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            INT. THE MEW-1.- DAY

            A medium-sized meeting room. Two video monitors. At each end
            of the room. A display screen.  Viewfoil projector. A long
            table. Square U - shaped. 20 chairs. A small table in front
            of the long table. For 6 people. Minties on tables. In
            dishes. Large white manuals on- table. In front of each

            20 PEOPLE sit at long table. 6 PEOPLE at front table. All 
            varying  "acceptable", casual  attire.  

            Brian Suit addressing them. "Acceptable" casual attire.
            "Company" tie. 

            Joe, (50), neat casual attire, sits on the long table. Next -
            but - one to LINDA, attractively dressed in two-piece
            matching red coat, skirt. Well-filled blouse underneath.
            Slightly undone. Attractive make-up.  

            DOUG in audience. Green suit. Seated in front of Joe, at the
            short table. 

            Joe cannot take his eyes off Linda. Slyly. Sideways.

                          (smiling, genuinely)
                      Welcome to this 'MEW", the fifth
                      'Management Education Week'....

            Joe thinks. Looking at Linda. Her voluptuous charms.

                      Look at her nockers! Her face! Couldn't
                      you get across that, Joe!

            Linda commences to caress a pen in front of her. Long nails.
            Very red nail-polish. Caressing sensually.

                                JOE (cont'd) (V.O.)
                          (erotically aroused)
                      Oh! Ohhhhh!

                                BRIAN (V.O.)
                      You will experience many things, many
                      positive and negative things....

            Linda picks up the pen she caresses. Puts it in her mouth.
            Manipulating it.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                          (very erotically aroused)

                                BRIAN (V.O.)
                      You will learn about other areas of both
                      yourself and the "Company"...

            Joe's face. Imagines.


            A typical hotel corridor. 

            Linda and Joe, (25), walking along the corridor.  Evening
            attire. Linda very seductive -looking. Low-cut costume.
            They stop outside one room. Linda bends. Joe sees her
            breasts. Reacts. Silent total desire. Linda unlocks the door.
            Opens it. Turns to Joe. Sensually.

                      Come in, Joe.

            They enter. The door closes.

                                KEN (V.O.)
                      You are the Middle Management future of
                      the "Company"...


            The SOUND of a heartbeat.

            INT. THE MEW-2.- DAY

            BACK TO:	Ken, standing in front of the audience. Presenting
            the M.D.'s intentions, very quiet, self - conciously

                      You have all to acquire the mindset of
                      business persons.
                      We cannot survive unless you do. You are
                      our future. Then, in a few years time, we
                      can go Private.

            Some PEOPLE in the audience impressed.

                                KEN (cont'd)
                      We have to export to survive. Develop our
                      own technology to survive. Not merely buy
                      foreign technology...

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Too bloody right you do! If only you
                      meant it! Bloody hypocritical WALLY!
                      Disagree with any of you corporate cock
                      sucking Wallies and "out-the-door"!
                      Downsized to outplacement!

            Joe shakes his head. Disgusted. Totally bored. Glances at
            Linda. HE smiles. Daydream returns.

            INT. HOTEL ROOM-1. - NIGHT

            The small hotel room. 

            Joe  P.O.V.;  Linda disrobing herself.  Very sexily. Climbing
            onto the bed. Squatting on Joe's thighs. Manipulating herself
            onto him.....

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      ..and one telephone call removed four
                      million dollars from our budget.....


            The SOUND of a heartbeat.

            INT. THE MEW-3.- DAY

            BACK TO:  The MEW meeting room where Neville has replaced
            Ken. Neville continuing his presentation, smiling, weakly,
            over half-glasses, low on his nose

                      No mind, we have to go on. Maintain clear
                      unequivocal, Corporate synergistic,
                      enigmatic, proactive focussed mindset.
                          (beat, looks floorwards, then
                      The company we took over had no order

            Joe grimaces. A lie! Vehemently thinks.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Course not!  You, bloody wally let
                      MacArthur-Park turn down seven million
                      when he refused to buy the US office!
                      Then you spent another million getting in
                      bed with Odetics! That only lasted nine
                      months! Now you're looking for another US
                      "Teaming" you call it!
                      I call it "Wallying"!

