Who Loses Wins script, sas murderjoe onthe way to asylum
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INT. POLICE WAGON INTERIOR-7. - DAY
BACK TO: Joe (50), eyes glased, remembering. He returns to
the present.
JOE
(smiling, then profoundly)
It's just that things pile up.
(beat)
We don't know, when the experiences
happen, how important they are.
He giggles insanely then calms.
Bruce unsure, cautiously places his hand on his gun holster,
apprehensive.
JOE (cont'd)
(smiling)
Oh, Lindsay's friend, if you want a
friend like that, bought us, stripped our
assets, sold us, at a huge profit and we
went to the "wall" again some years
later. That was the start.
(beat, shaking his head)
The next thing was how the Government
bolluxed it all up.
BRUCE
(confused)
Bolluxed?
JOE
(grinning)
Messed, defocussed, Fucked!
Bruce, grins, nods.
JOE
"They" sent a consortium in to see if a
little country-town company with an
hundred Patents, a World Market, a unique
Product and a multi-skilled workforce was
worth saving!
BRUCE
Well, so they should.
Joe smiles. Thinks back.
EXT. THE ASYLUM-9. - DAY
BACK TO: The SAS Men. Weapons at "ready". Leader scanning
with binoculars for the target.
Over a radio-communicator
LEADER (V.O.)
Steady!
INT. THE LABORATORY-3. - DAY
The electronic laboratory. 10 years later.
Most electronic equipment have noticeable "Receiver" labels
on them.
The RECEIVER'S LACKY, well-dressed, pastes other labels on
other equipment as he records things in a big book.
Joe (45) works at one bench. Forlornly working.
TWO ENGINEERS (+10 years older-looking) work at two other
benches. Lethargically. They look at the Receivers Lacky
hatefully as he goes about his job ignoring them.
Lindsay (60) enters. Subdued. He walks up to Joe (45). Not so
"Boss" - like. Wants a friend.
LINDSAY
(angry)
That consortium thought we're not worth
saving.
(savagely)
Bastards! Only valued the Patents at ten
thousand dollars. Bastards!
Joe shows the signs of losing his job. The Two Engineers
eavesdrop. Forlornly.
LINDSAY
(determined)
I'm not lost yet. They said the thing I
built up over the past thirty years of my
life is worth nothing! Bloody bastards!
He notices the Receivers Lacky, raises his voice, for effect.
LINDSAY (cont'd)
I'll have 'em!
He angrily exits.
Joe sits, very scared.
The Two Engineers likewise.
The Receivers Lacky smiles. As he continues labelling
equipment and recording in the big book, flamboyant- like.
INT. POLICE WAGON INTERIOR-8. - DAY
BACK TO: Joe (50) returning to the present. Trembling.
Stuck in "yesterday".
BRUCE
(very interested)
Well?
JOE
(mentally returning)
Well?
(beat until trembling stops)
Oh, yes, did he "have" them.
(smiles, a beat the hopelessly)
No, of course he didn't.
BRUCE
(disappointed)
Oh, why not?
JOE
No-one can. It's a big club. If you're
"in", you're "in". Else you're "out"
(sadly)
You've got to fight fire - with - fire,
(quizzically)
haven't you?
Bruce not sure he understands.
JOE (cont'd)
You see, after the Government consortium
said that the company was worth goanna
piss, Lindsay's friend bought it for one
point - two million dollars!
BRUCE
Phew!
Joe laughs. Insanely. Bruce not sure. Fingers his gun again.
BRUCE (cont'd)
(cautiously)
What was that for?
JOE
(calming, then grinning)
You didn't wait for the best bit!
BRUCE
(relaxing)
Oh, what's that?
EXT. THE JOURNEY-3.- DAY
The Police wagon enters through the Asylum gates. Disappears
into the winding road Asylum entry. Slowly.
EXT. THE ASYLUM-10.- DAY
The SAS is coming MUSIC. A few bars.
BACK TO: The Police wagon traversing the Asylum road
entrance. The SAS Men. Weapons at "ready".
Leader sees the Police wagon through his binoculars. Entering
the Asylum gates. Over a radio-communicator
LEADER (V.O.)
Target acquired!
EXT. THE NEWS-STAND-3 - DAY
BACK TO: The news stand. Closed. Outside the Asylum gates.
The two billboards. The paper on them torn and old but still
readable.
