Woman: Okay, gang. Shut your traps.
Simmer down. Shh.
We have gathered you here for two reasons.
First, someone has written "Fran can suck my dong"
in the men's room.
I want a confession by 5 p.m.,
or you all have to work Columbus Day.
Yeah, Fran. We don't get Columbus Day off.
Oh. Then you'll have to work on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.
See how ya like that.
We don't get that off, either.
How about some of those Jewish ones in September?
Not even close. You left matzos in the kitchen,
and said, "Keep working, Jews."
People were pretty offended.
Well, you know what I mean. Either someone confesses by 5 p.m.,
- or something bad will happen. - [crowd booing]
Now, take your paychecks, you filthy animals.
[rock music]
Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com
- Hey, Doug. - [snorting]
- Ah. Hoo! - Doug.
- Yeah. - Uh, I think there's
a problem with my paycheck.
- What? - Yes, take a look.
Let me take a look here.
No, this looks okay to me.
Are you kidding? It was issued in pesos.
- Is that a problem? - Uh, yes.
A thousand pesos is like $54.
I don't know what to say.
We restructured the corporation as foreign owned,
so there it is.
Okay, first of all, we didn't go anywhere,
we're not in Mexico.
- That is correct. - So we don't use pesos here.
- It would be useless. - Right.
I'm gonna tell you what. If you have a problem with it,
you're gonna have to take it up with headquarters.
Fine. Let's call them right now.
Great. You will be speaking with Elena.
- She's the head of accounting. - Hello.
Hi, hi, I'm calling from the New York office
about a payroll issue.
- Uh, no habla ingles. - You don't speak English?
Okay, bye-bye.
- No, wait. - Bye-bye.
- [dial tone] - Come on!
- [snorting] - Doug.
What? What happened?
Did you not listen to that call?
I tuned out for a little bit of it.
She doesn't speak English.
Oh, well. I guess we'll just move on,
and everything will be fantastic.
This place is evil. How can they get away with this stuff?
I kind of like the peso idea.
- You like it? - Yeah, we're getting more money.
We're not. We're getting way less money.
Bud, you can't win with these people.
- Why do you get so worked up? - I'll tell you why, Myrtle.
My dad. He worked for a company like this for 30 years.
And you know what they did at his retirement party?
- No. - They laid him off.
With a tear rolling down his cheek, he said...
What about my pension?
And the boss went right up to my dad and he said...
I got your pension right here.
Then he unzipped his pants,
and he pissed on my father's retirement cake
until the candles went out.
And that wasn't it.
He slapped my father across the face,
- and said... - Who's a good little bitch baby?
And then he put his penis in my... in my father's hand.
- The boss did? - And he... yeah.
And he s... and he said, "Lead me around... around the room."
And he made my dad walk around the room on his knees
holding his penis.
Couldn't your dad have been, like, I don't want to do this?
He did. They had armed guards.
Does anyone else doubt the veracity of this winter's tale?
It happened. Look, guys, I don't know about you,
but I'm tired of bein' screwed.
It's corporate America runnin' amok.
Totally agree.
What does... What does amok mean?
I say we march upstairs and give Conrad Jones
a piece of our mind.
Let's go!
I can't be the only one who doesn't know what amok means, am I right?
Just help me with the word amok. I... I don't...
Look it up. On your phone.
Dee, we need to see Mr. Jones.
Okay, Bud, you cannot be up here.
I cannot commiserate at work.
- What? - Wow.
I am an executive "ecssistant" now,
not unlike Melanie Griffith in "Working Girl", so...
When did you start using words like commiserate?
When I got up here much higher than you on this high floor.
- Okay. - And we talk smart, okay?
We use big words like commiserate.
Do you even know what that means? Probably not.
- Regional... - Yes, I certainly do.
You, no... I'm sure you have no i...
- Arugula? - Yeah, it's salad.
We know what those words are.
- No, you do not. - They're very common.
Dee, just get us in for five minutes.
I cannot, because Mr. Jones has back to back meetings
- all day, sirs. - Clear my schedule, Dee.
I'm taking that new hot Asian intern out
for drinks and a handy. [chuckles] Just a joke.
- [door opens, closes] - Look, he makes me lie, okay?
And he makes me wear body glitter.
Dee, this meeting needs to happen.
