Head Office Page #3

I can't talk! It wasn't my fault;

I'll call you back. It wasn't my fault;

I'll call you back. It wasn't my fault.

It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault. (woman)

Hey! Hey. [growling] Was that--

Yeah, Frank. Lesson number four:

the secret to survival is, never make a decision. Never? Never. The minute you do,

you get screwed. I didn't make that decision! I have approved

somebody else's decision! I don't make decisions

like that! Do you know the difference

between decision approval? Call the guy

who made the decision! I just approved it! What are you guys

doing to me? You're killing me up there. I've got $72,000 Mercedes-Benz

that's leaking more oil than---Poland! I've got a dead father-in-law

who's pissed off because he's in semi-private! I got a cat in the hospital

that's costing me $100 a day! You guys are killing me up here! I'm dying here! I'm dying! [pump squeaking] I love this business. So you think you're

executive material, Jack? You mean,

can I play hardball? No, I mean

can you kiss ass? We'd better

get a move on. Gross'll have a heart attack

if you keep him waiting. Look, I'm afraid Mr. Gross

can't make the meeting. [woman on phone]

He can't be that busy. No, I wouldn't exactly call

what Mr. Gross is doing right now as being busy. Well, then what is he? He's dead.

He's dead. Let's make it

after lunch. Well, after lunch is

just as bad. Mr. Gross is dead. He'll still be dead after lunch. Look, Mr. Yonge

will be very upset. Yes, I know Mr. Yonge gets upset when we cancel

business meetings, but Mr. Gross has passed away. Passed away?

Dead? That's right. You mean really dead? No longer alive, correct. Try aspirin-- The man is dead. He's turning green as we speak. He's not going

to make it to lunch. He's not going

to make it to the meeting. If Mr. Yonge wants

to see Mr. Gross that badly, I'll ship Mr. Gross's body

down by internal mail. Oh. Gross screams a lot. You'll get used to him.

Right. You can live with him as long as you lift

your end of the load. Right. Lift. Right. Howard Gross is one of the best

PR men in the business. Been doing a hell of a job

for us for a lot of years. Real pressure player. Son of a b*tch,

he looks pretty bad. He's dead, sir. You can call me Max. He's dead, Max. You won't be

starting with Gross. Give me a minute on this. Uh, I'll make a call. [sniffing] Let me and try to set you up

with Mike Hoover. He's got a great future

in this company. They sure dropped a sh*t load

of power in your lap. Al, I want to talk to you. You were smart, Mike. You picked up that whole

Latin American region last year. Who would have guessed

this--this Allenville move? You lucky son of a b*tch! Al, you're the only guy

I can talk to. Well, then walk me down. I'm going to have a little time before the prayer

breakfast meeting. Uh--Mike!

I'm gone! I'm dead. And you don't even understand

the meaning of the word. Dead! Pardon me. (woman)

Hold the elevator. You're actually

physically dying? Eight months. The doctor said

eight months. I just couldn't

believe it. Now, look, Al,

the most important thing is, I don't want you

to tell anybody about this. If any of these guys

find out anything about this, it'll be terrible! Al, my work is all

I have left right now. And I want to keep working

for as long as I can. But if any of these guys

finds out anything about this, they're going to be after my job

like a bunch of vultures. So be sure you don't tell

anybody, all right? Jesus, Mike, I swear

I wouldn't say a word. (Colonel Tolliver)

Social disorder, jobs, homosexuality, racial impurity,

and foreign imports-- Hoover just told me

he had eight months to live. Jesus. What's he got? The whole Latin American

division. I mean what disease? Jesus, I forgot to ask. [applause] Gentlemen, let us pray. Get back!

[panting] The carpets,

they rolled up my carpets! My sink. Ah. "To Frank Stedman

for 15 years of service." A Timex. A goddamned, lousy $22 Timex! [clattering] [watch beeping] Amen. (all)

Amen. Jack, welcome aboard. Thank you, sir. I know your father. Great senator, great American,

outstanding human being. Well, he's managed

to stay out of jail, and we're real proud

about that, sir. [both laughing weakly] You met Howard Gross. Uh, not really. I mean, he, uh, died. He died before I could-- You'll have a new boss

in a few days, Jack. We were planning on moving

Howard out anyway. Move him out. (man)

Yes, sir. Never really had

the heart for the job. God, I love this company. I love the action. I love how it touches you

every minute of every day. Let it down for one second; the entire system will roll

over you like a Mack truck. It's merciless. But when you're up there

in that cab-- [glass shattering] Gripping that wheel,

pedal to the metal, foot to the floor, flat-out

screaming down the highway, wind at your heels,

the entire power of a multinational corporation

pounding under the hood-- Huh! Nothing like it. [air whistling] Nothing in the world. [air whistling] [car honking] Bob, what was Frank Stedman

wearing this morning? An all-blue suit, sir. That's what I thought. My God. Exhilaration of power. That's what we're

all here for, Jack, but you got to have

what it takes. Am I right, Nixon? Absolutely, sir. Stedman. Looks like it. The company's a world

unto itself. The company giveth;

company taketh away. The strong survive;

the weak fall. Jack. We won't be easy on you, but I promise you this. You'll be

a better man for it. Absolutely. Two in one morning. Welcome to the world

of big business. You won't be starting

with Hoover. Rumor is, he'll be dead

in eight months. You'll be starting

in complaints. This is you. It's small,

but it has no window. Eliminates the temptation

to jump. You could always

hang yourself. No way,

the ceiling's too low. Hi, my name's Rabinovich. I'm from St. Louie. I'm just down the hall. I'm new too. Max Landsberger. Jack Issel. Hi. (Hudson)

Well, if it isn't

the senator's son? I bet Daddy had to pull a few

strings to get you in here. I believe it was

a straight cash pay-off. Max Landsberger. Uh, John Hudson. Jack, why don't you take

a few minutes to get settled? I have to make some new

arrangements for you anyway. I'll be back in a flash. Gentlemen. [laughs sheepishly] [dramatic music] This cream developed by

your company to eliminate hair from women's legs is

a crime against women. It's a crime against nature, and we demand its immediate

removal from the market. You--you don't think

women should shave their legs or underarms? Take a look. We are not, and I repeat, not

involved in the underarm issue. You're not involved

in the underarm-- That's the WACPFSMML. WAC-- Women Against

Corporate Promotion of Female Self-Mutilation

Marxist Leninist. I'm going to pass this on

to my superior. (woman)

Pass this on

to your superior, Jack. (man #1)

Do you know what this is,

Mr. Issel? Is this a trick question? This is the liver

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