Scene #6: The Last Flower of New Guinea

The year is 2087. Deep in the jungles of Upper New Guinea, scientists have just discovered the rarest plant on Earth: the Vita Orchid.

It heals like stem cells — but better. It can cure cancer. There is only one flower left. And tonight... everyone wants a piece of it.

I found her. I named her. I sang to her every single morning.

She is the last flower of her kind in the entire world... and I will protect her with my LIFE.

As a scientist, I can confirm the plant works because it is full of vitamins.

All of them. Even the ones that don't exist yet. Vitamin W.

Kornelia, that is not science. That is a horoscope with a lab coat.

In Turkey we have a saying: a rare flower is like good tea. If you find it, hide it from your relatives.

Also, I brought forty suitcases. Empty. For no reason. Please do not check them.

Quiet. The jungle dogs are talking to me. They say strangers are coming.

They also say Ada's suitcases smell like crime.

And the dogs were right. Out of the shadows stepped the most powerful — and most evil — woman on the planet.

Hello, little scientists. I am Ash. I own twelve countries, three oceans, and the concept of Tuesday.

Hand over the flower, and I promise to ruin only SOME of your lives.

And I am Rozh. I lost my leg to a crocodile in this exact jungle.

I came back for two things: revenge, and the flower. And maybe the leg, if I see it lying around.

Everyone STOP talking about medicine. That flower is MINE. I need it for my skin.

Cancer can wait. My wrinkles cannot.

Well, butter my biscuit! Y'all are fightin' like raccoons in a trash can.

My family owns the biggest pharmacy in the South. I'll buy that flower real polite — with a smile and a lawsuit.

You cannot BUY the flower. I have started a religion about it. We are the Petal People.

We meet on Thursdays. We hum at soil. Membership is mandatory. You are all already members.

I am the camp table. I have held your equipment for six hours.

Nobody has said thank you. Not once.

Silence! (she sits down on the table) Mmm. Comfortable.

Rozh — take the flower. Daddy needs a monopoly.

She owns twelve countries and she is sitting on me with all of them.

I am not a table anymore. I am a hostage with four legs.

You will have to go through me, Ash.

I did not survive three monsoons, two spider bites, and one PhD to lose her now!

Adorable speech. I own the company that made your microscope, the boots on your feet, and the air you are breathing.

The invoice is already in your inbox.

You cannot own air. Everybody knows air is a liquid.

If I cannot have that flower, then NOBODY gets clear skin.

I will scream until this entire jungle files a complaint.

In Turkey we have another saying: if a woman screams in a jungle... sell tickets.

Dogs! Attack plan number SEVEN!

That's the one where you lick the villain until he falls over!

No — not the licking! I only have one leg for balance — AAAH!

(he topples over in slow motion) Tell the crocodile... he wins again.

Ugh. Fine. If you want something done evil, you must do it yourself.

(she marches toward the flower) One flower. One owner. One price: everything.

I have been furniture this entire scene. But even a table has limits.

(she slides one wooden leg out) She never saw it coming.

And so, the most powerful woman on Earth... was defeated by a table.

Impossible... I conquered twelve countries... and I was betrayed... by FURNITURE?

Honey, down South we say: pride goes before a fall — and the fall goes right over a table.

Look at you all. Fighting over one flower like it belongs to any of us.

But while you were fighting... she bloomed. Look. Seeds. THOUSANDS of seeds. She was never mine to keep — she belongs to everyone.

The dogs volunteer to plant them in every jungle on Earth. They dig for free.

They demand cheese.

The Petal People accept these seeds as our new tiny gods.

Thursday humming is now twice a week. Attendance will be taken.

Fine. I will take ONE seed for my skin.

And one for cancer, I suppose. Since everyone is being so dramatic about it.

Rozh, take notes. Next year we invest in seeds... and we burn every table in my empire.

Yes, boss. Small idea: could we also invest in a leg?

Final scientific report: the flower contained friendship, seeds, and Vitamin W.

You're welcome, humanity.

And so the miracle plant spread across the Earth. Cancer met its match. The dogs got their cheese.

And somewhere in the jungle of Upper New Guinea... a proud table finally heard the words 'thank you.'

Thank you received. Table out.