EXT: GOOGLE BLOG HEADQUARTERS - DAY
It's a huge glass building in downtown Chicago. The snow is driving hard. Chicago doesn't seem to mind.
INT: EDITORS OFFICE - DAY
THE EDITOR flexes his muscles and reminds himself he's tough and worthy. THE MANAGER breaths deeply but silently, keeping it together. He's been here before. Of course he has. This is the job.
GOODLY, THE PERFORMANCE BLOGGER, sits in an absurdly small chair, not sure why he's been called in. He twirls a giant ring of keys and stares at a spot on the rug.
MANAGER: Look, Goodly, I want this thing to sing and soar just like you do. Same team. I'm on your side.
EDITOR: Not me! I pit myself against the author. I beleive my job is to act as an antagonist force. I only care about looking good and tending to my endless unpleasability!It's a huge glass building in downtown Chicago. The snow is driving hard. Chicago doesn't seem to mind.
INT: EDITORS OFFICE - DAY
THE EDITOR flexes his muscles and reminds himself he's tough and worthy. THE MANAGER breaths deeply but silently, keeping it together. He's been here before. Of course he has. This is the job.
GOODLY, THE PERFORMANCE BLOGGER, sits in an absurdly small chair, not sure why he's been called in. He twirls a giant ring of keys and stares at a spot on the rug.
MANAGER: Look, Goodly, I want this thing to sing and soar just like you do. Same team. I'm on your side.
The Manager blinks slowly, an old self-maintenance trick he learned at the dojo. He turns to Editor and smiles as he empties a pocket full of cigarettes, chew and snuff on the desk.
MANAGER: Easy there, Champ. Here, have some tobacco products.
The Editor stuffs his mouth with the products, suddenly a big dumb child.
EDITOR: My muv mabacco! Chomp chomp!
The manager sighs and looks out the window. Chicago is buried under six feet of snow. August didn't used to be this way.
MANAGER: Look, Goodly, we've got a real issue here. Your name came up at the Google Blogger Board the other day.
GOODLY: The Google Blogger Board.
MANAGER: The Bloogles. That's what they call themselves.
GOODLY: Any adults working over there in the name department?
MANAGER: No, and that's not the point. There've been... complaints.
GOODLY: Complaints? What kind of complaints? I'm invisable. I write a free blog for nobody on a second rate forgotten platform.
GOODLY: Any adults working over there in the name department?
MANAGER: No, and that's not the point. There've been... complaints.
GOODLY: Complaints? What kind of complaints? I'm invisable. I write a free blog for nobody on a second rate forgotten platform.
EDITOR: Hey! I work for this company! I demand respect! I demand it! Give it. GIVE IT TO ME!
Awakward beat.
EDITOR: I was top of my class in school!
MANAGER: Say, Champ, I really do appreciate you letting us use your office while mine's being renovated.
EDITOR: Oh, it's no problem. I have a sense of belonging now.
MANAGER: Yeah, hey! Why don't you run down the hall, grab us all a cup of coffee? Okay?
Manager slides a couple of bills out of a neat leather billfold and hands them to Editor.
EDITOR: I like coffee! And tasks!
He's out the door in flash, the nicotine pumping through his system, the anticipation of more stimulants almost a taste in his mouth.
As the door closes, Manager relaxes his shoulders and loosens up.
MANAGER: Now, look. I know what you're going for, okay? It's the post-everything era and you gotta make an impression, if for nobody else, for yourself. Font tricks, wordy bits, format stuff, I get it. But the blog is a show is a blog is show thing...It's a blog, okay?
Awakward beat.
EDITOR: I was top of my class in school!
MANAGER: Say, Champ, I really do appreciate you letting us use your office while mine's being renovated.
EDITOR: Oh, it's no problem. I have a sense of belonging now.
MANAGER: Yeah, hey! Why don't you run down the hall, grab us all a cup of coffee? Okay?
Manager slides a couple of bills out of a neat leather billfold and hands them to Editor.
EDITOR: I like coffee! And tasks!
He's out the door in flash, the nicotine pumping through his system, the anticipation of more stimulants almost a taste in his mouth.
As the door closes, Manager relaxes his shoulders and loosens up.
MANAGER: Now, look. I know what you're going for, okay? It's the post-everything era and you gotta make an impression, if for nobody else, for yourself. Font tricks, wordy bits, format stuff, I get it. But the blog is a show is a blog is show thing...It's a blog, okay?
GOODLY: Well, it's show but it's a blog that could be a--
MANAGER: Goodly, whatever! Okay? Whatever it is, it has to have some sort of ordering priniciple, some sort of identifiable something. It has to have...
