In 1997, my friend Jim and I were vaguely dissatisfied with our jobs, and speculated idly on what else we could do instead. We decided that one possibility would be to write a sitcom (just the pilot and a few episodes), get a percentage of it, and let the money pour in. "How hard can it be," we thought. Well, as it turns out, it can be pretty damned hard.

THE APARTMENT: A spacious but fairly nondescript room, wood floors with a cheap carpet. The furniture is Early Grad Student: a pine futon couch, computer tables from Target, etc. It's cluttered and not too clean. The kitchen area is open to the living room, at screen right.

Fade in.

PHIL and JIM sit facing away from each other, playing games on their respective computers. Phil and Jim are in their 20's, average looks. They're not stereotypical book-worm nerds, but they do lack certain social graces and have some unusual tastes---they are, in short, like a lot of my friends from Silicon Valley. We hear typical electronic game noises. Phil and Jim both use lots of body english and facial grimaces as they play.

Phil [glancing at watch]: Uh oh, we're going to be late for work. [Stands up, turns off computer, peers over Jim's shoulder]. I'll make breakfast. Hurry up, Jim. Phil walks to the kitchen area.

Jim: OK, OK, just a second. I've almost got to level 5, I've never got this far before... [Phil puts two poptarts in the toaster]

Jim: Ah, damn, the gorgon got me. Alright, let's get going.

[Phil walks toward the door, stopping to pick up his briefcase on the way. ]

Jim: Phil, I don't know why you carry that briefcase back and forth every day. You've never once brought anything home from work.

Phil: That's not true, I brought home all that toilet paper just last week. Oh, that reminds me...[opens briefcase, takes out a pad of paper, tosses it onto side table. We see that the briefcase is otherwise empty. As he does this:]

Jim: Is that really the reason you carry it, to steal office supplies?

Phil: Well, partly. But Tony thinks I'm bringing work home every day. Considering how dicey things have been there recently, you might want to try it---never hurts if the boss thinks you're working hard.

Jim: Even our boss isn't stupid enough to fall for the briefcase trick.

Phil: Oh, yes he is. Yesterday I heard him talking on the phone about organizing a "workplace empowerment seminar" to recognize our "total quality commitment." [Holds up fingers to make the quote marks in the air as he says the buzzwords].

Jim: Where did you say you bought that briefcase? Do you think a leather one is best, or does it matter? [Phil picks up briefcase again. The toaster dings, and Phil and Jim both turn and catch the poptarts, which are launched through the air towards them, at least 25 feet. Then they turn to the door. Just as Jim touches the doorknob, the doorbell rings---a loud bell like a telephone, not a "ding-dong". Jim jumps back, startled. Phil looks through the glass panel in the middle of the door.]

Phil: It's Mizz Shafter.

Jim: Uh oh, the land-clown....did we forget to pay the rent again?

Phil: I dunno, but she has her clown face on. [opens the door] Hello, Mizz Shafter. Here, I made a pop tart for you. (holds out pop tart).

MIZZ SHAFTER is a moderately attractive forty-something divorced woman. She's conventionally dressed but her face is painted white, with red around the mouth---i.e., a partial clown face. She takes the pop tart.

Mizz Shafter: Hey fellas, glad I caught you before you left for work. I have some bad news. Starting next month, I have to double your rent. Sorry, it's out of my hands.

Jim: DOUBLE our rent? Jeez, what happened?

Mizz Shafter: I just bought a new car, I need the money.

Phil: Well I just bought a new car too, so _I_ need the money.

Mizz Shafter: Yeah, that's why I bought my new car: when I saw your new car I figured you could afford to pay more rent.

Phil: But that's backwards---I bought a new car, so I _can't_ afford to pay more rent. If you'd seen me driving a really beat-up car that was badly in need of repairs, THEN it would have made sense to double our rent.

Mizz Shafter: That's the kind of car you were driving until last week.

Phil: See?

Mizz Shafter: Well, whatever, I need the money so I'm doubling the rent. Believe me, I'd love to stand here and tell it to you some more, but I've gotta go finish my makeup.

Jim: Uh huh, so you're still doing clown acts for those kiddie parties.

Mizz Shafter: Yeah, but I think I'm going to quit---my boss is a real bozo. He's trying to get me into these corporate gigs, improve the morale of workers and all that garbage. I do my first one today---an "empowerment seminar", if you can believe that. [Phil catches Jim's eye, points at his suitcase, and gives a thumb's up. Mizz Shafter leaves, shaking her head. Phil and Jim step out after her, closing the door behind them. Cut to... ]

THE OFFICE: A stereotypical corporate high-tech office---not a funky startup type with toys and games all over the place, but also not an utterly boring corporate robot-hole. It's a cubicle-filled room with a computer on every desk. There are some personal touches---cartoons and plants and photos on the desk. At screen left, an entrance doorway with a receptionist's desk in front of it, facing the audience. In the middle, a set of 4 desks with low partitions between them (so the top view is like a +). The two closest to the audience are facing each other, so the cubicle inhabitants are at right angles to the audience if they sit facing the desk, which they never do. There are a few more cubicles and desks around the back of the room, occupied by those minor charming characters that appear once in a while. At screen right is a meeting room, with a glass window onto the main room. There's a coffee machine just outside the door.

THE ACTION: Fade in. Phil is standing at Jim's desk (the rightmost of the cubicles facing the audience) while Jim plays a game on his computer. Jim is using a joystick, which he manipulates with a lot of body english.

Phil: Look out, look out, the gorgon's coming in from the right!

TONY, THE BOSS pokes his head around the corner of the cubicle. Tony is middle-aged, and is the only one who wears a suit. Jim looks up, startled.

Phil: Told you.

Jim: Umm... hi..uh...

