( IT'S A TERRIBLE LIFE )

BEDROOM
[ ☼ ]

      An alarm clock flips from 5:59 to 6:00 and starts beeping. A hand shuts it off.

KITCHEN
[ ☼ ]

      A coffee cup being filled from an espresso machine. The cup is held by Dean, who is in business dress with his hair slicked down.

STREET
[ ☼ ]

      Dean crosses the street to a silver Toyota Prius. Dean starts the car. Rock music blares. He looks at it, confused, and changes the station. Dean drives off in the Prius.

SKYSCRAPER-LOBBY
[ ☼ ]

      Dean gets out of the elevator and crosses the lobby. There's a Sandover Bridge & Iron history display along one wall. Dean enters an office labeled "Dean Smith-Director, Sales & Marketing".

DEAN'S OFFICE
[ ☼ ]

      Dean types at a computer. He laughs into a phone headset. Cut to a conversation with someone now in Dean's office. "All I wanna know is when are they gonna have another show like Project Runway? Man." He says.

      Dean flips his tie over his shoulder and eats a salad. Later he is standing and speaking into the headset. "Net profitability aside, it's the client-retention rate that concerns me vis-à-vis maximizing return on sales. Buzz me back once you've seen the spreadsheets." He says as another someone enters the office. "Mr. Adler."

      "Dean." Adler slaps Dean on the shoulder. "Good stuff."

      "Good stuff?" Dean asks.

      "Big things. Good stuff."

     "Good stuff." Dean repeats.

DEAN'S OFFICE
[ ☾]

      Dean is sitting at his desk playing with something and speaking into the headset. "Oh I hear you. No, I haven't been to the gym in ages. Carrying a little bloat around myself. It's a sedentary lifestyle, my man, no two ways. -All right, tell me one more time. You said lemon and-what was it? Cayenne and maple syrup, are you serious? How much did you lose?" Dean puts some files in a case and leaves the office.

OFFICE LOBBY
[ ☾]

      Dean is checking his phone. The elevator dings. Dean enters, focused on the phone. He looks over at the other occupant of the elevator, who is staring at him; it's Sam, who's wearing a short-sleeved shirt that says "Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc. Tech Support".

      "Do I know you?" Sam says.

      "I don't think so."

      "I'm sorry, man, you just look really familiar." Sam says.

      "Save it for the health club, pal." The elevator dings again and Dean gets out. Sam stares after him.

CUBICLE FARM
[ ☼ ]

      A printer whirs and spits out a paper. A fax machine whirs and sucks in papers. An automatic pencil sharpener whirs. A phone rings. Sam presses a button on the phone and talks into a headset. "Tech support, this is Sam Wesson. Okay. Uh, well, did you try turning it off and then on?" Sam pokes at a vampire bobblehead. "Okay, go ahead and turn it off. No no no, just, just off. All right, give it a second. Turn it back on. Okay, is it printing now? Great. Anytime." Sam takes off the headset and presses a button on the phone.

       A Man at a cubicle behind Sam, the only one in the room who is not wearing the yellow uniform shirt, rolls his chair over to Sam. "Hey." He says.

      "Yo." Says Sam.

      "What do you think of Mimi?"

      Sam looks over and shrugs. "She's okay." He says.

      "Might have to hit that."

      "Oh, dude, that's totally age-inappropriate." Sam says.

      "Experience." The Man says.

      "Trifocals."

      "There's a milf there, Sam. I just know it. Maybe a gmilf." He says.

      "Come on." Sam says.

      "Coffee break?"

      "Yeah, for sure." Sam says. Sam and the Man get up. They pass another Man at his cubicle.

      "Paul. Time for a refuel, buddy." The Man says.

      "Sorry, no time." Paul says.

      "Since when? Dude, we get paid by the hour."

      "Working." Says Paul.

      "Okay."

      "He seems stressed." Sam says.

      "Freaked because he got busted surfing p0rn on the Internet."

      "No, no, no way. When?" Says Sam.

      "Got sent up to HR yesterday. Guess they put the fear of God in him."

BREAK ROOM
[ ☼ ]

      The microwave dings and someone takes out a bag of popcorn and leaves. Sam heads for the coffeepot. The Man goes to a supply cabinet and starts pocketing packets of pencils. "Ian, dude." Sam says.

      "Just doing a little shopping. Running low at home." Ian says as Sam hands him a cup of coffee. "So, Sam, had any of those dreams lately?" Sam turns away. "What? Don't be like that. Come on. It's the highlight of my day."

      "I never should have told you in the first place." Sam says.

      "They're genius. Don't hold out on me, dude. Share with the class." Ian says.

      "You're just gonna be a dick about it."

      "What? No way. I won't say a word. Total respect. Go." He says.

      "I dreamt that me, some guy and a girl rescued a Reaper and stopped the apocalypse. "

      Ian bursts out laughing. Sam looks away and sighs. "Classic! How much D&D did you play when you were a kid? Oh, my-okay, so you-rescuing the Grim Reaper. That's-you're a hero. I mean, thank God we got Harry Potter here to save us all from the apocalypse." He says.

