(We open on a conference room at CBS Sports studios, where Sean McManus is obviously getting ready to deliver bad news to someone. Several low- and mid-level flunkies are seated at varous places around the conference table, eating the free donuts, drinking coffee, and a few are even snickering)

Low Level Flunky: Heh… you think he has any idea he’s about to get dropped?

Intermediary Lickspittle: FUCK no! That idiot wouldn’t know he had to piss if his pants suddenly filled with urine. This is gonna be great.

Mid Level Bootlick: I don’t know… sometimes, he’s on top of things. Even gets some shit right from time to time.

(Both the Flunky and Lickspittle stop in mid-motion, looking at the Bootlick as though he’d grown a third eye)

Mid Level Bootlick: Hah! Just kidding. Jeez, guys, lighten up. (he reaches for another donut)

McManus: PUT THAT FUCKING DONUT DOWN! Carey will KNOW something’s up if he comes in here and finds all you jackasses stuffing your face with free donuts and laughing like hyenas.

Flunky: I don’t know about that, sir, he did say that Manning backward pass was incomplete. despite multiple monitors showing the exact opposi— (notices the look of rage on McManus’ face) — then again, maybe he just had a bad angle.

McManus: And where the fuck is he, anyway? You, sweetcheeks, go find him. (points at female intern who promptly jumps from her seat and goes off in search of Mike Carey)

Female College Intern, aka Sweetcheeks: “Sweetcheeks?” Three god damn years of multimedia communications, two semesters of sports journalism, fifteen fucking applications for internships at various levels of sports media, one hideous attempt at a lecherous invitation from Peter Fucking King, and this asshole calls me “sweetcheeks?” After this shit, I’m going back to detailing cars. At least that has some dignity…. (approaches the broadcast studios, hears someone around the corner)

Sweetcheeks: Oh, no frigging way…

(Interior, Mike Carey’s booth at CBS Studios, where he is standing and delivering a monologue to a camera that is turned off, unmanned, and facing away from him)

Mike Carey: And, as you can clearly see, Johnson had both feet in bounds, full control of the ball, and so this is clearly a catch.

Sweetcheeks: Uh, Mr. Carey?

Mike Carey: (spins, clearly caught off guard) What the hell are you doing here? Didn’t you see the red light? We are live, son! Tonight is the opening night of the NFL’s 2016 season!

Sweetcheeks: (pinches the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger) Uh, no, sir, we’re not. In fact, that’s next week, and you’re in the broadcast booth with all the equipment off. Also, Megatron retired, so even if we were live, no one would have any clue what the fuck you are talkin— never mind. Mr. McManus needs to see you in the West Conference Room immediately, sir. If you’ll follow me?”

(she turns to leave, and Carey begins pushing buttons, inadvertantly breaking into a live airing of Time to Schein)

Sweetcheeks: (sees what’s happened) Sir, you just broke into a live show. You need to turn these things off, now.

(Carey begins pushing buttons at random)

Mike Carey: Oh no! I’ve interrupted millions of viewers’ pleasure of watching the…. what show is this, anyway? What the hell is “Time to Schein?”

Sweetcheeks: It’s OK, sir, I’m sure the literal ones of people watching are probably more amused right now, anyway. I’ll turn this off, please head down to the West Conference Room.

(Mike leaves the room as she begins powering down equipment. Ten minutes later Sweetcheeks enters the West Conference room, to find a visibly agitated Sean McManus, various functionaries still eating the goddam donuts, and no Mike Carey)

McManus: Well? Where the fuck is he?

Sweetcheeks: What? I sent him down here ten minutes ago. You mean he never made it?

McManus: GO FUCKING FIND HIM!! When I send your dumb ass on a mission to find someone, you bring them the fuck back with you!! Jesus Christ, you interns are idiots! How the fuck can I FIRE him if I can’t even FIND him?!

(various snickering can be heard as Sweetcheeks goes beet red; she is obviously flustered and has no idea where Mike may be now)

Sweetcheeks: But, sir, I honestly have no idea where he might be at this point… I told him to come down here immediately!

McManus: Where did you tell him to go, exactly?

Sweetcheeks: Well, sir, I told him to come down here, to the West Conference room to see you as soon as he left the broadcast booth.

McManus: (thinking for a moment) OK. I know where that moron is, then.

(Interior, East Conference Room)