Horrible Bosses

I get to work before the sun comes up

and I leave long after it's gone down.

I haven't had sex in six months

with someone other than myself.

And the only thing in my refrigerator

is an old lime.

Could be a kiwi. No way to tell.

- Morning, Thomas.

-Good morning, Nick. You better hurry.

But here's the thing:

This is just temporary.

Quick story:

My grandmother came to this country

with $20 in her pocket.

She worked hard her whole life

and never took sh*t from anyone.

When she died, she had

turned that $20 into $2000.

That sucks.

You know why she didn't succeed?

Because she didn't take sh*t

from anyone.

The key to success--

They will not teach you this

in business school. --is taking sh*t.

That's what I've been doing the last

eight years, and it's all about to pay off.

This is Nick.

I'm this close to getting a big promotion

with my own office.

I'll be right there, Mr. Harken.

Then all the endless hours,

and the sacrifice and the sh*t-eating...

...will have been worth it.

See, this is what concerns me, Nick.

You're a punctual guy. You know

the importance of being here right at 6 a.m.

Which is what leads me to think that...

...there must be something wrong

with the clock on our system.

May have been a minute late.

But according to this, you were

two minutes late. So either you're a liar...

...or this system is off by a full minute.

The only hitch?

I work for this guy, David Harken...

...who right now is giving me some

fresh sh*t for being two minutes late.

He's a total f***ing a**hole.

If that's the case, I'm gonna have to fire

Thomas, our longtime security coordinator.

- I may have been two minutes late.

- Oh.

Well, then you were lying.

No. I-- Who you calling?

- Thomas. I gotta let him go.

- No, uh--

- I was lying. Sorry.

- Lying?

I didn't mean to. It was more of a saying.

"Might have been a minute late."

Literally, uh, truthfully,

was two minutes late.

Boy, I have to get used to driving

with this big, heavy ring on my finger.

- Come on.

- I keep swerving to the left, babe.

When I was a kid, people would

ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I always gave the same answer.

I love you so much.

I love you too.

I wanted to be a husband.

- I will call you when I'm done.

- Have a good day.

I know that sounds weird.

Most boys wanna be firehouse chiefs

or personal trainers...

...but to me being a husband

was, like, the highest calling.

And thanks to Stacy...

...that dream's about to come true.

Unfortunately, no one's gonna pay you

to be a husband unless you marry Oprah.

So I had to find a job.

Now, I always admired dentists.

They're smart, they're capable,

they keep your teeth healthy.

So I went out and I became one.

- How are you today, Dale?

- I'm fine. Thanks.

Excavator.

Okay, I became a dental assistant.

It's basically the same thing.

I just make a lot less money.

Did you ever see that show Gossip Girl?

- No.

- Ooh.

I watched an episode last night.

I fingered myself so hard to that

Penn Badgley guy, I broke a nail.

And it would have been

the perfect job. If not for one...

...evil crazy b*tch, D.D.S.

I bet you're no shrimp in

the cock department, huh, there, Dale?

- Okay, Julia. Come on.

- What?

- I'm uncomfortable talking about that.

- Oh, Dale, come on.

You know that I like to fool around.

- Oops.

-Mr. Anderton.

Not in the office. This is bad.

- Bad, bad, bad!

- You probably shouldn't hit the patients.

Ah, I love this. So festive.

I love my job.

If you ask me, anyone who hates their job

has no one to blame but themself.

We make our own destinies,

and I've made a sweet one.

We have stairs.

You don't need to bring your own.

I'm an account manager at a chemical

company. I'll tell you, the job has its perks.

Hi, can I help you?

He's just signing for these packages.

Thank you.

Oh, no. I should do this.

Reggie, I got this. Thank you, buddy.

- This is high-priority stuff here.

- Thank you.

- So, what's going on here?

- I'm sorry?

- Is this one of those hidden camera shows?

- What do you mean?

You're way too cute

to be just a FedEx girl.

You gotta be a model or actress

or something, right?

What happens when I open these?

Something'll jump out, bite my penis?

No. Nothing's gonna jump out.

I'm just a FedEx girl.

- Shut up.

- Ha, ha.

- Bye.

- Have a great afternoon.

Thank you.

I didn't sign that form, by the way,

so she has to come back.

She's cute, huh, Reg?

- Caught another fly in your web, did you?

- Ha, ha. Hey, Jack.

But the real reason I'm here is this guy:

Jack Pellit, my boss.

The sweetest man I know.

He loves me and I love him.

Everybody loves him.

- You all right, Margie?

- Hi, Mr. Pellit. Kurt.

I've been waiting to get in there

for a while.

- Who's in there?

- It's your son.

Bobby!

Margie's waiting.

You nearly done in there?

A man can't get any privacy around here.

- Okay, Margie. Bobby?

- What?

Your stomach okay? You seem

to spend more time on the toilet...

...than at your desk.

I didn't realize I had to tell you

every time I wanna take a dump.

If the worst thing about this job

is having to tolerate my boss's...

...dipshit cokehead son,

well, it's a small price to pay.

Need me to tell you when I pee-pee?

I'm just trying to get you to do

your part, son. It's not easy times.

I do my part. I do other people's parts.

But it doesn't matter to you. You just

Rate this script:4.5 / 2 votes