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Mr. Greenfield... Chris Parnell David... Steve Carrell (open on the exterior of a mid-sized office building in the afternoon. The camera then cuts to the glass doors of the building's entrance, the name "Goldenrod Greeting Cards" displayed on the doors. The two "O"s in goldenrod are represented as golden circles with a goldenrod design in the center, much like the Hallmark logo. The scene then cuts to an interior office where a well-dressed executive, Mr. Greenfield, sits at his desk, reading over papers. The door to his office opens and David, a casually-dressed employee, enters.) David: You, uh, wanted to see me sir? (Greenfield looks up from his papers and looks at David. His expression becomes dour) Mr. Greenfield: (in a serious tone) Ah, yes David. Please, have a seat. (David walks towards the desk and sits down before Greenfield) I wanted to go over this new anniversary card you've been working on. David: (beaming with pride) Oh, wow. Mr. Greenfield, I am honored that you wanted to talk to me about that. I am very proud of that piece. Mr. Greenfield: (dismissively) Well, to be honest, David, you shouldn't be. (He opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out the card David has been working on, the front has a mountain stream setting and a "Happy Anniversary" message) Just tell me what you think is wrong with this. (Opens the card and begins reading it) "My darling, every day since we were wed I have thanked God for bringing such a wonderful woman into my life. On this, our anniversary, I wanted to remind you of how much I love you, and how much I appreciate the joy and laughter you have brought into my life." (he looks at David) That's beautiful stuff, David. David: (smiling) I know, I'm just a sentimental guy. What did you find wrong with it? Mr. Greenfield: Well, since you wrote the message, you know as well as I do that I didn't read the entire thing. Can you tell me why you ended it like this? (reads from the card again) "So tonight, will you just shut up and get off my case for once, you soul-sucking whore?" (he looks at David with a displeased expression) How can you put something so cold and callous at the end of a heartfelt declaration of love? David: (defensively) It's for humor! It adds a comedic air to the whole celebration. Come on, you're telling your wife that she's the greatest thing in your life, then you imply that she's a nagging hell harpy like the rest of her sinister gender. (nervously) That's... funny, isn't it? (Greenfield does not look amused) Mr. Greenfield: (dour) Well, obviously there are some problems here that will have to be resolved in a more therapeutic environment. (clears his throat) Now, David, how long have you been working here at Goldenrod? David: I guess I've been here about a year and... five months, give or take. Mr. Greenfield: That's about right. In the one year and five months you have been employed here, you have crafted nearly two hundred potential card messages for various occasions. Do you know how many of them have been released for public sale? David: From all the places I've shopped at that carry our products... none so far. Mr. Greenfield: (inquisitively) Do you know why they haven't been released for sale? David: (scratching his chin) I would assume that it's due to some horrendous administrative error by the higher ups in sales and distribution. Am I right? Mr. Greenfield: (sarcastically) Well, you're close, David. Let me show you something. (He reaches back into his desk drawer and pulls out a large binder. He opens it up, revealing laminated greeting cards on every page.) These are all of the possible card designs you have worked on during your time here. We've collected them and we show them to potential new employees during their training. (A smile grows on David's face) David: (very happy) You use my work to train newcomers? Mr. Greenfield, I am honored! Mr. Greenfield: (serious) Yes, they review your work in the training segment titled "What to Avoid when Working for Goldenrod Greeting Cards." (David's smile quickly disappears, and he looks rather upset) David: I, I don't understand. What's wrong with my designs? Mr. Greenfield: (incredulously) What's wrong with them? (calms down) Here, I want to show you some of your previous designs. Take a look at these ethnically diverse birthday cards you drafted. (He turns to a page in the binder and points out a card for David.) This one here, for a Jewish birthday, just look at this. "Best wishes for you on your three thousand and fortieth birthday." Now honestly, what kind of nonsense is that? David: (defensively) Mr. Greenfield, I would have thought a well-educated individual such as your self would have known that the Hebrew calendar differs greatly from our Gregorian calendar. While we are in the year two