GOODLY: Don't.
MANAGER: It needs...
GOODLY: Don't you say it.
MANAGER: There's no other word for it. The Bloogles say it lacks structure-
MANAGER: Goodly, whatever! Okay? Whatever it is, it has to have some sort of ordering priniciple, some sort of identifiable something. It has to have...
GOODLY: Don't.
MANAGER: It needs...
GOODLY: Don't you say it.
MANAGER: There's no other word for it. The Bloogles say it lacks structure-
GOODLY: You said it! You said the word! (Fists to the heavens.) STRUCTUUUURE!
Goodly falls to his knees and gyrates as if he's in a war movie where we care about the guy who just got shot. Manager waits it out.
MANAGER: You all done?
Goodly falls to his knees and gyrates as if he's in a war movie where we care about the guy who just got shot. Manager waits it out.
MANAGER: You all done?
Goodly gets off the floor and dusts off his overalls, sitting back in the tiny chair.
GOODLY: Okay. I'll admit that maybe things are a little chaotic over at the blog-
MANAGER: A little chaotic? Goodly, one of the ladies on the board read the entry about kittens-
GOODLY: One of my favorites.
MANAGER: Hers too. But a click and a scroll later and she's getting told to go fuck herself.
GOODLY: Well, not her specifically.
MANAGER: Yes, her specifically! You wrote "Anyone on the Google Board who thinks this blog is unstructured can go fuck him or herself."
GOODLY: Well, at least I didn't misgender anybody! Over at the Party Time Happy Blog they constantly use "he" when they mean they!
MANAGER: They who?
GOODLY: What?
MANAGER: You said "they" constantly use "he" when "they" mean "they." Who's "they?"
GOODLY: They! Them, the guys who write the blog.
MANAGER: It's a woman, Goodly. One woman. A "she."
GOODLY: Well, I didn't know that so I used they!
MANAGER: Okay, this is what I'm talking about. You can't just vomit into the blog anymore. People are watching. They're paying attention. Like you asked them to.
GOODLY: No I didn't! I don't want attention YES I DO - No I Don't YES I DO nO I dO!
Goodly's back on the floor rolling around, hugging himself. Manager rubs his temples and takes a deep breath. Focus. The job. The job.
MANAGER: Okay, look. Relax. Just, take a breath. I have a simple suggestion-
MANAGER: A little chaotic? Goodly, one of the ladies on the board read the entry about kittens-
GOODLY: One of my favorites.
MANAGER: Hers too. But a click and a scroll later and she's getting told to go fuck herself.
GOODLY: Well, not her specifically.
MANAGER: Yes, her specifically! You wrote "Anyone on the Google Board who thinks this blog is unstructured can go fuck him or herself."
GOODLY: Well, at least I didn't misgender anybody! Over at the Party Time Happy Blog they constantly use "he" when they mean they!
MANAGER: They who?
GOODLY: What?
MANAGER: You said "they" constantly use "he" when "they" mean "they." Who's "they?"
GOODLY: They! Them, the guys who write the blog.
MANAGER: It's a woman, Goodly. One woman. A "she."
GOODLY: Well, I didn't know that so I used they!
MANAGER: Okay, this is what I'm talking about. You can't just vomit into the blog anymore. People are watching. They're paying attention. Like you asked them to.
GOODLY: No I didn't! I don't want attention YES I DO - No I Don't YES I DO nO I dO!
Goodly's back on the floor rolling around, hugging himself. Manager rubs his temples and takes a deep breath. Focus. The job. The job.
MANAGER: Okay, look. Relax. Just, take a breath. I have a simple suggestion-
GOODLY: NO! No Notes NO SUGGESTIONS! I'm a first-draft genius! I require no improvement!
MANAGER: Just, hear me out.
Goodly's too out of breath to argue.
MANAGER: What if, just to give people a sense of direction, you added...a Table O' Contents.
GOODLY: A Table O' Contents! Buddy, it's a BLOG, not a BOOK.
MANAGER: And it would be a BOOK already had you listened to me and followed through with the plan from fucking 2005!
GOODLY: Don't book shame me! I'm the victim here! It was a pandemic! I had to move! I wore a mask for two years staight! My face smells like cheese! There was a girl! I ran out of money! I got distracted! I'm sick! I'm depressed! I'm sick of being depressed! I don't have any ideas! I had a crazy day job! I have too many ideas! I don't know who I am! The girl left! I got hurt! I got behind! I got cats! I'm not in control of anything and I don't have anything to say! A friend gave me the greatest couch in the world and I'd get on there with the cats and the dog and the remote control and a little dinner and I'd watch Tiger King and then I'd fall asleep and then I'd wake up and watch some more!
