ONE WORD - WEEK 7 - FAULT

The word for the seventh installment of this exercise was fault. The first thing that came to mind was earthquakes because of fault lines. I live in California, after all, and Lex Luthor would have sank us into the ocean because of those pesky fault lines if it hadn't been for you, Superman!

Erhm... sorry about that. Anyway, there's also the fact that you can't turn on the television without somebody famous asking you to donate money to the relief efforts in Haiti. Not that I'm complaining about that or anything, mind you. I'm just saying... I've got earthquakes on the brain. But I inevitably decided to go in a different direction. My last two scripts were pretty heavy on the panel description and light on the dialogue, so I decided to reverse course and drive this puppy with the talking heads.

PAGE ONE

Panel 1. A young man named Carlson is sitting in one of those swiveling, ergonomic office chairs at his workstation in a nondescript cubicle. He is wearing a long-sleeved, button-up, collared shirt with a tie and slacks. Office work clothes. He is busily typing away at the computer sitting on his workstation. There is an office phone with a display of buttons sitting close at hand on the workstation, and the workstation itself and the walls of the cubicle are decorated with photos, a cup of pens, coffee mug, stapler, and other assorted odds and ends necessary to survive a day of work spent in a cubicle. We should be looking at Carlson from an angle that provides us a view of the top of the cubicle. An attractive female intern is strolling past Carlson’s cubicle as he works. It is important that we’re able to see this over the top of the cubicle as it sets up the next panel.

Panel 2. Another young man named Johnson is peering over the wall of Carlson’s cubicle and speaking to Carlson. Carlson has stopped working and is looking up at Johnson inquisitively.

JOHNSON:
Better keep your head down today, Carlson.

CARLSON:
Why? What’s going on?

Panel 3. Johnson is entering the cubicle, and Carlson has swiveled in his chair slightly to regard Johnson. Johnson seems slightly unkempt in contrast to the neater Carlson. Johnson’s shirt isn’t tucked in very well, wrinkles in his clothing, and maybe his hair is a little disheveled. Stuff like that.

JOHNSON:
The boss is on the warpath. He wants somebody’s head on a platter.

CARLSON:
I guess that’s better than having it on a spit.

Panel 4. Johnson is holding a pen upright in his closed fist as if he would hold a tiny sword or a spear (or a pike!). Carlson is looking at the pen and smiling slightly.

JOHNSON:
Yeah, or a pike.

CARLSON:
Yeah--so what happened?

Panel 5. Johnson is shrugging his shoulders as he speaks to Carlson. Carlson is barely paying attention to Johnson now, fiddling absent-mindedly with one of the objects on his desk.

JOHNSON:
Aw, you know--the usual. Some document didn’t get faxed on time and he got chewed out for it, so now he’s trying to figure out whose fault it was so he can do some chewing of his own.

CARLSON:
That figures. So what was the document?

Panel 6. Johnson is leaning casually against the wall of Carlson’s cubicle as he speaks to him. Carlson has turned around to face Johnson again, and this time he’s much more interested in what Johnson has to say. He’s leaning forward slightly in his chair.

JOHNSON:
One of the quarterly reports for the Peterson file.

CARLSON:
Aw, crap. I was doing work on the Peterson file.

JOHNSON:
I know it. That’s why I’m over here. I tried to warn Jennings, but he already got called in. I’m sure the boss man is reaming him a new one as we speak.

PAGE TWO

Panel 1. Carlson has leaned back in his chair, slightly relieved. Johnson is still leaning against Carlson’s cubicle, but his arms are crossed in front of his chest now.

CARLSON:
Oh, okay. So it should be cool then, right?

JOHNSON:
Only if Jennings says it was on him. He’s the third victim this morning. Simmons and Polanski already took their beatings. I saw them a few minutes ago looking like walking wounded.

Panel 2. Carlson has thrown his hands into the air in frustration and turned away from Johnson. Johnson is watching him with a thin smile.

CARLSON:
Well that’s just great. I sure as hell hope it was Jennings that did it, because I wasn’t asked to fax any documents for the Peterson file.

JOHNSON:
Oh, I know it wasn’t you. I’m the one that was supposed to fax the file.

Panel 3. Carlson is looking back at Johnson with an incredulous expression. Johnson has dropped down to one knee so he is at Carlson’s level.

CARLSON:
What? Johnson, if you’re the one that was supposed to do it, why are you letting the boss go on his rampage?

JOHNSON:
Because if somebody else says it was their fault, then I’m in the clear.

Panel 4. Carlson is looking at Johnson with a flat expression. Johnson is still smiling faintly.

