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Characters

1. Mr. Johnson - The overly serious, clueless interviewer.

2. Lucy - The nervous, overly enthusiastic job candidate.

3. Janet - The receptionist who doesn’t care about anything.

4. Dave - A random employee who keeps wandering in.

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Page 1

(The scene opens in a small, dingy office. There’s a desk with a nameplate that says “Mr. Johnson, Manager.” A clock on the wall is broken, stuck at 4:20. Janet, the receptionist, is filing her nails and chewing gum loudly. Lucy enters, holding a resume and looking nervous.)

Lucy: (cheerful but shaky) Hi! I’m here for the 2 PM job interview? My name’s Lucy!

Janet: (without looking up) Yeah, whatever. Take a seat. He’ll be with you in a minute. Or an hour. Who knows?

Lucy: (sitting) Oh, okay! Thanks! (pauses) So… what’s it like working here?

Janet: (deadpan) It’s like a circus, but without the fun or the peanuts.

Lucy: (laughs nervously) Oh, that’s… funny?

Janet: (still not looking up) It’s not.

(Lucy awkwardly sits in silence. The clock ticks loudly. After a beat, Dave bursts in holding a coffee cup and a rubber chicken.)

Dave: (excited) Janet! I found it! The chicken! It was in the copier!

Janet: (unimpressed) Cool. Put it back.

Dave: (noticing Lucy) Oh, hey! Are you here for the interview?

Lucy: (standing) Yes! I’m Lucy!

Dave: (shaking her hand vigorously) Dave! Nice to meet you! You’re gonna love it here. We’re like a family. A dysfunctional, slightly unhinged family.

Lucy: (laughs nervously) Oh, that sounds… great?

Dave: (leaning in) Just a heads-up—Mr. Johnson’s a bit… eccentric. Don’t let him scare you. (whispers) He thinks the office plants are spying on him.

Lucy: (confused) The… plants?

Dave: (nodding) Yeah. He talks to them. Sometimes they “talk back.”

(Before Lucy can respond, a door slams open, and Mr. Johnson enters, wearing a suit that’s two sizes too big and holding a clipboard.)

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Page 2

Mr. Johnson: (booming) Lucy! Welcome! I’m Mr. Johnson, your potential future boss! (pauses) Or your worst nightmare. Depends on how the interview goes.

Lucy: (nervously) Uh… nice to meet you!

Mr. Johnson: (ignoring her) Follow me. And don’t touch the plants. They’re watching.

(Lucy follows Mr. Johnson into his office. The room is a mess, with stacks of paper everywhere and a single potted plant on his desk. He sits down and stares at her intensely.)

Mr. Johnson: (serious) So, Lucy. Why do you want to work here?

Lucy: (perky) Well, I’ve always been passionate about… uh… (glances at the company logo on the wall)… whatever it is you do here!

Mr. Johnson: (narrowing his eyes) We sell paperclips.

Lucy: (nodding) Right! Paperclips! I love paperclips. They’re so… clip-y.

Mr. Johnson: (leaning forward) Interesting. And what would you say is your greatest weakness?

Lucy: (thinking) Oh, that’s easy. I’m a perfectionist.

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Ah, a classic. I respect that. My greatest weakness is that I’m too humble. It’s a curse, really.

Lucy: (awkwardly) Oh… that must be… hard?

Mr. Johnson: (ignoring her) Next question. If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?

Lucy: (confused) A… tree?

Mr. Johnson: (serious) Yes. This is a critical part of the interview.

Lucy: (thinking) Uh… I guess I’d be an oak tree? Because they’re strong and… reliable?

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Good choice. Oaks are trustworthy. Unlike maples. Those backstabbers.

Lucy: (laughs nervously) Right… maples are the worst.

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Page 3

(Suddenly, Dave bursts into the office holding a stapler and a slice of pizza.)

Dave: (excited) Johnson! I fixed the stapler! It was jammed with pizza crust!

Mr. Johnson: (angry) Dave! Can’t you see I’m in the middle of an interview?

Dave: (shrugs) Oh, sorry. Carry on. (to Lucy) Good luck! You’re gonna need it.

(Dave exits, leaving a trail of pizza sauce behind him. Mr. Johnson sighs and turns back to Lucy.)

Mr. Johnson: (serious) Where were we? Ah, yes. The tree question. Why do you think you’d make a good oak?

Lucy: (panicking) Uh… because I’m… rooted in my values?

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Impressive. Very impressive. (pauses) But can you handle pressure?

Lucy: (confident) Absolutely! I thrive under pressure!

Mr. Johnson: (grinning) Good. Because this job is 90% pressure and 10% existential dread.

Lucy: (laughs nervously) Sounds… fun?

Mr. Johnson: (leaning back) It’s not. Next question. If you could be any animal, what would you be?

Lucy: (thinking) Uh… a dolphin? They’re smart and… friendly?

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Dolphins are acceptable. But sharks are better. Sharks don’t take nonsense from anyone.

Lucy: (awkwardly) Right… sharks are… cool?

Mr. Johnson: (serious) Exactly. Now, let’s move on to the practical portion of the interview.

