Monday, February 22, 2010

Pretending to be an asshole is one thing, but some poor souls are stuck that way

I try not to be too big of a jackass in my real life, but acting the role of a remorseless prick can be a real hoot. The same is true of writing the parts for such characters. And foul language, goddamn how I do relish it, and I give not one flying fuck what the simpletons have to say about the relationship between one's use of profanity and the limits of their vocabulary. Oh, and making up technical terms about stuff I know not one thing about, that's fun too. All of that is what made this one here a lot of fun to write.

BONUSES

A table in a posh bar. Three well-off looking dudes, John, Scott, and Brad, sit around it and yes, they’ve been drinking. Brad is pissed off about something, Scott is laughing out loud at him, John is smiling smugly behind his drink.

BRAD
What the fuck?

SCOTT
Fifteen?

BRAD
That’s right.

JOHN
Don’t spend it all in one place, bro.

SCOTT
Dude, I’d be pissed if I was you.

BRAD
Why? How much did you assholes get?

SCOTT
Hey, don’t worry, okay? I got this round.

JOHN
You’re gonna have to go on welfare, yo.

SCOTT
No more organic for you, bro.

JOHN
Gonna have to cancel your gym membership.

SCOTT
And cable.

JOHN
Don’t tell your girlfriend, dude.

SCOTT
Fuck it, tell her. I’ll take that shit. You seen that shit?

JOHN
Indeed. Homeboy’s clearly been slipping something into old girl’s salad.

BRAD
Okay! Enough. I put my dick on the table, let’s see you guys. 

SCOTT
Testy, Bradley.

BRAD
Slap ‘em down. How much?

Carrie the waitress enters. 

CARRIE
You guys doing allright? Ready for another round?

JOHN
 Yes, please.

SCOTT
Shots! We ready for shots? We’re gonna need some shots.

JOHN
Let’s do it.

SCOTT
Don Roberto all around, please. We’re celebrating.


CARRIE
Great. I’ll have that right out. 

She exits.

BRAD
Okay, bitches. Numbers.

SCOTT
You hit that?

JOHN
No way, dude. Waitresses are fucking gross. 

SCOTT
What? I love that shit.

JOHN
That shit’s guaranteed herpes, bro.

SCOTT
I just like having a fine bitch fetch my alcohol for me.

JOHN
I’d let her suck my dick, though.

BRAD
            Snaps his fingers in their faces
Hey!

SCOTT
Get outta my face, fucker.

JOHN
Poverty’s got him turning violent already.

BRAD
I asked you a fucking question.

SCOTT
Oh we weren’t done laughing at your paltry little bonus, were we?

BRAD
We all started at the same fucking time. We’re the same fucking age. No way you guys got bigger bonuses than me. I do not accept that.

JOHN
Check it out. First stage of grief. Denial.

SCOTT
He’s gonna be bawling here in a minute. You’re gonna have to console him.

JOHN
I would, but between my massive bonus and my enormous cock, I can barely stand.

Carrie returns with their drinks.

CARRIE
Okay gentlemen, Don Roberto. 

JOHN
There it is.

CARRIE
And your beers.

SCOTT
Thank you so much. You are so awesome.

CARRIE
Aw, no, you guys are awesome.

SCOTT
Are we? Are we your most awesomest table tonight?

CARRIE
Mmmm, it’s a close race between you and those ladies over there in the corner.

SCOTT
Oh no way, those chicks aren’t awesome.

CARRIE
They’re not?

SCOTT
They’re totally gonna screw you on the tip. 

CARRIE
Oh no. How can you tell?

SCOTT
Attractive women hate other attractive women. It’s a proven fact. Besides, I work in finance. I can always spot a stingy bastard, regardless of gender.

CARRIE
Wow, I better watch my back, huh?

SCOTT
We’d all better.

She laughs at him and walks off. They all watch her walk off.

JOHN
I guess I’d hit that.

SCOTT
Who are those hoes in the corner?

JOHN
Who cares. Just let ‘em get a few more drinks in.

BRAD
Okay, fuck you guys. 

Brad gets up to leave.

SCOTT
Hey where you going? We’re just getting started here. We got shots.

BRAD
You can have mine.

SCOTT
Dude, come on. Sit down.

