Hello, and happy Monday because we've made it to Monday,

I have been talking about the script I created for the Scripped contest I didn't submit to the contest because I had technical issues but because I liked it and thought you may too, I'm posting it right now. I also wanted to thank Sunil at Scripped because he thoughtfully e-mailed me on the dates of the contest and that it had been extended. I have of course checked out the site and I encourage anyone writing screenplays to check it out its terrific and get this Free downloadable script software and I say it again: Free!! In todays climate Free is amazing and wonderful so go there.

Again I hope you enjoy the script,

If you have any comments or suggestions please e-mail me at my new address: shabazzl@adasbcc.org.

Until next time, God willing,

Lori














THERE’S NO NAKED LUNCH

A WORLD OF CUBICLES – DAY

Office workers—men and women---move around, whispering, packing boxes; all looking solemn and lost.

ONE CUBICLE

A grouping of workers watch a woman pack a box with a coffee mug, a family photo, a desk clock.
She wipes a tear off her face then turns and hugs each of them in turn. She picks up the box and exits the cubicle.

PICTURE WINDOWN

Three workers stand facing the outside.

OUTSIDE

A man places a box and case in his cars trunk. He slams the trunk down and goes to the driver side, opens the door but doesn’t get in.
He looks up at the building and waves sadly. He then gets into the car and drives away.

PITCURE WINDOW
One of the three waves sadly back.

REAR OF OFFICE

A man, this is John, stands in the back of the room, watching it all, unsmiling. He turns and moves off.

JOHN’S OFFICE

He sits behind his desk. He glances at his blinking computer screen then out the window, back to the screen, then out the window where he continues to stare.
A man stalks inside, this is Bob, he angrily waves a paper in his hand.





BOB
Damn Denton to hell. Not only did the
bastard get rid of some of our best
people, cut our salaries and leave us
with inferior projects to work…

He slams the paper down on the desk in front of John.

BOB
…he’s even taken our pictures off the
walls, confiscated our office furniture
and parking spaces. What is he going
to take from us next? Our lives?

He stabs at the paper with a finger.

BOB
Now this. The so called contract He
wants us to sign it even though there’s
no out clause here. I’m not doing it.

JOHN
You have to sign it. What else are
you going to do? Stand in the unemployment
line with thousands of others? You can’t.
Shawn’s going to college in the fall and
without your paycheck—measly though it
will be --he won’t be able to go.

Bob shakes his head.
BOB
I’ll be signing my life over to the devil.

JOHN
Yeah, but what other choice do you have?

He picks up a pen and holds it out to him.
Bob grabs it and roughly signs the paper then leaves the room without a word.
John picks up the paper, looks at it and starts to crumple it up when a voice from the door stops him, Barb, his assistant.

BARB
Some of us still have our positions,
benefits…

JOHN
Yeah, but it still feels like the
world has ended.


LUNCH ROOM – AFTERNOON

A going away party for co-worker, Mark. His coworkers including John, Barb and Bob surround a table on which sits a cake, a few of them hold plastic cups and plates of food.
A Good Luck sign is taped to the wall behind him. Mark stands in front of the sign. A few of them clap.

CO-WORKER
At least you’re getting out.

Mark laughs then sobers.

MARK
I’ve worked with you all so long, it’ll
be hard getting to know new people. I’m
really going to miss you guys.

BARB
San Diego’s only a hundred and twenty miles
away.

JOHN
We’ll all sneak by Denton and come visit
you.

They all laugh, a little.

RESTROOM

Mark hangs over a sink, his head down as John enters.


JOHN
Hey, you okay?

Mark shakes his head then looks up at him in the mirror. The man looks terrible.

MARK
Shelia’s not going with me.

JOHN
I though she understood Sabo’s was the
only company that offered you a position.

MARK
She won’t leave her family behind to try
it in San Diego. She and the kids are
going to stay with her folks.

He slams his fist on the sink.

MARK
Not only have I lost my job I’ve
lost my family too.

JOHN
I’m sorry, Mark. I…I don’t know what
else to say.

MARK
Say what everyone else does: it’s the
fault of the recession, the financial
crisis, the economic collapse..

A tear drops down his face as he looks up into John’s eyes in the mirror.


MARK
Whatever the hell you want to call it;
I’m fucked.



NEXT DAY

JOHN’S OFFICE

He sits at his desk and watches two men enter and leave the office across from his.


OFFICE ACROSS

The men carry furniture out: a chair for one man, a lamp in the hand of another. Another carries out a box. He sits it on the floor, stands and removes the name plate off the door before he closes it.
He picks up the box and walks away. Barb hurries by him. She enters John’s office.

