Halt and Catch Fire Page #3

Sleek, all-business housing of the new Reagan-era. This unit

is sprawling, but has hardly any furniture. A handful of

cardboard moving boxes lie on the floor unopened. A tube TV

on the floor has silver-haired Johnny Carson on mute.

ANGLE ON one moving box as MacMillan--in suit pants and a

white undershirt--rips open the top. He pulls out a back

issue of Byte magazine.

CLOSE ON the vicious scars down his left arm. Far worse than

the superficial glance near his eye.

INTERCUT -- MACMILLAN’S CONDO / CLARK’S GARAGE

-- Clark sits at a fold-out card table, working on an

original Apple I hooked to an old tube TV...

-- ANGLE ON the screen, almost all the light in the room

coming from the glow of BASIC as it scrawls across the

screen, Clark rapidly typing out the programming language...

-- ANGLE ON MacMillan sitting at small table eating a peanut

butter and jelly sandwich, drinking a glass of milk as he

reads under a single overhead light, Byte next to him...

-- LATER, Clark pulls apart a Commodore computer box in his

lap, his face betraying the joy of a kid opening a Christmas

present...

13.

-- CLOSER ON the article MacMillan reads. Entitled:

IBM’S TROJAN HORSE: HOW OPEN ARCHITECTURE WILL UNDO BIG BLUE

The phone RINGS. A cordless plugged in on the floor.

MacMillan looks up. Goes to it, answers.

MACMILLAN:

Hello?

(long pause)

Yes, I cancelled the prescriptions.

(long pause)

Because I don’t need them anymore.

-- ANGLE ON a big brimming tool box as Clark looks for just

the right screwdriver. He checks a few drawers, finds one,

then finds a rolled-up bag of choice pot...

-- ANGLE ON MacMillan as he hangs up. Returns to the table.

Stares off for a moment. Then comes back to the magazine.

-- ANGLE ON Clark now grooving more easily to the music as he

furiously types more lines of BASIC into the Apple I...

-- ANGLE ON Donna, reading in bed. She puts her book on the

night stand, turns the lamp off. The digital clock reads 1:35

a.m. She rolls over. No one there. Only MUFFLED SUPERTRAMP

still coming from the garage.

-- ANGLE ON MacMillan as he continues to read. CLOSER ON the

magazine byline. MacMillan takes a red pen and underlines the

name until the paper grows wet and soft with ink. It reads...

“By Gordon Clark.”

END ACT I:

14.

ACT II:

INT. CARDIFF GIANT OFFICES -- DAY

Fluorescent lights, cubicles, retro colors. Just like the

Post in All the President’s Men, The Daily Planet in Donner’s

Superman.

ANGLE ON Clark at the break counter. He’s wearing the same

shirt, tie, pants as last night. Looking like he just rolled

out of bed. He pours WAY too much sugar into his coffee.

AL KOWALSKI (45) nears--a man who’s parked it in management,

a bit bloated from booze and food and glory days.

AL:

Jesus, Gordon, you look like

garbage.

CLARK:

Thanks, Al, duly noted.

AL:

(withering)

I’m not asking you. ‘Pajamas at

work’ might’ve flown back in

Frisco, but this is a professional

workplace. When I see you again,

you better be wearing at least a

clean shirt. Understand?

Clark lowers his eyes to his coffee as Al walks away.

ANGLE ON MacMillan, in his black suit, a perfect contrast as

he approaches Clark.

MACMILLAN:

Gordon Clark.

CLARK:

That’s me.

MACMILLAN:

You’re my SE for this sales call.

CLARK:

Oh... I am? With, uh...

MACMILLAN:

Applied Data.

CLARK:

That’s not my account.

15.

MACMILLAN:

I made some changes and now it is.

Clark looks up at him with confusion, which quickly turns to

anger. He walks to his cubicle, grabs his bag as MacMillan

follows.

CLARK:

Oh, right, right. Great. Of course

you did. Should be pretty quick.

MACMILLAN:

Why’s that?

CLARK:

‘Cause they never buy anything.

MACMILLAN:

Well... we’ll just go in there and

both do our best, how’s that sound?

CLARK:

(walking past him)

Jesus, what planet are you from?

CUT TO:

EXT. CARDIFF GIANT PARKING LOT -- MOMENTS LATER

MacMillan and Clark walk to Joe’s second Audi Quattro, a

slightly newer model of the one he drove into the ocean.

CLARK:

You kiddin’ me? Where’s the

Porsche?

MACMILLAN:

What?

CLARK:

You sales guys. Don’t you drive the

latest and greatest, whatever gets

‘em wet?

MACMILLAN:

(shrugging)

Car saved my life.

CUT TO:

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM -- LATER

MacMillan sits at one end of the table, locked in. Clark sits

next to him, half-engaged.

16.

ANGLE ON the other end of the table. A VP at the head flanked

by four of his top DIRECTORS and MANAGERS.

DIRECTOR 1

It’s just that efficiency is

kicking us in the ass right now. If

we can’t speed up, then we’re dead

in the water.

CLARK:

A recent analytics pass we did

showed our product out-performing

most of the top-sellers by an

average of 16%.

DIRECTOR 1

What about IBM?

CLARK:

IBM is IBM. But we’re neck and

neck. And we’re cheaper.

DIRECTOR 2

Technically. The difference in cost

is negligible. It seems you guys at

Cardiff think you’ve built a pretty

fancy race car that deserves an

outrageous price tag.

MANAGER 1

And we get no Big Blue guarantee.

MACMILLAN:

There’s no such thing as a Big Blue

guarantee.

DIRECTOR 2

Well, they had me fooled.

The execs chuckle. MacMillan conspicuously does not.

MACMILLAN:

Me, too. That’s why when the floor

dropped out, I was caught unaware.

The execs quiet, listening.

MACMILLAN (CONT’D)

When you’re sailing along with the

best of the best, it’s as if you’re

invincible. When I worked for IBM,

I excelled at IBM. And let me be

clear, they make a good product.

And they are a good company.

17.

His tone is confident and matter-of-fact, devoid of artifice,

just a man relaying facts.

MACMILLAN (CONT’D)

But one day, I turned a corner, and

I got blind-sided. It was because

the confidence I had, my

convictions, what I believed to be

true, the very foundation I was

standing on--it was a lie. When

that happens, you’re left with

nothing. And when that moment comes

for Applied Data, who are you going

to blame?

MacMillan lowers his voice now, causing the execs to lean

forward almost imperceptibly. Here, he drifts off just a bit.

ANGLE ON Clark, paying attention perhaps for the first time.

MACMILLAN (CONT’D)

Will you blame IBM? They don’t

care. You’re an account number to

them. Your entire mainframe could

halt and catch fire, but their name

isn’t sullied. They go on. That’s

when you cease to exist. At least

to them. And to the world, if it

costs you your entire business. And

it’s your fault.

And now MacMillan returns to the room from wherever he was.

He locks eyes with the rapt VP, going in for the close.

MACMILLAN (CONT’D)

Cardiff Giant will white label all

its products and sell them to you

outright. No licensing renewal. And

we will place an IT position at

your location on our payroll. We

will not leave you. We will be

there. It’s simple, honest, and

real. It’s why I work for them.

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