Fake Taxi - Kristine Apr 2026

(Pauses, then sighs) Fine. I don’t care anymore. Just get me there.

Long silence. Kristine looks at her broken shoe, then at the driver’s confident, calm face.

(The scene continues in the back seat. Kristine starts off hesitant, still talking about her presentation, but slowly gives in as the driver takes control. Her blazer comes off. Then the blouse. The camera catches her biting her lip, then finally laughing—a real, relaxed laugh.)

Tell you what. I know a shortcut. Gets you there in eight minutes. But it’s a private route. Not on the meter.

(Smirks) Very. And very quiet. No traffic, no cameras.

(Arms crossed) Look, I don’t have cash for a scam. I have a corporate card and zero patience.

(Suspicious, but desperate) How private?

I don’t want your cash. I want you to relax. You’re about to combust. When’s the last time someone took care of you ?

(Glances in rearview mirror) Where to, love?

(Laughs bitterly) You have no idea. My taxi canceled, my co-presenter called in sick, and now my heel is broken. (She kicks off a shoe.) I’m about two seconds from just… walking into the Thames.

(Flustered, clutching a briefcase) Just over to Canary Wharf. And please… step on it. My meeting started ten minutes ago. I swear, if I miss this pitch…