INT. ELI & WARNER’S APARTMENT - DAY
DAVID sits on the couch, fumbling with the TV remote.
ELI: Dad, what are you doing?
DAVID: I’m trying to watch the weather woman with the big knockers.
ELI: Well, you look like you’re about to have a seizure. (Beat) Besides, she’s not on ‘til 3.
VERONICA: (gesturing to the blank TV screen) Why isn’t he watching his weather lady?
DAVID: She’s not on until 3. (looking her over) I guess you’ll have to do for now.
CRAWFORD enters from the bathroom.
CRAWFORD: Public service announcement - you guys are not gonna want to go in there for a while.
DAVID: It’s like Hiroshima in there! (looking over to Veronica) No offense.
She rolls her eyes.
EDNA enters from the bedroom holding a duster.
EDNA: (sniffing) I no clean that up. Dios mio!
ELI: Okay. Everyone needs to get out of here. We’re having some big clients over to brainstorm a new project.
VERONICA: Why don’t you do it in the office?
ELI: If you recall, you kind of put it out of commission for a while.
CRAWFORD: What, did she drive into it?
VERONICA: No! I (Beat) had a slight cooking accident.
INT. GHOST CHILD GAMES’ BREAK ROOM
Veronica puts a sandwich wrapped in tin foil into the microwave and starts it. She spots a handsome man walking by.
VERONICA: (staring at the man) Well, hello there …
The microwave erupts into flames behind her.
VERONICA: (sniffing) I thought this was a no-smoking office.
She swings around, catches sight of the fire, and screams.
DAVID: A woman who can’t cook. (to Eli) What are you paying her for then?
CRAWFORD: Happy endings, I hope.
WARNER enters, wearing tight jeans and a short sleeve button-down with a tie.
CRAWFORD: When did you go light in the loafers, son?
WARNER: Our potential clients are really fashionable. I wanted to fit in. (to Eli) What are they still doing here?
ELI: I’m trying to kick them out.
DAVID: If your wrist is suddenly limp, does that mean Camilla’s up for grabs now?
WARNER: No, my wife is still very much attracted to me.
DAVID: Wait ‘til she experiences the David Sach’s charm.
EDNA: I go get the Viagra.
THE STUDIO AUDIENCE ERUPTS INTO LAUGHTER. IT CONTINUES FOR SEVERAL HOURS. THE RUMBLINGS AND GYRATIONS OF THEIR BOISTEROUS JOY SLOWLY LIFT THE STUDIO INTO THE AIR, AND THE LOT OF THEM ASCEND TO A SACRED PLACE WHERE THEY ARE FREE FROM THE CRITICS, STUDIO EXECS, FEMINAZIS, AND PC LOSERS THAT HAVE TRIED TO KEEP THEM DOWN FOR SO LONG.
FADE TO BLACK.