All right, fine. Just talk to him in the bathroom,
and I will look the other way.
We need the bathroom key.
Okay, well, hold on. I'm looking the other way.
That's your stapler.
Okay, here. Are you happy now?
That's a copy of "Tiger Beat" from 1987.
- Oh, fine. Here. - That is a full chicken.
- That is a cooked full chicken, Dee. - Oh, my God, here.
- That's a rotisserie chicken. - Just go.
It's like paradise in here.
- It smells like jasmine. - Can I help you two?
This is the executive washroom.
Just want to talk briefly, sir, to air some grievances.
Oh, if it's grievances then step right in.
- Thank you, sir. - What are you doing?
Put your dick away.
- Stop! No! - Sir, this is ve... very unprofessional.
- Get out! - Lenny, make him stop.
[grunting] Stop slapping my penis!
Lenny: Stop pissing on my leg!
- Bud: Why is it orange? - You know, I'll come back.
Dee! Call security!
- Sir, no, God, stop. - Call secur... Ahh!
[groaning]
That's not good.
What? It is... What hap... what happened?
He peed his heart out.
Peed his heart out. That's a thing?
It... Yes. Look.
- [door opens] - [screaming]
Why is my boss laying in a pool of his own urine?
Call 9-1-1.
- No one's calling 9-1-1. - Why not?
Well, this does not look good for us.
I just gave a speech about revolution,
you gave us his private bathroom key...
- Oh, my God. - And Lenny's fingerprints
are up and down the shaft of the guy's penis.
Okay, can we not include that as part of the story?
I'm afraid we have to.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Just make up a story about you guys used to meet in bath...
Why am I wet, then?
You guys used to go to the bathhouse together and pee on each other,
- and that's why you both have pee... - No!
I walked out and it was raining. Okay?
Either you love the taste of male urine, or you killed a man.
- Fuck, I knew this was gonna... - A and B.
- A or B. - A-a-a-a-a...
- Okay, okay. - Let's go.
- There you go. - [footsteps approaching]
Bud, party's over, and everyone knows.
They know... what?
That you wrote the dong graffiti.
- Oh. - Now fess up
before Fran makes us work on Columbus Day.
- Look, it wasn't me. - Oh, really?
I never even say the word dong
unless I'm talkin' to Ted Dong from accounting.
- You need me, Bud? - No, Ted, we're good.
You think this is funny?
You think life is one big parade
because you got a full head of hair?
I don't even know how to respond to that.
Five years ago you coined the term "Comb over Charlie,"
and that nickname stuck.
There are four Charlies here.
Fat Charlie, Lebanese Charlie,
- Farty Charlie, and you. - [farts]
Without the nicknames, it'd be chaos.
- Bud, I don't know how... - What is happening?
- And I don't know where... - He keeps combing the same piece of hair.
And I don't know any other details,
but I am taking you down.
Was that a threat? I just felt so unthreatened.
Why did he have to comb between each s...
This is getting way too stressful!
Relax. No one knows we were there.
Have you never seen "CSI"?
We left a trail of urine footprints from his office to ours.
David Caruso would chuckle at this.
- Hey, maybe you're right. - And if it was a different show,
LL Cool J and the guy who played Robin
would be laughing in our faces.
I get it. You enjoy those shows.
Yeah. All right.
Let's sterilize everything we touched.
Floor, mirrors, nude torso, the penis.
Wait. Uh, Bud. Why aren't you cleaning?
A: It's gross. B: I'm the strategy guy.
I feel like nobody voted you the strategy guy.
It just happened. I had greatness thrust upon me.
- [knocking] - Man: Security.
We got a call about a disturbance.
What kind of disturbance?
Man: Someone heard the phrase, "Stop slapping my penis"
followed by some slapping sounds.
No, no, I'd remember that. Thanks for stopping by.
Man: It's okay, guys. I just need to do a quick sweep of the...
What the hell is happening here?!
- Okay, calm down. - [gun cocks]
Clarence, just put down the gun. Just put the gun down.
- Hey! Hey! - Bud: Hey, easy.
- All three of y'all back off. - Okay. Yeah, okay.
See, I'm not scared of y'all.
- Of course... - I repeat, not scared!
I've trained my whole life to discharge my weapon,
and I know what I'm doin', and... Oh. [farting]
Great, I crapped my pants.
