Guy: (into phone) No you crazy fool! I said onions! No, no, start over, the whole sandwich is now tainted with your vile onions! (pause) No I'm not allergic to onions, (pause) Because my mother always said 'Onions are for communists. And don't do that while we have company, they'll think you're a pervert.' (pause) Yes, I realize that was far too much information. Now please just start over. White bread, and if it's an end piece you burn in hell!

Assistant: (walks up) Sir?

Guy: Hold on, I'm not anywhere near done with you. (holds hand to reciever of phone, to Assistant) This better be important. I'm trying to order from Subway.

Assistant: Can you do that over the phone?

Guy: Like mommy always said, 'You can do anything you set your mind to. Keep your hands above the table, I don't want anything immoral going on during dinner.'

Assistant: (long pause) (slowly) Anyhoo, I'm sorry to bother you while you're trying to order lunch and reliving disturbing childhood memories, but the President wants you to look over these contracts for him.

Guy: (looks at him oddly) Now why on Earth would the president of the United States call on me of all people for legal advice?

Assistant: No, sir. The president of the company. The one you've served for the past fifteen years.

Guy: Rrrrrrright. Well hand them over. (Assistant hands him forms. Guy puts on reading glasses, begins to read them.) Hm. . . this is unnecessary. . . (crosses out a few sentences with a pen) this doesn't need to be here. . . (crosses more out) This could use a doodle of a woman in a hula skirt. . . (draws on paper) These two pragraphs are totally unnecessary. (takes out scissors, cuts off part of the paper) This here is not worded confusingly enough. . . (takes out a lighter, lights the edge of the paper on fire, puts it out, hands it to Assistant) That should do it. Now don't bother me again unless it involves more fire.

Assistant leaves, a bit uneasily.

Guy: (picks up phone) Alright, so that's white bread, and-hello? Are you still there? God, the manners of some people. (hangs up, picks back up, dials) Hello, I'd like a cheeseburger delivered to me with no pickels. Because mom always said, 'Pickels are the devil's cucumbers. And if I see you do that one more time I'll chop your fingers off.' Hello? Hello? (bangs reciever against desk) Hello? I keep getting disconnected. . . it must be defective. (picks up phone, drops it in trash can) From now on, everything is done by post! (takes out sheet of paper, scribbles a few words on it, folds it into paper airplane, throws it.) There. My lunch will be here any second. (leans back in chair, drums fingers on desk.)

Assistant: (enters carrying paperwork) Sir?

Guy: Ah, here it is. (grabs paperwork, knaws on it) They screwed up my order. I said no mayo. Because mother always-

Assistant: Please, sir, not another one of these. Now listen, the bosses sent me in to fire you.

Guy: Fire me!? You can't fire me (stands and points) I'M YOUR FATHER!

Assistant: (long pause) Be that as it may, I'm afraid you'll have to clean off your desk by 5.

Guy: (pushes everything off his desk) There. Only took me till four fifteen. You owe me two dollars. So what now?

Assistant: . . . You'll have to leave.

Guy: What!? Why!?

Assistant: Because you just got fired.

Guy: No! I'll clean it up! I promise!

Assistant: That's not the reason. I have a typed list of the reasons. (hands him list)

Guy: (grabs reading glasses from pile on floor, reads over list) I peed in the coffee pot on Thursday, not Friday.

Assistant: You did that every day last week.

Guy: As I have for the past three years.

Assistant: Really?

Guy: It's because I pee sugar. Wanna see?

Assistant: Maybe later. For the time being I'm afraid you'll have to leave.

Guy: No! You can't do this! (grabs something from pile, holds it like a knife to Assistant's throat) I have a hostage!

Assistant: That's not a knife. That's a ruler.

Guy: Yeah, well, I could give you a nasty splinter!

Assistant: A plastic ruler.

Guy: (narrows eyes) You win this round.

Assistant: (pushes Guy off) Enough fooling around, you have to go.

Guy: (sits in chair) And what if I don't?

Assistant: Excuse me?

Guy: What if I just decide to sit in this chair and not move? What would you do then?

Assistant: This. (pushes him out window) Been wanting to do that for three years.

Someone: (enters) Subway delivery.