      "Dick."

      "Wizard." Ian says. "You smell that?"

      "Smell what?" Sam asks.

      "Lavender."

      "So?" Sam asks.

      "I've been working here for a long time." Says Ian. "And I know the smell of a pretty girl."

      Heels are heard as the boys look out into the hallway. They girl just passes by, too late for the boys to get a look at her. All they see is a high ponytail, a grey pencil skirt.

      "She's got a nice ass." Ian says.

      "Dude." Sam says.

      "I wonder where she's going." Ian says as the girl turns the corner. The girl lets her ponytail sway as she walks to the door that is labeled "Dean Smith". She knocks.

      "Come in." Dean says.

      The girl opens the door and walks in. Dean is sitting at his desk, not paying any attention to her. "Hi, I'm Elena Sommers. I'll be your new assistant." She says.

      "I never asked for an assistant." Dean says and looks up from his papers. "But I'd love to have one."

      He's now noticing how attractive this girl was. She had a high ponytail and cute pair of black framed glasses. Something about her made him want to know more.

      "What did you say your name was again?" Dean asks.

      "Elena Sommers, sir." She says.

      Dean smiles and steps closer with a paper in hand. "Please, call me Dean." He says.

      "Well, Dean." Elena says. "Would you like me to do anything for you?"

      Dean's eyes scan her perfect body. "Oh I'm thinking of a million things right now." He mumbles.

      "Excuse me?"

      "I said I need you to run a few errands for me." Dean hands her the piece of paper.

      Elena reads it carefully. "I'll get to it right away." She says.

      "I'm sure you will."

CUBICLE FARM
[ ☼ ]

      A printer whirs and spits out a paper. A fax machine whirs and sucks in papers. An automatic pencil sharpener whirs. Sam is back in his cubicle, filling out a form on a clipboard. He yawns and props his head on his hand, closing his eyes.

ELEVATOR
[ ☼ ]

      Sam enters the elevator. Dean and a few others are there. Sam tries not to stare at Dean while the elevator whirs. Everyone but Sam and Dean gets out. The elevator closes. "Can I ask you a question?" Sam asks.

      "Look, man, I told you, I'm not into the, uh-" Dean starts.

      "Oh dude, come on, I'm not either. I just wanna ask you one question." Sam says.

     Dean looks around; there's no escape. "Sure." He says.

      "What do you think about ghosts?"

      "Ghosts?" Dean asks.

      "Do you believe in them?" Sam asks.

      Dean laughs. "Uh, tell you the truth, I've never given it much thought." He says.

      "Vampires?"

      "What? Why?" Asks Dean.

      "Because I've been having some weird dreams lately. You know what I mean?" Sam asks.

      "No. Not really."

      "So you've never had any...weird dreams?" Sam asks.

      "All right, look, man, I don't know you, okay? But I'm gonna do a public service and, uh, let you know that-that you overshare." Dean presses a floor button. The elevator dings and Dean leaves.

CUBICLE FARM
[ ☼ ]

      A printer whirs and spits out a paper. A fax machine whirs and sucks in papers. An automatic pencil sharpener whirs. Sam is again in his cubicle addressing his headset. "Did you turn it off, then on?" Sam is drawing vampires on a pad of paper. "All right, well, let's try that. No, no, it's fine, I'll wait." Sam pulls up a search engine on his computer, looks both ways, and types in 'vampires'. He clicks to image search and glances over the pictures of Dracula wannabes. "Is it printing now? Oh, that's great. Anytime."

       "Whatcha doing?" Ian asks. Sam minimizes the search engine and hides the sketches, then turns to Ian, shaking his head. He is still the only one not wearing the yellow shirt.

      "Nothing." Sam says.

      "You get an email from Human Resources?"

      "No. Why?" Sam asks.

      "Damn it. Guess it's just me, then. I'm supposed to, quote, report to HR, unquote." Ian says.

      "They're probably finally busting you for snaking all those office supplies."

      "I hope they spank me." Ian laughs, shoves his chair back to his cubicle, and leaves. Sam returns to his search engine.

      "No no no no no no. Come on. Don't do this to me. Please." Paul says.

      Sam minimizes the window, takes off his headset, and stands up to lean over Paul's cubicle. "Hey, man, you okay?" Sam asks.

      "It froze."

      "They're crap, Paul. They freeze all the time." Sam says.

      "You don't understand. When I, when I rebooted, everything was gone. A whole day's work deleted." Says Paul.

      "Well, did you back up?"

      "No, I didn't back up. I wish to God I backed up but I didn't. I'll get it back. I'll find it. It's somewhere. I'll find it." Paul says.

      "Paul, it's okay, man. These things happen." Sam says. "I'm getting coffee. You want any?"

      "No thanks." Paul says, eyes glued to the screen.

     Sam shakes his head and gets up from the desk. He doesn't watch where he's going when he bumps into someone. "I'm so sorry." A female voice says. She bends down to pick her things up.

