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Ripped By mstoll
This place is dead.
Not cold enough for propane, not hot enough for propane.
Goldilocks season, honey.
It'll pick up.
Propane may be a gas, but it's like a rock.
(laughs): Hey, Hank!
(lively music playing)
This fat guy was dancing... (laughs)
then he slipped!
If you think this is funny, you should see "funny cats."
(click, lively music playing)
(cat shrieking)
Donna, turn it off.
This is work. (click, music stops)
Sorry, Hank, but there's nothing to do here.
Have you done your expense reports?
(sighs)
Fine, I'll do the expense reports.
Hey, Hank, isn't that Pat Ritchie
coming out of Thatherton's?
It is.
Pat.
Oh. Hank. (chuckles)
I'm just, uh, you know, buying some, uh, propane.
From Thatherton.
Yeah.
I-I'm sorry.
I-I met him on MySpace.
W-what are you talking about?
Your house?
No, no, no, MySpace is on the Internet.
We-we chatted online, and, well, we became friends.
But we're friends.
We've been in business for a decade.
Yeah, but on MySpace you get to know someone real fast.
And it turns out, (engine starts)
Thatherton's as obsessed with Weezer as I am.
What's Weezer?
Exactly.
Bye, Hank.
(laughing)
STRICKLAND: Thatherton?!
Gotdang! I know Pat Ritchie cheats on his wife,
but I never thought he'd cheat on me!
Apparently, he communicated with Pat
on something called MySpace.
MySpace?!
He used MySpace?!
What is MySpace? What are we talking about here?
(sighs) I don't know, sir.
I think it's a cult.
Hmm-mm. It's a social networking site,
you know, on the Internet.
It makes socializing fun.
Well, we need to get Strickland on the Internet then ASAP!
But, sir, we already have a sell sheet to inform people.
Got to keep up with the times, Ol' Top.
(sighs)
Uh, Donna, can you put us on MySpace?
Yeah, I'd love to.
It sure beats the rest of the crap
I normally have to do around here.
Donna...
(pig snorting)
Pig?
Yeah! All right! (pig squealing)
You got me a Pig!
Bobby, get away from that thing.
That is not our pig.
(pig squealing, snorting)
Bobby, stay back!
You'll damage the nose!
Dale, why do you have a pig?
Nancy and I had dinner at That's Amore last night.
Nancy got some truffle shaved on her pasta, and it cost $30.
It was a good thing we got separate checks.
Anyway, I decided to rent myself a truffle-hunting pig,
so I could have as many truffles as I want.
Pigs can hunt?
Man, they keep getting cooler and cooler!
Count me in!
(snorting)
Please, Dale, let me get truffles with you.
I love truffles.
Okay, you can come with.
But you do know these aren't chocolate truffles, right?
Of course I know that.
I want the kind of truffles that we're talking about.
Have you guys heard of this MySpace?
Of course.
It's the best part of my life right now.
I don't understand it.
Why do you want to communicate with strangers?
Well, they may start out as strangers,
but then they become your friends.
Not the kind of friends that you hang out with,
but the kind that you type to when you're drunk.
Tell you what, man,
easy datin' on that dang ol' MySpace, man.
Put up my dang ol' college photo on there, man.
Yes, Boomhauer.
That's exactly why I like to deal with people in person.
That way, you know what you're getting.
Face-to-face interfacing is obsolete.
There's over 400 expressions that you can make
with symbols online.
You can only make two expressions
with your face, Hank.
Are you agreeing with me?
Are you happy? Are you sad?
I can't tell.
It's true.
Conversation is better on MySpace.
I reveal things about myself
that I could just never tell you guys.
Don't go to MySpace, Hank!
Enrique!
I'm Allen252 from MySpace.
Came to get that grill.
Hey!
I saw that picture of you in Cancun, man.
Do you think I would like scuba diving?
Allen252!
Man, get your butt over here.
Huh.
I guess this MySpace thing is really working.
We already have over 40 friends.
And I know most of them, so they're all really cool.
What's Joe Jack doing there?
Check it out.
(hip-hop music playing)
(laughs)
Joe Jack, huh? Who knew!
(whispering): Watch this one.
Whoo!
Dance with me!
Come on! I'm so drunk!
(laughs)
I was so drunk.
Donna, this is terrible.
This is no way to represent Strickland.
You think I'm just a number cruncher
and I can't do creative things.
Take this site down immediately before anyone else sees it.
(groans)
Donna, I was just on the MySpace.
It was so much fun!
And nothing attracts customers more than fun!
Thank you, Mr. Strickland.
But there's nothing on there about the propane
or the propane accessories.
Donna, I want you on MySpace duty full time.
I'm making you assistant manager of new media.
But-but I'm the assistant manager.
Well, now we got two.
Everyone,
now that I'm an assistant manager,
we're gonna take this place to a new level.
First order of business:
we need to add some new video to the site, so...
who wants to get kicked in the ding-dong?
