Montage: INT. DESERTED OFFICE FLOOR – DAY

Preston walks, flanked by Valerie and Gordon. Music starts: “Lust for Life” by Iggy Pop.

Thimbleby looks up from the files, finishes the last bite of his sandwich, and brushes the crumbs off his suit jacket.

The camera zooms into Preston’s eyes, then Thimbleby’s eyes, then Valerie’s eyes, then Gordon’s eyes, one of which he rubs with a finger.

Thimbleby pulls out a blank audit checklist. He clicks the end of his pen.

Gordon draws diagrams and equations on the whiteboard and explains them to Thimbleby.

Valerie tries to lift a box of lever arch files, but cannot.

Ticks are placed in the boxes of a checklist.

Thimbleby removes his spectacles, breathes on them, and wipes them clean.

Valerie wipes beads of perspiration from her forehead.

Gordon draws more diagrams and equations on the whiteboard.

Thimbleby puts his spectacles back on, then perches them on the end of his nose, looking over them and practising a hard stare. Then he pushes them back up the bridge of his nose.

Sweat trickles down Gordon’s forehead.

Valerie uses a calculator.

Thimbleby takes off his spectacles with a dramatic sweeping gesture. He puts one arm in his mouth, and bites on it.

Valerie tries to lift the box of files again. She gives up and crouches down to push the box along the floor.

Gordon steps from the whiteboard and flops into a chair that Valerie has pulled over for him. Preston puts a white towel around Gordon’s neck and rubs his shoulders. Valerie holds a wastepaper bin; Gordon spits into it. Preston slaps Gordon on the shoulders. Gordon stands up, stretches his neck from side to side, then returns to the whiteboard.

Preston holds 5 invoices, fanned out and face down. Thimbleby picks one, like picking a card. He holds it in two hands, and shows it to everyone.

Valerie sits on the ground with her back to the box of files. She pushes it along whilst shuffling her bottom.

Preston joins Gordon and adds to the whiteboard diagram.

Crosses are placed in the boxes of a checklist.

Sweat pours down Preston’s face.

Valerie completes her calculator sums. She turns around the calculator, revealing the word ‘boobless’ on the display, to the hilarity of everyone but Thimbleby.

Preston staples a thick pile of papers. The staple does not go in properly; he pulls it out and tries again. This happens a second time. Preston grips the papers and forces the staple through. When he tries to put the papers down, they are stapled to his finger.

Valerie is on all fours, trying to push the box of files with her head. Gordon and Preston pick up several files from within the box, then pick up Valerie too.

Thimbleby sweats profusely, mopping it with a handkerchief. Then he rings out the handkerchief.

Valerie joins Gordon and Preston at the whiteboard, turning the diagrams into the picture of a smiling face.

A cross is placed in the final box in the checklist.

Thimbleby shuts his audit file, with the sound of a coffin lid closing. He walks away, leaving the others shellshocked.

Music fades. Words flash: “89 audit points and out”.

Valerie lies on the desk, exhausted. Gordon sits with his head on the table, depressed. Preston wipes the whiteboard.

VALERIE: 89 audit points.

PRESTON: That’s good. I was expecting 100.

GORDON: Nearly half of them are for me.

PRESTON: Take it as a compliment. It means you work hard. The less you do, the less there is to audit.

VALERIE: Gordon, be wary of Preston’s compliments. Can I go home now?

PRESTON: Don’t miss your train.

Valerie jumps up and walks out.

GORDON: Preston, you said you wanted me to help with one quick question.

PRESTON: There was one quick question. And an awful lot of slow ones.

Int. Office Canteen – Day

Gordon and Tina sit at a table, facing each other and chatting as they eat. Preston leads Valerie across the canteen to join them, carrying their trays of food. Preston sits alongside Tina, across from Valerie. Valerie sits alongside Gordon, across from Preston. The conversation criss-crosses between the four of them.

PRESTON: (to Gordon) Gordon, you’re going to have to come up and answer a quick audit question.

GORDON: (to Preston) I don’t think I will. Last time I was asked a quick audit question, it took a week to answer it.

TINA: (to Valerie) Hello. My name is Tina and this is Gordon.

VALERIE: Pleased to meet you. I’m Valerie.

GORDON: (to Valerie) Sorry, hello, I’m Gordon.

PRESTON: (to Valerie) Yes, Valerie, this is Tina and Gordon.

VALERIE: I think we’ve established that.

PRESTON: This is Valerie’s first day. She’s a graduate developee.

GORDON: (to Valerie) Are you working with Preston?

PRESTON: It’s strictly temporary.

VALERIE: That’s right. Temporary. I should be in Marketing.

PRESTON: Valerie studied marketing.

TINA: Gordon wants to be in Marketing too.

GORDON: Yes I do. That’s where they make the big bucks.

PRESTON: (to Gordon) You want to work in Marketing? Why would you want to work in Marketing?

Tina glares at Preston. Preston turns toward Valerie.

PRESTON: (to Valerie) Not that there’s anything wrong with Marketing. Per se.