                      ..and eighty people....

            Joe grimaces. A lie! Thinks.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Not now, you fired nearly half of them!
                      Gave the others away! One - point -two
                      million dollars that cost. Just enough
                      for you to run the three people at
                      Division in Melbourne until next years

                      So we were attempting to do the
                      impossible. It was a vertically
                      structured, totally unintegrated
                      composite anathema of an organisation,
                      unlike our competitors.
                          (beat, looks around)
                      But knowing the employees synergy and
                      with my management focus and mindset, we
                      restructured, listened to them....

            Joe really pissed off. Thinks.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Bullshit! You tell us what to do, what to
                      think, don't listen to us and use fear of
                      dismissal to turn us all into Public
                      Servants like yourself. Bloody, Ken -
                      cock - sucking wally!

                      ...and came up with new products.........

            Joe cannot take many more lies. Thinks.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Like the MPITS you spent one and a half
                      million dollars on, which'll take the
                      same to finish and no - one wants it!
                      And, what's more, you let Corporate blame
                      us for it's cost!

            Joe shakes his head. Grits his teeth. Cannot listen more.
            Looks at Linda caressing her knee, black stockings. Long 
            nails. Very red-nail-polish. Very  sensual caressing; 

            The SOUND of finger-nails on nylons. 

            The SOUND of lovemaking.

            INT. HOTEL ROOM-2. - NIGHT

            BACK TO:	The small hotel room. 

            Joe P.O.V.; Linda making love to him. Astride his thighs
            Wanting him, doing it to him. ALL imagined actions revolving
            around HIM.

                                JOE (V.O.)

            The video plays. Interrupting Joe's imagining.

                                VOICE (V.O.)
                          (from video)
                      ..and our self-talk makes us imagine.....

                                JOE (V.O.)


            The SOUND of a heartbeat.

            INT. THE MEW-4.- DAY

            BACK TO:	Linda scratching her knee. Merely scratching it. 

            Joe grins.

                                JOE (V.O.)

            BLACKNESS. The SOUND of a heartbeat.


            BACK TO:	 Joe lying on the floor of the wagon.  Bruce
            reaching down to him. Frozen in time. 

            P.O.V. Joe; Another SPURT of blood past our eyes. 


            The SOUND of a heartbeat.

            INT. HOTEL ROOM-3. - NIGHT

            The  small hotel room.  

            Joe, (50), lies in bed. Dressing gown  Smoking. Thinking
            about the day's events. Long can of Guinness beside him.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      So I'm not really me, but a collection of
                      random talkings to myself.

            Joe grins. Puffs the fag, exhales. Drinks from the can.

                                JOE (cont'd) (V.O.)
                      Then, who the bloody hell am I?

            The SAS is coming MUSIC. Soft. Almost inaudible. A few bars.

                                SOFT VOICE (V.O.)
                      That Linda, just imagine her lying on
                      you. Doing it to you....

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Who said that?

                                DIFFERENT VOICE (V.O.)
                      Have a wank, go-on, it'll do you good.

                                ANOTHER VOICE (V.O.)
                       No, don't do that, you'll go blind.

                                SOFT VOICE (V.O.)
                      Have a drink, go on, it's on the

            Joe gets anxious.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Who's talking?

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      Bloody country bumpkin...

                                VOICE (V.O.)
                      Don't let him shit on you!

                                KEN (V.O.)
                      Bloody synergistic country bumpkin, no
                      focused little arsehole! Never be a
                      business entity, never. Don't wear the
                      right clothes, speak the rhetoric, little
                      good - for - nothing, by - accident
                      middle - manager!

                                SOFT VOICE (V.O.)
                      Don't listen to him! He's a self-
                      opinionated analising succubus!

            Joe gets panicky.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      They're all different voices! Never
                      realised before. 
                      An affirmation, yes, an affirmation!
                      Maybe it'll stop them!

            Joe very pensive. A little bit scared.

                                JOE (cont'd) (V.O.)
                      Mr MacArthur-Park said I am to be a
                      business entity, so,...
                          (beat, then slowly)
                      I.... am.... a.... business..... entity.

