by Martin Baena
FRANK (50s) and JIM (30s) sit at a bar, drinking. BARTENDER reads the newspaper.
FRANK: No such thing as job security.
FRANK: Job security.
JIM: My father got a pink slip once. When he got home it was tucked in his pocket.
FRANK: Him and a hundred other guys, I bet…
JIM: In his front pocket.
FRANK: …a real massacre.
FRANK: You’ll land on your feet.
JIM: (removes clip-on) He said to me…
FRANK: Your father?
JIM: Mr. Regan
FRANK: Regan’s full of it.
JIM: He said, “Get a good night’s rest.”
FRANK: Is that all?
JIM: “Go home. Tomorrow’s another day.”
FRANK: (drinks) That’s all well and good for Regan. It’s our heads on the block. (to BARTENDER) Give me another (to JIM) You want?
JIM: No, no, that’s alright.
FRANK: (to BARTENDER) Two.
JIM: He offered me a job. He said…
FRANK: He gave you job?
JIM: He didn’t give me anything. He offered… (BARTENDER serves two drinks)
JIM: He offered me…
FRANK: Whose job?
JIM: He didn’t say.
FRANK: He didn’t say?
JIM: (shakes head)
JIM: I didn’t think to ask.
JIM: I didn’t even want it.
FRANK: C’mon now…
JIM I had no idea, I… how was I to know?
FRANK: He put a knife to your throat?
JIM: Look, I,… listen, if I had known…
FRANK: What? If you had known what?
JIM: If I knew, if he,… if he had told me upfront.
FRANK: Oh, I see. He didn’t give you my job?
FRANK: Did you shake his hand?
JIM: Frank!… listen. Jesus. That’s not how it…look, I didn’t think, he didn’t…
JIM: …it wasn’t like that.
FRANK: You want my wife too? She loves that job.
JIM: That’s not funny.
FRANK: It’s a joke…
JIM: I don’t think she’d appreciate it.
FRANK: You wanna tell ‘er?
FRANK: Maybe it’ll sound better coming from you.
FRANK: What did he say?
FRANK …after you shook hands. He said…
FRANK: He said, “Go home.” didn’t he?
FRANK: (Removes tie) Well, that’s sound advice. Don’t you think? (To BARTENDER) Doesn’t that ring true?
BARTENDER: Home. I like the sound of that.
FRANK: Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.
JIM …when he called me into his office… see, I thought he wanted to…
FRANK: Who gives a shit? (Drinks. Goes for his wallet)
JIM: That’s okay, Frank: I got it.
FRANK: (FRANK strangles JIM with his tie) He said, “Go home.” Isn’t that it? Isn’t that what he said?! “Get a good night’s sleep.” (BARTENDER pulls FRANK off) …but you had to push it, didn’t you Jim? You had to push it. Pretty boy. (Exits)
BARTENDER: You okay?
BARTENDER: You need a doctor or something?
JIM: The thing about it is: I am screwing his wife.
This work by Martin Baena is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.