MANAGER: Okay-
GOODLY: I watched the whole thing twelve times!
MANAGER: Okay!
GOODLY: I went to Tiger Town, man! Do you understand? I was wearing a mask in the house and I went to TIGER TOWN!
MANAGER: Are you done!
Beat.
GOODLY: No.
MANAGER: Listen, a quick table o' contents. Just order the first six or ten bits and see how it feels. It might actually help you, answer some questions.
GOODLY: I already answered questions in that What The F'n D part.
MANAGER: No you didn't and they're asking for a table o' contents.
MANAGER: Just, hear me out.
Goodly's too out of breath to argue.
MANAGER: What if, just to give people a sense of direction, you added...a Table O' Contents.
GOODLY: A Table O' Contents! Buddy, it's a BLOG, not a BOOK.
MANAGER: And it would be a BOOK already had you listened to me and followed through with the plan from fucking 2005!
GOODLY: Don't book shame me! I'm the victim here! It was a pandemic! I had to move! I wore a mask for two years staight! My face smells like cheese! There was a girl! I ran out of money! I got distracted! I'm sick! I'm depressed! I'm sick of being depressed! I don't have any ideas! I had a crazy day job! I have too many ideas! I don't know who I am! The girl left! I got hurt! I got behind! I got cats! I'm not in control of anything and I don't have anything to say! A friend gave me the greatest couch in the world and I'd get on there with the cats and the dog and the remote control and a little dinner and I'd watch Tiger King and then I'd fall asleep and then I'd wake up and watch some more!
MANAGER: Okay-
GOODLY: I watched the whole thing twelve times!
MANAGER: Okay!
GOODLY: I went to Tiger Town, man! Do you understand? I was wearing a mask in the house and I went to TIGER TOWN!
MANAGER: Are you done!
Beat.
GOODLY: No.
MANAGER: Listen, a quick table o' contents. Just order the first six or ten bits and see how it feels. It might actually help you, answer some questions.
GOODLY: I already answered questions in that What The F'n D part.
MANAGER: No you didn't and they're asking for a table o' contents.
GOODLY: I don't want to do it.
MANAGER: Okay, well you've forced my hand.
GOODLY: I didn't touch your hand!
MANAGER: If The Bloogles don't see some attempt at navigation... they'll sell your blog to a Chinese blog factory and somebody else will write it.
GOODLY: What the-! How can-! Who says-! I'm supposed to-!
MANAGER: Okay, well you've forced my hand.
GOODLY: I didn't touch your hand!
MANAGER: If The Bloogles don't see some attempt at navigation... they'll sell your blog to a Chinese blog factory and somebody else will write it.
GOODLY: What the-! How can-! Who says-! I'm supposed to-!
The Manager pulls up the terms of service but Goodly doesn't have to look. He knows what it says. He knew what he signed on for as soon as he posted the first entry. Broken and white, Goodly slumps in his chair and makes a pouty face on purpose.
MANAGER: They want it now. Today. And that's a personal favor to me from them. They wanted to ship you out yesterday, right after Crazy Visual Word Salad.
GOODLY: The salad part was implied, you know.
MANAGER: You've got 24 hours.
Only now does Goodly fully grasp the severity of the situation.
GOODLY: I suppose I should be grateful to you. For saving my blog.
MANAGER: What can I say? I lost a bet.
GOODLY: I wish you wouldn't put it that way.
MANAGER: Yeah, well. Never race for papers, right? Okay, get out of here before ding dong comes back and starts remembering things.
Goodly gets up and looks at the door, hesitant.
MANAGER: Take the back way. Tell the guard downstairs to call me for authorization.
Manager goes to a keypad in the wall and taps in a code. A panel slides back, revealing a small elevator.
GOODLY: Thanks, Daymon.
MANAGER: Is that my name?
GOODLY: I...I haven't decided yet.
MANAGER: Of course you haven't.
GOODLY: It could be something else-.
MANAGER: Just...do the table o' contents.
Goodly steps into the elevator. The door closes and the panel slides back, obscuring the exit. Manager walks over and looks out at a rising yet freezing Lake Michigan.
MANAGER: How did I ever get mixed up in this business.
But he knows exactly how he got mixed up in this business.
Manager turns, sits down at the Editor's desk and begins tearing through the drawers, taking everything valuable he can find.
BLACKOUT!