The Digital Cocoon
Dook believes they literally live inside the internet, manifesting data-managing spiders and archival robots that wrap old information in glowing cocoons. Flops must teach Dook how the real internet actually works to undo the effects, with help from The Stoat and Odie, who each provide different perspectives on the digital chaos unfolding around them.
PART A: PRE-INTRO SEGMENT
INT. DOOK & FLOPS' LIVING ROOM - MORNING
Flops sprawls on the couch, scrolling through his phone. A notification pings.
FLOPS: (reading) "Your cloud storage is full." Huh. Didn't know clouds could get full.
Dook enters from the kitchen carrying two mugs of cocoa. He pauses, tilting his head at Flops' phone.
DOOK: (serene) The spiders must be working overtime.
FLOPS: ...What spiders?
DOOK: (setting down cocoa) The ones that manage old data. They wrap it in silk cocoons until something newer hatches. Fresh information emerges like butterflies. (peers at phone) Yours are molting.
FLOPS: Dook, that's not—data isn't—(sighs) It's just storage space. On servers. With hard drives.
DOOK: (nodding thoughtfully) Yes. The robots feed the spiders. The spiders build the web. The web holds all the thoughts we've ever had. We live inside it, you know.
FLOPS: Inside... what?
DOOK: The internet. (gestures around room) This is all just very convincing rendering. Notice how the walls load faster when you look directly at them?
Flops stares at the wall. It looks completely normal. He looks back at Dook.
FLOPS: Dook. Buddy. We live in a house. In Sala City. Not inside—
A faint chittering sound. Both look up. A small spider descends from the ceiling on a glowing thread that pulses with data packets.
SPIDER: (tiny voice) Deprecated memory detected. Initiating archival protocol.
The spider touches Flops' phone. The screen flickers with binary code.
FLOPS: (slowly) ...That spider just talked.
DOOK: (pleased) Oh good, you can see them now too. That means your perception is updating. Very efficient.
FLOPS: (standing, phone in hand, mild panic rising) Dook. What did you do?
DOOK: (innocent) I simply observed how the world works. And now it does.
PART B: INTRO SEGMENT
[Standard Dook and Flops theme plays. The flying sofa passes through wireframe clouds with spiders weaving glowing webs between them. Data packets float like fireflies. The title card glitches slightly: "Dook and Flops – The Digital Cocoon"]
PART C: STORY SEGMENT PART 1
EXT. SALA CITY STREETS - DAY
Flops walks quickly, Dook floating serenely beside him. The city looks normal but slightly off. Street signs occasionally flicker. A mailbox displays a loading spinner. A fire hydrant has a progress bar slowly filling.
FLOPS: (walking fast, stressed) Okay. Okay. So you thought we live inside the internet, and because you're... you... reality just went "sure, why not"?
DOOK: (calm) It was always this way. I just noticed it more clearly this morning. The spiders have been here forever. Very polite workers. Excellent dental coverage.
FLOPS: Spiders don't have dental coverage!
A robot the size of a golden retriever trundles past, carrying a bundle of old newspapers wrapped in silk.
ROBOT: (monotone) Archiving print media. Relevance score: 0.003. Estimated cocoon time: 47 years.
FLOPS: (pointing at robot) THAT'S NOT NORMAL!
DOOK: The robots are just doing their job. Old information needs somewhere to rest. The spiders can't do everything.
Flops pinches the bridge of his nose.
FLOPS: We need help. Professional help. Or at least someone who can confirm I'm not hallucinating.
DOOK: The Stoat has good perspective. He's Canadian. They're practical.
FLOPS: (grasping at straws) Yes. The Stoat. He'll see this is insane.
INT. THE KIOSK - CONTINUOUS
The bell tinkles. The Stoat looks up from restocking beef jerky. Behind him, a spider is carefully wrapping expired lottery tickets in shimmering silk.
THE STOAT: (casual) Hey buds, eh. Noticed the spiders showed up this morning. Thought I was having a weird day.
FLOPS: (desperate) You SEE them?!
