Sidetracked
The Boss’ study. Jerrald sits behind his desk, his leather chair facing the wall behind his desk. He spins a pen in his left hand absentmindedly clearly lost in thought. A soft rap on the door startles him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He stops spinning the pen, swings his chair around, and quickly rummages through the drawer of his desk. Tossing the pen inside, he pulls out a stack of papers and scatters them surreptitiously on the desktop. He surveys the scene briefly. Satisfied with the desk’s now cluttered appearance, he looks toward the door. Jerrald: Come in. The door opens. Freddy enters, massaging the scar on his left hand. He crosses the room and stands behind the chair opposite Jerrald’s. Jerrald: (Jubilantly) Federico! Good to see you. Please, please, sit! (He rummages through one of the drawers quickly and pulls out a box of cigarettes. He shakes the box in Freddy’s direction) Cigarette? Freddy: (curtly) You know I don’t smoke Boss. (He sits.) Jerrald: Still? ...