INT. Massive foreboding-looking warehouse. DANNY, a casually-dressed, cocky young man of around twenty-five, swaggers in and enters a large room which only contains a table, chairs either side, a bottle of Scotch and one glass.
He sits at one side of the table. He waits,examining his fingernails.
Presently, HAROLD, a gruff-looking man in his senior years in a severe grey suit,emerges,wiping his brow and glasses with a handkerchief, and mumbling bitterly and incoherently. He sits down,seemingly oblivious to DANNY.
(Even longer pause).
HAROLD: Mmmmm hmmm.
HAROLD acknowledges DANNY for the first time.
HAROLD: Mmm hmmm… Yes?
DANNY: Yeah, mate… err… Mr. Pinter. I’m ‘ere abaaaht the job, yer knaaw? Part of Don? sweet as a nut, mate.
(Longer, almost excruciatingly uncomfortable pause).
HAROLD (Booming): Dooooon?!
DANNY (taken aback, somewhat chastened): Faaaahhhhck me… I came abaaaht the… howdoyacallit, role, innit. In yer… wotsit… play. Faaaaaaaaahhhhckin’ ‘ell, man, I…
HAROLD gets up and starts to pace around the room in a trance-like state. Suddenly, he stops and looks DANNY right in the eye, before emitting a shrill, strange hawk-like shriek of laughter.
DANNY is visibly disconcerted.
DANNY: Mate, I dunno waaht yer finking…
HAROLD (interrupting): You, young man, shall be Don’s nemesis. Dan, a taciturn young cur, I think. Always on the make. Once sexually rapacious, now impotent.
DANNY (now absolutely incandescent): Now, listen ‘ere, I ain’t playin’…
HAROLD (softer, passive-aggressive): Or I shall simply offer it to young Benedict. That odd-looking fellow. Posh young actor.
DANNY (now grovelling): Nah, nah, mate. It’s sweet as.
DANNY shakes HAROLD ‘s hand.
DANNY: Impotent. Gotcha. Fanks.
HAROLD (softer still, eerie): Mute. You shall portray him as mute, I have decided. Now, you may leave.
DANNY: Impotent. Mute. Sweet. It’s a… it’s a challenge. Fanks, Mr. Pinter. Fanks a lot. ‘Ere, I fought you was ‘arold Steptoe! I… Bye, then.
Visibly freaked-out, and badly shaken, DANNY gets up and tentatively closes the door behind him.
HAROLD sits for a minute, pauses briefly, then pours himself a large Scotch and laughs uproariously. He swigs lustily from the glass. Then he starts to sob softly, rocking from side to side.
*Please note- any resemblance to actor and famously tough guy Danny Dyer and genius, difficult playwright Harold Pinter is pure coinkydink*.