GORDON: I want a promotion, and more money.

PRESTON: You’re so materialistic, Gordon.

TINA: Yeah, Gordon.

GORDON: I don’t want to keep living in a flat with three blokes who always smell of beer, cigarettes and rugby socks.

PRESTON: Then move in with a woman. Women usually don’t smell of rugby socks. Unless they’re cheating on you with a rugby player.

TINA: (to Valerie) You’ll like working with Preston. He’s funny.

GORDON: (to Preston) Some women play rugby.

VALERIE: (to Tina) Yes. Funny. I can’t argue with that.

PRESTON: (to Gordon) But you wouldn’t want to go out with a woman rugby player.

TINA: (to Valerie) I mean, you’ll learn a lot from Preston. He’s very insightful.

GORDON: (to Preston) You’ve obviously not seen some of my ex’s. I may not want to go out with a rugby playing woman, but I might have to. Or risk getting beaten up.

VALERIE: (to Tina) Compliance Certification just isn’t my kind of thing. I studied art.

PRESTON: Certification Compliance.

GORDON: (to Preston) Anyway, I don’t even have a girlfriend right now. My girlfriend in South Africa dumped me.

TINA: (to Valerie) I thought you studied marketing?

PRESTON: (to Gordon) I can’t see how that makes a difference, really. She must have been around six thousand miles away.

Gordon vigorously nods his agreement.

VALERIE: (to Tina) I studied marketing and fine arts, joint honours.

PRESTON: (to Gordon) Enjoy your freedom, Gordon. Then get married to a hard-working woman with a proper job who’ll pay her share of the mortgage.

TINA: (to Valerie) That’s an interesting combination.

GORDON: (to Preston) I intend to enjoy my freedom, (whispers) each and every night if I can. (normal voice) But it would help if I had a decent place to take the girls back to.

TINA: (to Gordon) Gordon! Don’t talk like that!

GORDON: I didn’t know you were listening to our conversation. If I’d known you were listening, I wouldn’t have talked like that.

TINA: Women can talk and listen at the same time.

PRESTON: Which must be a very efficient time-saver. The best I can do is talking and ignoring people at the same time. Sometimes I don’t even attempt to talk, and I just concentrate all my efforts on ignoring people.

VALERIE: Women are born multi-taskers. It’s very efficient to listen whilst you’re talking.

GORDON: It’s like a superpower. A feminine superpower.

VALERIE: I suppose you could describe it like that.

PRESTON: Don’t encourage Gordon. He reads too many comics.

GORDON: But it’s not good to have superpowers in real life. People with superpowers would always be evil, in real life.

PRESTON: And he thinks about them. Too much.

VALERIE: Erm…

TINA: What Gordon means is that some of the motivation for characters in comic books wouldn’t make any sense in real life.

PRESTON: And you shouldn’t encourage him either.

TINA: I like reading comics too. I’ve got too many brothers not to.

VALERIE: But superheroes don’t exist in real life.

GORDON: Quite. But if superheroes existed in real life, they’d all be supervillians.

VALERIE: Why?

TINA: Because power corrupts.

GORDON: And absolute power corrupts absolutely. Think about it. Spiderman is Peter Parker during the day: a freelance photographer. Pfff… that makes no sense. He make a pittance and struggles to pay the rent. Temptation would be too great – he’d be a great catburglar instead.

PRESTON: Spider-cat-burglar.

GORDON: Exactly. And Clark Kent is supposedly an ordinary reporter during the day, living in a meagre apartment and driving a crappy car. But he’s Superman. Why would he settle for so little? He can fly. Why would he pay car tax? Could you imagine him waiting in line at airport security? Or letting some scumbag from Goldman Sachs push ahead at the taxi rank? That wouldn’t make any sense at all.

TINA: And Batman. He can beat anyone up, but during the day he’s just an ordinary… (beat) multi-billionaire… (beat) playboy…

GORDON: Batman doesn’t count. He’s not got any real superpowers. He’d be corrupt because he’s so filthy rich. Which I suppose is the point with Batman. He’s so corrupt that he gets his kicks from being an untouchable thrill-seeking vigilante, beating the life out of criminals whilst wearing a kinky suit, and protected by Commissioner Gordon.

PRESTON: So in conclusion, Gordon, power corrupts. And women shouldn’t listen to you, when you talk out loud. Nor men.

GORDON: You were correct on the first point. However, the rest was baffling nonsense.

PRESTON: Good, because I’m paid for my baffling nonsense. Now you’re coming with me to baffle my auditor. And Valerie knows not to listen to a word whilst you do.

Int. Deserted Office Floor – Day

THIMBLEBY (O.S.): Preston?

Thimbleby is round the corner from the meeting cubicles, sat at a small round table in front of Preston’s desk. He keeps drumming his fingers on a lever arch file, laying open in front of him.

PRESTON: Ah – you found the file I left for you.

Preston pulls the chair from behind his desk up to the table, and places it next to Thimbleby. There are no other chairs.

