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Greg.....Philip Seymour Hoffman R.D. Wells.....Chris Parnell Francisco.....Horatio Sanz Margarita.....Maya Rudloph [ ext. Office Building – Day ] [ int. Greg’s Office – Day ] [ Greg is seated at his desk, numbly staring at a sheet of paper and his computer screen. R.D. Wells, his coolly enthusiastic boss who waves a fistful of papers when talking, enters ] R.D. Wells: Man of the hour, Greg! What’s shaking? How are you settling in to the new office here at Rexicorp? Greg: Oh, hey R.D. I’m doing all right. R.D. Wells: [ waltzing over and then half-sitting on Greg’s desk ] Having trouble making the adjustment? I hear ya. Just spend a little time making it feel like home and I’m sure you’ll get right into things. Greg: That’s some good advice, I think I’ll do that. [ ext. Office Building – Day ] [ int. Office – Day ] [ Greg is seated once again, staring blankly. A picture of Greg’s family now sits on Greg’s desk and two crayon drawings are posted on the wall. R.D. Wells enters ] R.D. Wells: Greggidy Greg, how you doing today? Getting on good? How’s the home coming? Greg: Good, good. I put some of Sam’s pictures on the wall over there. R.D. Wells: I see… [ inspecting ] Dinosaur robots eating an army man. Does the really remind you of home, Greg? Greg: Well, it reminds me of Sam R.D. Wells: But do you have a problem with bionic tyrannosaurs back at home? Do marines get devoured on a regular basis there? Greg: No, of course not. R.D. Wells: Let me let you in on a little secret: I am incredible at empathy. I can tell you’re still feeling a little uncomfortable, and I want you to feel like you belong here. You need to start being honest about what home is. Anyway, I’m off to hit the links [ mimes a golf swing ] Greg: Golfing? R.D. Wells: Nah, links as in “chain links.” Tuesday afternoons I visit the S&M club. [ ext. Office Building - Day ] [ int. Greg’s Office – Day ] [ Greg is seen trying to prop up a soap box car when R.D. Wells and Francisco enter ] R.D. Wells: Greggers, this is someone I think you should meet. Francisco is one of our most productive workers in the accounting department; I think you could learn a lot from him. Greg: I think I’m getting the hang of it now, R.D. R.D. Wells: No you aren’t. Greg: I used to race in soap box derbies all the time as a kid… It really feels like I’m reaching to my roots. R.D. Wells: That’s a load of bull crap and you know it. Just follow Francisco and he’ll show you what he’s done with his office. You could learn a lot from this guy, he’s one of our top employees. Francisco: Hey bro, it’s really quite easy once you get the hang of it. [ int. Francisco’s Office – Day ] Francisco: Watch your step; I think a few of the land mines are still live. Greg: You have land mines in here!?! Francisco: Sí. I grew up in a really rough section of Colombia. There was a lot of fighting, mostly over coca plants. That’s why I keep mine in the back of the office with an uzi in the side drawer. Greg: Are you telling me you grow cocaine in this room? Francisco: No, I don’t do drugs and I’m not a dealer. They just remind me of home, so I keep them around. Just like someone else might have a tulip or rock garden, I have a coca garden. Greg: I think I understand what you’re saying. [ a small alarm goes off on Francisco’s desk ] Francisco: Oh! That alarm reminds me that it’s time to feed the whore. Greg: Wait a second, you have a whore in this room? Francisco: [ retrieving bread and liquor from desk ] Sí, Margarita. I lived next door to a whore house back in Colombia. There was another whore house by the soccer field. The school was next to two whore houses and housed another one in the basement. Greg: That’s terrible. Francisco: It’s just the way things were, bro. [ Francisco opens his closet to reveal Margarita, heavily doused in make-up ] Margarita: Oooh, es señor para mi? Francisco: No, Margarita, I told you, that’s illegal in this state. Wait for the weekend, I’ll pay for your bus fair to Reno where you can whore all you want. Margarita: Sí, sí. Necesito más lip gloss. Francisco: Ay-yi-yi, señorita. [ hands Margarita foodstuffs and then shuts closet ] She’s a handful; I don’t understand how people consider whores easy. Greg: So let me ask you a question, now, do all these things, the whore, the land mines, do they really help? I mean, I’m sure they remind you of where you grew up, but does it actually make you feel relaxed and work better? Francisco: Absolutely. Without Margarita, I don’t know how I could ever concentrate. The rats can be very helpful too. Greg: I don’t know, it just seems, well, wrong to me. Francisco: In American business, it’s results, not ethics that count. You can’t let the needs of one whore prevent your rise to the top. Greg: [ pensive ] Alright… [ ext. Office Building - Day ] [ int. Greg’s Office – Day ] [ Greg carries in a large suit of armor, which he stacks in one corner. Deadbeat preteens play pinball machines. Two potted trees. A family of garden gnomes. Large cardboard cut-out of Thor. Monet’s Olympia on the wall. R.D. Wells enters ] R.D. Wells: Interesting mix, Greg. Makes me wonder what kind of home you come from. I need to see you in my office, pronto. [ int. R.D. Wells’s Office – Day ] [ A small fire burns in the hearth, while R.D. Wells relaxes in a lounge chair with a pipe. A large moose head hangs above the mantel. Tiger-skin rug. Greg enters ] R.D. Wells: Let me tell you something about the three little pigs. The third little pig was smart, he made his house out of what pigs are used to, dried mud. He knew what should go into a pig’s home instinctively. It’s this instinct we’re looking for here at Rexicorp. I hate to be the big bad wolf, but I just don’t think you’re gonna make it. You were supposed to have those inventory initiatives to me be eleven yesterday. Greg: I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to get to them because I’ve been spending so much time redecorating. R.D. Wells: I’m sorry, you just couldn’t construct a decent office in a reasonable amount of time, so I have no choice but to fire you. Goodbye. Greg: But.. but, I worked so hard to get this job. [ R.D. Wells takes out a rifle and fires at Greg, who dies ] R.D. Wells: Ahhh, just like home. [ fade out ] Rate or review this sketch | Prior comments |