The "AUSTRALIAN" BILLBOARD
"MISTRAL BUYS DONGA-DONGA PLANT FOR 24 MILLION DOLLARS"
The "SUN" BILLBOARD
"DONGA-DONGA PLANT SOLD TO US MILLIONAIRE FOR 24 MILLION
DOLLARS?"
INT. POLICE WAGON INTERIOR-9. - DAY
Bruce astounded.
BRUCE
(astounded)
Twenty - four - million - dollars???
What, eighteen months after he bought
it???
Joe grins.
BRUCE (cont'd)
(more astounded)
I don't believe it! Even after the
Government consortium said it was worth
nothing!!!
JOE
(smiling)
Yes, they said that.
(beat)
But, they're only used to rhetoric,
aren't they?
(smiles, sniggers insanely)
One of their "Consultants" probably
bolluxed,
He looks to Bruce for understanding. Bruce grins, nods. He
understands.
JOE (cont'd)
it up. Who knows?
Bruce totally taken with the story. Leans to Joe.
BRUCE
Rhetoric? What's that?
JOE
(distastefully)
Bullshit! Verbally confusing diarrhoea.
(beat, then slowly)
Watch ABC. The Parliament debate. See the
"suits", all gyrating like little kids.
Arguing over who's going to lick whose
lollipop. And realise who's got whose
head stuck up whose anal sphincteral
cavity. So they can get at yours and mine
tax - monies. So they can have the
glamour of being next - in - charge, by
whatever means they deem necessary.
(grins, then, cynically) )
Listen to "Cactus". You'll see the
"Truth".
BRUCE
(looking around)
Shit! No wonder "they" don't like you!
JOE
(grinning)
No, it's not that. If you're "one - of
them", it's alright. Or if you do as
you're told. But,
(beat)
if you're one of "us", wear the wrong
clothes, no good with the rhetoric and
realise the power that we really have,
then, they get scared. We aren't allowed
to really think for ourselves, since, if
we did, we might stop their little game,-
- bollux - up their lives.
BRUCE
(smiling)
Like they "bollux" up ours?
JOE
(eyes lighting, pretending)
A convert!
(seriously)
But then it really started.
(his eyes glase)
EXT. THE ASYLUM-11.- DAY
BACK TO: The Police wagon traversing the Asylum road . A
little bit closer to the SAS Men. Weapons at "ready". Leader
following the progression of the Police wagon. Through his
binoculars. Over a radio-communicator
LEADER (V.O.)
Steady! Target vehicle approaching.
INT. THE THEATRE - DAY
A medium-sized theatre. Partially dismembered. By the "New"
owners. A stage. Presentation plinth.
PEOPLE gathered together. From a small Company. Around 60
people. All nervous. Some factory-workers. Some office
workers. Some engineers. Some secretaries. Someone has "taken
them-over". AGAIN. Room BUZZES with nervous small-talk.
Joe (50), DAVE, RUSSELL, LOKKY, GREG, BRYAN, LIK-LIK and JEFF
amongst the PEOPLE. Quietly watching what is to transpire.
Joe in different - coloured flannelette - shirt, grey slacks.
DAVE in suit, tie. JEFF in coloured shirt, grey slacks.
RUSSELL in white laboratory - coat. Joe stands next to Jeff.
JEFF
(eager, to Joe) )
At last! A management system which will
understand.
JOE
(shrugging)
We'll have to wait and see. If they're
like the Pommie Public Service, then,
we'll really have "Yes Minister"!
(grins)
JEFF
(eager)
No, they've got pots of money. They're
not Public Service. They're Private.
They'll let us get on with the job, let
us do what we're good at. For us and
Australia. Look at what that MacArthur
Park bloke said, "Immense synergy", he
saw and he's their M.D. No, I'm looking
forward to it.
NEVILLE TRIGGER enters. A wizened man. Head like a pineapple.
Half-glasses on string. Low on his nose. Shirtsleeved, suit
trousers and "Company" tie. Manner from being in Public
Service too long. Room instantly QUIET.
Joe thinks. His face expressing distaste and concern.
JOE (V.O.)
Oh shit! It's that pineapple - head who
gave me the heebie - jeebies when that
mob called "Corporate" visited!
(then, slowly, deliberately)
A real "pension - waiter, fuckem - all -
below - and - suckem - all - above -
until - I - get - it" -- type!
Neville Walks to the front of the theatre. Pauses for effect.