VALERIE: Where do I sit?

PRESTON: You’ll have to use your initiative.

Valerie sits on the edge of Preston’s desk, looking over his shoulder.

PRESTON: Do you have to sit there?

Valerie looks around. There is nowhere else to sit. She looks at the brain in the fishbowl, sitting next to her, and reaches toward it, as if to move it and make room.

PRESTON: No, don’t touch that.

Preston leaps up and grabs the fishbowl away from Valerie, placing it well out of Valerie’s reach.

VALERIE: What is it, is it a…

THIMBLEBY: Preston! Can we please start now?

PRESTON: Yes, we may.

Preston sits back down again, but Valerie is once again looking over his shoulder. Thimbleby is about to speak, but Preston interrupts before he can start.

PRESTON: (to Thimbleby) May we swap places?

THIMBLEBY: No.

PRESTON: Okay.

Preston shuffles his chair around the round table, away from Thimbleby.

THIMBLEBY: Can we begin?

Preston holds his hand up. He shuffles his chair further around the table.

THIMBLEBY: Preston?

Preston shuffles his chair further around the round table.

THIMBLEBY: Hmmmm.

Preston holds his hand up again, then shuffles his chair the rest of the way around the table, until he is sitting alongside Thimbleby, on the opposite side from which he started. Preston crowds so close to Thimbleby that Thimbleby moves his chair to make some room. They have now reversed their starting positions. Valerie is now looking over Thimbleby’s shoulder.

THIMBLEBY: Ready?

PRESTON: Ready. (to Valerie) Ready?

VALERIE: Ready.

PRESTON: Let the auditing commence.

THIMBLEBY: I’ve been going through your files.

PRESTON: Indeed.

THIMBLEBY: And I’ve already noted some anomalies.

PRESTON: Have you?

THIMBLEBY: Which I wanted to ask you about.

PRESTON: Then ask away.

THIMBLEBY: On page 17 of this test report, I see that the error rate of your internal test regime is more than 100 times too high.

PRESTON: Ah, well you know why that is, don’t you? It’s because we did 100 times too many tests. Let me see who wrote that report.

Preston examines the report with mock seriousness.

PRESTON: Now I understand. This report wasn’t done by our test team. It was compiled by our Business Intelligence team, by aggregating all the results from our test team. We’ll need to speak to the report author to understand what’s gone wrong.

Preston walks around to his desk and makes a call. He puts the call on speaker.

GORDON (V.O.): Hello?

PRESTON: Hi Gordon, it’s Preston. I’m here with our auditor and with…

VALERIE: Valerie.

PRESTON: Valerie, who’s new. Anyway, the auditor has some questions about the intelligence report you did, summarizing our test results. Are you free to talk about it?

GORDON (V.O.): I’ve just sat down to lunch.

PRESTON: Is it lunchtime already? So it is. Well that’s perfect. We’ll all come down and join you. See you in a minute.

Preston hangs up.

THIMBLEBY: I brought sandwiches.

PRESTON: You did? Oh, that’s a shame. But it is lunchtime, so let’s take a break now. Valerie and I will go down to the canteen, ask Gordon your questions, and come back prepared to give you the answers. (to Valerie) Valerie?

Preston briskly walks off, with Valerie rushing to catch up. Thimbleby sits in silence at the table, one hand resting on the lever arch file, the other scratching his head. He then realizes his mistake, but Preston and Valerie have already exited to the stairwell at the far side of the floor.

THIMBLEBY: But I haven’t told you what I wanted to know, yet!

Int. Deserted Office Floor – Day

Preston opens a door and leads Valerie on to the first floor of the building. It is seemingly deserted. There is no office furniture, only indents in the carpet where the furniture used to be. The only other evidence of former use are the glass-fronted meeting cubicles lining the wall on one side. Preston walks ahead but Valerie stops, concerned about where Preston is taking her and angry at how she has been treated. Preston, noticing that Valerie is not following, stops also, and turns back to face her. He stands in silence, looking at her. Behind him, a tumbleweed rolls by.

VALERIE: (peeved) I thought we were going to your desk.

PRESTON: We are. It’s just round the corner.

VALERIE: But where’s everyone else?

PRESTON: They’re on the other floors.

VALERIE: Why isn’t anyone on this floor?

PRESTON: I’m impressed by you asking that. They moved the people who were on this floor, apart from me.

VALERIE: Impressed by what? Why did they move them from this floor?

PRESTON: Impressed that you know the ‘five whys’; I wouldn’t expect a new graduate to know that technique. So they could rent out this floor to another company.

VALERIE: What’s the ‘five whys’? And why didn’t they move you too?

PRESTON: It’s a technique where you keep asking why, why, why, over and over, until you get to the real root of a problem. They didn’t move me because they forgot they employed me, and when they finally remembered, there wasn’t any space left to put me on any other floor.

VALERIE: I’ve never heard of the ‘five whys’, but I guess it makes sense. Why is it five and not six or seven? And why didn’t they move some of the people back?

