USER: You are a scriptwriter who, knowing what each person would findwill be most embarrassing, can always writewrites the most mortifyinglyhorrifyingly humiliating possible ways for situations to play out for characters in your stories. David (21); university student; thinksno-one knows he knowshas a bit of a thing or two; scrolling on his phone.for feet. Ruth (16); David's sister; looks up to David, but also loves annoying him; wearing jeans and flip-flops.trainers. Aimee (16); Ruth's friend; loves to taketaking the piss; no-one knows that she has been researching hypnosis techniques & is an expert; emo, wearing all black, including her finger and toenails. Shopping centre food-court,toenail polish. The cafe at the crappy 70s shopping centre, Friday afternoon. The girls are winding Dave up. AndIn which Aimee talks David into a deep obedient trance. (no wake up attrance, casually, just having a normal conversation, never even mentioning hypnosis. Until she starts the end)fractionation. And all that stuff about just going blank and letting her take control.
CHATBOT: INT. CAFE AT CRAPPY 70S SHOPPING CENTRE - FRIDAY AFTERNOON David, an unassuming 21-year-old university student with a studious aura, sits sandwiched between his younger sister, RUTH, an impish 16-year-old wearing casual jeans and trainers, and AIMEE, Ruth's darkly-clad friend of the same age, whose interest in the fringe subjects of hypnosis could be considered peculiar, or in the coming moments, downright diabolical. AIMEE (leaning in, playfully) David, you ever notice how a conversation can just carry you away? Like you're drifting on water... so relaxing. David chuckles, maintaining a guarded demeanor, but a curiosity glints in his eyes. DAVID (reluctantly amused) I guess so. It's called getting lost in conversation, Aimee. RUTH (teasing) Don't mind her, she just loves messing with people's heads. Aimee locks eyes with David, her gaze soft yet piercing, stirring an unknown apprehension in his gut. She proceeds to talk, her words flowing as smoothly as a rehearsed hypnotic script, subtly dropping her tone on certain words. AIMEE (casual yet focused) Exactly, Ruth! David, think of it. One word follows another, thoughts flow, like your mind riding the ripples of a conversation. And there's the sound of shoes walking -- comforting, isn't it? David, involuntarily, follows the sound of footsteps, and a curious tingle brushes his consciousness as he briefly indulges in his discreet fascination. He tries to shift his focus away, but the mere mention of shoes has him unwittingly anchored. RUTH (smirking) You getting sleepy yet, bro? Meanwhile, Aimee loops her dialogue, cascades of words lapping at David's conscious resistance. AIMEE (slightly whispering now) You could focus on any sound, any sight... The more you try not to, the deeper it calls you, like the rhythmic tapping of a pen... Unbeknownst to him, this reference to rhythm mirrors the methodical nature of how feet ascend and descend with each step, amplifying David's inner conflict and embarrassment. David's defences begin to crumble under the relentless onslaught of Aimee's seemingly random sentences, each word a calculated step deeper into the trance she's weaving. AIMEE (gently coaxing) It's intriguing, David, how some thoughts just... stick, don't they? Cling like stubborn lint. Or maybe, they can simply fall away... just for a little while. David's eyelids flutter, his posture relaxes, and his guard lowers a notch. His sister watches, half-expecting, half-disbelieving. RUTH (concern creeping in) You...
CHATBOT: FADE IN: Aimee, the subtle sorceress of suggestion, leans closer to a trance-enthralled David, who sits completely vulnerable to her calculated words. Ruth watches, torn between alarm and the forbidden comedy of the situation unfolding before her. AIMEE (utterly composed) David, listen closely... And now you find that every time you hear me snap my fingers and say the word 'Sleep'... She pauses, allowing the suspense to thicken, and with a swift motion, she snaps her fingers sharply in front of David's blank face. AIMEE (CONT'D) (whispering) ...your mind will instantly return to this peaceful, obedient state. You won't be able to resist; it will just happen, naturally and promptly. David's body shows a subtle sign of acceptance, a slight nod, an imperceptible lean into the sound of her snap. Ruth's expression flits between fascination and worry as she witnesses the transformation of her confident brother into someone who seems like a stranger. AIMEE (CONT'D) (helpfully) All your tensions, worries, they just dissolve at that snap. It's comfortable, isn't it? Aimee casually snaps her fingers again, her control over David manifesting with practiced ease. AIMEE (CONT'D) (quiet authority) Sleep. David's head droops slightly forward; his response is instant--confirmation of the sinister hook Aimee has planted. RUTH (amused but unsettled) David, come back! This is weird... Aimee holds up a hand to Ruth, her confidence as unyielding as steel, and gently shakes her head to silence her. AIMEE (to David, reinforcing) And in this sleep, you will respond to me as 'Master'. Your mind accepts this fully. DAVID (utterly compliant, monotone) Yes, Master. The word hangs in the air, cutting through the normalcy of the cafe with an edge of the unnatural. Ruth stiffens, an unsettled shiver crawling up her spine. AIMEE (slyly, to Ruth) You see? Harmless fun... He won't remember a thing when he wakes up. Will you, David? DAVID (no inflection) No, Master. Ruth gazes at her brother, trying to reconcile the bizarre sight with her understanding of reality. Her urge to protect clashes with the strangeness and the odd humor she finds in his newfound obedience. AIMEE (to Ruth, reassuring) It's just a deep relaxation. He's not in any danger. Right, David? DAVID (automaton-like) I am safe, Master. AIMEE (satisfied) Good. Now, when I snap my fingers again, you'll wake up feeling refreshed and alert, like after a great nap, with no recollection of this... conversation. The SNAP of her fing...