Bob Funk

Since the keeping of time, who hasn't longed to shift the hands of the clock back?

Maybe to a general era, maybe to a specific moment

to just before it all started to slip away.

Now, my time machine cannot place you on that one day.

It cannot find for you the critical moment,

the nexus of the tragic flow,

but it can transport you back to a time

when the blood ran hot in your veins

and your sleep was deep in dreams.

- What? - Honey.

Now, my time machine can give you all this,

and for half the price of a conventional mattress.

- Jesus. - Honey.

Hang in there, little man. The grownups are talking.

Now this is the gold standard. Our platinum line.

- Mom, I don't want a futon. - It's a cotton mattress, tenderfoot.

Let me save you a lot of heartache over the next 20 years.

Wanting's got nothing to do with it.

When I was your age, I wanted to be a fire truck.

Yeah? And I want a real bed.

Yeah, and I wanted a wife that didn't sleep with other men.

- What? - If "ifs" and "buts" were candy and nuts,

every day would be Christmas, and the both of us would be banging supermodels.

- You follow my thread, cupcake? - That's it. We're leaving.

What?

Shit.

And why does he need a real bed?

It's gonna be another 15 years before he knows how to properly fuck on it.

You know what it is? I'll tell you what it is.

It's the glorification of youth.

And you say, "Bob, so what?

So what if we're a culture of youth worship?"

Well, say I, consider the Hitler Youth. Or the Khmer Rouge.

- Can I get a witness on this? Smiley. - I am nothing if not a witness.

And what do the young know about anything anyway?

Not one thing.

Brewer, what did you know when you were 20?

- Not one thing. - And now?

- Everything. - Defense rests.

Might as well glorify cardboard.

Glorify sand. It's all the same thing.

Present company excepted, honey.

I hope Smiley carded you.

I'm 23.

Uh-huh. And I'm Cab Calloway.

Welcome to The Cotton Club.

Tall, tan, and terrific.

Hey, uh, don't you usually come in here

with a big guy, what's his name?

- Adam. - Yeah, Adam.

Hmm. Where's he tonight?

Well, I got about 20 minutes.

Slide down here and tell me the story of your very young life.

[retching, coughing continues]

Ahh...

Share the sidewalk, asshole!

It's not a weapon, lady!

Hi, my name is Bob.

Hi, Bob.

It's been 30 seconds since my last drink.

- Goodbye, dear. - Goodbye.

Ms. Funk, there's a woman here to see you.

- What now? - I think it's about Bob.

Yeah, that-- that door's a push.

Thank you.

- You all right there? - Yeah, fine.

- Push, pull, pull, push. - Yeah. Very confusing.

Yeah. Have a great day.

Huh? Yeah. Yeah, you, too.

Fifty percent off anything on the floor.

Sure.

Glad to see you back with us.

That 50 percent is coming off your commission this month.

If you even have any.

Did you actually tell that woman about Theresa?

Theresa? What? What about her?

She said you were talking about your cheating ex-wife.

What? No.

Uh, listen, can we... can we talk about this later?

Robert, tomorrow morning, 8:30 sharp, my office.

- 8:30. Sharp! - Yeah.

Ahh...

Come on!

Like clockwork.

Morning, Bob.

- Hey, Bob, are you a friend of Bill's? - I got enough friends.

- Name one. -

It's very, very sexy.

So, who is the guy?

Friend of a friend. He owns a dozen doughnut shops.

Huh. It's funny.

Well, anyway, I should get to the office, so...

Good luck tonight.

- Thanks for the sweater, hon. - Absolutely.

- What time is it? - Quarter past 9:00.

I told him. 8:30 a.m., sharp.

This is where the magic happens.

Jean, Sonny, Ms. Thorne.

- How you doing? - I'm done.

Nice to meet you.

- - She knows.

That's how it goes. Funk Foam and Futon. Please hold.

Oh, hold the elevator.

- Hey, who's that? - Oh, that's the new kid.

She's pretty, huh?

I think she's being groomed to replace you, Bob.

I'll probably have to use a coach for the accent.

...Canterbury Tales and Don Quix-- Don Quix--

Hi, Bob. I was just saying that I might get to do the lead in this play.

I was telling her it was kind of a cross between

Canterbury Tales and Don Quixote.

It's a real brainy, very brainy, very,

you know, very old-timey.

I'll probably have to use a coach for the-- to do the accents and--

- - I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

This is Ms. Thorne. This is Mr. Funk.

- Ms. Thorne. - Hi.

Nice to meet you.

You got a--

- Yeah. - I don't wanna--

- Now, no-- Uh-- Just let me-- - Um... Oh, okay.

- Let me-- Oh. - Thank you.

- Ow. I'm sorry, sorry. - Ow, thank you.

- Thank you. - Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Here you go.

- There you-- - Hey, thanks.

So, it's really old-timey stuff because--

I, um-- Anyway, I-- Back to the salt mines, 'cause I gotta--

It was nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you,Steve. Good luck today.

So...

Ms. Thorne.

Ruthie?

Right here.

Page Robert for me, please.

Doing it.

Which is not to say that you have no rights at all.

- That's not the way we do things here. - Bob Funk to Admin.

That's not American.

I don't even think that's legal.

- Bob Funk to Admin. - Is that for you?

Bob Funk to Admin, please.

The chain of command is simple.

Up here you have the upper management.

Down here you have the, uh,

secretaries, janitorial and the like,

and around the center here you have yourself

and other lesser, uh,

Middle management?

Precisely. Middle management.

Or as we like to call it here at Funk Foam and Futon,

upper support.

Sonny and Jean say he's here, but he didn't answer the page.

I'd go, but I've got an online doctor's appointment in five minutes.

- Oh, go. - I saw him talking to the new kid.

- Uh-- - That was good.

Did you change your clothes, Steve?

What? Smelled like Bob.

That's--

Uh, I'm sor-- I didn't mean to snatch it away.

It's-- This is a--

This is a-- an executive clipboard.

And so there might have been a confidential directive--

What do you do here, exactly?

Uh, V.P. of sales.

Vice president of sales?

Yeah, I made that leap.

Huh.

Anyway, the point is, uh,

maybe you'd like to grab a bite some evening.

Tonight?

Tomorrow?

Whenever. Be happy to go over the ins and outs of the shop.

Not a date, necessarily,

but it never hurts to have a friend on the inside.

- Good morning, Robert. - Good morning.

Uh, have you met Ms. Thorne?

Yes. I hired her.

Did you forget our meeting?

Yeah. I'll be there in two shakes.

Actually, we need you there now.

All right, I'll be there in one shake.

I want you to stop harassing this woman...

and get into my office, please.

Excuse me? I-- Was I harassing you?

I was standing right here.

Well, this is an A and B conversation,

and you're the letter C!

Oh, no.

- That actually hurts. - Come on.

Are you out of your mind?

I was just... welcoming that girl.

You were harassing that girl,

and you were supposed to be here with me 45 minutes ago.

- You act like you're gonna spank me. - I should. Look at you.

You look like something the cat wouldn't even touch.

You wore that yesterday, didn't you?

Did you even go home last night?

And that relates to work how?

You are on very thin ice, and you're slipping.