INT. SKYSCRAPER – BOARD ROOM – CLOUDY LATE AFTERNOON
The room is full of executive-types wearing suits. JENKINS stands before them, giving a presentation, artist rendering laid against a whiteboard along the wall. All eyes are on him.
So, it’s like a ballsack, but for your truck!
Some of the suited men murmur. A few look at each other and slightly nod their heads.
(with more confidence)
I call them ‘Testicars.’ The idea is that you can hang them from the front of your car to intimidate people when they look in the mirror and see you behind them.
SULLY, a man with an immaculately cut suit, stands and looks at Jenkins with narrowed eyes.
(angry, slightly raised voice)
Jenkins, this is a terrible idea, even for you. Worse than the Bike Boobs. No one wants tits on their bike, just like no one wants balls on their car. You’re such a fucking moron.
Jenkins hangs his head, a defeated look on his face. His partner, JEFFRIES, stands and points at Sully.
Now wait just a minute, Sully. As usual, you run your mouth before you know all the facts! These aren’t just some crudely made scrota, these are cast in a mold made from a Brahma bull. Two men died getting the bull’s imprint.
One man in the room gasps. Another laughs and makes a poor attempt to act like it’s a cough.
Not only that, but this product performed strongly in several focus groups, particularly among the 24-39 rural male demographic. We think the product will perform well on the market.
Sully looks cross, like he’s been told he’s been signed up to volunteer at a soup kitchen or adopt a stray animal.
Yes, I’m sure high school dropouts will be lining up to buy something called ‘Testicars.’ I still say it’s a stupid idea. You could at least give it a better name.
How about ‘Truck Nuts?’ It’s vulgar and also plays up the idea that trucks are masculine.
That could actually work… But what if we put a ‘Z’ on the end? Makes it more edgy. And they should hang off the back, maybe from the trailer hitch.
Heads nod in agreement. Excited whispers echo across the table. Several of them look toward the head of the table, where THE BOSS sits.
Well, what do you think, sir?
Billings, give Jenkins and Jeffries a quarter million dollar advance to split for their brilliant idea! Give a million to Sully for being a hardass and giving the product a name that’s not total shit.
Collins opens his mouth as if to protest, but thinks better of it when he notices the glares from half of the men seated around the table.
THE BOSS (CONT’D)
Notify the rubber casters in Malaysia that we’ll need an initial run of eighteen million, enough to cover the Dixie states. Those rednecks are gonna go… nuts.