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Before the Torture: aka Arrival
INT. AIRPLANE – DAY
I sit uncomfortably in my seat, squirming while the air conditioning fails to combat the suffocating heat. Sweat drips down my forehead, hence I can feel my body temperature rising to dangerously high levels. The flight attendant walks by, offering cool water and ice packs to passengers. I greedily snatch them up, desperately trying to cool myself down.
EXT. TOCUMEN INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – DAY
The plane finally lands, and I stumble off, feeling weak and disoriented. As I walk through the airport, the heat hits me like a ton of bricks, instantly causing my body to recoil. I can practically hear the sizzling of my skin, following my way towards the exit.
EXT. TAXI RANK – DAY
I hail a taxi, hoping to escape the blistering heat. The driver turns to me, a grin spreading across his face. He subsequently begins speaking rapidly in Spanish, his words dripping with a welcoming tone. I strain to understand, but my limited grasp of the language leaves me feeling vulnerable and exposed.
INT. TAXI – DAY
I sit in the backseat while my heart blasts my chest. The taxi driver continues his ominous monologue, his words echoing in my ears. I grip the seat, feeling the tension build with each passing second. I desperately search for a way to become bilingual, but there’s no escape.
EXT. CASCO VIEJO – DAY
The taxi screeches to a halt, and I stumble out, bidding a hasty farewell to my linguistic torture. As I step onto the cobblestone streets of Casco Viejo, I breathe a sigh of relief. The heat still lingers, but the torture of the journey is finally behind me.
FADE OUT.
Back when Dreams still existed: The Casco Viejo
EXT. CASCO VIEJO – DAY
Firstly, I step into the mesmerizing world of Casco Viejo, the historic district of Panama City. The humid air slaps me in the face like a fiery demon. Sweat pours down my body as a result, creating a river of desperation. But even in my agony, I can’t help but marvel at the breathtaking beauty that surrounds me.
The architecture of Casco Viejo is like a dream. The pastel-colored buildings stand tall, adorned with ornate balconies and intricate details. Each street corner reveals a new wonder, a new piece of history waiting to be discovered.
As I stumble along the cobblestone streets, an array of stalls and shops catch my eye. They offer a treasure trove of souvenirs, tempting me to spend my dwindling energy on trinkets and mementos. Cafes emit the tantalizing aroma of incredible coffee, luring me in with the promise of a moment of respite.
Casco Viejo is a place of contrasts. While it still embodies its rich heritage, it is also undergoing a transformation. Restoration projects breathe new life into its worn facades, while trendy hotels, cafes, and restaurants emerge like phoenixes from the ashes.
In this sweltering paradise, where every step is a test of endurance, Casco Viejo still remains a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. It is a place where dreams still exist, in the vibrant colors, the whispers of history, and the promise of a brighter future.
FADE OUT.
When my Skin began to Melt: Waterfront
EXT. HOT AND HUMID CASCO VIEJO – DAY
I step further out onto the waterfront of Casco Viejo, scorching heat hitting me like a punch in the face. My skin begins to melt, or at least it feels like it. But I soldier on, determined to explore this historic area of Panama City.
The sweat trickles down my forehead, my clothes clinging to my body. It’s as if the universe has decided to turn up the heat just to mess with me. But amidst the agony, I can’t help but marvel at the sights before me.
The waterfront connects Casco Viejo to the modern city, offering a picturesque view of the sparkling bay. I drag myself to the restaurants and cafes lining the waterfront, hoping to find solace in cool drinks and air conditioning. But it’s an illusion. The air is heavy with humidity, and even the drinks mock me, their ice melting before my eyes.
I force a smile, pretending I’m having the time of my life as if my skin isn’t slowly melting off my bones. But deep down, I know this is pure hell, a fever dream that I can’t escape. My only company on this torturous journey is my own delirium.
As I stumble along the waterfront, my body protesting every maneuver, I can’t help but wonder if this is how I’ll go down in history. Not as a hero, not as a martyr, but as a sweaty, pitiful mess in the sweltering heat of Panama City.
FADE OUT.
The suffering continues: Food and Fear
INT. ETHNIC CAFE – DAY
I continue my journey through the scorching heat of Panama City, my body drenched in sweat and my mind on the brink of collapse. Every step feels like a trudge through molten lava, my limbs heavy and my vision blurred. But I soldier on, determined to find respite from this torturous inferno.
Amidst the anguish, I stumble upon a restaurant, like an oasis in the desert of my despair. I venture in, seeking solace in the promise of air conditioning and cool drinks. The aroma of food fills the air, momentarily lifting my spirits.
I take a seat and order Ropa Vieja, a traditional Panamanian dish. The waiter brings it to me, and as I take my first bite, it’s as if a symphony of flavors erupts in my mouth. The tender meat, and the rich spices, it is a moment of culinary bliss amidst the heat-induced turmoil.
For a brief moment, the pain subsides, replaced by the sheer delight of a delicious meal. The food becomes my refuge, a temporary escape from the relentless torment. With every bite, my mind clears, and a flicker of hope ignites within me.
