it's not fucking me dude.
cocaine remains strewn across the floor. some of it has gotten red and rather chunky.
we were... i got us this warehouse for you dude. the guy wasn't gonna give it to us, i- how do you think i'm-
i know.
he's holding a handgun with both hands - earlier they had been shaking, but they have stopped for now. at the bottom of the gun is a tag labeled "for shooting"
you're not listening to me dude i fucking know it. don't fucking talk to me about-
the background check, that you did on me, that said i've never so much as interned with eminemicorp as long as i've been
BULLSHIT!!! bullshit. you're
so
fucking
i gotta think about it more, guys
look at the fucking report
they spend like half their time thinking up these
you got the
best agency
in this whole
you'd be surprised if they
couldn't
it's fucking media paranoia, they all
i think i have it figured out.
he raises the gun, steadily
you can't do this dude.
you're probably right
he pulls the trigger. the gun is sort of quiet - maybe the room doesn't echo well. the other guy had been quiet for the moment.
[bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum
bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum
]
look.
a bit of steam comes out of the gun. the guy drops it - clearly hot to the touch
if you had one shot...
windows start closing remotely
one opportunity...
the men lurch forward towards each other and begin to struggle. gas starts seeping into the room.
hisssssssssss
ssssssssssssss
sssssss
ssssss....
==
...which is why we need to fudge about 1,200 more background reports for this upcoming half-quarter. as boring and riskless of a venture it is, we've come this far without any smoking guns in the press about our arrangement and that's gotten us all the way.
they drop the telescoping pointer stick on the ground, as though dramatically.
right! and one last point, then you guys can go back to playing meth chess or what have you...
perfunctory office laughter
...just got a text this evening, the warehouse guys did it. they made it through!
several people clap. the presenter pops a confetti gun; the noise is nearly inaudible, and the confetti is quickly blown to hit the rear wall of the room.
oh shit except, one of them died. sadly!!
[aww.]
==
still, no music is playing. two people are sharing a barely-twin-sized bed; only one is asleep, building up a large pool of saliva. the other is staring at the ceiling. the third remains glued to the laptop.
you aren't still working on the sheet, are you?
no, it sank in this morning. they finished it just a few moments ago.
the room is intensely bright. the person at the laptop seems to be holding back tears, slightly
i know, it wasn't how it was supposed to go. they weren't both supposed to survive. we can look for-
it wasn't how it was supposed to go.