            Joe nods.

                                GOD-LIKE VOICE (V.O.)
                      You musn't let them wallies shit on you,

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Who said that? 

            Joe concerned. Looks around, for the source of the voice.
            Contemplates. Realises what has been happening to him
            throughout the past three years with the "Company".

            INT. NEVILLE-1 - DAY.

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      We'll go at two mil, we'll get it. You'll
                      see. You're with the big boys now. 

            INT. NEVILLE-2 - DAY.

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      We'll go with Odetics in the USA. 
                      Teaming, we call it, you wouldn't
                      understand Joe.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      But you knocked-back the old USA company
                      which would have cost you peanuts...

            INT. NEVILLE-3 - DAY.

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      Indoor ranges are out. There's no market
                      for them.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      But what about the thirteen requests to
                      tender for them?

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      Bob's looking into that aren't you Bob?

                                BOB (V.O.)
                      Oh, yeah. 
                          (bursts into smoker - coughing)

            INT. NEVILLE-4 - DAY.

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      There's no market in pyrotechnics or
                      trailers, Joe. Believe me. I know.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      But the Army contract's worth twelve
                      million dollars and we wrote the
                      specification! It'll go abroad if we
                      don't tender.

            INT. NEVILLE-5 - DAY.

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      They're a load of country bumpkins, Ken.
                      No good at design. Just good at doing as
                      they're told as good Public Servants

                                KEN (V.O.)
                      I thought so. Technical excellence
                      definitely resides in a city.

                                LES (V.O.)
                      ..in a city.

                                NIGEL (V.O.)
                      ..in a city.

                                JOHN (V.O.)
                      ..in a city.

                      ..in a city, .....in a city.

            INT.  NEVILLE-6 - DAY.

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      These ideas of yours Joe, are not viable.
                      Training with a Steyr is at a distance of
                      400 metres so it wouldn't work.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      But Neville, I've been in the business at
                      least fourteen years longer than you....

                                BOB (V.O.)
                      You don't talk to your Chief General
                      Manager like that....


            INT. NEVILLE-7 - DAY.

            Neville appears, transparently before Joe. Reiterates in
            increasing speed fashion. Getting louder. He facially negates
            when talking to Joe. Facially sycophantically accommodates

                      Won't work! Joe. 
                          (beat, then subserviently)
                      My idea will work, Ken. 
                          (beat, then sneering)
                      No good, Joe. 
                          (beat, then subserviently)
                      My faith in Inventivetech will make it
                      happen, Ken. 
                          (beat, then sneering)
                      Cannot be done, Joe, no mindset. 
                          (beat, then subserviently)
                      I can do it Ken. 
                          (beat, then sneering)
                      No good, Joe, wrong culture. 
                          (beat, then subserviently)
                      Of course my idea will work, Ken. 
                          (beat, then sneering)
                      Can't be done, Joe. 
                          (beat, then subservient)
                      They're country bumpkins, just as you
                      said, Ken. 


            The SOUND of a heartbeat.

            INT.  THE STEAKPIT. - NIGHT.

            A restaurant.  

            PEOPLE eating. MISTY. Not important. 

            Table for 8. Bob sits opposite FIRST ASIAN. OTHER ASIAN sits
            alongside BOB. TWO ASIANS sit next to FIRST ASIAN. PETSY, LIK
            LIK, LOKKY and Bryan sit in remaining places. All dressed in
            business attire. Generally eating. Talking.  Bob inebriated.
            Loud. Excessively smoking and drinking.

                      We've had some fuckwit customers in the
                      past, haven't we?
                          (turns to the others)
                      Funny cunts, weren't they?

            He laughs loudly, bursts into a smokers cough, spitting food
            everywhere. Bryan, Lokky and Greg grimace. Embarrassed. Lik
            Lik grins. All Asians look uncomfortable. The nearest wipe
            food from attire. Look at Bob with displeasure.

                                BOB (cont'd)
                      Yeah, came to us they did, for a system,
                      just like you lot did.

            He drinks and replenishes his empty glass. All Asians look at
            one another, forlornly.