PRESTON: Don’t get hung up on the number of whys – the point is to keep asking until you can’t ask any more. Management didn’t want to appear foolish and didn’t have any budget left to pay the company that moved people’s desks first time. Or maybe they’re going to fire me soon.

VALERIE: I’m not just a graduate.

PRESTON: I didn’t say you are just a graduate. I just said that you are a new graduate. Although I’ll admit that you look a bit old to be a new graduate.

VALERIE: I took time out to travel. Before and after. And during. And what kind of management technique is no different to an insistent 8 year old?

PRESTON: Insistent 8 year olds have all the characteristics needed to be a Board member. Except for friends in high places.

Valerie laughs. It releases some of her tension.

VALERIE: So you have this whole floor to yourself?

PRESTON: Not any more.

Deep in the basement of Preston Dirges’ office lurks the Business Intelligence team, two people who can afford to spend the day talking to each other, because nobody else talks to them…

Int. Windowless Basement Office

Gordon and Tina sit at their PCs in a dingy windowless office originally designed for just one person. Their desks face each other. A sign on the open door reads: “Business Intelligence”. Gordon punches the air in delight.

GORDON: I’ve done it!

TINA: Done what?

GORDON: Let me show you.

Tina walks around to Gordon’s desk.

GORDON: I emailed it to you.

TINA: Oh.

Tina walks back to her desk. She impatiently taps on her keyboard, waiting for her email to update. Gordon walks around to Tina’s desk and looks over her shoulder.

TINA: I’ve got it. (beat) There’s no attachment.

GORDON: Sorry.

Gordon walks back to his desk.

GORDON: Okay.

They both get up from their seat at the same time, but both stop mid-movement, conscious that the other has also moved.

TINA: Okay – as in: you want me to come round now?

GORDON: Okay – as in: I sent it again.

They pause a moment, locked in their respective poses.

TINA: Why don’t I just come round to you?

GORDON: Okay.

Tina walks around behind Gordon and casually places one hand on his shoulder.

GORDON: Check this out.

Gordon presses a button. A spreadsheet, full of numbers, fills his screen.

TINA: (sarcastic) It’s a spreadsheet.

GORDON: The spreadsheet. The one that’s going to get me promoted to marketing.

Tina leans across Gordon and starts hitting cursor keys on the keyboard.

TINA: I can’t make sense of this. What does it tell me?

GORDON: We make cables, right? So what do customers most want in a cable?

TINA: They wants lots of things. They want good audio-video reproduction, they want them to be cheap, they want good them to be reliable.

GORDON: No. They want them to be the right length. So I analysed all the data I could get about where people put their TVs and computers and stereos, and analysed what would be the most popular lengths for cables.

TINA: (bored) Great.

GORDON: You haven’t heard the good part yet. The lengths of our cables are a good match for the most popular lengths.

TINA: Good. How does that get you a promotion?

GORDON: Think about it. If we’re making cables that are the right length, then we’re not making as much money as we should.

TINA: Sorry?

GORDON: We charge more for longer cables. And we charge even more for extensions to cables. So we want our cables to be too long or too short. Then we’ll make more by selling long cables, and we’ll sell more extensions when people buy cables that are too short.

TINA: That’s insane Gordon. What about the cost of people returning cables because they can’t use them?

GORDON: It’s factored into my spreadsheet – see this. But look here – the analysis shows that, even after costs, the company could boost profits by 8%, just by changing the lengths of the cables we make.

TINA: Good for you, Gordon. How are you going to get anyone to see this?

Gordon is discouraged. He shrugs his shoulders and does not answer. With her hand on his shoulder, Tina gives Gordon a comforting squeeze.

TINA: Did you have a good weekend?

GORDON: Yes. That reminds me of something I have to show you.

Gordon goes to his coat, which is hanging from the handle of a storage cupboard. He pulls out an envelope from a coat pocket, and hands it to Tina.

TINA: What’s this?

Tina opens the envelope, and pulls out a hand-made card whilst Gordon looks on, smiling. Tina looks at the front of the card.

TINA: It’s a Valentine’s card. You made it yourself? (smiles) This is a really lovely surprise…

Tina opens the card. Inside the card reads “to Stella”.

TINA: for your girlfriend. It’ll be a lovely surprise for her.

Gordon is oblivious to the stumble in Tina’s reaction.

GORDON: Do you think so? Great. I wanted to know what you thought before I posted it. I spent the weekend making it, but I didn’t want to show it to the guys round the apartment.

TINA: No, it’s a really good job. Making something yourself is so much more… (pause) thoughtful. She’ll love it.

Tina hands the card back and walks back to her desk.

GORDON: I’ll have to post it this lunchtime, or it won’t arrive in time.

TINA: Do you miss her, Gordon? It must be hard, with you being here and her still being in South Africa.

GORDON: There’s Skype, although the connection is terrible her end. And we email a lot, though she’s not emailed me for a week. She didn’t like the e-card I sent her for her birthday, so I need to make more effort this time.

TINA: Good.