THE STOAT: (shrugs) Yeah? Been archiving my old inventory. Kinda helpful, actually. Found some jerky from 2019 I forgot about. Spider wrapped it up, robot took it to the basement. Very organized, eh.
He gestures to where a small robot is descending through a newly-appeared trapdoor that definitely wasn't there yesterday.
FLOPS: (to Dook) This is YOUR fault! You changed reality!
DOOK: (to The Stoat) Do you think the spiders get lonely?
THE STOAT: (considering) Maybe? They work in shifts. Seems social.
FLOPS: (louder) WE'RE NOT TALKING ABOUT SPIDER FEELINGS!
The three gnomes pop their heads up from their shelf. They're wearing tiny hard hats and hi-vis vests.
GNOME #1: Excuse me, we're trying to conduct a network audit.
GNOME #2: (holding tiny clipboard) Your bandwidth allocation is irregular.
GNOME #3: Also, you're very loud. It's creating packet loss.
FLOPS: (staring) The gnomes are... IT support now?
THE STOAT: (proud) They adapted fast, eh. Very good at documentation.
FLOPS: (grabbing Dook's arm) We're going to Odie. He's a lawyer. He deals with reality for a living. He'll have legal precedent for... for UN-MAKING SPIDER INTERNET.
EXT. ODIE'S OFFICE - 221 CACTUS BLVD - CONTINUOUS
The building looks the same except the windows display faint lines of scrolling code. A small spider sits in the corner of the doorframe, occasionally adjusting a tiny router.
INT. ODIE'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Odie sits at his desk, typing on a laptop. Behind him, a cocoon pulses gently with golden light.
ODIE: (not looking up) Let me guess. The spiders?
FLOPS: (exhausted) You too?
ODIE: (finally looks up, gestures to cocoon) That's my 2019 tax filings. A spider said they were "deprecated" and needed to "metamorphose into summary data." (pause) I ran a conflict check. There's no legal framework for inter-species digital archival agreements.
FLOPS: Because it's NOT REAL! Dook THINKS we live in the internet, so now we DO!
ODIE: (leaning back) Interesting. So this is perception-based reality manipulation?
DOOK: (sitting in a chair, serene) I prefer "observation-aligned existence."
ODIE: (to Flops) Have you tried... un-observing?
FLOPS: I DON'T KNOW HOW TO UN-OBSERVE!
ODIE: (pulls out a legal pad) Okay. Let's approach this systematically. What does Dook believe about the internet?
FLOPS: (gesturing wildly) That it's LITERAL. That we LIVE in it. That spiders manage old data and wrap it in cocoons and robots feed them and everything's just... digital!
ODIE: (writing notes) And you want to convince him that's not how it works?
FLOPS: YES!
ODIE: (thoughtful) You'll need evidence. Empirical, physical evidence that contradicts his model.
A spider descends next to Flops' head. He flinches.
SPIDER: (helpful) Would you like to defragment your short-term memory? I can optimize your recall speed.
FLOPS: (to spider) NO! (to Odie) How do I get evidence when reality is LITERALLY conforming to his beliefs?!
DOOK: (gently) Perhaps you could teach me how the world used to work. Before I noticed the spiders.
Everyone pauses.
ODIE: (surprised) That's... actually legally sound. Re-education through demonstration of alternative models.
FLOPS: (hopeful) You'd... listen? To how things actually work?
DOOK: (sincere) Of course. You're very smart about practical things. I trust your observations.
FLOPS: (suspicious) This feels too easy.
DOOK: (tilts head) The spiders suggested it. They said my perception was "overwriting baseline parameters" and causing "system instability."
FLOPS: The spiders told you that?
DOOK: (nods) They're very concerned about structural integrity.
PART D: EDUCATIONAL SEGMENT
[Scene transitions to a simplified, illustrated style. Dook and Flops stand in a white space with floating diagrams.]
FLOPS: (to camera/audience) Okay, so Dook thinks we live INSIDE the internet. But that's not... exactly how it works.
DOOK: (holding a drawing of a spider) But the web is everywhere. I can feel it.
