Sunset girl (1)
“Two key words — ‘profit,’ a corporate term, and ‘immortal.’ He compares your puny empire to the infinity and vastness of your soul.

This is a short film screenplay by the author being proposed for production. It is the story of the clash of two dominant personalities, a vicious 82-year-old tycoon and a teenage intellectual rebel. This is a refined and expanded version of what was featured in this column years ago. The teenager meets the tycoon in his office.
TERENCE: Hi Therese. I must warn you. I'm vicious. Everyone here fears me. Don't be afraid.
THERESE: I am not afraid.
TERENCE: I like that for a change. I am normally addressed as "sir."
THERESE: Don't you get tired of being called "sir"? It's about time you meet an equal.
TERENCE: Whoa. An equal. I could fire you this instant.
THERESE: Go ahead. You want me to go? (Stands up.)
TERENCE: Sit down.
THERESE: We are equal because we will both die sometime. I might even die before you. I was told you needed a 'sunset girl' to help you relax at the end of the day.
TERENCE (Leafing through her biodata): Hmmm. 19 years old. Summa cum laude, Boston U. Top of the class.
THERESE (They approach the glass wall window overlooking Midtown Manhattan's orange sunset.): You know, the sunset is a paradox. It is both the symbol of life and of death.
TERENCE: I hired you because you're at the top of your class, and your personality test says you're an intellectual rebel. I need someone who thinks out-of-the-box, pure of heart, and without scars.
THERESE: I have hidden scars, Terence. May I call you Terence?
TERENCE: You already did.
