JUST ANOTHER DAY - it’s man vs. machine in a satire on sex and automation. Susie Homemaker is the nation’s first domestic robot. Will she be the quintessential household product or the voluptuous machine men always dream about? Avery Day, her publicist, finds out when he splits in two and faces his worst nightmare.
FADE IN.
EXT. 57TH STREET - LATE AFTERNOON
Gridlock paralyzes the TRAFFIC. PEDESTRIANS populate the street like ant farms. CLOSE UP on 9 West 57th turns the highrise into an erector set, larger than life. A vertical PAN climbs the facade and stops at the 44th floor.
INT. MIND OVER MEDIA P.R. AGENCY
TRAVELING SHOTS through the smoked glass window reveal a stark, but elegant office furnished in a modern Stonehenge motif. To the left of a cavernous corner spans a wet bar with pebble stools. A round bulbous couch and a granite coffee table are to the right of a pill-shaped credenza.
A neanderthal figurine crouches beside a stack of papers on the president's desk. Above it, the words "Mind Over Media" flash in neon at twenty second intervals. A bolt of neon illuminates the rigid 50-year-old president MR. BEALE. As Beale clenches his fists, the 27-year-old account executive AVERY DAY grips the knees of his grey linen trousers. The creases he straightens are, in his opinion, the source of Beale's agitation.
Beale hurls a stack of papers. Some fly, some drift, one shoots across and sticks to Day's forehead.
Day removes the page and inspects the headline.
SLOW PAN - "MAN'S EVERY DESIRE IS SUSIE HOMEMAKER'S COMMAND"
MR. BEALE
Your brain is in auto reverse, Day.
The same recording over and over...
AVERY DAY
I'm only trying to do my job.
MR. BEALE
You call 20 page proposals and long winded
diatribes "doing your job?"
AVERY DAY
It's unethical, sir. Her appearance is frightening.
MR. BEALE
We're a p.r. agency, not a salon in Paris.
You're an account executive, not a friggin'
philosopher. She's a robot, Day. Susie Homemaker
is a friggin' robot!
AVERY DAY
She...she's a genius with an enormous cleavage.
Beale's eyes dart back and forth between Day and the cavernous corner.
MR. BEALE
Susie?
Day fidgets nervously.
MR. BEALE
(continues)
Susie, honey...
A remarkably HUMAN-LIKE ROBOT glides through the opening of the "cave." It's SUSIE HOMEMAKER.
She cooks, cleans and sews but this Susie is more carnal. Her dominatrix boots give way to fishnet
hose and a black mini-skirt with a white lace apron. Her breasts are accentuated by a low cut blouse
with a collar that wraps around the nape of her neck. Those glassine eyes are penetrating. Her head,
however, is bald.
EXT. 57TH STREET - LATE AFTERNOON
Gridlock paralyzes the TRAFFIC. PEDESTRIANS populate the street like ant farms. CLOSE UP on 9 West 57th turns the highrise into an erector set, larger than life. A vertical PAN climbs the facade and stops at the 44th floor.
INT. MIND OVER MEDIA P.R. AGENCY
TRAVELING SHOTS through the smoked glass window reveal a stark, but elegant office furnished in a modern Stonehenge motif. To the left of a cavernous corner spans a wet bar with pebble stools. A round bulbous couch and a granite coffee table are to the right of a pill-shaped credenza.
A neanderthal figurine crouches beside a stack of papers on the president's desk. Above it, the words "Mind Over Media" flash in neon at twenty second intervals. A bolt of neon illuminates the rigid 50-year-old president MR. BEALE. As Beale clenches his fists, the 27-year-old account executive AVERY DAY grips the knees of his grey linen trousers. The creases he straightens are, in his opinion, the source of Beale's agitation.
Beale hurls a stack of papers. Some fly, some drift, one shoots across and sticks to Day's forehead.
Day removes the page and inspects the headline.
SLOW PAN - "MAN'S EVERY DESIRE IS SUSIE HOMEMAKER'S COMMAND"
MR. BEALE
Your brain is in auto reverse, Day.
The same recording over and over...
AVERY DAY
I'm only trying to do my job.
MR. BEALE
You call 20 page proposals and long winded
diatribes "doing your job?"
AVERY DAY
It's unethical, sir. Her appearance is frightening.
MR. BEALE
We're a p.r. agency, not a salon in Paris.
You're an account executive, not a friggin'
philosopher. She's a robot, Day. Susie Homemaker
is a friggin' robot!
AVERY DAY
She...she's a genius with an enormous cleavage.
Beale's eyes dart back and forth between Day and the cavernous corner.
MR. BEALE
Susie?
Day fidgets nervously.
MR. BEALE
(continues)
Susie, honey...
A remarkably HUMAN-LIKE ROBOT glides through the opening of the "cave." It's SUSIE HOMEMAKER.
She cooks, cleans and sews but this Susie is more carnal. Her dominatrix boots give way to fishnet
hose and a black mini-skirt with a white lace apron. Her breasts are accentuated by a low cut blouse
with a collar that wraps around the nape of her neck. Those glassine eyes are penetrating. Her head,
however, is bald.
