format gets messed up when i copy and paste. the end.
INT. OUTSIDE A TOILET
DERN pushes the CAMERA into a BATHROOM with his chest. No pushing.
NO, YOUíRE THE ASSHOLE!
YOUíRE THE FUCKING ASSHOLE!
YOUíRE THE FUCKING ASSóFUCK!
FUCK. YOU. ASSFUCKING.. SHITHOLE!
DERN takes a second to breathe. HE was speaking to a MIRROR.
HE begins writing what he just said onto some PAPER as SOMEONE ELSE enters.
INT. A NONDESCRIPT OFFICE SPACE
DERN enters the OFFICE. He walks with tree-trunk steps, heading straight for MR. GRETLER as he throws the PAPER into a TRASH CAN without looking.
Mr. Gretler.. youíre-
GRETLER (cutting him off)
Ye- youíre the asshole.
You.. are.. youíre the assho...
DERN realizes his mistake.
DERN (cutting him off)
Youíre THE asshole! Ah..Haha!
DERN (cutting him off)
THE ASSHOLE! EVERYBODY LOOK! HAHAHA!
PEOPLE are gathering around them now.
ITíS THE ASSHOLE HIMSELF! GRETLER!
WHAT A.. WHAT A GREAT GUY! HUH? EVERYBODY?!
I think y-
TH-THIS MAN IS.. HELPING us! Do things we
would never do! The company! Before he was here
we werenít off so well and now that he.. is weíre
doing just as well if not better.. as others! Donít
try to stop this guy! Oooh! Haha. Well.
Most of the PEOPLE have left by now.
Clear out your desk.
DAMMIT! Not even-
No. Clear out your desk.
Towards the end I was thinking
about not, but then you didnít
really follow through.
..Yeah.. I know.
BUSTERSON (off screen)
Yes, Mr. Busterson?
BUSTERSON enters the picture.
Were you about to fire this man?!
..I just did, sir.
ASSHOLE! YOUíRE OUTTA HERE!
But sir, he w-
BUT GET OUT, GRETLER!
GRETLER runs off, crying.
Wow! So does this mean I-
No. Youíre still fired. I just
really wanted to fire you first is all.
Youíre the worst volley ball net designer
Iíve ever seen.
Uhh.. This company makes novelty light
switches that fart when you flick them
off, though. Actually the volleyball
part is downstairs.
I think so. It would explain all
these novelty light switches that fart
when you switch them off
lying around here.
Damn. Well shit. Sorry.
So Iím not fired?
I.. I guess not.. I guess I just..
worked my way up the chain of
command to get here.. 40 years working..
doing something I thought I loved...
but that love.. turned into a lie.
I-Iím sorry, Iíll get out of here..
I need time..
Donít leave, sir!
Why shouldnít I?! I thought I could
help my niece play volleyball just a
little bit better! Now Iím.. 45 years old!
Oh. Now I get it. What a shame!
Yep. Yep. So I resign. You
can take over if you want.
I donít care.