Brad lived in a country where apologies were avoided because they show a loss of face. As a public relations manager for a crooked politician, it was his job to face the media in the event of a scandal. He'd just returned from a press conference to find his boss eagerly awaiting him and sitting behind his desk. He stayed on his feet as the other opened up a new line of questioning. 'What did they want?' 'An apology.' 'Did you offer them one?' 'Of course not.' 'What did you tell them about the poker losses?' 'I said you'd owe them.' 'And what did you tell them about the crack pipe?' 'I said you found it.' 'And the hookers?' 'They looked like hitchhikers through the tinted glass of your limo.' 'And shooting my popular competitor?' 'You only meant to make good on your public promise to bury the competition.' 'And blowing up the packed football stadium?' 'Population control - for their own good.' 'But you didn't apologize?' 'No, sir!' 'Good job. Well, we'd better be leaving.' 'But I just got here.' 'I know, but this country is no longer ours. We all have twenty-four hours to vacate. Damn! That's the last time I bet on anything lower than a full house.' 'Are you sorry you made the bet?' 'No.' |
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© 2011. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved. |
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The Wrong and the Shameless
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