Maximizing Shareholder Profits Through Strategic Resource Reduction

 Fiction. Dark. Rated M for implied violence.

ACT 1

INT. OFFICE BUILDING - MAIN HALLWAY - DAY
Cavalier strides down the corridor, clipboard in hand. His movements are purposeful, but there’s a slight weariness in his gait. He adjusts his tie, muttering under his breath.

CAVALIER
Five years of Mai Tais and sunsets, and I’m back doing this? They couldn’t find anyone else?

He sighs, scanning the clipboard.

CAVALIER
Of course not. Professionals are hard to come by.


---

SCENE 1: THE INTERN
INT. INTERN’S OFFICE - DAY
The cramped office smells of energy drinks and stress. RYAN, the intern, sits hunched over his laptop, headphones dangling around his neck.

RYAN
Oh, hey! You must be the new guy. I didn’t know we were hiring—

Cavalier steps in, calm but deliberate, and sets the clipboard on the desk. Ryan’s grin falters as Cavalier takes a slow, pointed look at him.

CAVALIER
There’s been a… reassessment.

RYAN
Reassessment?

Cavalier nods, moving closer. His voice is even but chilling.

CAVALIER
Corporate’s made their decision. It’s final.

Ryan leans back in his chair, a nervous laugh escaping.

RYAN
Wait, am I being fired?

Cavalier tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing.

CAVALIER
Consider this an opportunity to process the full impact of your contributions.

Ryan stammers, clutching his chest instinctively. He gasps, eyes wide, before slumping back. Cavalier watches for a moment before turning to leave.

CAVALIER
(to himself)
Kids these days. Always think they have time.


---

SCENE 2: THE MID-LEVEL MANAGER
INT. MANAGER’S OFFICE - DAY
The brightly lit office screams "overcompensation." Motivational posters line the walls, and DEBORAH, the manager, stands at a whiteboard covered in scribbles. She turns as Cavalier enters.

DEBORAH
Finally! Someone who can appreciate the nuance of these numbers. You know, I practically—

Cavalier steps closer, picking up a marker from the whiteboard tray. He strikes through her charts with slow, deliberate strokes. Deborah freezes.

DEBORAH
What are you doing? Those are—

CAVALIER
Irrelevant.

DEBORAH
Excuse me?

Cavalier’s voice softens but gains a sharper edge.

CAVALIER
You’ve been released from your duties. Effective immediately.

Deborah blinks, her hand twitching toward her chest.

DEBORAH
You can’t just—

CAVALIER
(leaning in)
It’s done.

Deborah stumbles backward, clutching her desk for support. Cavalier straightens her chair with clinical precision before leaving.


---

SCENE 3: THE ACCOUNTANT
INT. ACCOUNTANT’S OFFICE - DAY
The air is stale, the blinds half-closed. FRANK, the accountant, barely looks up as Cavalier enters, focused on his monitor.

FRANK
If this is about the Q3 reports, I’ve already filed them.

Cavalier approaches silently, placing the clipboard on Frank’s desk.

FRANK
(flatly)
Not interested in another lecture, pal.

CAVALIER
No lecture. Just closure.

FRANK
Closure? What the hell does that mean?

Cavalier steps closer, his voice calm and professional.

CAVALIER
It means you’ve reached the end of your tenure.

Frank’s face twitches, his hand rising instinctively to his chest. His eyes dart to Cavalier, then back to his screen, before he slumps forward onto his desk.

CAVALIER
(smoothing his tie)
Efficiency is underrated.


---

SCENE 4: THE SECRETARY
INT. RECEPTION AREA - DAY
Cavalier returns to the front desk. DORIS, the secretary, is on the phone, gossiping about weekend plans. She barely acknowledges him as he approaches.

DORIS
Yeah, no, it’s just another Monday. Oh, hang on—

She lowers the phone and looks up, annoyed.

DORIS
You done already?

Cavalier leans in close, whispering something in her ear. Doris freezes, her eyes wide, her hand twitching toward her temple.

Cavalier straightens, adjusts his jacket, and casually tosses a silenced pistol into the trash can near the exit. He walks out without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.

 

ACT 2: THE INVESTIGATION (Revised)

INT. OFFICE BUILDING - DAY
Yellow tape hangs loosely over the revolving doors. Two UNIFORMED OFFICERS stand watch as DETECTIVE HARTWELL (worn, but sharp-eyed) steps into the office lobby, followed by OFFICER WILKES (eager, a touch naïve).

The lobby is pristine—except for DORIS, slumped behind the front desk, her perfectly manicured nails resting motionless on a keyboard.

OFFICER WILKES
I thought this was a corporate office, not a crime scene.

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
Corporate crime. The deadliest kind.

Hartwell leans over Doris, examining her vacant eyes and a faint mark at her temple. His fingers brush the surface of the desk—polished, sterile, with no sign of struggle.

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
(smoothly) Single shot. Suppressed. No panic.

OFFICER WILKES
(gaping) Who does that?

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
Someone who isn’t waiting for HR to handle things.


---

INT. MAIN HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS
Hartwell and Wilkes walk through a row of glass-walled offices, each revealing a surreal blend of corporate normalcy and carnage.

One office worker’s face is frozen mid-sigh, fingers still hovering over his keyboard. Another clutches a cup of spilled coffee, its contents pooling on a stack of spreadsheets.

OFFICER WILKES
This is… neat. Too neat.

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
That’s the point. This wasn’t just murder; it was precision work.

He pauses at an office door labeled "Vice President, Operations." Inside, the VP lies slumped against the desk. A motivational poster on the wall reads: “Efficiency is Key.”

OFFICER WILKES
So, this guy just walked in, shot everyone, and left?

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
(staring at the poster) Sounds efficient.


---

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - LATER
The conference room is now the investigation hub. Papers and files are scattered across the table. Hartwell studies an absurdly convoluted organizational chart, while Wilkes reviews a list of employee names.

OFFICER WILKES
(skeptical) So, this whole office just happened to get “cleaned out” the day after their quarterly review?

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
Coincidence, or a performance evaluation that went south.

Hartwell tosses the chart onto the table. Wilkes picks it up, frowning at the ridiculous job titles.

OFFICER WILKES
“Senior Synergy Consultant”? “Efficiency Liaison”? These sound made up.

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
(deadpan) Welcome to corporate America, kid.


---

INT. RECEPTION AREA - LATER
Hartwell approaches the front door, stopping abruptly at a small trash can by the exit.

Inside the trash can, nestled among crumpled papers and a discarded coffee cup, is a sleek silenced pistol.

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
(holding up the trash can) You see this?

OFFICER WILKES
(frowning) He left it here?

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
(grimly) He’s not worried about us. This wasn’t about getting caught.

OFFICER WILKES
Then what was it about?

Hartwell stares at the empty lobby, its cold, fluorescent lights casting eerie reflections on the polished floor.

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
Reorganizing.


---

EXT. OFFICE BUILDING - DAY
Hartwell and Wilkes walk to their car, the building towering silently behind them.

OFFICER WILKES
You think he’ll hit another office?

DETECTIVE HARTWELL
(pausing) Probably. Somebody, somewhere, always needs an efficiency expert.

Hartwell gets into his car, leaving Wilkes standing awkwardly by the curb. The engine roars to life as the scene fades.

FADE OUT. 

Disclaimer:
This story is a work of fiction. The characters and events depicted in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.

Another disclaimer I used AI to help format this and make it more clear because I don't know how to write a screenplay technically.

Is it just me or does nobody like any contents on the site? None of my stuff gets any likes. Is it bad?