The Olive Oil Hijacker

Int. Plane– Day

A flight attendant makes her way down the aisle, passing out meals. Finally she arrives at the last  seat with a man, KYLE and his teenage daughter, STELLA, who is checked out with her airpods in. 

KYLE [rubbing hands together]

Oh yes. This is it. One chicken, please.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT [glancing down at cart]

No more chicken. 

KYLE [visibly disappointed, with much less enthusiasm]

Alright. No chicken. I guess I’ll take the pasta then. 

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

No pasta. 

KYLE

But those are all the meal options.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

We’re out. 

KYLE [growing frustrated]

Fine. Do you at least have the sides? Can I get bread and some olive oil?

FLIGHT ATTENDANT 

Bread and olive oil (hands over these items). For the kid?

KYLE taps STELLA and is ignored. He does this again and she whips around, pulling her headphones off/out.

STELLA Dad, can you stop? I’m literally doing something. 

Headphones back in, she returns to staring blankly ahead of her. KYLE sighs. 

KYLE She’ll also have the bread and olive oil. 

These items are passed. KYLE pauses, looking at them.

KYLE 

You have any extra olive oil?

The FLIGHT ATTENDANT hands him one. The olive oil comes in packets, kind of like ketchup packets. 

KYLE

Any more? You know, we’re the last seat. You can just give us all the olive oil. 

FLIGHT ATTENDANT I’m not going to do that.

She walks away. KYLE immediately squeezes a pack of olive oil over his roll and eats it. The oil drips over onto the tray. He then hits his “help button.” FLIGHT ATTENDANT reappears, glaring. 

KYLE Another pack, please.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT sighs.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

Fine. 

She hands him one more. KYLE pours it over his daughter’s bread, eating that too. Olive oil is splattered around his tray table. He hits his help button again.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

Do you need something?

KYLE

Olive oil.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

You don’t have any bread. 

KYLE

I didn’t ask for bread. I asked for olive oil. 

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

I’m not going to give that to you. 

As she turns away. KYLE begins hitting the help button repeatedly, forcing FLIGHT ATTENDANT to turn around. 

FLIGHT ATTENDANT [with anger]

Do you need something? 

KYLE

Won’t stop until you hand it over. 

Unable to contain her frustration, FLIGHT ATTENDANT smacks the box of olive oil down KYLE’s tray table. He immediately brightens. 

KYLE 

Thank you very much, miss. 

She glares back at him, disappearing. Kyle begins to open packets of olive oil, squeezing them directly into his mouth. Another passenger, MR. DON  looks over and shudders, hitting his help button. He and FLIGHT ATTENDANT conspire momentarily before she returns to KYLE. 

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

You’re making other passengers uncomfortable. 

KYLE

Why, by eating olive oil?

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

By pouring it down your throat.

KYLE What, is that a crime? You gonna call the air marshal on me?

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

No, but–

KYLE Who complained? C’mon, tell me, who complained? 

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

Mr. Don, among others—

KYLE locks eyes on Mr. Don. He grabs an olive oil and squirts it across the aisle, hitting Mr. Don in the eye, who yelps in pain, clutching his eye and shoving napkins against it. 

FLIGHT ATTENDANT

Sir, this is unacceptable! I’m confiscating—

She tries to grab the container of olive oil, but before she can, KYLE takes out another packet and shoots it at her. Someone screams, people beginning to take notice. A passenger turns around. 

PASSENGER LADY

You’re behaving like a child—

Olive oil to the face. 

PASSENGER MAN

That’s my wife you just—

Olive oil to the face. Suddenly KYLE stands, grabbing his bin of olive oil.

KYLE Here’s how this is going to go. I eat my olive oil in peace— in fact, I walk off this plane, full of olive oil and with the rest stuffed into my bag. You all don’t get in my way— because if you do, I will not hesitate to hit every single one of you with olive oil. [pause] I will not hesitate. 

The people titter nervously, in fear. KYLE makes his way to the cockpit, but before he can get there, a man stands, holding out a badge. The air marshal. 

AIR MARSHAL

Not so fast, buddy. I spent my whole life training for people like you. 

KYLE stops. They face off.

KYLE There is no one like me. 

The two begin combat, both performing ridiculous parkour stunts. KYLE will backflip, shooting out olive oil, and AIR MARSHAL will leap over seats to dodge, leaving splats of olive oil on the wall. The plane watches on in fear. Suddenly, AIR MARSHAL will trip on the wheel of a bag left slightly in the aisle. People gasp and wail as he sprawls to the ground, completely at KYLE’s mercy. 

KYLE hoists him by the collar, holding him up in front of him. He grabs a packet of olive oil. 

KYLE

Any last words?

AIR MARSHAL spits in his face. KYLE simply wipes it away, then opens the pocket. AIR MARSHAL closes his eyes, bracing himself.

STELLA (off camera)

WAIT.

KYLE turns slowly. 

KYLE Stella?

STELLA Dad, you have to stop. You don’t love olive oil. You don’t need olive oil. 

KYLE 

Of course I need it, What else do I have?

STELLA You have me. [the people gasp]. You have all of us. [She gestures to the plane] 

KYLE 

Really?

STELLA Really. 

SHe hugs him, and he drops both AIR MARSHAL and the olive oil. Slowly,the other passengers hug KYLE too, even FLIGHT ATTENDANT and other victims. WHen they pull back, KYLE is teary eyed, hugging only STELLA. 

KYLE It’s been so hard, with you growing older, and I just feel so unseen—

STELLA Got him!

She is squeezing tightly. KYLE’S face becomes horrified as he realizes what’s happening. AIR MARSHAL steps forward, placing handcuffs on. 

KYLE Et tu, Stella?

STELLA Ew, Dad, whatever. [she returns to her seat, airpods back in]

AIR MARSHAL

Justice after all. 

The plane cheers.

End