“Jenkins!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Do you have the poster for the second night at the Hollywood Bowl?”
“I do, sir.”
“Oh, goody. Let’s see itJESUS, MY EYES!”
“There’s a lot going on.”
“It’s like a bar brawl raped a box of crayons.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad.”
“Mrs. Woods! Mrs. Woods! Come in here and look at this poster!”
“Yes, sir. This poster? It’s rather–”
THLUMP
“See!? She’s dead Are you happy, Jenkins?”
“That could have been a coincidence.”
“Send in an intern!”
“Yes, sir? Can I help you OH IT’S IN MY HEAD MOMMYMOMMY–”
THLUMP
“How many of your colleagues does the poster have to murder, Jenkins?”
“I get it, sir.”
“It’s like staring into Satan’s asshole.”
“I don’t know about that, sir.”
“Unwashed! Dirty devil ass, Jenkins. That’s what we have here.”
“It’s too late to have a new one made.”
“The Hollywood Bowl is on the side of the Hills facing away from the sign. Ugly AND wrong. Is that why you like it, Jenkins? Makes you think of your family?”
“There’s no need for insults, sir.”
“No insult. Just fact: everyone you’re related to has a face like a foot.”
“Sir, we’re off the point.”
…
“Poster!”
“Poster, sir.”
“Dreadful thing. Like watching a rainbow masturbate to Riefenstahl films.”
“Wildly over-the-top, sir.”
“Most people only know her from the Nazi stuff, but the woman had a way with light comedy. Have you even seen Wessen Strudel Ist Das?”
“I haven’t, sir.”
“Delightful. Starred Uli Knoblauch, the Weimar Republic’s Clark Gable. He was later executed for war crimes, but the man could wear the scheiße out of a tux.”
“Please let’s discuss anything other than Nazi cinema, sir.”
“Do you think Pinochet played pinochle?”
“The poster, sir.”
…
“Poster!”
“Yes, sir. Can we release it?”
“Release it? Hell, kick it out! 86 it!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Jenkins, there are shovels in the closet.”
“I’m not helping you bury Mrs. Woods and the intern, sir.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Good.”
“You’re doing it by yourself.”
“Yes, sir.”
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