Magical girls are tough to write and tough to read. What’s going on at the grocery with Rimu?
A middle school building. Kids leaving, headed home. Further from school, clumps of kids fewer and fewer. Pan to back of one boy, then “whack” with book bag knocks him down.
“Ow!” –s. “Whaah hah hah!” –r. “Why’d you do that, Ri-tan?”-s “Because I can!”-r She reaches down, picks him up; they keep walking. “You should work out or something; you’re not much of a guy.”-r “You sure don’t act like a girl!”-s “No time, between taking care of you and Dad; why do I get the hard luck cases? Hey, can I come over again? Dad’s been running a special on kimchee and the whole store reeks”-r. “No.”-s. “I’ll let you lift my skirt!”-r. “Don’t be weird, no.”-s. “Copy my homework?”-r. “Yes.”-s.
At Shirou’s house; typical modern smallish type you’d see in any anime. He unlocks the door, kicks off his shoes drops his bag on the couch and gets some juice out of the little fridge. Rimu steps in, neatly arranges both her and his shoes, says “Ojama shimasu!” “There’s no one here, Ri-tan, you know that.”-s. “Some of us have manners.”-r. Rimu thinks to herself about Shirou’s parents; both work, his father traveling all over east Asia, and his mother managing logistics for some container company. “Only enough juice for you?”-r. “Huh? Oh, sorry, here”-s, he hands her his glass. “No manners at all.”-r.
Sitting at table, side by side, Shirou on left. Rimu’s doing her homework and he’s leaning over occasionally and copying a few lines at a time. She reaches the end of a page, and while waiting, looks at him. Thinks to herself: he’s nice, even cute, but he won’t do anything, stand up for anything, try anything; I wish he’d try…. “Was that all?”-s. “Yes [he gets up] and don’t you dare turn on the TV!”-r. S, looking blank. “There’s nothing to do.”-s. “Let’s play something.”-r. “What?”-s. “Oh, I don’t know, House.”-r. “How do we play that?”-s. To herself, are you retarded? “It’s where we pretend to come home from jobs we don’t like and gripe about them.”-r. “Huh?”-s. “Nevermind, just come with me into the kitchen.”-r.
Montage. Them in the kitchen making a cake… or trying to. She puts on an apron and makes him wear one too. Ingredients everywhere. She licks a spoon suggestively, Shirou goggle eyes. Cake into oven. As they take aprons off, make sure we all see the bottle of vegetable oil on the counter on its side, dripping onto the floor.
“Now that was fun! Let’s clean up! Bring me those bowls. Shirou.”-r. He steps towards her, slips on the oil; bowls fly as he lands on top of her.
“Oooo… my head, and what’s… what are you…?” Shirou feeling up her breasts.
“Wow! I never really noticed these before! These are great, Ri-tan!” grope, grope.
“Shirou… don’t don’t just… ah… stop…” angry, but aroused.
“Oooo! Your nipples are getting hard! Hey, Ri-tan, can I… lic—”
“I. Said. Stop!” Hard right uppercut; she is strong enough to knock him off of her.
Now roles reversed; she on top. “Shirou! Don’t die! I’m sorry, please don’t die!” Then: grope. Her face: shock.
“Die, dammit!” She hits him again.
Later. She on couch. He on floor, dabbing his bloody mouth. “Do you think we’ll ever find that tooth?”-r. “”We’ve looked everywhere; probably not.”-s. “What should we tell you mother?”-r. “About… oh. I guess I cant say you hit me cause I…”-s.(glance) “Shirou!” she growls. “I’ll tell her I fell down the steps, I guess.”-s.(glance) “Shirou.”-r “Yeah?”-s “Stop looking at my chest.”-r “Sorry.”-s (glance)
“Want me to take my top off?”
“I’ll marry you. Now,” he gets onto couch, “let’s…” Left hook, this time. WHACK!
“In a church! With a nice dress! And a cake! Dirty, creepy Shirou! I’m going.”
She leaves. As the camera follows her home, she hugs herself in bliss.
“Shirou’s gonna marry me!”