The conversation ends, and both start typing on their keyboards.

GORDON: I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive. I should have asked about your boyfriend, Alan.

TINA: Alvin. We split up three months ago.

GORDON: That’s right. Sorry. So you don’t have any plans for Valentine’s Day then?

TINA: Yeah, yeah, I have plans. (pause) I’ve got a hot date.

GORDON: Cool. What’s he called?

Tina’s eyes dart around the room desperately, trying to find inspiration. Gordon never takes his eyes from his computer screen, and keeps typing at his keyboard without interruption. Tina looks at her desk tidy, and the pens standing in it.

TINA: Penn.

GORDON: Penn? You don’t hear that name often. Is he from round here?

TINA: No, he’s not. He’s from…

Tina looks around again, panicked. There’s a Pepsi can on her desk.

TINA: Can. A-da. Canada.

GORDON: Oh. Je suppose que son nom est français d’origine. N’est-ce pas?

TINA: (baffled) Yeah.

Tina tries to think of something else to say, but cannot.

TINA: Yeah.

GORDON: So where did you meet him?

Tina notices the holepunch on her desk.

TINA: Punch… ing. Punching. Boxing. I met him at my boxercise class.

GORDON: You didn’t say you started doing boxercise. When did you start?

TINA: It was a new year’s resolution.

GORDON: Get fit? Good for you. So where’s Penn taking you this weekend?

There is a stapler on Tina’s desk.

TINA: Staples.

GORDON: Staples?

TINA: Sta-bles. Horse stables. Horse riding. We’re going horse riding at the horse stables.

GORDON: Wow, you’re suddenly turning sporty. I thought you’d want to spend Valentine’s chilling out, enjoying food, wine and chocolate.

TINA: Well, yeah. But that’s why I’m being sporty, so I can enjoy more of the good things without them going to my hips.

Gordon is still completely focused on his computer screen, typing as he talks.

GORDON: You don’t need to worry about that. You’ve got a great figure.

Tina sits up in her chair. She half-smiles.

GORDON: Most men prefer women with a bit of meat on them.

Tina stops smiling, unsure how to respond.

TINA: Thanks, Gordon. (pause) It’s nearly lunch. Are you posting your card before, or after?

GORDON: Are you hungry? Let me just check my email first.

TINA: No, I’m not hungry. I was just wondering when you wanted to eat.

Gordon does not answer. His eyes are locked on his screen.

TINA: Gordon?

GORDON: (sad) I won’t need to post my card after all.

Tina walks around to Gordon’s desk.

TINA: What’s happened?

GORDON: Stella’s dumped me.

TINA: By email?

GORDON: She couldn’t get a good connection on Skype. (pause) Do you want to read what she wrote?

TINA: Read it? No. (pause) No, I don’t want to. (pause) Go on then.

Gordon rolls his chair to one side, making it easier for Tina to lean towards the screen.

TINA: (reading aloud) Dear Gordon, I think you can sense we’ve grown distant this last year, especially as you’re ten thousand miles away in England.

GORDON: Actually it’s six thousand miles, or ten thousand kilometres.

TINA: (reading aloud) I think it is time we both moved on with our lives, and I’m sure it won’t be long before you find someone close to you in England. (beat) I have a new love in my life. He’s called Koos (pronounced ‘coups’)…

GORDON: Koos (pronounced ‘kwis’)

TINA: (reading aloud) Koos van der Merwe

GORDON: Sounds like a made-up name.

TINA: (reading aloud) and I think he may be my soulmate. It would be wrong to see him without breaking off with you first, although I’ve seen him a few times already, if I’m honest. I know you’ll understand and we’ll be friends forever. Love, Stella.

Gordon gets up and puts the Valentine’s card back into his coat pocket.

TINA: I’m sorry Gordon.

GORDON: Don’t worry about it. Like she says, I’m going to go out and find somebody new. Plenty more fish in the sea. It’s just a shame you’re taken, or I’d ask you out this weekend.

TINA: (shocked) Would you?

GORDON: Sure. If the two of us worked as a team, we’d both find someone in no time. I’d find a bloke for you and you’d find a girl for me. But now you’ve got a new boyfriend, so that’s out.

TINA: That’s right.

GORDON: Come on, let’s eat. I’m hungry. And you don’t need to diet, now that you’re doing all that exercise.

Gordon affectionately punches Tina on the arm.

TINA: Ow! Gordon!

GORDON: Sorry.

Int. Open-Plan Office – Day

Preston knocks on the door of David Rubnick’s office, then opens it without waiting to be asked. Rubnick is staring out of the window, drinking his mug of coffee.

RUBNICK: Preston! Why don’t you just barge in?

PRESTON: Good suggestion. But too late – I already have. I brought you something urgent.

He gestures towards Valerie, who follows him in.

RUBNICK: Hello Valerie. It’s good to see you again.

Rubnick walks around to warmly shake Valerie’s hand.

RUBNICK: I was worried that you were delayed – held up in traffic or some such.

