[INT. The office building of a generic mid-level bureaucratic company, unimportant in the grand scheme]
A nebbish, junior office WORKER (Jones) knocks and hesitantly enters the office of his BOSS (Chapman). BOSS is comfortably seated on one side of a desk, WORKER remains standing.
BOSS: Yes? Well, what is it?
WORKER: Uh, you asked me to look into the supply problems with the Bertman account.
BOSS: Ah yes. Mind, I don't want any superficial, easy-to-spot solutions. I hope you've really gotten to the root of the thing.
WORKER: I think so, yes, sir. I know it took a little longer but I think I've found the real problem.
BOSS: And? Out with it, man.
WORKER: Capitalism.
BOSS: Capitalism?
WORKER: Yes. The economic system under which we're all labouring is the cause of the problems with the Bertman account, and, frankly, most of the other problems the company has, according to my research.
BOSS: Capitalism... Well, let's have a look at that report.
[BOSS skims through document]
BOSS: My Lord. That really is the cause of a lot of things, isn't it? Well. Do you have a proposal for fixing the issue?
WORKER: Yes, sir. We will need to overthrow the existing economic order and impose either a central, planned economy with the means of production owned in common by all, or at least devolving the surplus product of our labour to the workers.
BOSS: By Jove. I see. That sounds like quite a lot. How long do you estimate this project will take?
WORKER: Yes sir. I think we can get it done in... Six weeks, sir.
BOSS: Six weeks!
WORKER: Or two months at the outside, sir.
BOSS: Well, carry on then, let's see how this goes.
[CUT TO: Stock footage of rallies, marching parades, etc, as in the background a chorus sings The Internationale]
INT. Office again, WORKER and BOSS are both now dressed as COMMUNISTS, both now stand side by side consulting papers on a desk.
BOSS: Well. It certainly appears the supply problems with the Bertman account are gone for good, as is the global exploitation of the working class. Good work, comrade.
WORKER: Thank you, comrade.
[BOTH begin singing The Internationale, arms linked]
FADE