Surveys the room. Steps onto the stage. Turns. Surveys the
ceiling, thinking. Addresses the audience.
NEVILLE
(sinisterly smiling)
My name is Neville Trigger.
(long surveying pause)
I will be your General Manager from now
on.
(smile widening, then very
serious)
Some PEOPLE in the audience twitch in nervous
anticipation.
NEVILLE (cont'd)
(superciliously)
I sense that you are nervous.
(smiles again)
No need to be. You are with "The
Company", now, you can forget the past.
(pause, then condescending)
I know how you must have suffered through
the first Receivership, and now the
Mortgagee, but now, you are with a
professional organisation and "We" will
treat you with the right you deserve.
He pauses, surveys the audience forcefully nulling eye
contact.
NEVILLE (cont'd)
We have the backing of immense funds.
He surveys the audience again, nulls any remaining eye
contact.
NEVILLE (cont'd)
There will be no more "paper - rubbish"
or false promises like you have
experienced in the past.
(pause)
I earn half what the GM under the past
regime earned, and, I'm happy with that.
He smiles, expecting appreciation, pauses to get it. Some
PEOPLE timidly laugh.
JOE
(whispering to JEFF)
Thommo earned two hundred kay and had a
BMW worth the same and he was a fuckwit
so this blokes only half - a - fuckwit!
Jeff grins. Dave casts a black look at them.
NEVILLE
(generously)
There will be no redundancies.
PEOPLE noiselessly gasp. Some people relax.
NEVILLE (cont'd)
The Company Policy is forward - looking
and entrepreneurial. We recognise your
synergy, focus and application.
Some people sigh. Others grimace. --- They know! Other people
don't know what he's talking about.
NEVILLE (cont'd)
We have four weeks to reconfigure our
operation to get cash - flow positive,
JOE
(whispering to JEFF)
This isn't a cash - flow business.
Jeff shrugs.
NEVILLE
Before the Managing Director,
(pause, then reverently)
Mr Ken MacArthur-Park,
(pause)
JOE
(whispering to JEFF)
Wonder if he left the cake out?
Jeff giggles. Dave motions quiet.
NEVILLE
Opens this Facility.
(smiles)
Yes, this place is now the "Company
Facility", and,
(reverently)
"Ken",
(smiles, then normally)
as some of us are allowed to refer to him
as, will see through any
misconfiguration.
(benevolent pause)
Thank you for your attention. You are now
dismissed.
He quickly waves his hands, dismissal - like.
People drift out. Confused and not sure.
Joe and Jeff together as they exit.
Neville stands triumphant. Hands - on - hips. Emitting visual
demeaning as he watches them exit. He can handle this low -
life. Handle them easily. He thinks.
NEVILLE (cont'd) (V.O.)
(scathingly)
Country bumpkins! They'll be easy! Handle
them until my pension arrives, no
problem!
JOE
(cynically, to JEFF)
Yeah, these blokes will certainly let us
do something!
Jeff shrugs.
INT. POLICE WAGON INTERIOR-10. - DAY
BACK TO: Joe returning to the present.
BRUCE
What started?
JOE
The "Final Takeover"
(smiles)
by the "Company", the "Public Service",
you name it!
(beat, nostalgically)
How to destroy Australians without really
trying!
(beat, holding back a tear)
Even then, there was no reason. The
"Company "paid me handsomely. All wages
went up by twenty - five percent.
(beat)
Bruce astounded.
JOE (cont'd)
For doing nothing.
(beat, shakes head, then
slowly)
All we had to do was bite our tongues and
do as we were told! Get into the
"sucking" line. Learn the "rhetoric"!
He lapses into self - pity and reminiscing.
INT. G.M.'S OFFICE-1 - DAY
A small General Manager's Office. Somewhat "Public Service"
in appearance.
Neville sits behind the GM desk."Company" suit and tie. Half
glasses on the end of his nose. Dave sits to his right. Suit
and tie. Joe (50), sits, different coloured flannelette
shirt, grey slacks. In the chair, opposite Neville. He
addresses Joe
NEVILLE
Well, Joe, I know that you "designed" a
lot of the,
(sneers)
"Old equipment", like the white "brick",
(grins, cynically)
but,
(beat, then reverently)
"Ken",
(beat)
has said,
(smiles, then normally)
that technological competence must reside
in a major city, it cannot be in a
country town, so, we are going to
reconfigure the technologically
Corporately appraised conglomerate to
essentially conglutenise and, preferably,
rationalise, without prejudice,
He smiles, looks over his half-glasses.
