny pours hers out and a slimy green oozes out of the can.)

BUCK: Aww, that's nasty.

(Ronaldo groans as he pours Guacola on a bowl of Chaaaaps and attempts to eat it.)

RONALDO: Ugh! spits out the mush in his mouth and smashes the Chaaaaps And it's not even good on Chaaaaps!

(Onion drinks the Guacola, seemingly unaffected by its revolting taste and even enjoying it. Steven then runs up to Greg and Yellowtail as the crowd falls into chaos.)

STEVEN: Dad!

GREG: Steven, is this gross-out drink part of Sour Cream's show?

STEVEN: No way, dad! it's all Marty!

(Yellowtail seemingly murmurs Marty's name in anger and slams his fist into his palm. He then sprints away towards his fishing boat.)

GREG: Yellowtail, wait! Sour Cream needs you!

(Marty covers the microphone as Sour Cream approaches him.)

MARTY: What are you waiting for? Start playing.

SOUR CREAM: Dad, you're ruining my show!

MARTY: This isn't your show. How do you think we have this setup, this party bus, these roadies? I've gotta good deal with Guacola. You're lucky I'm letting you in on the ground floor.

SOUR CREAM: But I thought this was about making up for lost time, not some lame soda.

MARTY: Look, kid, I need this Guacola deal, okay? Don't be selfish!

(Sour Cream gets infuriated and starts shouting back at Marty in the same murmur language as Yellowtail's, pointing an accusatory finger at Marty.)

MARTY: What did you say?

SOUR CREAM: blushes, as he stops speaking in murmurs Ugh, I said I don't need you or Guacola to do what I wanna do! I never have! I can do this show on my own!

MARTY: Fine.

(Marty uncovers the microphone, causing small feedback in the speakers, and walks offstage.)

MARTY: Hey, Universe, I only came here because I'm legally obligated to give you this. hands Greg the envelope from before

GREG: Huh?

MARTY: Don't say I've never gave you nothin'. walks back onto the bus

(Greg inspects the envelope, labelled "Starchild", as Marty starts up the bus and drives off. Steven and Sour Cream then walk up to Greg's side, looking rather disappointed.)

SOUR CREAM: Well, I guess that's it. So much for me and the music biz.

STEVEN: I'm sorry, Sour Cream.

(Horns noises is then heard in the distances.)

GREG: What's that noise?

(Yellowtail is seen speeding towards the group in one of his boats, raising one of his arms up in the air to get their attention.)

SOUR CREAM: Aw, man! it's my stepdad. He was just waiting for me to fail so he can get me and put me to work on his boat.

(Sour Cream flails his arms up in the air in defeat as he walks towards Yellowtail, landing on the shore with his boat.)

SOUR CREAM: Fine. Take me to your big smelly boat so I can fish my life away!

(Yellowtail climbs out of his boat and lifts out a box, containing various equipment.)

SOUR CREAM: It's... my old gear?

(Yellowtail holds out the box of music equipment to Sour Cream.)

SOUR CREAM: What? You want me to play?

(Yellowtail gently places the box on the ground, allowing Sour Cream to retrieve it.)

SOUR CREAM: Gee... uh... thanks, Yellow Dad.

(Sour Cream offers a handshake to Yellowtail, but he walks forth and gives Sour Cream a hug instead. Sour Cream then laughs in response.)

SOUR CREAM: Good one, Dad! turns to Steven Hey, Steven, since you're still my official roadie, help me set up.

STEVEN: Yeah!

[Time Skip]

(Sour Cream's DJ stage is set up on the beach, with Yellowtail's boat providing the lights.)

DJ SOUR CREAM: Let's kick it!

(DJ Sour Cream scatters glow sticks around and begins to play. The crowd slowly returns and begins to rave to the beat. Sour Cream's family also joins in the party; Vidalia and Yellowtail dance in support of their son, while Onion is still drinking a can of Guacola. Steven and Greg watch on the rave in content.)

GREG: You know, the music biz can be really tricky.

STEVEN: I'm sure Sour Cream will make it big on his own.

GREG: nonchalantly begins to open his envelope* Even if he doesn't make it big, Sour Cream'll be okay, as long as he's doing something that makes him happy. *holds up a slip from the envelop* Eh, you know, it's not about the mone-eeyeeeeeeeeee...! *glares at the slip in shock

STEVEN: Dad?

(Greg smiles and pulls Steven for a hug, showing him a check slip. Steven gasps loudly in response.)

STEVEN: Ten million dollars?! You're rich!

[END]