FADE IN: EXTERIOR: OFFICE PARK MORNING Sun rising over landscaped office park. Sprinklers raise a mist in the golden light. The voice of an old man: Voice Over I was manager of this office when I was twenty-five. Hard to believe. Grandfather was management. Father too. Me and him was managers at the same time, him up in Peoria and me down here. I think he was pretty proud of that. I know I was. We dissolve to another view of the park. No people, or movement. Some of the old-time managers never even used out-sourced labor. A lot of folks find that hard to believe. We dissolve through differing views of cube farms and interior office environs all empty, some with the lights out. I always liked to hear about the old- timers. Never missed a chance to do so. You can’t help but compare yourself against the old timers. Can’t help but wonder how they would’ve operated these times. CLOSE-UP a RED Swingline stapler. The kind of dimwitted slackers apply for work today, it’s hard to even take its measure. Camera pans up to reveal a chubby man sitting at the desk: Milton Waddams. MILTON is muttering under the Voice Over. I always knew you had to be a complete bastard to even do this job. But I don’t want to push my chips forward and find I downsized the wrong character. You could say it’s my job to destroy the souls of these cube muppets but I don’t even want to know what falls out when you tip the wrong HR jacket. MILTON mutter mutter I’ll burn the place down is what I’ll do.
(Written around 2012.)