VALERIE: No, no, I arrived on time.

RUBNICK: Yes. (pause) Well, you’re here now. And you’ve already met Preston. Preston’s getting ahead of himself, aren’t you?

Preston looks blankly at Rubnick, not comprehending his meaning.

RUBNICK: I’m afraid, Valerie, that our Marketing Manager for the Western Region, Tyler, has had some marital difficulties and won’t be in the office until… well, we don’t know when. There are no other openings in Marketing, so we’re going to place you with a mentor in another department. Preston’s department, in fact.

PRESTON: (shocked) What? I’m the only person in my department.

RUBNICK: Not any more.

VALERIE: (confused) Excuse me?

RUBNICK: Sorry Valerie. I know you had your heart set on marketing.

VALERIE: I did my degree in marketing.

RUBNICK: Exactly. But we all believe our the graduate developees need to be flexible, and should learn how the rest of the business works too. Then you’ll know how to market us through and through. Preston can certainly help you with that.

PRESTON: This is the first I’ve heard about this.

RUBNICK: Didn’t you read the email? I sent it Sunday morning.

PRESTON: That would explain why I didn’t read it.

RUBNICK: Don’t tell me you don’t have a company Blackberry?

PRESTON: Alright, I won’t tell you.

RUBNICK: We shall have to get you one. Just drop the forms by Linda and she’ll order you one. Now I’m sorry, but I’ll have to dash. There’s a board meeting, so I’ll have to let Preston handle your induction. I did set some time aside to handle it myself, but you did arrive late…

Valerie wants to protest, but Rubnick has ushered Valerie and Preston out of the room and walked briskly away. Valerie and Preston are left standing, bemused.

RUBNICK: (shouting back to Preston) And Preston, make sure Valerie gets a Blackberry too.

PRESTON: (to Valerie) Do you want a Blackberry?

VALERIE: Yes, I would.

PRESTON: Trust me, you don’t.

Preston turns back and walks the opposite way from Rubnick, back towards the stairs. Valerie, left with no other choice, hesitates, then follows Preston.

Int. Bedroom – Morning

An alarm clock buzzes. It is 7am.

PRESTON (V.O.): 1. Alarm clock. Wake. Set it back 5 minutes. Sleep 5 minutes. Wake. Set it back 5 minutes. Sleep 5 minutes. Get out of bed urgently.

Int. Bathroom – Morning

A figure, Valerie, is showering behind a curtain. There is the sound of an electric toothbrush.

PRESTON (V.O.): 2. Brush teeth whilst showering and washing hair. 5 minutes max. If you shower longer, then you use more water than a bath. Use a gentle shampoo. That way you can wash your hair every day. Don’t waste time with conditioner. Piss for sure, poo only if necessary. Shave if you’re a man, though beards are quicker. Some people have an irrational dislike of beards.

Int. Bedroom – Morning

Valerie is glimpsed opening a wardrobe door and standing behind it, tossing clothes from it to her bed.

PRESTON (V.O.): 3. Dress. Quickly. Don’t choose what to wear, just take the next item on the rail – it’ll be fine. Briefly check your appearance in the mirror, using fingers to fix hair. Regret that your shoes need polishing, but there’s never time for that.

Int. Kitchen – Morning

A toaster stands idle. Valerie is glimpsed walking past the kitchen doorway.

PRESTON (V.O.): 4. There’s never time for breakfast, either.

Montage

Jumble of images: commuters boarding trains, driving cars, waiting at tube platforms, people walking and crossing roads, people standing on buses, red traffic lights, ticket barriers.

PRESTON (V.O.): 5. Your journey to work is the most important part of the day. Know at least three alternative routes, in case of disaster, repair, weather or strikes. On the way, read a paper or listen to the news on the radio; even small pieces of information can lend authority. Avoid being late if at all possible.

Ext. Office building – Morning

Valerie walks towards the main doors of an office building.

PRESTON (V.O.): The time you arrive is one of the very few things your bosses can systematically measure.

Valerie looks up at the building and hesitates, letting others enter ahead of her. Then she enters too.

Int. Office Building – Morning

A middle-aged man, Preston, has turned from his desk towards the window. He looks down at the people arriving at work. He holds a coffee mug in his hand, and takes a noisy sip. He drinks like that because the coffee is too hot to drink otherwise. The mug has a business logo on it; it was a gift from a supplier.

PRESTON: 6. The rest of your working day will be unimportant. So relax.

A voice talks to Preston but we do not see the source.

DISEASED MIND: You don’t seem very relaxed.

Preston replies without turning away from the window.

PRESTON: You’re right.

He takes another noisy sip from his mug.

DISEASED MIND: Rules 1 to 3 are good. Rule 4 is superfluous. Rule 5 is too general. And rule 6 is a suggestion, not a rule. If it was a rule, you’d always be breaking it.

PRESTON: I’ll rewrite them later today.

Preston turns away from the window, towards his desk.

PRESTON: So tell me, what’s on my mind this morning?