- What, you... you shit yourself? - Oh, damnit.
- Just now. - Yes.
Oh, my God. Well, we should probably do something about that.
[grunting]
[gun fires]
Clarence: [grunts] Ooh. Hey!
[grunting]
Clarence, just give me the gun.
Okay, but promise not to tell anyone what just happened.
In the security biz, this is what's known as "a shoot and shit."
Oh, that's a nice... that's a nice phrase.
It's pretty much a career ender.
Okay, before we go any further,
we just... let's just say a prayer.
- That's a good idea. - Dear heavenly Lord,
please look after our beloved boss.
Sure, he belittled us with his racist,
and sometimes sexist and homophobic rants.
And sure, he requested blowjobs from 90 percent of the interns...
Yeah, you know what? Scrap the prayer. It's not working.
I gotta be honest, man, I'm glad he's dead.
This son of a bitch called me Mini Me.
[as Mr. Jones] Look at you, Clarence.
You're like a poor, fatter, little midget version of me.
Be a pal and wash my car, would ya?
Oh, be a pal and... and get my inflatable girl doll, would ya?
Clarence, you just gave me the idea of a lifetime.
Holy shit, we're not getting his inflatable girl doll, Bud.
- No, not that. - Right. Of course. I was kidding.
Lean in.
What if instead of reporting his death,
we take his body, we cut it in half,
we put it in two suitcases,
dispose of it in a remote location,
have Clarence undergo facial reconstructive surgery
to look exactly like him,
down to the eyebrows and the shape of his butt hole,
and seize control of the company?
Come on.
I kind of love that idea.
Does sound well thought out.
What the fuck is happening? Have you gone mad?
Lenny, in brainstorming sessions,
there is no such thing as a bad idea.
You know that. I think you owe Bud an apology.
- Are you serious? - Yeah, go.
I am sorry, Bud.
That did not feel sincere.
Okay, people. The situation has escalated.
Someone has created an elaborate woodcut
of me performing fellatio on a donkey.
- Woman: Oh, man. - Man: That's some schlong.
Now, since this occurred in the mail room,
we are now dealing with a federal offence.
- I don't think that's right. - What is she talking about?
That doesn't sound right at all.
I have paid the Post Master General a very handsome fee
to come in and explain the gravity
of this situation.
Um, this is kind of a waste of time for someone like me,
but I guess in theory, it could be considered a crime.
If you know who did it, shoot us an email.
If not, be sure to check out
our new line of commemorative stamps.
I should have hit that word faster.
It's stamps, I'm the Post Master, that's what we do.
You heard it. This is top priority.
If you have any leads, please see me in private.
I know who did it, Fran.
It was Bud.
Interesting theory, but what proof do you have?
Proof? Just that thick, lush head of hair.
The way he combs it and plays with it.
He... he can't be trusted.
At the post office, he's what we call a high-risk employee.
I want to know what happened to forever stamps?
Just to be clear, we never promised
we would make forever stamps forever.
We promised they would be good forever.
Okay, you don't have to scream.
- [tires squealing] - [horn honking]
Man: Watch it, jackass.
Hey, so, uh, what's in the trunk?
Uh, hi, sorry, we-we can't chat right now.
Aw, that's too bad, you know,
because I became a driver for two reasons.
- The flexible hours... - Great.
- And the non-stop chatting. - Just not right now!
But you don't... Not the partition!
You underst... I need to talk!
- [banging] - Please interact!
This can't be real life.
Pinch me right now because this can't be real.
I'm not gonna pinch you,
but I can tell you life is strange and this is happening.
Bud, do you have any idea how to dispose of a body?
- I have many ideas. - Please, tell me any.
Well, off the top of my head, bury him in the woods.
- No, we can't do that. - Set him on fire in a big pit.
Set him on fire in a big pit is what you said.
- Acid bath. - Bud.
- High temperature furnace. - Look at me.
Do any of these sound like us?
- You're right. - Thank you.
Let's just do this like civilized people,
- and dump him in the East River. - Oh, you're not even listening to me.
It's the East River.
Body dump capitol of the world.
- [baby cooing] - Oh, my goodness,
who's the best little guy?
Who's the best little guy? You are.
Bud, I don't think this is the body dump capitol anymore.
I can see why you might be worried,
but you're forgetting we got these masks.
All right, go team, okay, let's...