I don't know why Strickland is on MySpace.
The whole thing is like a contest to see
who can make the biggest ass of themselves.
That's why it's so great.
I-I also love MySpace,
but I would never be on it as myself.
Online, I am Ted Danson.
People will tell Ted Danson anything.
Kahn is manic- depressive.
Morning, Donna.
Hey, who should we assign to make more coffee for us?
I'm thinking Melinda.
Slow down, Donna.
You've only been assistant manager for a day.
You'll find that leadership...
Hot dang, people!
We got ourselves over 500 friends!
(door opens)
Welcome to Strickland.
I'm Hank.
I'm actually here to buy propane from Joe Jack.
Right here.
Preferably one that you freaked.
I'm on it.
I'm pretty sure I gave this one the business, honey.
But just to be sure...
Whoo-haw!
(laughing)
Business is really picking up.
But at what cost?
There's no way that's your body.
You cut and pasted your face.
This woman has six-pack abs.
Count these.
Wow!
Look at Melinda's stomach.
It's amazing!
Melinda, no!
Pull down your shirt.
This is a workplace, so get back to work.
Hank, I need a picture for your profile.
Am I handsome?
Do hunters ask each other that question?
Time to go a-trufflin'.
(gasps) Dang.
I didn't know pigs could run like that.
It's a rental! After her!
This grill offers more than enough heat to do the job.
Hank, we need you to set up your profile.
Donna, I-I'm with a customer.
There's a billion potential customers online.
I think you need to deal with them first.
Get bloggin'!
(sighs)
Okay.
Donna will help you.
Okay, so you can help me?
Of course I can.
Log onto www.MySpace.com/strickprop.
You can post questions there.
Thank you.
(sighs)
"The new reverse thread on the dual intake portable propane
containers allows for..." Blah.
(sighs)
What is this?
Here, look at my page.
Maybe this will inspire you.
Good Lord, Donna!
Deep breaths, Ladybird.
Deep breaths.
Sure, Ladybird barks at me,
but she'll let any old riffraff in the backyard.
Peggy, I'm borrowing your dog to track down my pig.
If you'd like to borrow Joseph as collateral,
I'm okay with that.
When you bring her back, just hose her down.
Hose Joseph, too.
ENRIQUE: You told everyone
I'm a pro-pain in the neck!
You're a pro-pain in my neck!
You're one to talk, Enrique.
Your posts have offended everyone in this office.
Oh, please, Roger, you're just mad about those pictures.
No, my wife's mad about those pictures!
I was 30 days sober!
Everyone, stop fighting!
DONNA: Hank's right.
Save it for your blogs.
No, our customers don't need to know about this.
This is exactly what the customers want to know about.
Hank, you don't understand how "the world works" anymore.
You don't get my generation.
We're the same age.
You just can't deal with the fact that I'm your equal now.
And as an assistant manager,
I'm gonna ask you for the last time
to blog.
Fine, Donna, you want me to blog what I'm thinking?
I'll blog what I'm thinking.
Good. Finally.
Donna is an idiot.
Post
Thank you, Hank.
I'm sure my 4,000 friends will find that very interesting.
Oh, that's supposed to scare me, huh?
Are your 4,000 friends going to come out of the computer
and get me?
The people are not really in the computer, Hank.
That would be like Poltergeist.
Ladybird'll find that pig.
She can find anything.
She has dug up every one of my goldfish we buried.
Ladybird is an amazing animal.
We probably don't even need that stupid pig.
(barks)
I bet Ladybird could find the truffles.
Ladybird finds the truffles and we cut out the middleman,
or in this case the middle pig.
Bill, that's brilliant.
Thanks, Dale.
That means a lot.
Now, we just need to introduce Ladybird
to the scent of truffles.
This food looks amazing.
You look amazing.
Would you like some truffle shaved on your pasta?
Of course.
This night is about trying new things.
Remember this smell.
And while you're at it, get a whiff of the wine.
There's money in that, too.
Morning, Hank.
Donna, we should probably talk about what happened yesterday.
Oh, Hank, what's done is done.
It's a new day.
Let's just move on.
Well, all right.
Well, look at that. It's almost 10:00 already.
What is going on out there?
It's called a flash mob.
My 4,000 friends don't think I'm an idiot.
Hot dang, look at all these people.
We got enough propane to supply all y'all.
That must be Hank!
Get him!
(stammering)
(screams)
Good Lord.
(groaning)
I can't believe this happened.
Donna, you're fired.
What? You can't fire me, Hank.
This is your fault.
I need supervision.
It is in all of my reviews.
Shut up, Donna.
You're fired.
Unbelievable.
Well, you haven't seen the last of me.
(door opens)
You'll pay.
You'll all pay!
(groans)
Well, the Strickland MySpace page is gone.
Now, if you want to see Melinda drunk,
you got to go to the Chimney Sweep after 5:00.
Thank you, Roger.
Now we can finally get back to work.
(heavy metal playing) STRICKLAND: What in the Sam Hill?
