EXT. WIDECOUNTRY HEADQUARTERS – DAWN
Rudy looks up at his new place of employment. The shimmering
structure rises straight up to the sky. Rudy spins around,
very excited, as he sees what he's been waiting for.
A brand new black 2006 Bentley sedan speeds up and parks in a
The personalized license plate reads: "OC SAMMY"
Rudy limps over as fast as he can and reaches WideCountry's
CEO and founder, SAMIR "SAMMY" PESSIAN (49), as he exits his
Bentley. He's dressed in a monogrammed button down lavender
shirt and black velvet loafers. With a sleek gray mane, he
could sell time-shares in Mexico or used cars in Long Beach.
He has two pinky rings and reeks of new money.
Sammy notices Rudy's limp and quickly steps by, so Rudy tries
hard to keep up with him.
You're being watched.
Rudy LAUGHS, then realizes he's serious, so he sticks out his
hand in greeting.
Mr. Pessian, good morning. I'm
your newest employee, Rudy Torrent.
Sammy LAUGHS then becomes very charming as they shake hands.
His accent is exotic, something between French and Arabic.
Look at you, all ready to go like a
fifteen year-old Siberian hooker on
her first night in Moscow.
You're in I.T., right?
Rudy lights up with Sammy's knowledge about him.
Sales is where the real money is.
But hey, we're gonna need a lot of
geeks to make my vision a reality.
Rudy isn't sure how to take this comment. Sammy continues
after an awkward beat, and points to Rudy's knee.
Old war wound?
Sammy LAUGHS as Rudy looks down at his leg, embarrassed.
Yes, my knee was blown off in Iraq.
Sammy shoots him an "I'm sorry" look, but Rudy takes it in
It'll be safer working here, right?
Rudy and Sammy share a LAUGH. Sammy likes him instantly.
As long as you're not popping pills
for that knee. We have a strict
policy against any controlled
No, of course not.
OK, so check in with me next week.
I'm curious how this work
environment compares to getting
your balls shot at in Iraq.
Sammy keeps a straight face, so Rudy isn't sure how to take
it. But then Sammy LAUGHS, so Rudy does, too.
I will, Mr. Pessian.
Sammy puts out his hand and they shake again.
Thank you, Sammy. I'm going to
work very hard for you.
I know. That's why we hired you.
Sammy enters the building, the master of his domain, and Rudy
takes it all in. He'd love to be him one day.
INT. WIDECOUNTRY HEADQUARTERS – LATER THAT MORNING
Rudy is escorted through the WideCountry lobby by the sharp
dressed Mitch from the interview. He comes on strong again.
I wrote code like you before
jumping to management.
You'll never have that option.
It's uncomfortable as Mitch sizes up Rudy with obvious
dislike. They enter a marbled elevator and remain silent the
entire ride up.
What do you think about that?
Uh, not much, I mean, sure.
Never take what I say lightly.
Rudy looks at Mitch and does exactly that as the elevator
stops on the 9th floor. They exit.
A sign reads: APPLICATIONS DEVELOPMENT
Mitch swipes his badge and opens the door to reveal...
PANDEMONIUM. The department covers the entire floor which is
the size of a football field.
There are DOZENS of programmers, many who wear headphones.
Workers are on phones as others point and SHOUT over shoulder
Rudy and Mitch continue in silence and reach his pod. It's a
12 foot wide, half-square "veal pen" with a workstation in
each of the two corners.
This is where we fatten you up
before the slaughter.
Rudy doesn't laugh. They're off to a very rough start.
Mitch introduces the other worker in the pen.
Ashish, meet our new lamb, Rudy
ASHISH (late 20s) is a mustached, shower shoe-wearing Indian.
He turns away from his monitor, silently nods at them, then
quickly resumes his work.
Let that be a lesson for how we
stay focused here at WideCountry.
Rudy tries to stay cool, so he sits down and looks at his new
Ashish, is a project manager.
Please help Rudy with his logins,
map his drives, the works.
But he needs logon.
I know, call tech.
Oh wait, you guys are tech!
Mitch LAUGHS really hard at this, so Ashish does as well,
though it's clear he didn't get the lame joke.
This is where I scoot.
Thank you, Mitch.