(He pulls out a box of paperclips and dumps them on the desk.)

Mr. Johnson: (commanding) Sort these by color.

Lucy: (confused) But… they’re all silver.

Mr. Johnson: (smirking) Exactly. This is a test of your attention to detail.

(Lucy starts sorting the paperclips, looking increasingly stressed. Mr. Johnson watches her like a hawk.)

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Page 4

(After a few moments of awkward silence, Janet pokes her head in.)

Janet: (bored) Johnson, your 3 PM is here. It’s the guy from the FBI again.

Mr. Johnson: (panicked) The FBI?! Tell him I’m not here! (to Lucy) Keep sorting. I’ll be back.

(Mr. Johnson rushes out of the room, leaving Lucy alone with the paperclips. She looks around nervously, then starts talking to herself.)

Lucy: (whispering) Okay, Lucy, you’ve got this. Just sort the paperclips. How hard can it be? (pauses) Wait, why am I sorting paperclips? This is insane.

(Suddenly, Dave enters again, this time holding a ukulele.)

Dave: (cheerful) Hey! How’s it going?

Lucy: (startled) Oh! Uh… fine? I’m just… sorting paperclips.

Dave: (nodding) Ah, the old paperclip test. Classic Johnson. He did that to me too. (leans in) Pro tip: just pretend to sort them. He won’t notice.

Lucy: (whispering) Really?

Dave: (grinning) Yeah. He’s too busy worrying about the plants.

(Dave strums the ukulele awkwardly and exits. Lucy sighs and starts pretending to sort the paperclips. Mr. Johnson returns, looking flustered.)

Mr. Johnson: (sitting down) Sorry about that. The FBI thinks I’m involved in some kind of… paperclip smuggling ring. Ridiculous, right?

Lucy: (nervously) Uh… yeah. Totally ridiculous.

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Exactly. Now, let’s see how you did with the paperclips.

(He examines the pile, nodding approvingly.)

Mr. Johnson: (impressed) Not bad. Not bad at all. You’ve got a real future in paperclip sorting.

Lucy: (relieved) Oh, thank you!

Mr. Johnson: (serious) But don’t get too excited. The real test is yet to come.

(He pulls out a rubber chicken and slams it on the desk.)

Mr. Johnson: (commanding) Sell me this chicken.

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Page 5

Lucy: (staring at the chicken) Uh… what?

Mr. Johnson: (serious) You heard me. Sell. Me. This. Chicken.

Lucy: (panicking) Okay… uh… this is a… high-quality rubber chicken! It’s perfect for… uh… stress relief! Or… pranks! Or… uh… (pauses) Why would anyone buy a rubber chicken?

Mr. Johnson: (leaning forward) Exactly. That’s the question. Why would anyone buy a rubber chicken? Convince me.

Lucy: (thinking) Okay… uh… this chicken is more than just a chicken. It’s a lifestyle. It’s a statement. It’s… (pauses) the key to happiness?

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Go on.

Lucy: (gaining confidence) With this chicken, you’ll never be alone. It’s the perfect companion for long nights, boring meetings, or… uh… existential crises!

Mr. Johnson: (impressed) Not bad. Not bad at all. But can it dance?

Lucy: (confused) Dance?

Mr. Johnson: (serious) Yes. Dance. Every good rubber chicken should be able to dance.

(Lucy picks up the chicken and awkwardly makes it “dance” on the desk. Mr. Johnson watches intently.)

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Hmm. A bit stiff, but with practice, it could work.

Lucy: (laughs nervously) So… did I pass?

Mr. Johnson: (smirking) We’ll see. One final test.

(He pulls out a blindfold and hands it to her.)

Mr. Johnson: (commanding) Put this on.

Lucy: (nervously) Uh… why?

Mr. Johnson: (serious) Trust is essential in this company. Put it on.

(Lucy hesitates but puts on the blindfold. Mr. Johnson stands up and starts moving around the room.)

Mr. Johnson: (dramatic) Now, Lucy, tell me… what do you hear?

Lucy: (confused) Uh… I hear… your voice?

Mr. Johnson: (serious) And what else?

Lucy: (listening) Uh… the clock ticking? And… is that… elevator music?

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Good. Very good. Now, what do you smell?

Lucy: (sniffing) Uh… coffee? And… burnt toast?

Mr. Johnson: (serious) Excellent. And finally… what do you feel?

Lucy: (pausing) Uh… I feel… confused?

Mr. Johnson: (smirking) Perfect. You’re hired.

(Lucy pulls off the blindfold, shocked.)

Lucy: (excited) Really?! I got the job?!

Mr. Johnson: (nodding) Yes. Welcome to the team. Your first task is to name the plant.

Lucy: (confused) The… plant?

Mr. Johnson: (serious) Yes. It’s been nameless for too long. It’s time it had an identity.

(Lucy looks at the plant, then back at Mr. Johnson, who is dead serious. She sighs and smiles.)

Lucy:  (determined) Okay. Let’s do this.

(The scene ends with Lucy staring at the plant, deep in thought, as Mr. Johnson nods approvingly.)