I know he can get the job, but can he do the job?

Wherein I link to the wav file of the title


At work less than an hour and already Pooh is using company time for personal business. Working that clock like an office professional.

Here's a quote from one of the greatest movies, ever(seriously): Joe Vs, the Volcano. Found the script through a link at a JVTV fan wank site.

WATURI: (on phone) No. No. You were wrong. He was wrong. Who said that? I didn't say that. If I had said that, I would've been wrong. I would've been wrong, Harry, isn't that right?

Mr. Waturi's attention is split between his call and Joe, who is walking around the office like a tourist.

WATURI: Listen, let me call you back, I've got something here, okay? And don't tell him anything till we finish our conversation, okay?

Mr. Waturi hangs up the phone. Joe is looking at the coffee set-up.

WATURI: Joe?

JOE: Yeah?

WATURI: You were at lunch three hours.

JOE: About that.

Joe wanders away, into his office. Waturi looks after.

WATURI: What's the matter with you?

JOE: Brain cloud.

WATURI: What?

JOE: Never mind. Listen, Mr. Waturi. Frank. I quit.

Joe starts to take some stuff out of his desk. He looks at his lamp, gets the cord, plugs it in, and turns it on.

WATURI: You mean, today?

JOE: That's right.

WATURI: That's great. Well, don't come looking for a reference.

JOE: Okay, I won't.

WATURI: You blew this job.

Joe takes in the little room.

JOE: I've been here for four and a half years. The work I did I probably could've done in five, six months. That leaves four years leftover.

Joe is walking towards the front door. Waturi follows him in. Joe stops at Dede's desk. She's typing. He looks at her. She stops typing.

JOE: Four years. If I had them now. Like gold in my hand. Here. This is for you. (gives Dede the lamp) Bye-bye, Dede.

DEDE: You're going?

WATURI: Well, if you're leaving, leave. You'll get your check. And, I promise you, you'll be easy to replace.

JOE: I should say something.

WATURI: What are you talking about?

JOE: This life. Life? What a joke. This situatio...this room.

WATURI: Joe, maybe you should just...

JOE: You look terrible, Mr. Waturi. You look like a bag of shit stuffed inna cheap suit. Not that anyone would look good under these zombie lights. I can feel them sucking the juice outta my eyeballs. Three hundred bucks a week, that's the news. For three hundred bucks a week I've lived in this sink. This used rubber.

WATURI: Watch it, mister! There's a woman here!

JOE: Don't you think I know that, Frank? Don't you think I'm aware there's a woman here? I can taste her on my tongue. I can smell her. When I'm twenty feet away, I can hear the fabric of her dress when she moves in her chair. Not that I've done anything about it. I've gone all day, every day, not doing, not saying, not taking the chance for three hundred bucks a week, and Frank the coffee stinks it's like arsenic, the lights give me a headache if the lights don't give you a headache you must be dead, let's arrange the funeral.

WATURI: You better get outta here right now! I'm telling you!

JOE: You're telling me nothing.

WATURI: I'm telling you!

JOE: And why, I ask myself, why have I put up with you? I can't imagine but I know. Fear. Yellow freakin' fear. I've been too chicken shit afraid to live my life so I sold it to you for three hundred freakin' dollars a week! You're lucky I don't kill you! You're lucky I don't rip your freakin' throat out! But I'm not going to and maybe you're not so lucky at that. 'Cause I'm gonna leave you here, Mister Wa-a-Waturi, and what could be worse than that?

Joe opens the door and leaves. Mr. Waturi and Dede are frozen. The door reopens and Joe comes halfway back in.

JOE: Dede?

DEDE: Yeah?

JOE: How 'bout dinner tonight?

DEDE: Yeah, uh, okay.