Excuse me. Our yoga class has this space reserved.
No problem, don't mind us, we'll be fast.
Is that a foot? Is that a body in there?
Oh, my God, Denise, get out your cell. Alert the authorities.
- Denise. No. - Go. Get your phone out, Denise.
- Denise, don't. - Call the authorities.
- Not a body. - Help! Someone help us!
- It's a fake body. - Help us!
- Bud, we have to go. - You're right. Let's pack it up.
- Thank you. - But first...
You people are ruining the city.
- Bud... - In the New York I know,
you could dump a body and no one cared.
We loved hearing the splash of dead bodies goin' in the river.
- Okay, Bud, let's go. - Back in my day,
you could get a hand job in Port Authority,
and people would clap.
Freakin' Giuliani. Ruined everything.
Woman: If you're like most people,
you look in the mirror and say,
"Oh, my God, what a disgusting face."
"What kind of a nose is that?"
"Is that a chin, or did someone just barf all over my face?"
Dee, I'm not sure I thought this through.
You are just nervous.
The doctor is gonna come in here and put you at ease.
Ah, sweet, sweet Clarence.
I can't wait to get you under the knife, baby.
That is not helping.
I understand we're doing a little look alike job.
What's the goal here, guys?
Are we doing a celebrity impersonation thing?
You a gay stalker?
You know, just go ahead and put down gay stalker.
Okay. Gay stalker. Interesting.
Now listen, if you've got moral issues or something,
we can go elsewhere.
[scoffs] Moral issues? No.
I just gave a 12 year old girl double D cup tits
so she could look good at her Bat Mitzvah.
I'm so proud of my girl. My big boobied girl.
My main concern, I'll be honest,
is whether or not you guys can pay.
Well, that's easy. We have the corporate card.
Cha-ching. All right, well, as we say in the biz,
let's start slicing up your face and see what happens.
♪♪
- That did not go well. - Bud, listen to me.
We're in way over our heads.
Gentlemen, gentlemen, I just want to apologize for before. I...
- Both: That's fine. - No, no,
that was excessive chatting, I'm really sorry.
- Bud: Fantastic. - And look at this.
I have a sign here, it says "chat-free zone."
My daughter did the artwork.
I don't know if you've heard of her,
- she's terrific, look at this... - Do it, do it, do it.
No, no, please. Look at my daughter!
Can you get her a job? We need a second income.
- Bud. - Yes?
We need to pull the plug on this.
Let's just think. What would Conrad Jones do in this situation?
Fine. What would he do?
[sighs] He'd point at a random girl's tits,
- and say, "Those need my jizz." - That's not gonna happen.
He'd order Chinese food and call it chinga-chong-chang.
Stop saying racist things.
He would pull his scrotum out of his zipper,
and say, "Hey, I sat in some gum."
What would he do now, though, if he had a body in the back,
what would he do right now?
- He would delegate the work. - Exactly.
- He wouldn't do it. - We need to delegate.
We've got his contact list.
- And he knows everyone. - Perfect, come on, let's go.
Whoa. Gayle King?
That was a whoa? You went whoa for Gayle King?
- Lionel Richie. Hey. - What the fuck is he gonna do?
Ernie Anastos?
We need someone that has mob connections.
Name someone in there that could dispose of a body.
[gasping]
This can't be the reason you just gasped.
Ray Liotta. Pleasure to meet you.
Thanks for taking the meeting, Ray.
We work with Conrad, and he had a small favor to ask.
Okay, well, I owe him.
Okay. Uh, a situation has developed,
And he... We and he, uh...
We have to find a place to dispose of a corpse
where no one will find it.
What did you just say?
- He didn't say anything. - A body.
- Our bad. - A body. A dead body.
So... [nervous laugh]
I'm sorry if we wasted your time.
This is obviously a funny joke.
- I love the idea. I'm in. - I'm sorry, you're in?
Do you have any idea how to do something like this?
What am I, a clown to you?
- Am I funny? - No.
Okay, the way I see this job,
we pour him two concrete shoes,
drive him out to Jersey, and before you can say "take the cannolis,"
he'll be swimmin' with the fishes.
- Fugeddaboutit. - Awesome.
What the fuck was that?
That was a bunch of bullshit.
Hey, is this wiseguy questioning the plan?
