One More Thing...

Let me set the scene for you…

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – AFTERNOON

White, sterile, and filled with people who would rather be getting a root canal than there. Welcome to corporate America at 5:55pm on a Friday.

MONOTONE paces back and forth in front of a wall-sized monitor. Portly, clothes that are too tight in all the wrong places, and a voice that rivals Ben Stein, he is the last person that should be running a meeting.

O’NEILL sits at the end of the table, head slump between her hands, longingly eyeing the door.

INNER O’NEILL

Five more minutes… Just five more…

MONOTONE

And what are they asking for it?

HICCUPS

2.5 mil with a back end of 12.5 percent.

INNER O’NEILL

Ok its 5:56. If he finishes droning in two minutes then that leaves me 20 to get downtown. Totally doable.

MONOTONE

And when can they deliver it?

Dead silence.

MONOTONE

O’Neill?

Hiccups elbow O’Neill in the side as all eye fall upon her.

O’NEILL

Huh? Oh, six months. Four if they double their team.

INNER O’NEILL

Shit. Stay focused. Almost done.

MONOTONE

Interesting.

A beat.

Monotone stops pacing and checks his watch.

MONOTONE

Alright. How about we pick this back up on Monday?

INNER O’NEILL

Yes!

O’Neill starts to gather her papers in a mild “It’s Friday and Happy Hour is calling my name” state of euphoria.

MONTONE

One more thing…

INNER O’NEILL

No!

MONOTONE

What’s the status on the Jameson account?

HICCUPS

Sent the contract out this morning.

MONOTONE

The redlined one?

HICCUPS

Redlined?

MONOTONE

I sent it this morning. O’Neill was CCed.

A wave of exasperation washes over the room as everyone plops themselves back down in their chairs.

INNER O’NEILL

Are you kidding me? Yes, let’s talk about outstanding contracts at 5:57pm on a Friday! Because there’s absolutely no other better time to do so.

MONOTONE

O’Neill?

O’NEILL

I didn’t receive it.

MONOTONE

You sure?

INNER O’NEILL

Of course. I don’t know about you, but I chose to memorize all 345 of my daily e-mails.

O’NEILL

Not 100%.

MONOTONE

(irritated)

So you’re telling me an unedited contract went to one of our biggest clients?!

INNER O’NEILL

I’m telling you that it’s 5:59pm and Guinness is calling my name.

MONOTONE

Someone better fix this and fast.

HICCUPS

(motioning to O’Neill)

We’ve got it.

Panic sweeps across O’Neill’s face.

INNER O’NEILL

Excuse me? We? What’s this “We” business?

HICCUPS

They’ll have it in two hours tops?

MONOTONE

Good.

Everyone starts to pack up and file out of the room leaving O’Neill and Hiccups behind.

A beat.

O’Neill stares down Hiccups with a fiery “you better sleep with one eye open” anger.

HICCUPS

Sorry.

INNER O’NEILL

Oh you are so the deadest Dude in dudes-ville!

O’NEILL

(annoyed)

You owe me a drink.

HICCUPS

Deal.

MONOTONE pops his head back in through the doorway.

MONOTONE

(forced cheerfulness)

Just one more thing… You two have a good weekend.

O’NEILL

(to Hiccups)

Make that ten.

Mr. Blackwell Knows Best

Let me set the scene for you…

INT. OFFICE – DAY

An endless labyrinth of cubicles each decked out in various levels of retro pop-culture knick-knacks. This is what happens when Corporate America collides with nerdom.

O’NEILL and HICCUPS casually toss a nerf football back and forth in full blown procrastination mode.

O’NEILL

I seriously just passed the hell out. Totally dead to the world.

HICCUPS

No way.

O’NEILL

I know. Kinda pathetic.

HICCUPS

Not at all, man. Sometimes we all need—

THE FUNK (O.S.)

What’s you guys up to?

INNER O’NEILL

Just solving world peace.

THE FUNK bounces her way towards Hiccup and O’Neill trade mark stench trailing behind her.

Hiccups immediately perks up. He stops throwing the football and focuses all of his attention on The Funk.

HICCUPS

Just shooting the shit. You?

THE FUNK

Absolutely nothing. It’s way too boring over there. Aaron’s sick and Max has been in a meeting for like forever.

(pause)

Oh! Did you see the Golden Globes?

HICCUPS

Yeah. My girlfriend lives for those shows.

THE FUNK

(To O’Neill)

Did you?

O’NEILL
No, I—

THE FUNK

(interrupting)

Why am I even asking? You so don’t watch those things.

INNER O’NEILL

Of course not. I’ve got the womens sports only cable package.

THE FUNK

So Eva was wearing like the most amazing dress ever. Floor length. Sheer black. Swooping neckline.

HICCUPS

Sounds nice.

THE FUNK

Beyond nice. I think it was Vera Wong.

O’Neill does a quick double take.

INNER O’NEILL

Wong? Survey says… Wrong.

THE FUNK

I’d kill for a Vera Wong. She’s like an absolute genius.

HICCUPS

Uh-huh.

INNER O’NEILL

C’mon O’Neill. Fight the urge.

THE FUNK

And I totally have the shoulders to pull off a Wong too.

INNER O’NEILL

There’s no need to correct her…

THE FUNK

Wong loves to do a-lines and everyone knows you totally have to have narrow shoulders to make an a-line work.

(To O’Neill)

Like you’d never be able to wear a Wong. Your shoulders are way too huge. You’ve got like man shoulders.

INNER O’NEILL

Oh hell’s no.

O’NEILL

It’s Wang.

THE FUNK

What?

O’NEILL

Wang. It’s Vera Wang.

THE FUNK

It’s Wong. I think I would know. I actually wear dresses.

The Funk shoots a look at Hiccups for validation.

HICCUPS

Um… She’s actually right, dude. It’s Wang.

THE FUNK

(annoyed)

Whatever.

(pause)

I’ve got work to do.

The Funk storms off in a huff and a small triumphant smirk crosses O’Neill’s face.

INNER O’NEILL

Score one for the dyke in hoodies with the broad shoulders.