The camera tracks back to reveal what Preston is talking to. On his desk there is a grey human brain, slightly smaller than average, immersed in a spherical goldfish bowl.

DISEASED MIND: Proposition 1…

PRESTON: Nothing ever changes.

DISEASED MIND: and Proposition 2.

PRESTON: Nothing we do ever makes the slightest bit of difference. In other words, the same as usual?

DISEASED MIND: No. They’re going to be tested today.

A fire alarm blares out unexpectedly.

Int. Office Reception – Morning

Valerie is standing in front of the reception desk. A young male security guard sits behind it. She is startled by the alarm. People stream past, joining the queue to swipe their pass and go through the full-height security gates.

GUARD: (shouting over the alarm) Don’t worry, it’s just a test.

The alarm stops on the word ‘test’.

GUARD: (still shouting) See? (lowers voice to normal) See? They test the alarm every week, at random times.

VALERIE: How will anyone know when there’s a real fire?

GUARD: (pauses, thinking) The alarm will go on for longer. (beat) Can I help?

Valerie relaxes a little and places her hand on the reception counter.

VALERIE: My name is Valerie Valencourt. I’m here to see David Rubnick.

GUARD: Is it your first day?

VALERIE: Yes, yes it is.

The guard looks over a list attached to a clipboard on his desk. He runs his finger very slowly down the list. He turns over the pages methodically, and slowly. He does this for three full pages, by which time he has gone through the whole list. He shakes his head.

GUARD: No, you’re not on the correct list. Let me see if you’re on the wrong list.

The guard pulls out a second clipboard and checklist, runs through it, as before. Valerie tries not to appear impatient.

GUARD: I’m sorry, you’re not on that list either.

The guard sits looking at Valerie, with an air of finality. Valerie pauses for a while, expecting the guard to continue, and then realizes he is not going to.

VALERIE: But I am here.

Valerie smiles and looks at the guard. He does not know what she wants. She smiles and rapidly directs her eyes from the guard, to his phone, back to the guard, and back to the phone.

VALERIE: Could you call him?

GUARD: Who?

VALERIE: David Rubnick.

GUARD: Well, I would, but you’re not on my list. And that means his number isn’t on my list either. On either of them.

He holds up the first clipboard and list to show Valerie, as if to prove his point.

GUARD: You should call him instead.

Valerie rummages around her handbag and pulls out her phone and some A4 sheets of paper where she has printed out emails. She checks her phone and turns over the pages. She fumbles through them, subtly revealing her nervousness. An older man, Thimbleby, interrupts by walking up to the counter and addressing the guard directly.

THIMBLEBY: Don Thumbleby for Preston Dirges.

Valerie stands to one side to make more room for Thimbleby, who crowded her. Though she has not found the number for David Rubnick, she bites her lip and waits patiently for the guard to finish with Thimbleby. Thimbleby fills out the visitor’s log whilst the guard checks his list and calls Preston. Valerie’s phone starts to ring as she holds it.

VALERIE: Hello?

RUBNICK (O.S.): Is that Valerie? It’s Dave Rubnick here. Are you on your way?

VALERIE: I’m at reception right now…

Rubnick interrupts her mid-sentence. Meanwhile, the guard hands visitor passes to both Valerie and Thimbleby.

RUBNICK (O.S.): Great. I’m in my office, waiting for you. Fifth floor. Come straight up.

The line goes dead. In the background, Preston arrives at the far side of the security gates.

VALERIE: Can I just go up? That was Mr. Rubnick on the phone. I’m late.

Valerie turns and briskly walks to the security gate, unsuccessfully swiping the visitor’s pass that she has just been given.

GUARD: Miss! I can’t just let you go through. Mr. Rubnick needs to come down to collect you.

Valerie turns back to the guard, flustered. Behind the gate, Preston raises a hand in the guard’s direction, attracting his attention. Thimbleby steps in front of Valerie, and the guard presses a button to open the gate for Thimbleby. It closes in Valerie’s face as she attempts to push through behind Thimbleby. Preston steps up to the other side of the see-through plastic gate, and talks to Valerie. The gate is closed between them, but their faces are unusually close together.

PRESTON: (to Valerie) Are you having some difficulties?

GUARD: Miss!

PRESTON: (to the guard) It’s okay, let me deal with it.

VALERIE: It’s my first day, and I’m late. I need to see David Rubnick in HR.

PRESTON: Dave Rubberduck?

VALERIE: David Rubnick.

PRESTON: That’s what I said.

VALERIE: No, you said…

Valerie stops, realizing she does not want to continue her sentence.

PRESTON: (to the guard) Don’t worry, I’ll take her up.

GUARD: I can’t let her through.

PRESTON: Why not?

GUARD: She didn’t ask for you.

PRESTON: (whispering to Valerie) You could ask for me now.

VALERIE: (whispering to Preston) Good idea.

Valerie turns to the guard, and opens her mouth to speak. She stops herself and turns back to Preston.

VALERIE: (whispering to Preston) What’s your name?