HIS OFFICE

BARB
Denton’s here; making a surprise
inspection.

John stands, smoothes down his tie then walks out the room, Barb follows.

CUBICLE WORLD

The employees scurry around looking harassed as they hurry to their cubicles as John and Barb enter their world.


JOHN
Calm down, it’s okay; it’s just the
new boss.

The entry door is pushed open. A woman stands there a moment then steps back as a man Howard Denton steps pass her into the room. The woman enters behind him and closes the door.
John moves forward his hand out to Denton who waves him aside. He starts back toward John’s office with John, Barb and the woman following.
As Denton passes by them he glances down at the employees in their cubicle holes who try and look busy. He frowns. He glances back at the woman.

DENTON
I’ll talk to John alone. Ten minutes.


JOHN’S OFFICE

Denton takes a chair in front of the desk. John walks around and sits behind the desk.

DENTON
You know why I got this job over your
former boss?

JOHN
I know—

DENTON
--because he was soft, a too soft
asshole who didn’t know how to
play the game.

JOHN
Game?

DENTON
You’re not as sharp as you look are you?
This is a political county and if you
don’t know how to keep people in line
you’ll get pushed out when there isn’t
enough to go around.

JOHN
You obviously know how.

DENTON
I’m your new boss aren’t I? I
make the hard calls, cut where
cuts are needed to save money
in this down economy. People
like me have the guts to get
rid of the overages.




JOHN
No matter that it means people,
their lives, the livelihoods and of
their families.

DENTON
What does it matter to me? I won.
My job, my very generous salary and
bonuses are safe, so for the rest…
you’ve heard of the term ‘collateral
damage’ haven’t you?

He stands and looks hard at John.

DENTON
I like you, John; that’s why you’re
still here. You should be thanking
me for saving your job; keeping you
from visiting the unemployment office.

JOHN
I’ll send you Hall Mark.

DENTON
(sharply)
Let me give you a warning: I
don’t have much of a sense of
humor, meaning I run a tight
ship.

JOHN
Meaning?


DENTON
If I don’t like what I see there
will be more layoffs for your
people and no one can stop me.
Get used to that.

He checks his watch and moves to the door, opening it before turning back to John.

DENTON
One other thing. My employees
dress business attire; not like rejects.
A few of the women out there are
wearing skirts that are too short; two of
the men are without jackets; it’s unacceptable.
Send them home and dock their pay.

He stares John up and down.

DENTON
You’re unacceptable too. Fix your tie
and put on a jacket; I don’t
want to see you underdressed again.

He walks out.
John watches him for a moment before he goes back to sit behind his desk. Barb walks in and shuts the door.

BARB
(hesitant)
Are we safe?

John doesn’t answer. He punches the intercom button on his phone and makes an announcement:

JOHN
There will be an all staff meeting
in two minutes up front.

Barb looks afraid.
BARB
What’s happening? Oh, God. Did he
give you more bad news? Whose going
to get cut? All of us? Oh, God.

John stands and walks quickly pass her, opens the door and moves into the hall.



HALLWAY

Barb follows John to the front of the office.

CENTER OF OFFICE

The employees, maybe fifteen of them, are gathered looking agitated and afraid.

MALE EMPLOYEE
Are we going to be shut down
entirely? Dissolved?

FEMALE EMPLOYEE
Stop it Henry; you’re making
things worst.

SECOND WOMAN
I feel sick.

John walks forward and stops in front of them.

HENRY
Is Denton cutting the rest of
us? He’s already left us with
practically nothing already.
What more can he take from us?

JOHN
Calm down, Henry; the rest of you
too. He just came to look us over,
make sure we know whose boss. He
did make one thing clear…

John takes off his tie.
JOHN
He doesn’t like the way we dress;
it’s not appropriate business attire—
we’re not appropriate.

He drops the tie to the floor.

JOHN
We’ve been loyal employees of
Magnolia’s for countless years
and in return we get a slashed
down organization with a new
E.D. who treats us like shit
because he can.

He begins to unbutton his shirt.

JOHN
Denton thinks we should be
slavishly grateful for being
kept on; for having a shit like
him as our boss.

John takes off the shirt. The employees stare at him, open mouthed as if he’s just gone crazy. A few of them make noises of surprise as a couple step back as if in fear.

JOHN
We did not survive a consolidation
but an asshole takeover out of our
control that has left us paying the
price.

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, drops it to the floor and stares back at his bug-eyed coworkers.

JOHN
No, I’m not having a nervous
breakdown; I’m starting a
rebellion.

He pulls off a shoe then sock.
JOHN
Denton doesn’t like the way
I –we- dress? It’s not good enough
for him? Then I won’t dress at
all.