Sounded authentic to me, Ray. Welcome to the team.
Dee: Excuse me, doctor.
- Hey-oh. - Do you take requests during surgery?
Of course. Come on in here, you.
Thank you. Um, so, Mr. Jones had some
distinguishing marks on his body
I think we should replicate, you know,
for authenticity to be more real.
That is what authenticity is.
All right, what type of marks are we talkin'?
Okay, well, he had a huge tattoo of Diana Ross on his back.
Ah. True diva.
Multiple scars on, like, his inner thighs.
Interesting placement.
Then I noticed this morning his actual penis
was surprisingly small.
In car terms, are we talkin' mid-size, compact, or economy?
- Mid-size. - So what you're telling me is
he has the Hyundai Sonata of penises.
That is how I was going to put it, but I didn't think you'd get it.
[laughing]
We've got a real connection here, huh?
Yeah, we do. Like, vibing.
We are definitely vibing hard.
- Do you want to assist? - Sure.
Nurse, step aside.
Members of the board, you know me as Charles.
I spent the day rifling through everyone's garbage,
and found some shocking information.
Allow me to begin a slide show entitled,
"Who Keeps Drawing Graffiti of Fran Sucking Dongs
"both human and beast?"
- That is really well done. - Okay, let's get on with it.
Okay. Observe the letter D from dong in this graffiti sample,
and compare it to Bud's W9 form.
The Ds are quite similar.
- Hm, look at that. - Very similar.
Now, observe this smiley face Bud drew on a birthday card,
and compare it to this image
where Fran is about to deep throat a donkey.
Okay, I think that's all the proof that we need.
I have 40 more slides if you'd like to see them.
- Man: Oh, please. - Fran: No, no, no, that...
- I want to be convinced. - That won't be necessary.
- Let him convince us. - I'm sorry.
Post Master General, why are you still here?
I'm the Post Master General.
I have the power to enter any building in the state of New York.
Yeah, I don't think that's accurate.
Let me just say you invited me here.
Right, but I thought you were gonna be gone, like, a while ago.
So, the bill comes to 180 grand.
And since you guys are such good customers,
I threw in the wiener reduction for free.
I know, I'm great.
- Aww. - Come again?
The wiener reduction. Dee gave the green light.
Uh, I'm not following. What-what is...
Exactly what is a wiener reduction?
Oh, sorry. You're not in the medical profession.
So, technically, what I did was
I stretched out your wiener, and I cut out the middle.
- W-well... - Yeah, just like 10 to 15 percent, though.
Wait, you made my penis shorter without asking?
Yeah, but just by taking out the middle,
which is basically an irrelevant part of the penis.
When's the last time you were like,
"Hey, put your mouth on the middle of my penis"?
Okay. Seems like something
you might want to sign a waiver for.
Clarence, don't be mad, okay?
We wanted this to work, you know?
It's gotta be authentic.
You know what? I knew this was a bad idea.
Tell Bud I'm out.
Wait, no, no, you can't quit now, Clarence.
Some of us have morals, Dee.
I didn't mind disfiguring my face,
or living a lie for the rest of my life,
or covering up a murder,
but I draw the line at making my dick 10 to 15 percent shorter.
- I feel like he's upset. - That was so dramatic.
"In a large mortar tub, mix concrete powder with water
"using a standard garden hoe..."
What the fuck does this mean?
Bud, he has no idea what he's doing.
Give him time. He's figuring it out.
Ray: Hi, Home Depot customer service.
Yeah, can you walk me through this concrete mix preparation?
Yes, this is Ray Liotta. Yes, I can hold.
- Oh. - Bud, he's jeopardizing the whole job.
I didn't see that coming at all.
- We only have one choice now. - I agree.
- We have to turn ourselves in... - Whack Ray Liotta.
- What did you say? - Kill him.
- No. - Yeah.
- No. - We have to kill him.
I'm not killing the guy from "Goodfellas,"
and other movies very similar to "Goodfellas," okay?
Lenny, we're on a mission here, now come on.
Do it for the American worker.
Do it for my father who had to hold his boss' penis
at his own retirement party.
- Remember the story? - Of course, I remember the story.
- I am in. - Never forget.
Okay, I'm on hold with the garden department,
but I need to speak to someone in building supplies.
I love you in "Operation Dumbo Drop"!
Ahh!
