Saw V-2: Luba Gibbs: Memoirs of a True Pimptress: Volume 1: Uncut (Well-Sorta)
A MAN WALKS THROUGH A LONG OFFICE CORRIDOR, A FOLDER IN HIS HAND. THE CAMERA ZOOMS AROUND TO REVEAL HIS FACE. IT IS JOHN. HE STOPS IN FRONT OF A SECRETARY.
John: Hello. I'm here for my appointment with Luba Gibbs. We have a meeting regarding a building permit for my Urban Renewal Group.
Secretary: Yes. Please have a seat.
JOHN SITS DOWN AS THE SECRETARY PAGES LUBA GIBBS, MISTRESS PIMP EXTRORDINARE.
Secretary: Ms. Gibbs?
(THROUGH INTERCOM) Luba: What up?
Secretary:...A Mr....umm hold on.
LOOKS AT JOHN.
Secretary: I'm sorry, what was your name again?
John: It's John Kramer. I come from a strong proud heritage of-
Secretary: Thank you, that's all the information I need.
John: Pssh. Nobody ever wants to hear my story.
THE SECRETARY PRESSES THE BUTTON AGAIN, PAGING LUBA GIBBS, THE ONE AND TRUE PIMP.
Secretary: A Mr. John Kramer is here to see you.
Luba: For what?
Secretary: For...a building permit? What else do we do around here?
Luba: Listen G'. Don't be tryna act like you somethin special. That's why you the bitch at the front desk, pressing buttons and ordering my lattes and shit.
Secretary: ...Yes Ms. Gibbs...I apologize. I don't know what I was thinking.
Luba: Clearly not much. Anyways, send that mo' fuckah in.
JOHN LOOKS ENRAGED, FOLDING HIS ARMS AND TILTING HIS HEAD TO THE SIDE.
Secretary: Uh..Ms. Gibbs...
THE INTERCOM PLAYS STATIC FOR A LITTLE WHILE, AS THOUGH LUBA IS LOOKING FOR THE WORDS TO SAY.
Luba: I'm on speaker...aren't I?
Secretary:..Yes...yes you are Ms. Gibbs.
Luba: Please send that kind gentleman right away.
JOHN RAISES FROM HIS SEAT, APPROACHING THE SECRETARY.
John: Is..this how all the staff are on a daily basis?
Secretary: Oh no Mr. Kramer, Ms. Gibbs just hasn't had her morning coffee yet.
John: Morning coffee? LOOKS AT WATCH. But, it's almost four in the afternoon.
Secretary: My point exactly. Just proceed to the last door on the left.
John: Thank you.
JOHN WALKS DOWN THE HALLWAY, REACHING THE DOOR. HE OPENS IT TO REVEAL A MAN SITTING ON A TOILET BOWL.
Man: Hey!
John: Oh my! I'm sorry! SLAMS DOOR SHUT.
Secretary: Oh my god! I meant the door or YOUR left, sorry about that.
John: It's...quite alright.
JOHN APPROACHES THE DOOR AND HEARS MUSIC BLASTING REALLY LOUD. HE CAN MAKE OUT THE LYRICS, 'CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP. CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP. CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP WITH A SODA ON THE SIDE.'
John: Who eats chicken noodle soup...with a soda on the side?
THE MUSIC DIES DOWN AND LUBA ANSWERS THE DOOR.
Luba: Hello Mr. Kramer, welcome to my office.
John: Please Miss, you can call me John.
Luba:...Right. Come on in Mr. Kramer.
JOHN STARES HER DOWN FOR A SECOND BEFORE SITTING IN HIS SEAT. RIGHT AWAY, ONE OF THE WHEELS WOBBLES AND THE SEAT NEARLY BREAKS.
Luba: Sorry about that, some of my more heavy set customers like to sit there.
John: That's...nice. I guess.
Luba: Yeah. They just don't know their own strength. Anyways, we spoke on the phone about your Urban Renewal Group. It sounds like a wonderful idea, filled with hope, positivity, and all that other shit.
John: Pardon me?
Luba: Oh nothing. I just love your cause.
John: Oh you do? Finally somebody who wants to hear my story. What in particular do you like about my group?
JOHN EXCITEDLY WAITS FOR A RESPONSE. LUBA STARES INTO THE WALL BEHIND, TRYING TO REMEMBER SOMETHING.
Luba: What was it about again?
JOHN'S JAW DROPS SLOWLY, UNABLE TO BELIEVE THIS WOMAN IS A PROFESSIONAL. THE ROOM GOES SILENT. THE ONLY NOISE COMES FROM THE FISH TANK ON THE WALL IN THE OFFICE, BUBBLES RISING TO THE SURFACE MUCH LIKE JOHN'S ANGER. LUBA, UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE SILENCE, KNOCKS HER GLASS OF WATER OVER ON PURPOSE.
Luba: Whoops, clumsy me. I'd better clean that up.
John: Wait a minute, we must discuss my permit. I need it.
Luba: Straight to the negotiations then are we?
John: Negotiations...?
Luba: Yes.
JOHN SCRATCHES HIS HEAD, TRYING TO UNDERSTAND.
John: You'll have to forgive me Miss, I don't quite follow you.
Luba: *cough*money*cough*
John:...what?
Luba: *cough**cough*cash*cough**cough*
John: Are you alright?
Luba:...I'm fine. *cough**cough**cough*Itakebribes*cough**cough**cough*
John: Oh no no no, this simply cannot be the truth. Did you just suggest that I give you a bribe? That's against the law. It's illegal.
Luba: You know what, I'm not feeling too well, I'm feeling a bit sick, I think you should leave before you get it too.
LUBA HURRIES HIM OUT OF HIS SEAT, WHICH WOBBLES AGAIN, PUSHING HIM TOWARDS THE DOOR AS SHE FAKE-COUGHS HYSTERICALLY.
John: But what about my building permit?
Luba: COUGHING THROUGHOUT HER SENTENCE, I'll take a look at it sir, and call you once I make any progress.
John: O-okay. Thanks for your time.
Luba: It's no problem. I'm just trying to help this city be a better place.
LUBA CLOSES THE DOOR AND TAKES HIS APPLICATION TO HER DESK. ON THE DESK IS AN APPLICATION FOR A NEW NAIL SALON. SMIRKING, SHE TAKES JOHN'S FOLDER AND RUNS IT THROUGH THE SHREDDER UNDERNEATH HER DESK. SHE LOOKS AT THE NAIL SALON APPLICATION AND FLIPS THROUGH THE CONTENTS.
Luba: This place is about to be my new joint.
MEANWHILE, JOHN STANDS OUTSIDE LUBA'S DOOR UNSURE OF WHAT JUST HAPPENED. SHAKING HIMSELF OUT OF HIS THOUGHTS, HE TURNS AROUND AND IS FACING THE BATHROOM DOOR, WHERE THE MAN WAS. HE THEN HEARS A FART.
CUT TO: OUTSIDE, JOHN WALKS UP TO A CAR WITH A YOUNG WOMAN INSIDE. SHE IS WEARING SUNGLASSES, EVEN THOUGH IT'S NOT BRIGHT OUT. SHE REMOVES THEM AND THE CAMERA REVEALS IT TO BE AMANDA *CUE AMANDA'S THEME SONG FROM SAW III AS SHE TOSSES HER HAIR AROUND IN SLOW MOTION*
Amanda: So how did it go?
John: SHAKING HIS HEAD, Remind me to test that bitch.