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turning to page one
turning to page one
The frame is filled with the face of PETER SULLIVAN, a 27- year-old risk assessment analyst. He has a Doctorate from MIT and is staring intently into a large bank of computer screens.
An elevator door opens and FOUR HUMAN RESOURCES PEOPLE come out of the elevator carrying large file boxes. They walk down a long glass enclosed hallway that runs the full length of the trading floor. The scope of the floor now comes into frame. There are more computers than can be imagined and several large boards on the far walls that are scrolling thousands of numbers. PETER gives a knowing glance to the guy sitting next to him, SETH BREGMAN, a young analyst in his early twenties.
SETH
Is that them?
PETER
(nods yes)
SETH
Jesus Christ.
The HUMAN RESOURCES people turn and separate into a large glass walled conference room that runs along the floor as almost every person on the floor watches.
SETH (cont’d)
Are they going to do it right there?
PETER
Yeah.
SETH
Fuck me.
WILL EMERSON, sitting next to them, leans back in his chair.
WILL EMERSON
(whispered)
Have you guys ever seen this before?
SETH
No.
WILL EMERSON
Best to just ignore it. Keep your head
down and get back to work... and don’t
watch.
The HR people begin walking out onto the floor looking at a piece of paper in their hand then walking up behind a person and asking their name. It is brutal. The camera follows one HR woman, HEATHER, with her piece of paper down the hall and
HEATHER
Timothy Singh?
TIMOTHY
Yes.
HEATHER
I’m afraid we have to speak with you.
TIM gets up and walks back towards the conference room with the woman. PETER puts on his headphones and very loud RAP MUSIC drowns out all other noise and PETER tries to get lost back into the numbers on his computer screen.
The sequence follows the HR people walking around and firing people intercut with PETER just staring at his computer screen. It runs for almost the length of the song until finally the same woman comes walking back down the hall and stops behind PETER and taps him on the shoulder. He takes off his headphones and the MUSIC STOPS. He is shell-shocked.
HEATHER (cont’d)
Eric Dale?
PETER
Excuse me?
HEATHER
Eric Dale?
PETER
No.
HEATHER
Sorry?
PETER
I’m not Eric Dale.
HEATHER
Oh. I’m so sorry.
PETER
He’s my boss, he’s down that hall.