Ground Floor Page #3

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GROUND FLOOR:

"Pilot" Rev. Network Draft 6/29/12 11.

I/D

DERRICK:

I didn’t meet anyone.

HARVARD:

I hate it when you do that.

JENNIFER:

Hey, he’s getting better. Derrick

used to lie about everything-DERRICK

Everybody exaggerates a little to make

themselves seem cooler.

HARVARD:

You said you could get me play-off

tickets, because your dad worked for

the Giants!

DERRICK:

Dude, it’s going to happen.

JENNIFER:

(TO HARVARD) Look, I’ve been working

with him. Now, when he lies, if

someone asks a follow-up question, he

comes clean.

HARVARD:

(TURNS TO DERRICK) Does your dad

really work for the Giants?

DERRICK:

Nah, he sweeps warehouses.

GROUND FLOOR "Pilot" Rev. Network Draft 6/29/12

12.

I/D

JENNIFER:

I’m so proud of you.

DERRICK:

Thanks, Jenny.

JENNIFER:

For what? We always have each other’s

backs down here.

SMASH CUT /

TRANSITION UP TO:

GROUND FLOOR "Pilot" Rev. Network Draft 6/29/12 13.

I/E

ACT ONE:

SCENE E:

INT. UPSTAIRS CONFERENCE ROOM - MORNING (DAY THREE)

(BRODY, THREEPEAT, MANSFIELD, KYLE)

YOUNG MONEY MANAGERS MILL AROUND BEFORE THE MORNING MEETING.

BRODY AND THREEPEAT ENTER. KYLE TURNS TO THREEPEAT:

KYLE:

Yo, Threepeat, you keep dropping the

ball on the Danson Trust, and I’m

going to steal that client.

AS HE PASSES KYLE, THREEPEAT FLICKS HIM IN THE CROTCH. KYLE

FLINCHES. THREEPEAT KEEPS WALKING.

THREEPEAT:

Ball tap. (THEN, TO BRODY) That’s

the only way to keep these guys in

check.

BRODY:

No, there are other, more adult ways.

THREEPEAT:

I still can’t believe you hooked up

with a ground floor chick.

BRODY:

Wait, you’re judging me? Because you

carry a list in your pocket of “stuff

you’d like to have sex with”. Not

girls - not even people - stuff.

BRODY PULLS IT OUT OF THREEPEAT’S INSIDE-JACKET POCKET.

GROUND FLOOR "Pilot" Rev. Network Draft 6/29/12 14.

I/E

BRODY (CONT’D)

Oh and look, you crossed off “giant

stuffed teddy bear”.

THREEPEAT:

Yeah, we were in a toy store. The

guys took cell video.

THREEPEAT HOLDS HIS CELL UP TO BRODY.

BRODY:

That looks like it might end in

another “bury the pants” situation.

I’m out.

BRODY DOESN’T WATCH. THE OTHERS LOOK OVER THREEPEAT’S

SHOULDER. MR. MANSFIELD, (LATE 40S, MERCURIAL AND

INTIMIDATING, THE IMPOSING HEAD OF WHITESTONE) ENTERS AND

TAKES IT ALL IN.

MANSFIELD:

This is good. See, I was worried that

you’d all spend the five or so minutes

before our morning meeting working on

your pitch books for the investment

committee members of the Hopetown

endowment. Instead, I see something I

wish I could show all our clients:

the fine young men I picked to manage

their money, gathered together,

watching one of their brethren pretend

to make love to a toy. (THEN) Mr.

Moyer, not participating?

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