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(An office. A secretary and a new assistant stand in front of a door marked Network President.) Assistant: Can we turn on the air conditioner? Secretary: Absolutely not. Now this is an easy job once you get the hang of it. You just have to get used to the pitch and frequency of the boss's howls. (A loud animal noise emerges from behind the door.) Yes, sir! Right away, sir! Assistant: What did he say? Secretary: (Dimming the lights) He wanted the lights turned down. The boss hates light. Something about its illuminating power deeply disturbs him. Assistant: That's odd. (She lets out a giggle, precipitating another fit of howling.) Now what? Secretary: Yes, that's all right. You're still new. Laughter is forbidden here. The boss doesn't like it. If you need to laugh, go out to the laughing area. It is clearly marked on the sidewalk, twenty feet from the front door. Assistant: Don't worry. I won't laugh now. (Another howl, loud and terrifying, causes the women to fall to their knees on the carpet.) What did I do now? Secretary: It's not your fault this time, dear. That extra loud howl means it's almost lunchtime. Take this money and run down the block to the abortion clinic. Go in through the back door. A nurse will be waiting for you with a plastic bag... |
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| © 2007, 2013. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved. |
Saturday, March 9, 2013
The Assistant
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