Mayhem Page #5

The siren:
They're guarding

the private elevator.

I can't leave the office.

Then destroy the card.

It's my only leverage.

Kara, I promise you,

I will do everything in my power

to ensure he doesn't get to you.

But if he does, you must

protect those above you.

F*** those above me!

I'll give you the raise

you always wanted.

F*** your raise!

I'll make you partner.

F*** your... deal.

I'll throw it out the window.

Oh, thank you.

Meg!

Hide this somewhere safe

and don't tell me where.

And make more

f***ing coffee now!

Stupid b*tch.

Derek:
The elevator's

the only way upstairs.

We can ambush her here.

Melanie:

Well, it's gonna be a while.

Top three bands, go.

Only three?

Only three, that's the rules.

All right.

- Motorhead.

- Oh.

D. R. I. And early Anthrax.

- Oh.

- Metal till I f***ing puke.

All right. Okay.

That's not what I expected,

but fine choices.

What did you... what did you

expect, the Dave Matthews Band?

Hey, Dave Matthews Band

is actually a good...

other way, a**hole. Go.

Turn around. Yep. You got it.

Woman:
You f***ing dick, Joe!

What?

Dave Matthews Band

is a good band.

- Oh, my god.

- You ever heard them live?

I would rather chew glass.

Are you serious?

Just because they're popular

doesn't mean

that they're bad at music.

I think it's actually

that people think

it's more popular

to dislike them,

so they're just trying

to be cool.

- It's bullshit.

- All right. Fine.

I'll go see them at burning man.

All right,

make fun all you want,

but if we ever get out of here,

I'm gonna get us tickets,

all right, to the coliseum

show in July.

And I'm gonna take you there,

and I'm gonna turn you on

to some great musicianship.

- You're gonna turn me on?

- Turn you on, yes.

Before or after we go out

to buy birkenstocks?

- F*** off.

- Do you wear them with socks?

I bet you do.

Okay. So... so...

so just tell me again

why you can't send a unit in

to just stop this a**hole.

A heavily armed SWAT team in a

building filled with civilians

infected with the virus

would be catastrophic.

For that, we need to...

excuse me.

What are you doing?

Allergies.

Who are you,

my f***ing therapist?

Anyway, all we can do

is talk to the employee

in an attempt to defuse

the situation.

We currently have

a psychologist on-site

who could possibly talk

to the infected individual.

The boss:
Notify the team

down in accounting.

I'm offering 150 grand

for Cho's head.

You're talking

about murder here.

You should be offering

at least 450.

Agreed.

Derek:
Four hours left

till the quarantine lifts.

We're running out of time.

Well, sometimes you got to say,

"what the f***?

Make your move."

- "Risky business."

- Yeah.

All right.

Whew.

Mark:
Hello, Derek?

My name's mark.

I'm a psychologist

working with the CDC.

- Can you hear me?

- Yes, he can hear you, mark.

Mark:
I was just told

that you were

under a bit of stress right now,

so I wanted to check in on you.

Can we talk?

Can you tell me how you feel?

Um, how do I feel?

Um I feel like

taking my clothes off.

- Mark:
Mm-hmm.

- I feel like causing

extraordinary amounts

of property damage.

I feel like I want to scream.

I want to f***.

I feel like twisting limbs

and breaking bones!

I feel great, mark.

Mark:

That's the virus talking.

I agree, mark.

Derek isn't thinking

clearly right now.

He's so consumed by his ID

that he hasn't noticed

that we're just here

to help him.

Mark:

You should listen to her, Derek.

Why don't you sit down,

take a breath, and talk it out?

Talk it out.

Hmm.

Sure.

- I'll talk it out.

- Mark:
Yeah.

Let's just have a conversation.

Track three.

Melanie:
Better not be f***ing

Dave Matthews Band.

Derek:
Okay.

Those of you who don't want to

be a part of this can leave now.

Mark:

Derek, please listen to me.

But if you choose to stay,

which it seems like

you guys are choosing...

- Mark:
Derek, please.

- You understand and agree

to the following

terms and conditions.

- Mark:
Derek!

- One...

Mark:
Derek, this is

the virus talking.

you hereby

waive your right...

- Mark:
Derek, please.

- To your own personal

bodily integrity.

- Mark:
This is not you.

- Two...

Mark:

I'm a licensed psychologist.

per the state vs. Nevil Reed,

my colleague and I will not

be held criminally liable

for any felony or misdemeanor

that you may be a victim of,

including but not limited

to aggravated assault,

aggravated battery,

disorderly conduct,

destruction of property, mayhem,

and first-degree murder.

And, three, terms and conditions

may change or be updated

whenever the f*** I want!

Consider yourselves notified.

Aah!

Mark:
Hello?

Derek?

Is anyone there?

Derek:
Knock, knock.

Key card, por favor.

If you want it,

you'll have to negotiate.

Negotiations have ended.

Well, so will the quarantine,

and I don't know

where the key card is.

- What do you want?

- A truce.

F*** your truce.

No truce, no key card.

All right.

Tell me where it is,

and I promise I'll be on my way

and leave you alone.

You're a man

of your word, Derek.

That's why I believe you.

And that's... that's why

you never made partner.

Key card.

Key card, Derek.

Don't be stupid now.

There's a good boy.

- Meg!

- Yeah, Meg!

Take your key card,

Derek, and f*** off.

What card?

All I see is a useless piece of

scorched plastic on the table.

Strange.

Me too.

- Is that what you see, too, Meg?

- Yep.

So tell me, Meg, sweetie,

why did you bring me

this useless piece of plastic

instead of my key card?

Oh, that is your key card,

or it used to be

before I put it inside

a microwave oven.

And why would you do that,

I wonder? Huh?

You're exactly like

every other assistant, Meg.

You're a vapid, bottom-feeding,

parasitic shithead!

You're a pair of tits

with zero talent.

So tell me, Meg,

you incompetent c*nt,

what could possibly possess you

to destroy my key card?

Because everyone upstairs

knew you would betray them.

So they offered me a promotion

in exchange for

destroying the card.

So

I guess I no longer work

for you, you f***ing b*tch.

In fact, I don't have to listen

to your hideous,

shrill voice ever again!

- F*** you!

- F*** you!

Aah!

Now it's a party!

Oh, my god! Yes!

Derek:

Hey, just wanted to say,

no more lies,

no more power games...

no more bullshit,

and no more siren song.

By the way,

Meg, she's a little crazy.

She's perfect here.

Dude, that freak show had

some super-good-quality shoes.

These are comfy as f***!

- I loved this mug.

- Melanie:
Mm.

I got it on the, uh,

first day that I started here.

My sister gave it to me.

F*** this place.

Do you still have that, um,

foreclosure paperwork on you?

Melanie:

Uh, yeah.

Why?

Let me take a little look at it.

What?

You're in luck.

This mortgage is

part of a bad batch.

Original paperwork

was filed so many times

that it'd be tough to find.

- Oh.

- Could even be lost.

So if I ask the bank

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