Chapter 1 (untitled)

(opening music bit)

Joe fiddles with some wires hanging down from the ceiling, attached to a small box on the end.

Dave walks by in a quick fashion.

"Hey Dave."

"Hey Joe."

Joe continues messing with the wires. Dave doubles back with a certain look of terror.

"Oh, Joe, no – this … this doesn't blow up China does it?"

"Only if I wired it wrong."

Dave eyes him seriously with a furled brow.

"Dave, please – nukin' china takes some serious wiring skills and at least ten rolls of duct tape."

"Good. Good. Just remember: WNYX doesn't reimburse you for expenditures on international terrorism.

Joe … out of curiosity … what does 'it' do?"

"It sends out an electric pulse that sterilizes everybody within a five-mile radius."

"Re-"

Max, whom was just passing by, presses the button carelessly. Dave bends over and grabs his crotch.

"Max! What the hell?!"

"I just wanted to see if it would work."

"You do realize that if it had in fact worked, it would have made you sterile as well, right?"

"It's gotta be tested eventually!"

"But not on me!"

"Relax Dave, it's just the new SpeakerCom," says Joe.

"You mean intercom," corrects Dave.

"Don't tell me what I know Dave.

The difference between 'inter' and 'speaker' is that the SpeakerCom blares over the entire office. So loud in fact that everyone will hear it, and it cuts back on the installation and parts cost from installing a sender/receiver unit in each office."

"Joe, why would I need that?"

"Well, example A: Matthew is singing so loud at his desk that he can't hear you calling him. Solution? This handy device it pumps out your commands at 50 decibels."

Sarcastically, "Oh, gee Joe – why not just round it off to a hundred?"

"Dave, don't be ridiculous, everyone knows anything about 70 decibels damages the eardrum."

Lisa roll in from off screen on her desk chair and comments, "You knew that, right Dave?"

"Well, I … ah …," in a more commanding tone, "I think the more important question is: show me one good reason to keep it."

Joe turns the box over. Dave folds his arms raising his eyebrows in a cocky manner.

"Gonna press the button," press it down and yells, "FIRE! FIRE! I repeat – this is not a drill!!!"

Everybody stands there. Dave looks around, then back at Joe.

"Well?" asks Dave.

"Give it five seconds."

Dave counts down on his watch, "Five … four … three … two …o-"

WHAM!!! The men's room bathroom door bursts open, toilet paper shooting out. Matthew runs out, pants around his ankles, underwear on and toilet paper streaming from his hands, shouting, "Fire! Fire! Fi-" and trips, landing behind a desk, out of view.

"Sold," says Dave.