What the hell was that? I was joking.
- You told me to do it. - He's a movie star.
- What kind of joke is that? - Run. Run. Just run.
[water splashing]
- Bud: We did it! - Lenny: We sure did.
- Ha ha! - ♪ Two best friends doin' it up ♪
- ♪ Killin' Liotta ♪ - Woo!
Okay, I hate to rain on this parade that you're having,
but I've got some bad news. Clarence bailed.
- Bailed? - Yeah.
What does that mean, Clarence bailed?
I got power hungry, and I green lit a wiener reduction.
What does that mean?
The whole plan revolves around him.
We just dumped our boss in the river.
- I know. - And whacked Ray Liotta.
- We are all goin' to jail. - We are all goin' to hell.
Hey, everyone. Get a grip.
No one's going anywhere.
We're still the only ones who know what happened.
- That's true. - We can go on to marvelous lives.
- Eating lunch salads... - Yeah.
- And having families. - Yeah.
I'm looking forward to the rest of my life.
- [cell phone rings] - Uh-oh.
Hi, Fran. Sorry, I took a long lunch.
I need to see you in my office, Bud.
I know everything.
Fran, what are you being so coy,
- what is every... - [beep]
Hello?
- Fuck! - Goddamnit.
Bud, I had to give you that stupid key.
Every time I get close to getting out,
they pull me back in. Forget about it!
Do I look like a clown to you?!
Did you absorb Ray Liotta when you killed him?
[sobbing] I don't know anymore.
- [baby crying] - Boy: What's a wiener reduction?
I don't understand what's going on.
Everybody relax. Babe, what is happening?
Daddy did a terrible thing today.
The CEO died and someone convinced me to get plastic surgery,
and pretend I'm him.
The plan was for me to take his job,
and move in with his 22 year old trophy wife from Ohio State.
I was blinded by power and money.
- I'm sorry. - [thud]
Wait, wait, wait. Pause.
They were gonna pay you more money?
Yeah, like $10 million.
How did you leave that part out?
All you talkin' about is
the shortening of your dick and the 22 year old thing.
Honey, you can't put a price on your husband.
Babe, listen.
You're a security guard who sits on the couch all weekend
drinking vodka tonics and eating Cool Ranch Doritos.
- I don't eat that many Doritos. - You do. It's gross.
And that loses to 10 mil every time, baby.
- Mm-hm. - But we're...
Aren't we a family?
- Do you love your family? - I love my family.
Get your stuff, pack it up,
go move into that house.
We're all makin' sacrifices here.
♪♪
[door opens]
Okay, why are you all in here? I need to speak to Bud.
Yeah, she needs to speak to Bud.
Fran, listen. We were all involved.
We should go down as a group.
I'm not technically part of the group,
but I feel pretty invested at this point.
- Who is this person? - I'll leave.
I'm confused. It took four of you to pull this off?
- It's harder than it looks. - Yeah, and for the record,
we didn't kill him, we just disposed of the body.
- That's true. - What are you talking about?
Mr. Jones. We didn't murder him.
Uh, I know he isn't murdered,
because I just saw him run into his office five minutes ago.
[door opens]
Uh, excuse me, sir.
Franny Fran Fran.
Oh, boy.
Uh, what happened to your face?
Sir, is everything okay?
Hey, Fran, did anybody ever tell you that you keep it tight?
- I'm not sure what that means, exactly. - Well, no, Fran, you keep it together.
You know what I'm sayin'? You got everything
in the right place at the right time, you know what I'm talkin' about?
- I appreciate the compliments... - Thank you.
But I do just have a couple of things I'd like to go over.
- Go ahead, Fran. - Charlie here found out
that it was Bud who wrote the dong graffiti,
- so we would like to terminate Bud... - Fran,
everyone knows the security guard writes that graffiti at night
while he's taking a dump.
- Okay. - It's common knowledge.
Good to know, sir.
Bud stays, and get this idiot out of my office.
Idiot. You, out, now.
- Anything else, Fran? - Yes, sir, a few things.
Um, the Mexican headquarters has been ransacked by gangs,
Clarence the security guard has gone missing,
and Golden Globe nominee Ray Liotta
is stumbling through the lobby dripping wet
demanding to speak to you.
Umm...
I'm here to see Conrad Jones.
What am I, a clown to him?
[rock music]
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