Craven reads the script.

IN A BOARDROOM HIGH IN A TALL BUILDING IN A BIG CITY. THROUGH THE WINDOW OF THE BOARDROOM CAN BE SEEN HUNDREDS OF OTHER TALL BUILDINGS FULL OF MILLIONS OF OTHER PEOPLE IN OTHER OFFICES ALL DOING STUFF. LOTS OF STUFF.

IF YOU LOOK OUT THE WINDOW AND GAZE WAY DOWN BELOW TO THE GROUND, YOU WILL SEE ANTS WALKING UP AND DOWN. THE ANTS ARE MORE PEOPLE. THESE PEOPLE ARE NOT DOING STUFF YET, BUT ARE ON THEIR WAY TO DOING STUFF. POSSIBLY MORE INTERESTING STUFF, LIKE GOING TO LUNCH OR ROBBING A BANK.

MICK AND DAVE ARE NOT GAZING OUT THE WINDOW. THEY ARE SITTING AT THE BOARDROOM TABLE FACING CRAVEN AND CRAVEN HAS A PIECE OF PAPER IN HIS HAND AND HE IS GAZING AT IT.

CRAVEN: This is not a TV commercial, it’s a fucking Raymond Chandler novel.

MICK (BELLIGERENTLY): Who’s asking you, Craven?

CRAVEN: Well, you’re showing me the script, aren’t you?

MICK: It’s not that I don’t value your opinion, Craven, it’s just that this is a creatively-driven agency and when creative asks account service What do you think, it doesn’t mean Feel free to offer gratuitous derogatory comments, it means We’re just letting you read it as a privilege before go and sell it and don’t give me that devil’s advocate bullshit that every account service idiot in the world trots out with boring regularity just for the sake of being hypercritical.

CRAVEN IS ABOUT TO SAY SOMETHING BUT SAYS SOMETHING ELSE INSTEAD: Well, thanks for giving me the privilege of letting me read your novel outline.

DAVE: Great. We resist the idea of putting two clients in one ad and you insist it’s the way of the future and a great opportunity for unexpected scripting so we write the fucking thing against our better judgement and now you object. And they call creative people fickle.

CRAVEN: I’m not objecting, it just reads like an episode of Murder Inc. There’s more plot twists and turns than Crime in the City. You’ve got an accidental death possibly aided by a servant being derelict in his duty, a mother locked away in a sanatorium, a greedy son, a daughter-in-law who wants an instant inheritance and a murder. And that’s just on first reading. You’ve probably got a couple of crooked casino operators and a cop on the take in there as well.

MICK: Craven, if you’re going to blend snail bait and superannuation, you need a story. That is, if you want an interesting ad that people will actually watch. Otherwise change the snail bait to garden fertiliser and we can just have a print ad with a still shot of Buffalo Finance and a packet of fertiliser and a line that says Two Ways to Grow.

CRAVEN (LAUGHS OUT LOUD): Hey! That’s good! I like it!

DAVE: No, it’s not good, Craven, it’s totally fucking stupid. It was sarcasm. You hate my ads and love my sarcasm. One of us is in the wrong business.

CRAVEN: It was good sarcasm, though, Dave. And we ARE both in the right business. Bank tellers don’t have this much fun. Maybe restaurant reviewers or dog walkers or film stars or hookers. But no-one out there.

HE WAVES OUT THE WINDOW TOWARDS THE BUILDINGS FULL OF PEOPLE DOING STUFF. A HELICOPTER BUZZES OVERHEAD AND DISAPPEARS TO THE RIGHT OF THE WINDOW. HE CONTINUES …

But I’m not objecting to the concept, guys, I was just thinking …

DAVE: What, Craven?

CRAVEN: I was just thinking.

MICK (CREATIVES HATE IT WHEN ACCOUNT PEOPLE THINK): WHAT??

DAVE: Look out, he's having another Craven moment.