                                BOB (cont'd)
                      We quoted twenty - four kay and they went
                      to open tender so we quoted nineteen.
                      They took it but sent twenty - four kay.
                      So, what did we do?

            He looks around, grinning, then in achievement voice;

                                BOB (cont'd)
                      We took the bloody money!
                          (laughs, drunkenly)
                      And what's more,

            He chokes in mirthful anticipation, turns, pushes the Asian
            next to him, who doesn't welcome the push.

                                BOB (cont'd)
                      They bloody well came back and asked for
                      a display and we doubled it's price and
                      added fifty-percent. They paid!

            He breaks into a laughing smokers cough. 

            NO - ONE is amused. Bob drinks. Pours another drink. Downs it
            in one go. Burps and farts loudly. Adjusts himself.

                                BOB (cont'd)
                          (proudly grinning at all)
                       That's better.
                          (beat, looks around demeaning)
                      Do you know I'm a racist?

            EVERYONE looks at one another. ALL Asians disgusted. ALL
            OTHERS embarrassed. PEOPLE embarrassed. Greg quietly attempts

                      Shut - up Bob!

            Bryan and Lokky shake their heads in disgust. Lik-Lik grins.

                      I hate yanks, poms, wogs, spics, japs,
                      jonks, wonks, and squints, but you.....

            He touches First Asian's arm, grins, slobberingly;

                                BOB (cont'd)
                      you lot,...you're alright, you lot.

            He leans back, lights a fag, pours another drink, farts,
            adjusts himself. 

            First Asian recoils in distaste. Gets up. Moves down to join
            Bryan and OTHERS. ALL Asians look at one another, forlornly.
            PEOPLE shake their heads.  Bob continues eating with gusto.


            A typical restaurant carpark. Greg, First Asian, Other Asian
            and Two Asians walk grouped together along row of parked
            cars. ALL solemn. Embarrassed. Lik-Lik grinning, Lokky and
            Bryan solemn, embarrassed, walk grouped together behind.  

            Bob in front.  By himself. Inebriated. Staggering somewhat.
            He stops at the rear of a white Holden Berlina. Adjusts
            himself. Lights a cigarette. Clears his throat. Phlegms on
            the floor. Turns to the following group. Slurred speech.

                      I'll take the visitors. 

            He turns, falls over the boot of the Holden, regains his

                                BOB (cont'd)
                      After all I'm the only one with a
                      suitable company vehicle. 
                          (laughs loudly)

            ALL  Asians  look embarrassed. Lokky,  and  Bryan
            embarrassedly walk on. Lil-Lik grins and walks on. Greg
            stands there concerned. 

            Bob gets in the Holden. ALL Asians reluctantly get into the
            Holden. First Asian in the front. Other Asians in the rear.
            Greg walks round to the driver's window. Concerned.

                      Are you alright to drive Bob?

                      I'm a better driver when I've had a few,
                      Go - on, piss-off.

            Greg looks past Bob to First Asian and shrugs.  First Asian
            grimaces. Looks downwards. Greg exits unhappy.


            Bob starts the Holden.  Slams it into  reverse. Reverses. 
            Wheels SCREECHING.  Black SMOKE. Fierce braking.  

            ALL Asians very concerned and frightened. Grabbing anything
            in their fear.

                      Sorry, my foot slipped. 

            He grins then bursts into cough, clears his throat and spits
            out of the car window. 

            ALL Asians are terrified as the Holden screeches forward.

            EXT. THE ORDER. - NIGHT

            A police breathaliser road-block.  A police-car at roadside.
            Lights flashing. Two Policemen.  Bill  and Bruce. Bruce sits
            in driver-front seat.  Orange handheld stoplight in hand.
            Door open. Bill leans on car bonnet. Breathaliser in-hand. 

            The SOUND of wheels screeching.

                          (stands up hands - on - hips)
                       Here's one who looks really pissed.

            Bruce stands. Moves to wave handheld stoplight at oncoming
            car. Indicates it to stop. 

            Bill waiting at side of police car. Breathaliser in-hand.

            EXT. THE STOP. - NIGHT

            A white Holden Berlina stops as indicated by Bruce holding
            the orange stoplight. 

