Two Gentlemen on Veronica
A hallway in Mahogany Row. Enter three Cleaners.
Where hast thou been, sister?
Sister, where thou?
The lunchroom, ‘natch. To watch the tube
‘Midst coffee stains and toaster leavings.
But Probostickus happened by
Demanding I return to buff
Suggesting that I’ve shirk’d enough
I said I'll go, I'll go, I'll go.
Our work here is not too onerous,
And the nerds don’t try to boner us.
Truth! With few drones about this hall
It seems unsullied. Hear the call
Of indolence and Survivor?
But soft! Spik’d heelprints mar our waxy floor.
What sort of sinful beast trods our halls?
Best tidy up, lest Probo pitch a fit.
Sound of a floor polisher.
Round and round doth polisher go;
Our dour tedium passing slow.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Lysol burn, detergent bubble.
Hallways of oak and floors of ice cold stone
Yet what’s that echo? Hearest thou a moan?
It`s likely some cube jockey tossing off
Wreck'd as homeward he did come.
They stop the polisher. Muted noises emerge from a nearby office.
A drum, a drum!
The nerd doth come.
Whoa. How now, lady? You look angerly.
YOU - foul, misshapen trio!1
Your noises and your smells conspire
To make my pimply partner tire
And lose what focus on our goal
Can be bludgeoned from his soul.
Delicate work transpires behind these walls
Remove thy bony asses from these halls
Forthwith. Else unemployment queue
Will be your destination too.
Rather than hold conference with this harpy,
To the lunchroom let's repair at once.
Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again.
Abandon rhetoric's sweet smoke
For that of Marlboro Man, perchance?
Chase it with a frosty Bud!
That's a plan that's firm and good.
Grab your brooms, let us depart.
Come, sisters, let's go!
Unseen (and presumably color coordinated) Announcer:
As he dresses, turgid and malevolent schemes
Bestir themselves with the dark recesses
Of Helmut's shocked and spinning brain.
How might Probostickus meet his grisly demise?
Alas! Now I must do murder. What to do?
I am no schemer, and no OJ Simpson's here
(Acquitted though he be, by learned peers)
To plot the nefarious deed. Damnit, Jim!
I'm a lover, not a fighter,
With love's sweet oils still drying on my skin.
Can I kill a man, and if so how?
Perhaps electric shock through his PC?
No gearhead I, I'd likely kill myself instead of him.
Cut the brake lines of his Porsche perhaps?
Unreliable at best, the way he drives
Insults the german engineers who made it.
How many times has he been standing here
Beside this fax machine and peering down
Like some demented god at us below?
But soft! There he is below me as I speak!
Checking the Page 3 girl as he leaves!
Now's my big chance!
Helmut grabs the heavy fax machine and tips it over the railing. It falls heavily
to the floor below, landing with a wet thudding sound.
You're faxxed now!
back ... forward
1 The first part of this scene was originally written by toasterleavings. Sadly, toasterleavings removed all content from e2. I have backfilled the missing scene with my own work, but have retained a few of tl's key phrasings, attributed with the 1 mark. A few lines of Shakespeare's Scottish play appear verbatim in this scene as well, as lines for that play's witches in their modern roles.