FLOPS: (pulling out a simple diagram) The internet is a NETWORK. It's made of computers talking to each other through cables and wireless signals.
[Diagram shows simplified computers connected by lines]
DOOK: (pointing) Like neurons in a very large brain.
FLOPS: ...Sort of, but physical. When you look at a website, you're not IN the website. Your computer is requesting data from another computer far away.
[Animation shows a computer sending a request, traveling through cables, reaching a server, and returning data]
DOOK: (fascinated) The data travels? Like migrating birds?
FLOPS: (encouraged) Yes! Exactly! It moves through physical infrastructure. Fiber optic cables, cell towers, satellites.
[Images of actual internet infrastructure appear: server farms, undersea cables, cell towers]
DOOK: (touching an undersea cable illustration) And the spiders?
FLOPS: (gentle) There are no literal spiders. When we say "web crawlers" or "spiders," we mean SOFTWARE. Programs that index websites.
DOOK: (processing) Software... like thoughts that live in the machines?
FLOPS: (nods) They're instructions. Code. They crawl through websites to organize information for search engines.
[Animation shows a simplified "spider bot" moving through connected websites, taking notes]
DOOK: (quiet) So they're not alive?
FLOPS: (kind) Not in the way you're thinking. They're tools. Really smart tools.
DOOK: (touching a server farm image) And when data gets old?
FLOPS: (pulling up a new diagram) It's stored on hard drives or deleted. No cocoons. Just... magnetic patterns on metal disks, or electrical charges in solid-state memory.
[Cross-section of a hard drive appears, showing spinning platters]
DOOK: (wonderstruck) Spinning memories. Like a music box of information.
FLOPS: (smiling) Yeah. Kind of like that.
DOOK: (looks at Flops) And we don't live inside this?
FLOPS: (firm) No. We live in the physical world. We USE the internet. But our bodies are here. (taps Dook's shoulder) Solid. Real.
DOOK: (testing, pokes Flops' arm) You do feel very un-digital.
FLOPS: (laughs) Because I am! We both are!
DOOK: (slow smile) I think I understand. The metaphor became literal in my perception.
FLOPS: (relieved) Exactly!
DOOK: (thoughtful) The spiders are metaphors wearing tiny bodies.
FLOPS: (hopeful) So you can... stop seeing them?
DOOK: (considers) Perhaps. If I remember that networks are made of wire and light, not silk and patience.
[Scene transitions back to regular animation]
PART E: STORY SEGMENT PART 2
INT. ODIE'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Dook blinks slowly, looking around the office. The cocoon behind Odie flickers, becoming translucent.
DOOK: (soft) Oh. The cocoon is fading.
ODIE: (turning to look) It's... turning back into a file cabinet?
The golden cocoon dissolves like mist. A normal, boring file cabinet stands where it was.
FLOPS: (excited) It's working! Dook, keep thinking about the REAL internet! Cables! Servers! No spiders!
A spider descends next to Dook. It looks at him with multiple tiny eyes.
SPIDER: (plaintive) Are we... not needed?
DOOK: (gentle) You were very helpful. But I think you were only here because I imagined you.
SPIDER: (processing) Ah. Existential realization. (pause) Do we get severance pay?
ODIE: (automatically) Under the Imaginary Workers' Rights Act—which I'm making up right now—yes.
SPIDER: (satisfied) Acceptable. (starts fading) It's been an honor archiving with you.
The spider dissolves into sparkles of light.
FLOPS: (watching more spiders fade from the ceiling) They're going away!
DOOK: (watching peacefully) I'm releasing them back into metaphor. Where they belong.
EXT. SALA CITY STREETS - DAY
Flops and Dook walk back through the city. The loading spinners are gone. The progress bars have vanished. The robots are dissolving into wisps of conceptual steam.
A robot carrying newspapers stops in front of them.
ROBOT: (monotone) Thank you for the brief existence. It was... informative.
DOOK: (bowing slightly) You were excellent at your purpose.
The robot nods and fades away, leaving the newspapers on the ground. They're just regular newspapers again.
FLOPS: (looking around) Is it... all back to normal?