            Bill walks up to the drivers window. Taps on the closed
            window. Bends.  The window opens. Bill official.

                      Good evening, sir, just a routine
                          (beat, recognitive, surprised,
                      Oh, it's you Mr. Farmer.

                                BOB (O.S.)
                      'Allo Bill, 'ow are ya? Got ya membership

                          (beat, guilty looks towards
                      You screeched your tyres back there... 

                                BOB (O.S.)
                      Don't worry about that. Look, I've got
                      visitors, they're here to give us a six
                      million dollar contract. Get it? Nod-nod,

            Bill leans down further. Looks through the drivers open
            window at the occupants. Bruce moves to stands behind

                      Problem, Bill?

            Bill turning his face to Bruce, not sure what to do. 

                          (beat, looks inside again)
                       No, No problem, you can go, sir. 
                          (Stands, salutes)
                      Have a good night, sir.

            The Holden moves off ERRATICALLY. Bill and Bruce watch it go.

                      Mate of yours?

                      No, well, yes, he knows the Boss and they
                      both play golf at the Country Club. 
                          (guilty beat)
                      I've been trying to get membership there
                      for ages. 
                          (looks at Bruce, excusingly)
                      He's the secretary and knows my name! 
                          (grins, expectantly)

            Bruce shakes his head.  Disbelieving.  Walks  towards the
            parked police car. 

            Bill stands there totally NAKED.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      So that's how it was. And, Farmer was in

            INT. HOTEL ROOM-3-CONT'D. - NIGHT

            BACK TO:	Joe stops thinking. Enlightenment appearing.

                                GOD-LIKE VOICE (V.O.)
                      Joe, I said you musn't let them wallies
                      shit on you. The affirmation. It's a good
                      one. Write it down!

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      What a good affirmation. They've shit on
                      me, to all of us, for nearly three-years
                      now.  Totally destroyed our morale, our
                      enthusiasm our experience with their
                      sycophantic, incompetent, cock-sucking
                          (beat, with fervour)
                      I ....will ....NOT ....take ...SHIT
                      ...from ..a ...WALLY......EVER AGAIN!

            Joe nods. Gets intense.

                                GOD-LIKE VOICE (V.O.)
                      Thou shalt do unto others as they do unto

            Joe grins. Nods.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      I ...will ...GIVE ...wallies
                          (beat, then eager)
                      Must write that down.

            Joe sits up.

                                CARCOPHANY OF VOICES (V.O.)
                      No, don't write it down! Don't write it


            The SOUND of a heartbeat.


            A hotel restaurant. 

            PEOPLE eating at small tables. 

            YOUNG WAITRESS busy serving. 

            Joe, (50), sits at a table - for -three. PHIL  and  GREG2,
            both middle - management types,  sit with him. Casual attire.
            Preparing to eat.  

            Linda enters. Coat, jumper and slacks. Walks up to the table.
            Stands behind Joe.

                      You're eating here, then?

            Joe turns his head, smiles at her. She smiles back. The
            others smile at her.

                      We don't feel like going out. You go,
                      don't worry about us. What're you lot
                      going to do...

            Joe bends down to get something from the side of the table. 
            Linda thinks. Looking at Joe's bottom as he bends.

                                LINDA (V.O.)
                      Look at his tight butt! Fancy pulling him
                      into me with that!

            Joe sits back up. Places a can wrapped in brown paper bag on
            the table. Listens to the conversation. Looks sideways.
            Slyly. At Linda. Looks back. Joe commences to caress a bread
            roll in front of him.  Absent - minded. He imagines. HEARS
            her thoughts. 

            Linda not really listening to Greg2. Watches Joe's hand.

                                LINDA (cont'd) (V.O.)
                      Oh, imagine my breast in his hand,

                      ..where're you going to go?

            Joe  suddenly picks up the bread-roll. Licks it. Squeezes it
            to test it's newness. He sees Linda's breast. Instead of the

                                LINDA (V.O.)

                      ......the seafood restaurant is good...

            Linda's  face. Joe imagines what SHE SHOULD  be imagining.
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