Boss (snidely): You guys taking a little break? [Phil steps back around to his own desk.]

Jim: Uhh...no! We got some complaints that the system crashes if you try to play Masters of Doom while our software runs in the background, thought we'd better check it out.

Boss: Uh huh. I see you're already on [squints at screen] level 5, and it hasn't crashed yet, has it? Tell you what, why don't you give me the CD and I'll work on it. [Jim hands CD to boss. ]

Boss: Listen, Jim, you know that the company's struggling...You're one of our top programmers, but you really need to apply yourself more. Why don't you take a lesson from Phil, I notice HE takes work home every day. [points at Phil's briefcase, on the floor next to Phil's desk.]

[Boss leaves. Phil steps back around to Jim's cubicle, perches on edge of desk.]

Jim: You at least could have backed me up on that story!

Phil: No, I'm still in hot water for screwing up the presentation to Microsoft last week...thanks to you.

Jim: Oh, those guys just can't take a joke. I'm sure they've heard their company referred to as "Microsloth" before.

Phil: Yeah, but I don't think they'd ever seen a hacker put it on their own web page. At least not with a photo of Bill Gates with a Hitler mustache.

Jim: But didn't it make a good illustration of why they need our security program?

Phil: It would have, if they weren't already running our security program.

Jim: Yeah, I thought they had a particularly insecure web site, come to think of it.

Phil: Jim, what are we going to do? We're both in hot water here at work, the company's not doing so great, our rent just doubled, and I just put myself in debt for the next five years to buy a new car.

Jim: Well, we could start working harder, try to get the company going well, then our stock options will be worth something and our jobs will be more secure.

Phil (eyes glazed): Yeah, yeah, right. Hey! (suddenly enthusiastic) Why don't we take in a roommate? He could live in the game room.

Jim: Well, it's a thought. I dunno, though, I never really liked most of my college roomates.

Phil: That's because you were in a fraternity, and they kept flushing your head in the toilet.

Jim: Well, you weren't in a fraternity, but your roommates flushed your head in the toilet too.

Phil: Yeah, but not every morning. Anyway, we wouldn't have that problem now.

Jim: Why not? We're still nerds.

Phil: Nah, we're a lot more sophisticated now. Hey, you've even been going to the gym, right? [Phil looks over cubicle wall to Jim's right]

Phil: WOAH, who's SHE?

[Jim stands up and turns to look. Phil sticks "Byte me" sign on Jim's back. ]

Jim: Where?

Phil: Oh, you missed her.

WEIRD ERIC walks into the office and heads over to another cubicle in the group, partly screened by a partition. ERIC is young, somewhat unkempt, very nerdish. He's wearing a distinctive t-shirt. Jim and Phil remain standing.

Jim (to Phil): Hey, here comes Weird Eric. (to Eric): Getting in a little late, aren't you Eric?

Eric: Yeah. I had to take my snail to the vet.

Jim: Your snail? Dare I ask, what's wrong with him?

Eric: Well, he's been acting really sluggish. [Walks past, towards his desk]

Jim [after a pause]: Uh huh. What did the vet say is wrong with him?

Eric: He's depressed. He needs to break out of his shell. [Eric walks to his cubicle, out of sight. Jim and Phil sidle over to the coffee machine. While the following exchange goes on, several other employees walk by, looking at the sign on Jim's back and snickering.]

Phil (to Jim): See, this is Silicon Valley. It would be no problem to find a roommate nerdier than us.

Jim: Yeah, but no way am I going to room with Weird Eric. Have you noticed that he never washes his clothes---he's worn that same t-shirt to work every day for the past month, and I'm not kidding.

Phil: No he hasn't, it's a new one every day.

Jim: No, really, I've been noticing.

Phil: No, I asked him about it. Some woman mentioned to him that she liked the shirt he was wearing, so he bought 20 of them and threw away all his other ones.

Jim: You mean that he owns 20 identical shirts, and no other ones?

Phil: Yeah. Amazing, isn't it? And all because of a woman's off-hand compliment. Is that ridiculous, or what? I mean, have you ever heard anything so stupid? How pathetic.

Jim: You're jealous, aren't you?

Phil: Well, a little. But I tell ya, I sure wouldn't do something like that because a woman complimented me for my shirt.

Jim: If a woman ever compliments you for ANYTHING, I'll EAT my shirt.

Phil: Hey, just today that woman complimented me on my driving.

Jim: Yelling "smooth move, Ex-Lax" isn't really a compliment.

Phil: Oh, is that what she said? I thought it was "Smooth move, excellent!"

Jim: I'm not sure finding a roomate nerdier than us is going to be as easy as you think.

Phil: Hey, speak for yourself, I'm not the one with the sign on his back.

Jim [rips sign off back]: Yeah, yeah, funny. [stalks back to desk, irritated].

Phil: OK, OK, sorry. I'll make it up to you.

Jim: How?

Phil: I'll convince the boss that your story about our program crashing the computer wasn't bogus after all.

Jim: Great, but how are you going to do that?

Phil [walks over to Boss's office door]: Listen!

Boss [muffled, inside room]: Eat my sword, you stinking gorgon!

Jim: Right! All we have to do is crash his computer while he's playing.

Phil [goes to desk, starts typing on computer]: Piece of cake---he's hooked up to the network, and I'm sure he's running our security software. It's a miracle it hasn't crashed already. Here we go.... [types a few keys] Voila!

Boss [loudly]: DAMN it!

Jim [opens boss's door]: What happened, Tony?

Boss: Damn, I was just...ummmm...I was just checking out that bug you were working on. It does seem to be a real problem, I'm just real unhappy about it. Here [hands Jim the disk] fix it as quick as you can, and give me back the disk so I can check it out.

Jim: I'll get right on it.