THE STOAT: (stepping out of his kiosk) My back room is a back room again, not a data center, eh. The gnomes are disappointed. They liked the hi-vis vests.
GNOME #1: (from inside the kiosk) We made SPREADSHEETS!
GNOME #2: We had PURPOSE!
GNOME #3: We're filing a complaint with the union!
THE STOAT: (amused) They'll adjust.
FLOPS: (to Dook) How do you feel?
DOOK: (thoughtful) The world is less sparkly. But more solid. I think I prefer solid for now. The internet is still beautiful, just... smaller. More distant.
FLOPS: (relieved) Good. Because I'd like to keep my actual body, thanks.
DOOK: (curious) Although... if we DID live in the internet, would we need sleep?
FLOPS: (warning) Dook.
DOOK: (innocent) I'm just observing.
FLOPS: (firmly) PRACTICALLY. Observe PRACTICALLY.
PART F: STORY SEGMENT PART 3
INT. DOOK & FLOPS' LIVING ROOM - EVENING
Flops is back on the couch. Dook brings two mugs of cocoa and sits beside him.
FLOPS: (sipping) Today was weird.
DOOK: (content) Most days are, if you look carefully.
FLOPS: (side-eye) Maybe look LESS carefully sometimes.
DOOK: (considers) I could try medium-carefully. As a compromise.
FLOPS: (smiling) I'll take it.
They sit in comfortable silence. Flops picks up his phone, scrolls through it.
FLOPS: (reading) "Your cloud storage is full." (pause) You know... I still don't really understand where the cloud IS.
DOOK: (serene) Server farms. Rows of computers in climate-controlled buildings. Spinning hard drives. Electrical pulses.
FLOPS: (impressed) You WERE listening to the lesson.
DOOK: (sips cocoa) I listened very carefully. Medium-carefully. (pause) Although...
FLOPS: (wary) Although?
DOOK: (innocent) I still think the spiders were doing good work.
FLOPS: (sighs) They were metaphors, Dook.
DOOK: (gentle) The best metaphors usually are.
They clink mugs. The TV plays quietly in the background—something about data centers and their environmental impact.
FLOPS: (watching TV) Huh. Apparently data centers use a LOT of water for cooling.
DOOK: (interested) To keep the thoughts from overheating?
FLOPS: (grins) Yeah. Something like that.
PART G: CREDITS SEGMENT
[Credits roll over footage of:
- A spider web with morning dew (real, not digital)
- Fiber optic cables glowing
- A server farm's blinking lights
- The gnomes dejectedly removing their hi-vis vests
- The Stoat organizing his actual, non-digital inventory
- Odie filing papers in his very real file cabinet]
PART H: AFTER-CREDITS SEGMENT
INT. THE KIOSK - NIGHT
The Stoat locks up. He turns off the lights. In the darkness, a single tiny spider descends from the ceiling, glowing faintly.
SPIDER: (whispering) Psst. You still need that 2019 jerky archived?
THE STOAT: (turning, squinting) ...Thought you were a metaphor.
SPIDER: (defensive) I'm a PERSISTENT metaphor. The most stubborn kind.
THE STOAT: (considers, shrugs) Fair enough, eh. Back room's that way. Don't touch the—
He stops himself. The spider tilts all eight of its eyes at him.
SPIDER: Don't touch the...?
THE STOAT: (quickly) —The maple sy—SUGAR. Don't touch the sugar. It's... sticky.
SPIDER: (suspicious, but accepting) ...Understandable. Sticky is bad for silk production.
The spider scuttles toward the back room. The Stoat watches it go, shakes his head, and mutters to himself.
THE STOAT: Now I got metaphor employees. What's next, eh?
From inside the back room, three tiny voices harmonize.
GNOMES: (singing) WE GOT SPREADSHEETS! WE GOT PURPOSE! WE'RE FILING COMPLAINTS!
THE STOAT: (sighing) Right. Those.
He turns off the last light. The kiosk goes dark except for the faint glow of one determined metaphorical spider, dutifully wrapping expired jerky in conceptual silk.
FADE TO BLACK.
THE END