NEVILLE (cont'd)
you realise,
(grins, points his nose
upwards)
our resources,
(coughs)
involuntarily, with mindset,
(picks his nose)
to comply with JIT, TQM, BOM and AS3901,
which,
(condescendingly)
if you didn't know the latter, is
European standard ISO9001,
(smiles, superiorly)
and sub-contract all design to
InventiveTech, in Melbourne, who, "Ken"
has directed, are what "HE" requires,
since they reside within the only capital
city in Australia.
(smiles, long beat)
We need zero defects. Clear mindset.
(beat)
A clear focus.
(beat)
With Corporate, multifarious,
synergistic, enigmatic,
DAVE
(subserviently interrupting)
But Neville! With respect. Joe's been
here seventeen years. Is very creative
and holds many patents on the product we
make,
Neville cuts him short -- aggressively emphatic, looking over
his half - glasses.
NEVILLE
"Ken" has SAID that creativity can ONLY
reside in a Capital City!!
He looks at the door, visually indicating it. Dave shuts up.
Bemused. Joe looks confused. Thinks.
JOE (V.O.)
What a bloody WALLY!
Neville addresses Dave, peering upwards, looking downwards
through his half-glasses.
NEVILLE
If Joe wants to, he can write a report on
what he can do and submit it to me
(to Joe, over his half-glasses)
Send it to "The Divisional Office"
(smiles, godlike)
my, Melbourne office, Okay?
(smiles - Chesire - cat-like)
In quadruplicate.
Joe nods. In complete confusion and subservience.
NEVILLE (cont'd)
(to Dave)
How's the move going? Within budget I
hope?
DAVE
(glumly)
Yes, within budget, we've only spent
three - hundred thousand and have another
eighty thousand to go.
Neville nods. Purses his lips. Totally in charge.
INT. THE BOG - DAY
A male small toilet. Two-man. Two adjacent stand-up urinals.
Two wash-hands sinks nearby.
Dave and Joe (50), stand side-by-side. Urinating.
DAVE
I can't do anything about it Joe, the
bugger's got too much power.
JOE
(shaking his head)
I understand Dave, but he's going to
destroy us all! Bollux - up a unique
Australian competent industry. He hasn't
a damn clue!
DAVE
(shrugging)
Do as you're told and,
(beat -- readjusts aiming
angle)
take the money.
Joe concerned -- unconsciously spraying around the urinal
porcelain.
JOE
But it's not right, Dave. It's not
right!
(beat)
It's really "our" money, isn't it?
Dave shrugs, shakes his dick, zips up and walks to wash his
hands. Joe zips up as he walks to stand beside Dave.
JOE
Lindsay's mate turned one - point - two
million dollars into twenty - four when
he took over the "Old Company". Then the
Government thought the thing wasn't worth
investing in!
(beat)
It let twenty - four million dollars go
to USA!
(beat)
Now these "Public Wallies" come in and
REALLY start bolluxing it up!!!!
DAVE
(condescendingly)
Take the money!
JOE
But, Dave. They're only in it for
themselves. They think we're country
bumpkins. They're worse than Lindsay's
mate!
DAVE
(puzzled)
How'd you mean?
JOE
Lindsay's mate "really" owned the
Company. You knew, with him, that if you
weren't needed by him you were out. He
WAS commercial! These wallies aren't!
(pause, then with fervour)
I bet they don't even own their own
arses!
(pause, then fumingly)
They've just got big pockets! And know
how to make their mouths work!!
Dave smiles, hides it and turns away.
JOE (cont'd)
It's all Public money, your's and mine,
which they're pissing around with. "OUR"
money!!
DAVE
Who're you going to tell? Are you going
to the "Top"? Bypassing these fuckwits?
(shakes his head)
Won't do you no good. They're all "in"
it! What do you gain? Just out the door!
He finishes hand - washing, -- emphasises;
DAVE (cont'd)
No - one cares. No - one will thank YOU!
(beat)
TAKE the MONEY!!!
(shakes his head, then, softly)
Like I do.
Joe finishes hand - washing. Shakes his head.
JOE
(muttering)
It's not right, It's not right.
EXT. THE ASYLUM-12.- DAY
BACK TO: The Police wagon traversing the Asylum road
entrance. A little bit closer to the SAS Men. Weapons at
"ready". Over a radio-communicator
LEADER (V.O.)