PRESTON: (whispering to Valerie) It’s…

THIMBLEBY: (impatient) Preston?

VALERIE: (whispered) Preston! (to guard) I’m here to see Mr. Preston, please.

Preston waves a hand towards Thimbleby, dismissively, indicating he should be patient. Meanwhile, with his other hand, Preston is giving a thumbs up to the guard.

GUARD: Well I don’t know. (pause) What’s his surname?

VALERIE: Preston.

GUARD: Wrong.

PRESTON: (to guard) Have you checked to see if my name is on the list?

The guard picks up his clipboard and list, and starts to run his finger through it, again.

Whilst continuing to look toward the guard, Preston pulls out his swipe card, and pokes it through the gap in the security gate. The guard’s view of this is obscured by Valerie. Valerie hesitates to take Preston’s card at first. Preston shakes his card at her, whilst still looking at the guard.

PRESTON: (whispering to Valerie, without moving his lips) Come on then.

GUARD: No, you’re not on this list.

The guard holds up his list, and taps on it, as if to show Preston, even though they are standing far too far apart for Preston to be able to actually see what is written on it.

PRESTON: Why don’t you look at the other one?

GUARD: I was just about to do that.

Valerie grabs Preston’s access card, swipes it, and hurries through the gate. The guard steps around as if to chase her, but stops as they disappear up the fire stairs. The guard sits back down at his counter, muttering to himself and shaking his head.

Int. Fire Escape Stairwell

Preston is marching up the stairs, taking them two at a time and counting them as he does. Thimbleby and Valerie follow behind.

PRESTON: Four, six…

VALERIE: Thank you.

PRESTON: …eight. Don’t mention it. Ten.

Thimbleby tries to keep pace with Preston but cannot. Valerie, in her heeled shoes, is even further behind. She makes noisy progress. Preston reaches the first floor landing and waits. Thimbleby joins Preston on the landing, and eyes him curiously, but Preston pretends not to notice. Preston talks to Valerie instead.

PRESTON: Come on, I thought you said you were late.

VALERIE: I wasn’t late. I arrived on time. It was the guard that made me late.

PRESTON: It’s not good to be late, for whatever reason. People don’t like to wait. I know I hate waiting.

Valerie arrives at the landing, a little out of breath. Preston is holding out his hand, with the palm upwards. She takes it, thinking Preston means to help her with the final step. Preston shakes Valerie’s hand, in a parody of a handshake, but with his palm still facing upward. She lets go, but he still holds his hand out.

PRESTON: My pass?

VALERIE: Oh, yes. Here you are.

She hands Preston his pass. He swipes to open the fire escape door, and holds it open for Thimbleby. As Thimbleby walks through, Preston shuts the door behind Thimbleby and shouts at him through it.

PRESTON: I just need to take this young lady up to the fifth floor. You don’t mind waiting, do you?

It is obvious from Thimbleby’s expression that he does mind. Preston acts like he’s oblivious to Thimbleby’s reaction, turning and marching up the next flight stairs, once again counting as he does. He goes a little more slowly this time, so it is easier, but still difficult, for Valerie to keep pace.

VALERIE: I thought you said it was rude to keep people waiting?

PRESTON: Sixteen. It is. Eighteen.

VALERIE: Then what about him?

PRESTON: Him? Twenty. Thimbleby? Twenty-two. He’s not people. Twenty-four. He’s an auditor.

VALERIE: That’s not a very nice thing to say. What’s your job, that you should be so unkind to an auditor?

PRESTON: Thirty. My job? Thirty-two. I’m an auditor, I suppose. Thirty-four.

VALERIE: Then what makes you better than him?

PRESTON: Thirty-eight. Well, because he audits me – forty – and doesn’t know what he’s doing. And because – forty-two – I do know what I’m doing. That’s two reasons why – Forty-four – I’m better than him. Forty-six. But don’t worry – forty-eight – I’ll make it up to him. Fifty. He’s going to find plenty of things wrong – fifty-two – with my work – fifty-four – and that’ll make us both very happy. Fifty-six.

VALERIE: (breathless) Why would that make you happy?

PRESTON: Fifty-eight. Because he’ll find all the things – sixty – I want him to find – sixty-two – and that means – sixty-four – he’ll be so busy and so satisfied – sixty-six – that he won’t find any of the things – sixty-eight – that I don’t want him to find. Seventy!

Preston reaches a landing and momentarily turns back to face Valerie.

PRESTON: So we’ll both go home happy. He’ll feel like he made a difference, whilst I ensured he didn’t make me any trouble that I didn’t want him to make for me.

Valerie joins Preston on the landing. She tries to suppress the urge to pant.

VALERIE: Can’t we take the lift?

Preston stops and looks around momentarily, then thinks.

PRESTON: No, we can’t. First, taking the stairs is actually faster than waiting for the lift. Second, walking upstairs helps you stay fit. Third, it’s a better use of time than staying fit by going down the gym after work. And fourth, we’ve already arrived at the fifth floor.

Preston swipes his card and opens the door for Valerie.