thousand and five, they are in the year fifty-seven sixty five. I had to account for the change in dates to ensure that it would be accurate for the target recipient. Mr. Greenfield: But they're still only forty years old when you go by their calendar. David (scoffs) I don't go by the Hebrew calendar. I'm normal. (Greenfield sighs and scowls at his employee's idiocy) Mr. Greenfield: I'd assume that you used this same line of logic when you wrote up this birthday card for a Muslim child, telling them to have a happy negative five hundred and eighty-ninth birthday? David: Yes, it's the year fourteen twenty six in their culture. If the kid was born in fourteen sixteen, that's how old they are when counting back from our calendar to their heathen system. It makes perfect sense. Mr. Greenfield: (under his breath) Why do they let people like this out into society unsupervised? (he sighs and regains his normal tone of voice) On the subject of differing religions, David, there's another card that sticks out in my mind. (He flips through the binder to an appropriate page) Do you honestly believe that anyone will buy a bar mitzvah card for a Muslim teenager? David: It's an untapped market. You gotta reach out to the obscure fringe groups if you want to expand your customer base. (Greenfield stares at David with a "What the hell are you talking about?" expression on his face, and slaps his forehead in a sign of disbelief) Mr. Greenfield: Right. (he moves his hand away from his head) Moving on to some of your other "creative" venues, we have your specialized get well cards for people suffering from kidney stones. (He finds the appropriate card in the binder and shows it to David) Were you proud of this? David: (chuckling) Oh, yeah, that was one of my favorites. I liked the joke to go along with it, "This too shall pass." I admit it's been done before, but I think I put an inventive spin on it. Mr. Greenfield: "Inventive" isn't the term I'd use, David. Tell me, did you really find it appropriate to include a picture showing the passing of a kidney stone on the front of the card? David: (a beat) I did one for both genders. Mr. Greenfield: That's not really helping your case, David. Just consider the logic here. Aside from plastering an inappropriate anatomical picture on the front of the card, after you've had the painful experience of passing some jagged mineral the size of a small bean through your urethra, do you really think that you'd want to be reminded of the experience afterwards, no matter what your sex is? David: Well, I can't speak for others, but when I had to pass mine I had it digitally recorded and put it up as a file on my blog. Looking back on it now, I get a real laugh out of it. (There is a pregnant pause as Greenfield takes in this bizarre statement) Mr. Greenfield: (sighing) The longer I listen to you, the more frightened I become. (He starts leafing through the binder again until he stops at another one of David's samples) Here's another hall-of-famer, your congratulatory card for same-sex marriages. David: That one took a lot of perspiration and innovation. I consider it to be a masterpiece among all of my works. Mr. Greenfield: (sarcastically) Of course you would, the message here is poetic genius. (He starts to read the card's message) "The state wouldn't recognize your love, but you fought back when push came to shove. Now the two of you are one, to share the joy and sorrow. So rub on that K-Y and ram your gay lover's ass like there's no tomorrow." (he gives David a sarcastic sneer) Not even Coleridge could have crafted a piece as fine as this. David: (offended) All right, all right, so it's not a Shakespeare sonnet. But you have to admit that it's context is appropriate for the occasion. Those gay guys do like the butt sex. Mr. Greenfield: (irritated) I know, I know... David: I have videos to prove it if you don't believe me. Mr. Greenfield: (out of patience) All right! That's enough! (he breathes heavily and calms down, but is still quite angry.) David, Goldenrod Greeting Cards is a nationally renowned company. We distribute our cards in all fifty states, and we carry an air of respectability. Therefore, we expect all of our products to be respectable as well: they should be serious, insightful, able to invoke an emotional response from their readers. Nothing that you have created meets any of these criteria. Honestly, who do you think will buy cards such as these? (He pages through the binder rapidly) Baby shower cards that say "Hopefully your kid won't be a retard." Graduation cards that tell teens the only futures awaiting them are careers as mechanics and waitresses. And this... (he opens a drawer and pulls out a card) this we didn't even include in the binder. We burned all of them except for this one. It's the bereavement card you designed for the loss of a