BRAD
No. I’m sick of you guys.

SCOTT
Dude.

JOHN
Come on Braddy boy.

SCOTT
We’re just fucking with you.

BRAD
So you didn’t get a bigger bonus?

JOHN
No, we totally did.

Scott laughs.

BRAD
You gonna tell me how much?

SCOTT
Dude, do this shot with us, okay? Please?

Brad considers, then sits back down.

JOHN
There he is.

They pick up their glasses.

SCOTT
Okay, so what are we drinking to?

JOHN
Big money, baby.

SCOTT
Fuck yeah.

JOHN
Except for Brad, who got the monetary equivalent of a used Toyota.


Scott laughs. Brad gets up to leave again, Scott grabs his arm.

SCOTT
Oh come on, dude, that was funny.

BRAD
I’m leaving, okay? I’m gonna go home and fuck my girlfriend. What are you guys gonna do? Sit here, get drunk, go home and jack off? Fuck the both of you.

JOHN
Dude, it was a joke. Quit being such a cuntrag about it.

SCOTT
It’s not us you’re mad at bro.

BRAD
I’d just feel a lot better about this if you guys would just tell me how much you got.

SCOTT
No you wouldn’t. You really wouldn’t.

BRAD
Try me.

SCOTT
Dude, come on. Sit down. Be cool. Do a shot with your bros. We’re celebrating.

He sits back down and they pick up their glasses again.

JOHN
Cheers.

They do their shots.

SCOTT
Ah, there it is.

BRAD
Okay, done. Now how much?

SCOTT
So what are you gonna spend that big fifteen-K on?

BRAD
Oh no, ah-ah. You first.

SCOTT
Because a used Toyota, while funny, probably not a great idea.

JOHN
Plus, what do you need a car for anyway? You live in the city.

BRAD
Motherfuckers. Okay, that’s it. For real this time, I’m leaving.

SCOTT
Oh come on, bro. Tell me and I’ll tell you.

BRAD
No you won’t.

SCOTT
I will! I totally will.

BRAD
You fucking swear?

SCOTT
I fucking swear.

BRAD
You too?

JOHN
Fuck it.

BRAD
I’m gonna use it to pay for my wedding.

SCOTT
I thought you already bought her a ring.

BRAD
I did. No, I mean the actual wedding. With this money, plus a few thou more I got socked away, that oughtta cover it.

JOHN
Isn’t the chick’s dad supposed to pay for that shit?

BRAD
Well they’re pitching in, but Heather’s family doesn’t really have a whole lot of money.

SCOTT
Wait, you’re marrying a poor bitch?

BRAD
She’s not poor. Her family’s middle class.

JOHN
Middle class?

SCOTT
Bro, listen, do you really want to be the rich son-in-law--

JOHN
Rich by their standards maybe.

SCOTT
Right. Do you really want to be they guy they ring up every time they need something paid for? Oh, grandma just lost her insurance and she needs her hip replaced.

JOHN
Oh, the bank’s gonna take our house.

SCOTT
Oh, we have to pay for grandpa’s funeral. 

JOHN
And if you dare try to say no, then you got your old lady on your back.

SCOTT
Fuck that shit.

JOHN
Fuck it in its ass.

SCOTT
In your ass.

BRAD
Okay, fuckers, I answered your stupid question. It’s your turn. Bonuses. How big?

SCOTT
Well let’s see here, I seem to recall, uh...well, shit. You know the exact figure was so astronomically large, I’ve totally forgotten it now.

BRAD
I will slap you. I’m going to slap you.

SCOTT
I can’t help it man! All those zeros stretching out into space.

JOHN
Like fucking Star Wars.

SCOTT
It boggles the mind.

BRAD
You know what? I don’t even care. I’m through with your stupid game.

Brad gets up to leave.

SCOTT
Oh come on, bro.

BRAD
Oh go die, bro.

SCOTT
Come on, man, let’s do some more shots. Let’s get fucked up and pick up some whores. Quit worrying about your fucking bonus.

BRAD
Tell me how much you got and I will.

SCOTT
Just let it go, man, okay?

BRAD
You gonna tell me how much you got?

SCOTT
Yes. Probably. Eventually.

BRAD
Fuck you.