But as I finish my meal, reality crashes back in. The scorching heat still awaits me outside, ready to resume its assault on my senses. The respite was fleeting, a mere illusion. And so, I push onwards, ready to face the next wave of suffering that this unforgiving city has in store.
Eyes Fading: The Modern City
EXT. A SKYSCRAPER-LADEN SECTION OF PANAMA CITY – DAY
I am a lone traveler, wandering through the blazing streets of Panama City. The sun beats down mercilessly, its rays dancing off the glittering skyscrapers that dominate the skyline. The city’s modern charm is inescapable, with its sleek buildings and avant-garde architecture.
My eyes flicker, their once vibrant colors fading with each step. The sounds of bustling traffic and honking horns become nothing more than a distant hum as my consciousness slips away. I stumble, clutching onto the nearest park bench for support.
Sweat drips from my forehead, and my vision is blurred by the shimmering heat waves that dance before me. People pass by, oblivious to my struggle, lost in their own worlds of deadlines and appointments.
But I am trapped in this moment, my body aching, my mind fading. I yearn for relief, for the touch of air conditioning against my clammy skin. Each breath feels like a gasp for survival as my senses are dulled by the overwhelming heat.
As the world spins around me, I cling to the hope that somewhere within this modern paradise, salvation awaits. But for now, I am left to battle the relentless oppression of the Panamanian sun, my eyes fading into the blur of the cityscape.
FADE OUT.
Nearly a Ghost: Lost in Panama City
EXT. HOT AND DESOLATE STREET – DAY
I stumble through unfamiliar streets, my head spinning and my vision a distorted kaleidoscope. Faintly in the distance, I hear the echoes of laughter from vibrant cafes and the buzz of happy conversations. But all I can focus on is the searing pain radiating from every pore, my body desperate for coolness that seems out of reach.
In my delirium, I make wrong turns, venturing into desolate alleys that seem to swallow me whole. Shadows loom, ominous and threatening. I’m a lost soul in a city that couldn’t care less about my existence. The world fades in and out, my consciousness slipping away like the tide.
As I stumble, my body aching and my mind teetering on the edge of oblivion, I can’t help but wonder if I’ve become a ghost myself – a ghost lost in the sweltering maze of Panama City.
Rebirth: McDonald’s is Jesus
THE CAMERA SWISHES IN AND OUT FROM HEAT EXHAUSTION UNTIL IT BECOMES STABLE AGAIN
Lost and disoriented, I wander aimlessly, the world around me morphing into a hazy mirage. The streets become a labyrinth of asphalt, leading me deeper into the grips of the scorching city. Laughter and conversation echo faintly in the distance, taunting me like some sick joke. But all I can focus on is the tormenting heat, seeping into every pore, a relentless reminder of my vulnerability.
With each step, I feel myself slipping further into despiration, in need of a destination with Wifi. Shadows stretch and twist, morphing into a macabre dance of taunting specters. I am a solitary soul, abandoned in a city that couldn’t care less about my existence.
But then, in the midst of my feverish hallucinations, a heavenly vision appears before me. It’s the golden arches of McDonald’s, shining like a beacon of salvation. With newfound strength, I stumble towards the promise of air conditioning and escape.
INT. MCDONALD’S ESTABLISHMENT – DAY
Inside the cool confines of the fast-food haven, I seek refuge. I sink into a plastic chair, the sweat evaporating from my body like magic. The oppressive heat that once threatened to consume me now seems like a distant memory.
With a flick of my phone, I summon an Uber, my savior from certain death. As the air-conditioned car whisks me away from the torturous streets, I can’t help but feel reborn, resurrected by the almighty power of McDonald’s.
Redemption: Out of the Fire
EXT. – UGLY STREET OUTSIDE MCDONALD’S – SUNSET
And so, I leave behind the volcanic streets of Panama City, forever grateful to the fast-food deity that saved me. In this wild and twisted journey through the depths of heat and torment, McDonald’s is my Jesus, my sanctuary amidst the flames.
FADE OUT.
Conclusion
INT – UBER – SUNSET
As I bid adieu to Panama City, I reflect upon the fiery ordeal I endured. Lesson learned: never underestimate the wrath of the sun. Next time, I will heed the wisdom of the locals and clad myself in shorts, ready to brave the scorching temperatures.
But alas, my journey was not in vain. I discovered that in the face of adversity, even the brightest of golden arches can offer solace and salvation. McDonald’s, my unexpected savior, provided refuge from the sweltering streets, drenching my parched body in the cool embrace of air conditioning.
In this grueling battle against the relentless heat, I emerged as a survivor, reborn through the relentless power of fast food. Whether it was the hallucinations or the dehydration talking, the moment I stepped into that sanctuary of cool respite, I knew I had returned from the brink of heat-induced madness.
So, dear reader, take heed of my tale. When the sun’s rays scorch your skin and sweat drips like torrential rain, remember the power of McDonald’s. And don’t forget your shorts, for in the battle against extreme temperatures, it’s better to bare those legs than suffer the consequences.
And so, with the taste of victory on my lips and the sunburnt marks of battle, I bid farewell to Panama City, ready to face the next adventure life throws my way. Until we meet again, may the cool winds blow and the ice packs be ever at your side. Stay cool, my friends. Stay cool.
FADE OUT.