spouse. The one that proclaims, "You're finally free." (He glares menacingly at David) How can you justify intending to sell something so mean-spirited and offensive to a grieving widow or widower? David: Again, I'm reaching out to an untapped market. There are a number of married individuals who hate their partners, and will obviously be happy to see them dead. I was thinking of doing another take on it for the death of a child. Mr. Greenfield: (groaning) Please don't. Our company isn't insured against mail bombs. (he breathes deeply to regain his composure) David, we're going to have to let you go. I've let you slide before, but it's obvious that you don't take this job seriously. We can't have that here at Goldenrod, it hurts the entire company. Please clean out your desk. I want you out of here by three. (David sits in the chair stunned, taking in this news. His face becomes stern and he stands up rapidly) David: (slightly angry and forceful) You don't think I take this job seriously? You think I'm hurting the company? Well that's where you're wrong, man! (he points at Greenfield when he says "you're wrong" for emphasis) I'll tell you what's hurting this company: a lack of vision from you and the rest of the corporate flunkeys. You're afraid of change! Content to keep mass producing greeting cards carrying stale cliches that have ruined this once great nation of ours! (Greenfield looks at David with a puzzled look) It's people like me who are trying to fix this problem, (switches to a sinister tone) but you don't want that, now do you Greenfield? Huh?! (reverts to his normal tone) No, you just want to keep shoveling out generic greeting card swill to the unwashed masses, keep them in the dark, keep them in line. But that's where you and I are different. I grew tired of these dull, uninspired cutesy Hallmark knockoffs long ago, and I said to myself, "David, you can make a difference. You can bring the greeting card industry into the twenty-first century. You'll step on a couple of toes along the way, you'll probably piss off a lot of people who find your work inappropriate or offensive, but in the end, they'll thank you." And they will thank me, Greenfield. Because the American people deserve better than the same tired platitudes of hope spewed by Garfield, Snoopy and Ziggy. The American people deserve better than stale "over the hill" jokes about their memory going or the candles on their cakes setting off fire alarms when they're another year older. The American people deserve better than five hundred pound naked women wearing Santa hats telling them to, "Have a ton of fun this Christmas!" You may think that my work is callous, or mean-spirited, or completely obscene, but it's what the public has been yearning for all these years, because that is what will set their minds free! And I will not disappoint them! You can think you've stopped me, but I will rise from the ashes and continue my work. And soon, the United States will give thanks and praise to David Marks, the man who liberated them from greeting card mediocrity! (David takes a bow as the audience applauds wildly. As the applause dies down, Greenfield gets up from his desk and looks at David in awe.) Mr. Greenfield: (speaking as if David's words touched him) David, that was, without a doubt... (his tone becomes angrier) the most imbecilic ranting I have ever heard in my life! Get out of my office now! (David slumps down in defeat, turns around and heads for the door. Before he leaves, Greenfield gets a large manilla envelope from his desk.) Mr. Greenfield: Oh David, wait. (He tosses the envelope to David, who catches it before it falls to the floor) Your severance package. (David opens the envelope and reaches inside, only to pull out a greeting card. He opens it up and reads from it.) David: (reading the card) "Sorry about your hardship. I'm sure you'll get back on your feet. Keep trying." (he sneers at Greenfield) Funny, real funny. Mr. Greenfield: (smiling) See, I am a creative person. Goodbye, David. (David heads out the door and closes it behind him, leaving Greenfield sitting at his desk. He picks up his phone and dials a number, then starts talking into it.) Mr. Greenfield: Angela? It's Greenfield. I just wanted to let you know the problem's been taken care of. (pause) Yes, he's gone for good. (pause) I'm thrilled as well. That guy would have ruined the respectable nature of our business. But let's not dwell on that for now. How's the set up for the holiday card photo shoot coming along? (pause) Mm-hm, the fat chicks are stripped down and oiled up. (a beat) Perfect. I'll be right down. Thanks Angie. (Greenfield gets a camera out of his desk drawer and heads for the door with a perverted grin on his face. He leaves his office and slams the door behind him.) (fade out) Rate or review this sketch | Prior comments |