Panel 5. Same panel as before, only now Carlson is animated as he berates Johnson.

CARLSON:
Are you kidding me right now? That’s seriously messed up.

Panel 6. Johnson is using the flat edge of one of his hands and making a chopping motion into the flat palm of his other hand. Carlson is pointing an accusing finger at Johnson.

JOHNSON:
I’m dead serious, man. I really don’t want to take the fall for this one. I think I’m on the chopping block as it is if you know what I’m saying.

CARLSON:
So why are you telling me then? I could just walk in there and tell the boss it was your fault.

Panel 7. Johnson is looking at Carlson with a smug grin. Carlson looks like he wants to amck it off of Johnson’s face.

JOHNSON:
Yeah, but you won’t do that.

CARLSON:
Why the hell not?

PAGE THREE

Panel 1. Johnson is shrugging and speaking in a casual, carefree manner again.

JOHNSON:
Because you’re a nice guy, C-money. If you go tell the boss it was my fault, I’ll get fired. And if I get fired, I’ll be out of a job. And if I’m out of a job, I’ll have to look for a new one. And I obviously won’t be able to use this one as a reference--because I got fired. It might take me months to get a new job, and I’m living paycheck to paycheck as it is.

Panel 2. Carlson is incredulous again as he reacts to what Johnson just said. Johnson is holding up the index and middle fingers of one of his hands to indicate the number two to Carlson.

CARLSON:
You make more than I do!

JOHNSON:
True--but I got expenses, man. Did you know I’m divorced with two kids?

CARLSON:
You’re twenty-four years old!

Panel 3. Johnson is shrugging in his easygoing, infuriating manner again. Carlson is rolling his eyes.

JOHNSON:
What can I say? I matured early in life.

CARLSON:
That’s debatable.

Panel 4. The phone sitting on Carlson’s workstation is ringing, and both Carlson and Johnson are looking at it like deer caught in the headlights.

SFX:
Breeet. Breeet.

Panel 5. Johnson is nudging Carlson gently with his elbow and gesturing with his chin in the direction of the phone. Carlson is glaring icily at Johnson.

SFX:
Breeet. Breeet.

JOHNSON:
You should probably answer that, man. Could be the boss.

CARLSON:
Mmm, yeah. Thanks for that.

PAGE FOUR

Panel 1. Carlson has his finger extended and is pushing a button on the phone. Johnson is watching Carlson with a pleading expression as he talks to the receptionist.

CARLSON:
This is Carlson.

PHONE:
Mr. Carlson--Mr. Winters would like to see you in his office.

CARLSON:
Okay--thanks, Judy.

Panel 2. Carlson has dropped his face into his hands. Johnson is gripping Carlson on the shoulder and shaking him lightly. The expression on Johnson’s face is bright and encouraging.

CARLSON:
Ugh. I really hate you, dude.

JOHNSON:
C’mon, big guy. Just take one for the team. You can handle that stodgy prick way better than me. And I know he’d never fire you. You’re like his golden boy.

Panel 3. Carlson has whirled on Johnson and is pointing a finger at him menacingly. Johnson has drawn back somewhat with his hands raised to about face level with the palms facing outward toward Carlson, trying to look as harmless as possible.

CARLSON:
If you’re trying to flatter me, calling me golden boy ain’t the way to get it done--and I’m not taking one for the team, Johnson. I’m taking one for your sorry ass.

Panel 4. Carlson is pushing his chair away from his workstation and the crouching Johnson. Johnson is looking at Carlson with supreme gratitude, as Carlson has finally relented.

JOHNSON:
So you’re actually gonna do it?

CARLSON:
Yes, Johnson. I’m actually going to do it.

Panel 5. Johnson is pumping his fist with one hand as he uses Carlson’s chair to help him get to his feet. Carlson is already standing, and he is looking at something outside of the entrance of the cubicle that we cannot see. His face is surprised and mortified.

JOHNSON:
Yes! You’re the man, Carlson. I won’t forget this!

PAGE FIVE

Panel 1. Mr. Winters is standing just outside of Carlson’s cubicle. Carlson is using one hand to scratch absently at the back of his head as he tries to think of something (anything!) to say. Johnson is on his feet now and sees Mr. Winters too. He’s reacting with disappointment at having been caught, slapping the palm of one of his hands to his forehead. Mr. Winters is holding a mug of steaming coffee in one of his hands, and he’s fuming nearly as bad as the piping hot drink.

CARLSON:
Oh, uh--hey, Mr. Winters, sir. Have you been here long?

JOHNSON:
Ah, crap.