Alright, so we’re back on track script-wise. New adventures for Jack at the ad firm. The problems keep mounting on him, maybe I should take some time to solve them? Nah…
You know, you shouldn’t read the script if you want to be surprised when you hear the audio track. Just thought I’d mention that after the break (you click the link below to read more) there’s spoilers for the next audio segment. This script doesn’t give away anything really juicy, but future ones could, so you might not want to get in the habit.
It took a great deal of self-control to keep from finding the nearest window
and flinging Tanya out of it onto the street below.
She just wouldn’t shut up.
She said something about telephones, and something about clotheslines, and
even asked if I thought that she had come to work dressed too formally.
“Look,” I finally said. “Go down that hall and find me a coffee machine.
Despense coffee into a cup and bring it to my cube. Don’t get any for
yourself - for pity’s sake - because I’m going to be giving you a ton of
papers to file and they’re not friendly to coffee.”
“Ok, Mr. Collins. Do you take your coffee with cream and sugar? Or do you
just take it black? I’m just asking because my mother takes it with cream
and no sugar and one time I made it with just sugar and she totally flipped
out on me like it was the end of the world, which reminds me of when my friend
Tammy once asked out Greg, her manager at the Pac Sun at the mall, and he
totally flipped out on her and got her fired and I totally don’t want to be
fired on my first day if you know what I mean.”
Tanya.
Tanya!
Look, just go get the coffee ok, I need to make some calls.
She turned with determination and set off in the direction opposite of the
coffee maker, thanks to my ingenious misdirection.
Hopefully if I had to suffer with this burden, I could at least have her spirit
broken by the end of the week.
I finally returned to my cube, where Laura was waiting for me.
“So?” she asked.
“I’m the new babysitter for the intern” I told her. “If you see a girl with a
rubberband around her waist for clothing, tell her my cube is on another floor.”
As I sat down, Laura tapped a file folder she was holding with her index finger
and handed it to me.
“Lemonsol” she said, and returned to her cube.
Grr. Ashby.
Looks like I have to do her dirty work afterall. Who wants to
write ads for a home cleanser? Actually, I wasn’t even sure what lemonsol was.
“Oh, by the way,” Laura yelled over the cube wall. “Some named Betty Thomas
called for you. She said that she’s done cleaning the smoke smell out of your
place.”
Oh dear.
Thankfully, thinking about my place brought another topic to mind - the pay cut.
How was I going to pay the rent next month and pay for food. They were barely
paying me enough to afford living expenses as it is.
Then an idea dawned on me. I logged into my computer to search for a
classifieds web site.
Sitting in the foregound, an email window popped out at me. The sender was
anonymous, but the message was clear:
I hope you die, you chicken-eating servant of the man!
Whatever. I closed it and logged into the classifieds to find a new, hopefully
temporary, roommate. I was hoping my place was still in one piece after
Mrs. Thomas had gotten through with it.
