Int. Preston’s Office Floor – Day
Valerie returns to Preston’s work area to find Preston and Kirsty shouting.
PRESTON: I can’t tell you anything because there’s nothing to tell.
KIRSTY: Today’s the reporting deadline, Preston. You know the rules, same as for everyone else, though you always give the same excuses.
Kirsty pounds Preston’s desk with her fist. It shakes the brain in a bowl.
BRAIN: Hey! Are you going to let her talk like that to you?
PRESTON: No I’m not… giving excuses. But there’s no point producing endless reports that management don’t know what to do with. Let me do my job, and I’ll tell you when there’s something worth telling.
KIRSTY: Tell me the current status of the audit findings.
PRESTON: Current status? Nearly finished. It’ll all be completed by the end of the week.
The fire alarm goes off.
BRAIN: Oh-oh. A good time to scramble. But don’t leave me to be scrambled.
Preston puts a lid on the brain in the bowl, and walks away with it under one arm. Kirsty doesn’t move.
KIRSTY: Preston, don’t you run away from me. Preston!
As Preston passes Valerie, he takes hold of her hand.
PRESTON: I won’t leave you with that woman. She’s not a good role model.
They descend the stairs. Preston counts them, backwards.
PRESTON: 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, zero.
Preston exits through the fire doors, continuing to drag Valerie. They march half way across the car park by the time alarm stops. Preston keeps marching towards his car.
VALERIE: Preston, the alarm’s stopped. Preston!
PRESTON: We can’t go back. Reportgirl will be waiting for us.
PRESTON: Kirsty. She goes from desk to desk, compiling reports. And that’s all she ever does. It makes her powerful, though it’s not even real work. That’s what they call management aptitude, or something like that. Pushing paper and stealing credit , that’s what I call it.
BRAIN: I’m cold.
Preston arrives at his car.
VALERIE: Where are you going?
PRESTON: Let’s warm ourselves up.
Preston puts the brain on the back seat, takes a wooly hat from the glove compartment, and puts it over the brain.
PRESTON: Come on, get in.
Valerie reluctantly gets in the car.