Commercial pitch: Zero Worries
City noise. Crying baby. Barking dog. View of skyline, pan down through smog to street view.
A hot, sweltering summer day. A city bus is stopped at a street corner to pick up passengers. We see the back of a small child’s head standing In front of the bus doors. It’s a little girl. She has a pale yellow dress on and pigtails that bounce with her strawberry hair. She’s carrying a pink and white polka dot backpack. She’s holding hands with her excessively old grandmother. Ridiculously old. Cloris Leachman old.
The bus driver is a portly white man, sweat stains his shirt and drips from his sideburns. He looks annoyed. His skin is dimpled, pox scarred. He resembles Steve Bannon after a Thanksgiving feast, a meat sweat coma imminent. The heat isn’t helping his mood as he dabs at sweat with a dirty handkerchief.
The child steps up to get in the bus but she stops suddenly when the bus driver adjusts his rear view. mirror to see the passenger behind him, sitting in the front row. The driver locks eyes with the woman in front.
“Back of the bus! Like I tole’ ya before!”
Fade to woman in front row. Pan up to reveal Oprah’s face under gray wig and thick glasses. It’s Oprah Fucking Winfrey.
The woman in the front of the bus doesn’t reply. She sits still, hands gripped firmly on her purse on her lap. She’s wearing a beige rain coat despite the temperature. She’s not sweating. She’s cool as a cucumber. The little girl looks back to the woman, then to the driver who is barking orders that sound a lot like Archie Bunker whining.
“Lady, back of the bus!! I don’t make the rules but I gotta enforce ‘em’. Come on, eh?”
The child knows what’s happening. She looks up at her elderly companion to see fret, pain, worry on her face. The child knows this moment has happened before and it will happen again unless she can stop it for good.
The bus driver bellows. The crowd on the bus grows angry. Some shout to move the bus to cool it off. Some shout to let the old woman in front sit wherever she pleases. Some shout about making America great again.
Pan out from bus. Raise volume on cacophony of passengers. Fade to background noise. Cue emotional music and pan back to child’s back.
Child digs into backpack and smiles as she finds the answer to this immense adult issue.
Child pulls out a can of Coke Zero. She offers it to the driver who smiles sheepishly as he is humbled by a child’s heart. He sees the error of his ways and gestures to the woman. The child then offers the woman the cold Coke Zero and the woman takes it. Before she opens it, the cameras pan out to reveal Richard Spencer hiding in the second row, his froggie lapel pin hidden by his overcoat, despite the blazing heat.
Oprah then offers the Coke Zero to Spencer who smiles and sheds his Nazi-like coat and messes up his alt-right hair. He takes a gulp and the child’s old lady companion grins down in awe and joy.
Voiceover: “Your move now, Jolt Cola.”
“Wait, wait, officers, I’m sure someone has a Pepsi!”