Uh-oh, it's back.
Rogen
I thought you took this down.
I did, Hank.
Someone must have put it back.
Strickland is no good!
Do not buy from Strickland!
Their propane is bad!
Turn it off.
Donna changed the password.
She controls the Strickland site now.
(buzzing)
Unplug it.
That ain't going to stop it.
Her powers are growing, honey.
We got to get a hold of Donna and talk some sense into her.
She's not in the company directory.
Donna was supposed to update it, but I don't think she did.
What did Donna do around here?
Buck, where did you send her paychecks?
I paid her in cash.
It was... simpler.
Well, someone's got to know where she lives.
I mean, she had that contest...
You know, the sleeping over.
Oh, hell, I don't remember.
I was trashed.
Stoned, honey.
Death to Strickland!
Sure, Donna was a little lazy at work,
but she was never like this.
Maybe Ted Danson can talk some sense into her.
He has a way with the ladies.
(mumbles)
Ted's in.
I agree with you
about Strickland, baby.
They are the worst, toots.
(reading): Hello, Hank, and good-bye.
Mm, she's good.
Well, if we can't reach her through a new friend,
maybe we can use an old one.
Let's try...
Pete E Pete.
He looks normal.
Oh, God.
Okay.
How about... this?
No.
Ugh.
Baah!
Ugh!
Can this stuff hurt our computer?
All that's left are her blogs.
Maybe if you read them,
you can find something that will help locate her.
Dear God, she's written every day
for the last four years.
No wonder she never got any work done at Strickland.
I'll make some coffee.
DONNA: And he was a jerk
for not letting me use the full service pump for self-service.
So I said, "If you want to play that game,
your eggs count as 12 items,
so you're in the wrong line, too, bitch."
A grande is only a little bigger than a tall.
Dogs are cool, but cats are the coolest.
(yawning): Anything?
(sighs)
No.
There's absolutely no information here.
Why don't you come to bed, Hank?
(sighing): I'm gonna try to get through another month.
This year I'll probably start wearing tons of purple.
BILL AND BOBBY: ? Goin' on a truffle hunt?
? Gonna find some juicy ones.?
Wingo, she's found something.
Back, Ladybird, back.
I can't let the dog eat it.
Bill, you finish the dig.
(Bill humming)
But don't eat it.
(grunting)
(gasps)
Is it? A truffle!
Hold on. Let me verify.
Huh.
Wait a minute.
It's got blue and purple splotches.
(sniffs)
And it smells iffy.
I think it's a magic mushroom.
(gasps) No!
What's happening to it?
I think this pig is tripping.
(oinking)
Hang in there, rental pig.
Stay focused on me.
You're with friends.
This is a safe place.
Anything?
No, and I'm up to her last week.
And it's so weird that what I want changes every day,
like today I think I want a baby,
but I'm not going to tell David that at our date on Friday.
He's taking me to Goobersmooches.
OMG, fancy.
Maybe I'll forget to take the pill, winky smiley face, JK.
I'm going to wear a purple lace bra...
Wait a minute.
I've got something.
She's got a date at Goobersmooches on Friday.
That's today. I know where it is.
Follow me.
Uh, we all know where it is, Enrique.
The date's tonight.
We'll go after work.
I-I wanted to go now.
There she is, at the burger bar.
I'm heading to the fruit salad
to make this burger Hawaiian-style.
(laughs)
David, you're so funny.
Donna.
What the hell?
What is this, Hank, your pathetic flash mob?
No, Donna, we're your coworkers and we want to talk to you.
So blog me.
No, we're real people
and we're here to do this face to face.
Oh, well, um, okay.
Now, then, would you like to tell me why you're so angry?
I, um, just, uh...
(sniffles)
...felt like I wasn't taken seriously at work.
You never gave me anything to do.
You had plenty to do, and you never did it.
Because you only gave me the boring stuff.
But you're an accountant.
What the hell you think you were gonna do?
I don't know.
Design stuff?
I'm creative.
Well... maybe you could have figured out
some way to use that.
Like, I know where you can get oven mitts
that look like puppets,
and I have lots of other ideas, too.
Donna, we could have worked everything out
if we just talked about things
instead of attacking each other behind a computer.
Strickland Propane is a family, and like a family,
we shouldn't know each other's inner thoughts.
That's what's so creepy about MySpace.
Donna, just come back to work, huh,
and take down that mean ol' site.
I'll see y'all Monday morning.
Aloha.
What's going on here?
David, listen, I was only dating you
because I thought I needed money,
but I just got my job back, so...
(chuckles nervously)
I'm an alligator.
I eat hot things to protect hands.
(laughs)
Hank, I'm just about done
reconfiguring the Strickland page.
Hey, that's my sell sheet.
But I don't know if that needs to be flashing.
Sure thing, boss.
(kisses)
(Enrique laughing)
DONNA: Who wants to get kicked in the ding-dong?
Ripped By mstoll
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