Rudy goes to shake Mitch's hand but he's already on the move.
Ashish scribbles on a Post-It and hands it to Rudy.
Use this password.
So, you're a project manager, huh?
Rudy waits for more, but there won't be anything coming.
Cool, so how long you been here?
Month. First job in America.
That was a tough interview, huh?
They grilled me.
Ashish doesn't understand English very well.
Yeah, uh, how'd you do on that
prime number puzzle?
No puzzle. I did phone interview
Mumbai, wow, and now you live here?
Yes, at hotel. Walk to work. It's
Ashish looks at his cheap watch and stands up, suddenly in a
Should I go?
But Ashish exits without answering. Rudy tries to take it in
stride, so he sticks the Post-It note on his monitor, cracks
his knuckles, and sits back in his chair.
Suddenly, a head from the next veal pen pops up. This is
CLIPPER (late 20s), another white programmer. He sports a
faux-hawk hairdo and neck tattoo.
Hey, Rudy. I'm Clipper. Overheard
Bitch, uh, I mean Mitch, introduce
you to Ashtray. Of course he
skipped me. Bitch, uh, I mean
Mitch, hates white guys, fyi.
At least he's a cheerful bitch, uh,
I mean Mitch.
They share a LAUGH and shake hands.
Come on, we can't miss the show.
Rudy grabs a pen and note pad and follows Clipper.
INT. WIDECOUNTRY CONFERENCE ROOM – MOMENTS LATER
Mitch mans a remote mouse and runs his weekly "Project Plan &
Status" meeting. A projector displays a spreadsheet with
assignments, milestones, and cryptic acronyms.
Go live for Phase Two is set for
six weeks from today if QA is ready
and UAT is complete.
Ashish stares at the notepad in front of him while others
thumb their Blackberries. They all turn as the door opens,
expecting to see Sammy...
But Rudy and Clipper enter and take seats at the round table
with everyone else. Mitch pounces on Rudy again.
Have you all met Rudy, our new web
The Group turns to Rudy, smiling pleasantly.
I'm not sure he knows what he's
doing here, but we need warm
Mitch LAUGHS, as do a few other kiss-asses. Rudy isn't sure
what to say, but he doesn't want to be branded like that.
Hi everyone. I know what I'm
doing. And if I don't, I'm not
afraid to ask questions.
Awkward silence fills the room. Clipper breaks the tension.
The room erupts in nervous chuckles. Clipper turns to Rudy
for a fist-bump. Rudy lightens up a bit, just as...
The conference room swings open and Sammy enters, the clear
Listen up, everyone. We're on
track to have our first billion
dollar quarter for "sub-prime"
loans...but I want more!
Everyone CHEERS, including Rudy, eager to follow their
Loan origination takes an average
of 28 days. That's a huge problem.
If we could cut it in half, we'd
double our volume.
Does anyone know why it takes so
Exactly, Mitch! Signing, faxing,
mailing, and pushing piles and
piles of paper is KILLING US!
And that's where you all come in.
Everyone is excited to be included.
Banks, title companies, realtors,
every chump in the biz relies on
paper docs...and that's our
The team looks to each other, very engaged.
Imagine a website where people can
apply for a home loan, process
their own mortgage, and get funded
with no hassles and no paperwork!
Sammy SLAMS HIS FIST on the conference table.
This is a game changer. A new
software platform and framework for
self-processing loans, with all
documents done digitally online!
Sammy circles the room, eye-balling each person.
I call it PEAK FRAMEWORK!
But what about the signatures?
Digital signatures are now legally
binding. So if we do it right, we
eliminate the notaries, appraisers,
title reps, and escrow assholes.
As soon as YOU create the software,
WE can capture their fees!
Sammy and I created a requirements
doc. To be first to market, we
must launch in six months.
The programmers look at each other, shaking their heads.
Wow, only six months! That's nearly impossible.
I know, I know. Six months is half
the time other shops would require.
But they don't have you...the
greatest technology team ever
assembled in the sub-prime space!
Sammy passes by Rudy and slyly drops an envelope in his lap.
I'm counting on every single person
in this room.
Sammy exits, so Rudy looks down at the envelope.
It reads: RUDY TORRENT