FADE IN:

INT. OFFICE BUILDING

Scene opens to corporate headquarters of O’Donnell’s Wholesale. FALCO, office director in his late 20s, sits at his desk sucking a lollipop obnoxiously. From behind him, JAKE, accounting contractor, shifts his head tersely and shoots him a look, to which Falco remains oblivious. Falco becomes impatient with sucking on the lollipop and begins to crunch on it loudly.

JAKE:
(TURNS) Hey Falco, do you mind?

Falco jerks around abruptly, noticing Jake for the first time.

FALCO:
Huh! (PAUSES) Morning Jake.

JAKE:
(BEAT) Morning Falco. (TURNS AND RESUMES WORKING)

OCEAN BLUE, female office manager and paradoxically high-strung hippy, leans in through the doorway.

OCEAN BLUE:
Falco. 4th floor wants to see you. It’s O’Donnell.

FALCO:
Shit.

OCEAN BLUE:
(DERISIVELY) He says you over-ordered on the cups. I thought you’d checked estimates.

ANNIE, the intern, enters from the side. She is wearing office blouse and skirt, hunched timidly and clutching a stack of papers intended for Falco. He shoots her a glare and she retreats back to her desk quickly with the papers.

FALCO:
Uh, we definitely did, unless… (LOOKS AT JAKE)

JAKE:
Hey, don’t look at me! I double and triple checked the data, according to the accounts you sent me. I’m clean, man.

FALCO:
Also, where the fuck are my printouts?

ANNIE:
(SQUEAKS) Um, here!

Falco yanks them from Annie’s outstretched hand, glances at them briefly, then shrugs and tosses them aside.

FALCO:
(TO OCEAN BLUE) I’ll be up in two.

Ocean Blue exits, and re-enters a second later, striding towards Annie. She picks up the stack of printouts.

OCEAN BLUE:
(TO FALCO) Oh, and next time, could you do it without totally raping Mother Nature?

Ocean Blue throws the printouts down violently, then exits. Annie bows her head, feeling guilty.

FALCO:
(SIGHS) I need coffee.

ANNIE:
I’ll get it! (EXITS)

McCLOUD, cool, hipster intellectual and Falco’s best friend, enters. Falco gets up and they embrace. As they pull apart, Falco’s hands hold both sides of McCloud’s face.

FALCO:
(LOUDLY) McCloud. How’ve you been, brother?

McCLOUD:
Good, man, and you? (GLANCES AROUND ROOM) Morning, Jake.

Jake nods slightly, eyes glued to the computer screen.

FALCO:
Listen, I actually have to be going, O’Donnell said something’s wrong with the estimates.

McCLOUD:
Shit man. Good luck.

Falco exits. McCloud casts a quick glance at Jake, then leaves. Ocean Blue re-enters in obvious distress, pacing around the room.

OCEAN BLUE:
Hey Jake, have you seen a yellow Smart Car parked around anywhere? I think…I can’t really find mine.

JAKE:
(INCREDULOUS) You lost your Smart Car.

OCEAN BLUE:
Shit, do you think someone might’ve stolen it?

JAKE:
(DEADPAN) I could look on Craigslist if you want.

OCEAN BLUE:
(EYES BULGE) Oh my god, do you think it’d actually be there?

Falco re-enters, in visibly worse mood.

FALCO:
Motherfucker. The estimates were wrong. Something must be wrong with the data.

OCEAN BLUE:
(THREATENINGLY) What do you mean?

FALCO:
You need to resend it to me. Everything.

OCEAN BLUE:
Alright. I’ll resend the data. (DRAMATIC HAND MOTIONS) I’ll resend everything. (EXITS AND SLAMS DOOR)

The door cracks opens a second later, and Annie enters.

ANNIE:
Here’s your coffee!

Falco takes the coffee, and attempts to reference the current situation with obscure metaphor about mountains.

FALCO:
(LOUDLY) Annie, out of curiosity, what would you do if someone was able to give you a mountain, but it had nuclear waste in it?

ANNIE:
(DEER-IN-THE-HEADLIGHTS LOOK) Um…I guess I’d scoop it out? With a construction crew?

Falco condescendingly pats Annie hard on the back, and his Blackberry buzzes. He checks it, then curses loudly and stalks out of the room, punching the door violently as he leaves. Annie returns to desk and buries her face in her hands.

JAKE:
(SNORTS) Construction crew.

Falco re-enters.

FALCO:
Jake. For the estimates, how many subcategory levels did you check on in each account?

JAKE:
Seven, sir.

FALCO:
Seven? I thought there were five.

JAKE:
Actually, you were counting last year’s assets without taking accelerated depreciation into account for the moving carts. I think that’s probably where your discrepancy is coming from.

FALCO:
Fuck, you’re right. Jake, you’re a beautiful man. Annie, Can you make a briefing on the accounts with a side note on that?

Annie nods enthusiastically, clicks twice on computer screen.

FALCO (CONT’D):
I need it for a meeting. In five minutes. (EXITS)

Annie pauses and is visibly overwhelmed. She cups face in hands.

JAKE:
Sentcha the files.

Annie grabs the mouse dejectedly, and starts typing as fast as she can. Falco and McCloud’s voices can be heard O.C. The two walk in, talking animatedly.

FALCO:
….She’s extremely talented. Hell of a woman. (ANNIE LOOKS UP) Worked on the ‘Post campaign in ’06. Directed it, actually.

Annie’s face falls, she resumes working.

FALCO (CONT’D)
Actually, Annie…I almost forgot, I don’t think I actually need that report. Can you recycle it so Ocean doesn’t have a fit?

Falco pats McCloud’s buttocks lightly and they exit again. Annie takes a big breath, then runs out of the office, returns with huge stack of papers higher than her head. She dumps it all in the recycle bin, pushing the protruding stack into the overflowing bin. She sits down again and lets her head bang onto the table, not lifting it up.

JAKE:
You really don’t do anything, do you?

Annie groans.

FALCO:
(POKES HEAD IN DOORWAY) Actually, sorry. Small amendment, we do need that report. You have it ready, right? (EYES RECYCLE BIN)

Annie begins digging the smashed papers out of the bin and flattening them out on the desk. Ocean Blue and McCloud re-enter.

OCEAN BLUE:
Guys, check out this awesome app I just found. It actually tells you what you’re going to do before you think about it! (COLLECTIVE EXCLAMATIONS OF APPROVAL)

JAKE:
You talking about ‘Miri?’

OCEAN BLUE:
Yeah, you know about it?

JAKE:
Friend was one of the guys that developed it. Really slick. It literally does everything for you. Personal assistants have basically become obsolete. (LOOKS AT ANNIE)

A collective chatter ensues as everyone looks up the app on their iPhones. Annie, fed up, looks around quickly before mumbling, “I quit,” and quietly exiting. Only Jake notices, but doesn’t say anything.

FALCO:
But does it order out? (LOOKS AROUND) Wait, where’s Annie?

JAKE:
I think she quit.

Falco laughs heartily, Ocean Blue and McCloud smile and shake their heads.

FALCO:
Come on, we can’t be all that bad, can we?

McCLOUD:
I think in terms of Falco, Shiva the Destroyer could qualify as slightly worse.

FALCO:
(LAUGHS) Well played, McCloud. But seriously, are we ordering out? Pinkley’s closes in five.

JAKE:
You could text Annie and have her get it.

A beat, then all start furiously texting Annie their pick-up orders.

FADE OUT.

THE END

(Photo courtesy of Flickr / UGA College of Ag)