First Contact at a Drive-Thru — 'Take Me to Your Fry Cook'

10-second deadpan cosmic comedy, 16:9, indie sci-fi. A burger joint drive-thru at night: a small saucer hovers into the lane, dwarfing the cars, and attempts first contact through the order speaker.

0-3s: Night, the menu board glowing, cars idling in the lane. The saucer descends — humming, rim lights cycling — and hovers into the drive-thru, dwarfing the sedans. Through the speaker, a translated voice booms across the lot: TAKE ME TO YOUR FRY COOK. Beat. The cashier, without missing a beat, crackling through the same speaker: "Is that a combo?" The saucer's lights stutter — the alien equivalent of blinking.

3-7s: The order. To study humans, the alien orders one of everything — the bags pile up at the window, handed up into the hovering saucer by a increasingly delighted crew, the saucer's tractor beam neatly stacking them. The alien attempts to pay with a moon rock, presented with ceremony; the manager examines it, shrugs, and accepts it as a tip, dropping it in the tip jar. The crew applauds.

7-10s: The review. The saucer rises, and beams a five-star review onto the drive-thru's sign — the stars burning briefly in light — before ascending. The cashier leans out the window, watching it go, and says to no one: "Best customer we've had all week."

Craft: the saucer with cycling rim lights and a tractor beam, the drive-thru's glowing menu board and speaker box, the piling bags; the moon rock's pitted gray, the beamed five stars. Camera: night-drive-thru noir framing, saucer-glow lighting on the lot, speaker-box close-ups, 40mm feel. Lighting: neon against deep night blue, the saucer's rim glow. Atmosphere: deadpan cosmic comedy, utterly sincere. Style: indie sci-fi short, night grade, photorealistic, 24fps.