       Sam realizes it's the girl from before, so he bends down and helps too. "It's alright. Technically it was my fault." He says. He finally gets a good look at her and sucks in his breath.

      She was perfect. She had that innocent look with the doe eyes to match. She also had the perfect head of silky brown hair the flowed elegantly in a ponytail. She looks at him and smiles.

      "I'm Elena." She holds a hand out.

      Sam smiles back. "I'm Sam. Are you new here?"

      "Is it that obvious?" She asks nervously.

      "No. It's just that I-uh..." Sam starts. "I'm good with faces. And I would've remembered yours."

      Elena smiles and puts her hair behind her ear. "I'm Dean's new assistant." She says as Sam stares at her for a moment. "What?"

      "It's like I know you..." Sam says.

      "You must have the wrong person." She says and grabs her stuff and walks away, looking over her shoulder.

CUBICLE FARM
[ ☾]

      The room is dark and empty except for Paul's cubicle. "Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on. Please. Please." He said. The screen displays "ERROR: No Files Found". "All that work. Gone. Failed."

       Paul's breath is briefly visible. He gets up and walks to the break room. He breaks the tines off two plastic forks, opens the microwave, sticks the forks in where the door latches, enters 10:00 on the timer, sticks his head in, and presses start. Smoke and screams. Cut to black; the microwave dings.

CUBICLE FARM
[ ☼ ]

      People in coroner outfits roll a body bag past. Sam watches and sighs. Dean and several other people, including Elena and some in suits and some in the yellow shirts, also watch. Sam and Dean notice each other. Dean addresses another suit.

      "Something about this seem not right to you?" Dean asks.

     "Uh, yeah, try the whole thing. I'm telling you, man, I'll never eat popcorn again."

      "Yeah, right." Dean says.

DEAN'S OFFICE
[ ☼ ]

      Dean is at his computer, accessing the Sandover personnel file for Paul Dunbar. It says his retirement party was supposed to be in two weeks. "Two weeks?" Dean says.

CUBICLE FARM
[ ☼ ]

      Sam rolls his chair over to Ian's cubicle. Ian is wearing the yellow shirt for the first time and working busily. "Hey. Why would someone kill themselves two weeks before they were supposed to retire? I mean, Paul was two weeks from freedom. He should have been happy, right?" Sam says.

      "I don't have time for this, Sam." Ian says.

      Sam laughs. "That's very funny." Sam notices his shirt and attitude. "What's with you?"

      "I'm working. It's important."

      "HR bust your balls or something? You're wearing the shirt. Did you shave?" Sam asks. A phone rings.

      "Tech support, this is Ian. Be right up. Gotta go up to twenty-two, speak to a manager." Ian takes off the headset and leaves.

DEAN'S OFFICE
[ ☼ ]

      Ian knocks at the open door. Dean looks up from his computer. "Hi. Ian, is it? Yeah, come on in. Yesterday you filled out a 445-T and no problem, just a few errors when we did your switch over to Vista. So I'm sure you're used to filling out the dash-R's, am I right?" Dean asks.

      "Oh, no." Ian says.

      "No no no. It's fine. It's fine. I just need you to redo one today so I can get the show on the road with the invoicing." Dean pushes a paper over the desk and smiles.

      Ian looks at it, terrified. "Oh my god." He says.

     "No, it's fine. Just refile it and we're square." Dean says.

     "I can't believe I did this." Ian says as Dean begins to notice something's wrong. "I can't believe I-I can't believe I did this."

      "Hey, guy, come on."

      "No, no. It affected profits. It-I screwed up. I-I can't-I can't-I am so sorry. I-how could I do that? I failed Sandover. I failed the company." Ian rambles.

      "All right, why don't you sit down, Ian?" Dean asks.

      "No." Ian runs out of the room.

      "Ian? Ian. Hey." Dean follows him.

BATHROOM
[ ☼ ]

      Dean enters the bathroom. "Ian, hey. Just chill out, man. Okay?" He says.

      Ian is staring into a mirror. Dean's breath is briefly visible. All the faucets come on even though Ian and Dean are the only ones in the room; all the soap dispensers, too.

      "Ian, hey, maybe we should get out of here, huh? Come on. Ian. Look at me." Dean says.

      Ian turns toward Dean and pulls a pencil out of his pocket. Ian stares at Dean for a moment, then stabs himself in the neck. Dean stares at the spout of blood and rushes forward as Ian collapses. Dean looks up and sees an Old Man in the mirror, then turns around and no one's there. Ian goes still.

      "Somebody help me!"

CORRIDOR
[ ☼ ]

      "No, I, I followed him into the bathroom." Dean says. The coroner people roll a body bag past, again with an audience. Dean is talking to a police officer. "He was, uh-he was standing there in front of the mirror, and then-" Dean sees Sam and stops.

      "Continue. Sir."

      "And he stabbed himself in the neck. I'm sorry, that's, um..." Dean starts.