He pulls off the other shoe and sock and drops those to the floor. His hand goes to the belt buckle on his pants.
JOHN
I’m going to work the rest of
the day naked. Nude. Negative
clothing. Bare-assed…

John unbuckles his belt, unzips his pants and drops them. Some of the women step back or hide their faces in front of their hands while some other stare, smiling.


JOHN
…and show him there’s only so much
crap a person has to take from a
self-righteous son-of- a- bitch.

He takes his pants off. Barb holds a hand palm out to him like she’s holding up a stop sign.

BARB
Stop, John; you can’t--. You’d
better stop right this second.

JOHN
Why? We’re the only one’s left in
this office; this building. I’m not
embarrassed, I’m too angry at what’s
happened to us to be embarrassed.
And you all should be too.

SECOND MAN
Hell yes we are, we are!

John opens his arms out wide and smiles.

JOHN
I feel better already. Free. Like
I have control over my life and not
some so called ‘change agent’. And
just because I—

He grabs his underwear and pushes them down his legs as grasps of shock come from some of the employees.

MALE EMPLOYEE
That’s what I thought.

JOHN
There. Freedom.

Henry gives a rebel yell and starts taking off his clothes as do a few others. John smiles, turns and walks naked back toward his office.

OFFICE

John sits behind his desk, his gave on his computer screen. A knock. He looks up and Barb is standing with her hear stuck out around the door way; her body hidden.

BARB
Hey, I just want to say…

She comes fully into the room wearing only her birthday suit. John tries not to stare and forces his eyes to stay on her face.


JOHN
Just trying to get some work
done here…

Barb looks excited, happy.

BARB
What you’ve done today; I’ve
never…it’s unbelievable. Crazy.
Amazing. And you did it for us.

She steps in front of the desk.
BARB
You know if this gets back to
Denton all hell will break
loose.

JOHN
So we’d better enjoy it while
we can.

She laughs, throws her arms out and twirls around, then back to face him.

BARB
It’s been such a long time since
I’ve felt, I don’t know… hopeful?

She gives him a little wave and exits the room with a happy shake of her tush.

John turns back to the computer screen, then gets up and exits the room.

CUBICLE WORLD

John leans against the wall, arms crossed as he watches, his coworkers, his friends, work, talk and laugh. Naked.

Hello and Happy Friday,

I was listening to a radio program this morning, a story about twittering and how a group of guys are publishing classics such as the Iliad and the Odyssey by Homer as well as Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew in “tweet”. They have condensed these classics down to 140 words or less. One of the tweeters read the Iliad, it was funny—they’re suppose to be funny--and of course short, as short as can be. I thought it interesting on the one hand, on the other, I was put off. I see it as another dagger in the hearts of reading and writing. If people get used to reading classics that are hundreds of pages, in a page or less, will they want all novels to be condensed to almost nothing, which will loose so much?

What would this mean for us who spend hours writing thousands of pages to capture a story in a few hundred? Will people want to read those few hundred? Will it come to be too many? At the end of the program a specialist on the tweeter phenomenon said he didn’t believe “twittiture” would last and would go away as quickly as it appeared. I don’t mind this new form of literature because it’s writing that folks are reading; never a bad thing. Yet I hope people continue to crave great full-fleshed, big, rich novels that span far and wide in story as well as in pages.

My guess is that they will, but only if they find the story is worth their time, that it magically pulls them in, the stories are ones they cannot put down or can’t get enough of because they enjoy every aspect of the writing: the characters and the storyline. Only then will it not matter if the novel is 200 pages or 400, the story is so great even that many pages will not be enough.


“Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.” Cyril Connolly

If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com

Hello and Happy though its Monday,

And I guess if you're reading this--and I'm writing this of course--we're alive this Monday so that is something at least to be feeling allright about; maybe more than allright these days. I want to thank a blogger tagged Sunil who was kind to leave me a comment letting me know the Scripped contest was kept open until the 8th which was good news. Unfortunately for me, I had technical difficulties I tried my best to surmount so still did not get my script to them electronically. But because I wanted them to have it, I'm mailing it anyway with 15 bucks. I know its after the contest is over but I want them to have it,to say I wrote the work and I think its good and here you go. Thanks again, Sunil.

You all keep writing too; it doesn't matter what for because its the writing that matters.

If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com

Until next time, God willing.

Hello and Hey, its Monday,

It's Monday yet a good time to write, right? I didn't do the Scripped or I mean I wrote the script but didn't send it which is disappointng but okay. Why okay? I wrote the script anyway and the writing is always the thing.

Write.

If you have any comments or suggestions I have a new e-mail address at: mathewsla@hotmail.com

Until next time, God willing.