INT. OFFICE – DAY
We are in the office of a PRODUCER. He’s in his late twenties and full of coke and gym-induced energy. It’s sunny outside – it’s LA after all – but there’s the faint sound of a breeze. As the producer happily plays with his A-Team action figures, we slowly realise that the breeze is actually a whistling noise coming from between his ears.
There is a knock at the door.
He giggles. He said come. That one always cracks him up. He returns to playing with Mr T.
Enter JUNIOR WRITER excitedly. Junior Writer is even younger than the Producer, Harvard-educated and has wanted to work in television his whole life. He hasn’t been paid in two years, even though his internship only lasted six months. But that’s all right: his trust fund is extensive.
The notepaper he carries in his hand contains The Idea.
I have it! I have an idea for a new show.
Producer looks up. There’s only a slight glassiness to his eye from the coke. Slowly, he realises what this means.
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