Resolutions, Inc. - R.A.'s entry

INT. OFFICE BULLPEN - NIGHT

Half-height cube walls provide minimal privacy and noise dampening between seat after seat of headset-wearing drones dressed all in white. Except, they're not drones. They all have angel's wings. MICHAEL shows CLARENCE the operation.

MICHAEL

That's some nice work you did last Christmas, Clarence, really. We were all very proud to see you finally get your wings.

CLARENCE

Thank you, sir. I've always wanted to help people. I'm glad I'll finally be getting my chance.

MICHAEL

Oh.

(Beat)

What do you know about our division?

CLARENCE

St. Peter said he thought this would be a good place for me to start out, to get my toes wet.

MICHAEL

You know that the Big Boss works in mysterious ways, right Clarence?

CLARENCE

Of course, of course.

MICHAEL

His plan is ineffable.

CLARENCE

Yes, yes.

MICHAEL

Unfathomable.

CLARENCE

Michael, dear boy, what are you trying to tell me?

MICHAEL

What we do here at Resolutions, Inc. is a little...different. Did you ever make a New Year's resolution when you were mortal?

CLARENCE

Oh yes! Every year I vowed I would take a little of this

(indicates ample waist)

off by taking regular constitutionals and eating less of my dear Martha's food. But her cookery was so good, that by two weeks into the year my resolve was lost.

MICHAEL

And that's what we do here.

CLARENCE

Help people stick with their resolutions?

MICHAEL

Cause people to break them.

Michael points to a computer in front of one of the angels. Pictures of foamy mugs of beer, frosty margaritas, and double scotches fill the monitor. ESTELLA, all blond ringlets and cherubic face slides a mouse on the desktop and speaks into her headset.

ESTELLA

(Whispering)

Just one little drink wouldn't hurt. Two long days without a drop...a little pick-me-up...it'd be like a reward for doing so well...

Clarence blanches and backs away.

CLARENCE

Michael! This is terrible!

MICHAEL

Now Clarence, I told you, it's all in the Big Boss's plan. Come with me. Let me introduce you to the angel who'll be training you.

Michael leads Clarence past more angels at their desks. We catch glimpses of their monitors: devilish desserts and scantily clad women and men dominate. Michael stops behind a bald male angel energetically talking into his headset. His monitor displays a hammock swinging between two trees.

MALE ANGEL

(Whispering)

The gym will be there tomorrow, but this sunny afternoon won't last forever. Make some lemonade, have some cookies, take a nap.

The angel clicks his mouse and the monitor changes to show loaves of bread baking in an oven.

MALE ANGEL (CONT'D)

(Whispering)

It's homemade. One slice won't hurt. They're whole grain carbs.

The angel clicks again and the monitor shows a football game.

MALE ANGEL (CONT'D)

(Whispering)

It's the playoffs! Your wife will understand. The game's just too important to miss. You can clean the gutters tomorrow.

CLARENCE

I say my good man! How can you do this? Have you no heart?

The angel faces Clarence...

MICHAEL

Clarence, this is our top performer. Job, meet Clarence.

JOB

Pleasure. So you're the new fellow, eh? Nice work on your wing assignment. Shame what happened when the regulators showed up the next day.

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