Brad turns to leave.

JOHN
Ninety-seven nine.

SCOTT
What?

John mimes dropping his comically oversized penis on the table.

JOHN
Blaugh! How you like me now, bitches? Plenty of knob for all y’all to schlob.

BRAD
Ninety-seven nine?

JOHN
Sounds like a fucking radio station, doesn’t it?
       in radio voice
Ninety-seven nine, The Dick, playing all your mega-dick favorites.

SCOTT
How the fuck, dude? We all started at the same time!

JOHN
Yeah, and? I think it’s pretty obvious I bring the firm significantly greater value than either of you losers, and the boys up top know it. 

SCOTT
But ninety-seven thousand? That’s insane!

JOHN
I know, it’s criminal. I feel terrible.

SCOTT
John, dude, seriously. Tell me you’re full of shit.

JOHN
No can do, Scotty boy.

SCOTT
That’s just not right.

BRAD
So Scotty, I take it your bonus was significantly smaller?

SCOTT
Shut the fuck up! We’re both getting fucked in the ass here, you get that?

BRAD
And yet I’m still sort of enjoying this. 

SCOTT
How the fuck, dude?

JOHN
Look, what did you assholes work on this year? NG-487’s? Double K ten-thirties? Fucking glorified savings accounts.

SCOTT
Hey, I was a key contributor to that 487 rollout for Martindale!

JOHN
Key contributor? Don’t talk to me like I’m your fucking resume.

BRAD
All that means is you went to a few meetings.

JOHN
Straight up, homes.

SCOTT
So whose dick did you have to choke on?

JOHN
No fellatio involved, bro. Ross and Sorenstein had me in on devising one of the new SID’s.

SCOTT
SID’s?

JOHN
It’s basically an 87w but without the front-end interest credits. You pull in funds from investors and pool ‘em together in a long-term CMI with a minimum quarterly return.

BRAD
What’s the minimum?

JOHN
Anywhere from one to nine percent, depending on the seventh digit of the account number. So on the third Friday of every month, the returns are invested into a series of AM mutuals with 4a backends that are targeted for maturity every three quarters. Then at midnight of the maturity date, a computer runs a series of equations using the original investment capital, the add-on return percentage, the investor’s birthdate and marital status, the current position of the moon, and the top grossing film from the previous week. Depending on what it comes up with, it’ll either reinvest in the original CMI, open a new mutual, or just mail out checks to the investors. 

BRAD
Nice.

JOHN
Or, if the system comes up with a figure that goes out more than six decimal places, it kicks off a program that selects at random any one, three, or five of the top dozen performing stocks at the close of the bell that day, and invests the returns in those. These, in turn, are scheduled for sale on the Monday following the next national holiday.

SCOTT
They really had you working on this? 

JOHN
Fuck yes. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. We were churning on all sorts of other ideas how to keep the money going. We’re talking serious cash. 

BRAD
So how’d it do?

JOHN
In this economy? It fucking tanked. Had to shut the whole thing down.

SCOTT
Fucking Obama.

JOHN
Fucking Bush.

SCOTT
Fucking Clinton.

JOHN
Fucking Reagan.

SCOTT
Hey!

JOHN
What? You weren’t old enough to vote for him.

SCOTT
So let me get this straight. Your shit fucking tanked and they still dropped damn near a hundred K on your sorry ass?

JOHN
Hey, they recognize and reward talent. What can I say? They don’t want to lose me.

SCOTT
This is fucking bullshit. 

BRAD
So how much, Scott?

SCOTT
Fuck you.

JOHN
Come on, man. Spill it.

SCOTT
Where’s that fucking waitress?

JOHN
In the back sucking a dick, where you at?

BRAD
Come on, man. Out with it.

Pause for Scott’s reluctance.

SCOTT
Seventeen.

BRAD
Seventeen?

Brad bursts into laughter. Carrie reappears.

CARRIE
How you guys doing over here? Can I get you anything?

JOHN
We’re gonna need another round of shots over here.

Scott gets up and leaves in a huff.

BRAD
Oh come on, man! We’re celebrating!

CARRIE
So, two?

JOHN
Fuck it.

Scene.

1 comment:

sybil law said...

Holmes, this was fucking awesome.
Seriously.