(questioning)
Acquired?
EXT. THE ASYLUM-13.- DAY
A VIEW through the telescopic sights of a weapon. The DRIVER
(Bill) of the Police wagon. Crosshairs. Slowly TRAVERSING to
centre on Joe's head. Through the Police wagon rear
compartment window.
EXT. THE ASYLUM-14.- DAY
BACK TO: The Police wagon traversing the Asylum road
entrance. A little bit closer to the SAS crossfire. ANCHOR
aiming his weapon. Over a radio-communicator.
ANCHOR (V.O.)
Target acquired!
INT. POLICE WAGON INTERIOR-11. - DAY
BACK TO: Joe returning to the present.
BRUCE
Sounds just like our place.
(shakes his head)
It must come from the top. It's always
like that at our place,
Joe starts thinking again. Not listening to Bruce.
JOE (V.O.)
The top? Yes, always from the top.
That's how it always begins.
(beat)
They decided to take us over,
Joe's eyes glase, imagines;
INT. THE BOARDROOM-1 - DAY
A typical expensive Boardroom. Large expensive wood - table.
Rectangularly oval. Expensive chairs. Expensive decor.
KEN MacARTHUR-PARK, JIM, LES, NIGEL, and JOHN sit around the
table. Discussing Take-over of the Donga-Donga company.
Neville sits quietly to attention. In one corner. Looks like
he's not listening.
ALL dressed in the SAME colour "Company" suit and "Company"
tie.
ALL subservient to Ken. NOTICEABLY sycophantically
subservient. Subservience bred from Public Service
oligarchy. Jim sits at Ken's right-hand, Nigel to Ken's left.
Les next to Jim. John next to Les. Sitting in "pecking"
order.
MANY chairs empty. Those already retrenched. From a Public
Body preparing to go Private.
KEN
(godlike)
I've convinced the Board it's viable. We
need to work out a final decision.
They'll accept our recommendation.
JIM
(eager)
Good, they've got real get-up and go,
Australian - fashion. Immense synergistic
appreciation of their Market and Product.
Extremely creative and totally
Australian!
KEN
(quietly, questioning)
Synergistic appreciation?
LES
(echoing, nodding)
Synergistic appreciation?
JOHN
(echoing, nodding)
Synergistic appreciation?
NIGEL
(echoing, nodding)
Synergistic apprec..
KEN
(interrupting, casual question)
Synergistic appreciation? In a country
town?
(shakes his head)
EVERYONE looks at one another. Trying to predict what Ken
means.
Les distracted. Looks around. Wonders why Neville is there.
Doesn't like him. Silently sneers at him.
Neville stares straight ahead. Unmoved. Unmoving.
KEN (cont'd)
But are the predicted sales accurate?
Will they achieve a fifty- million dollar
turnover, discounted NPV, of course, in
the first Financial year?
NIGEL
(nodding)
Discounted NPV, of course....
JOHN
(echoing, nodding)
Discounted NPV, of course.
LES
(mentally returning from
eyeballing Neville, echoing,
nodding)
Synergistic appreciation?
EVERYONE glares at him.
LES (cont'd)
(embarrassed, nodding)
Discounted NPV, of course....
(beat, looks around)
EVERYONE hanging on what he will say next. He's Ken's
familiar.
LES (cont'd)
(to Ken, very confidently)
Why, Ken, I can absolutely, irrefutably,
misonagomously, didactically elucidate
that if they can't then, its our mindset,
(beat, looks around,
accusingly)
something is severely wrong with our
methods of marketing. Our focus must be
irretrievably, incorrectly focussed.
He looks at Nigel accusingly. Nigel confused, it's got
nothing to do with him. He looks fearfully at Ken.
KEN
O.K., then, we'll buy them --- BUT, only
their accomplishments, we don't want..
(sneers)
"country peasants" as a liability.
(looks up)
Do we?
(to himself)
Technical excellence must reside in a
city.
EVERYONE nods. Ken is angry. EVERYONE looks at each other.
Frightened. Then realise. EVERYONE negates. Shake their
heads. Ken is happy.
KEN (cont'd)
I proactively pre - empted "our"
decision and brought Neville along.
He indicates Neville, wavey - hand like, distastefully.
EVERYONE in synchronously turn to glare at Neville. He
statue-like. Unmoving. Staring straight ahead.
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