I Quit My Job, Directed by Wes Anderson

First, we’ll see me walking down an evenly split hallway in a long, lateral tracking shot. I am visibly sweaty, but am offered a glass of water by the doorman with a curly mustache. It is Edward Norton and he is overly polite.

Then, we’re going to see an eagle eye perspective of my boss’s desk, upon which a spread consisting of: a pastel blue stapler, a fountain pen resting near an ink well, a beignet resting on a cloth napkin, and a cup of coffee—black—will sit inside an open briefcase.

The shot will be divided in half as I walk through ornate, symmetrical double doors. Two children in sailors’ outfits will be sitting in antique wingback chairs on either side of the door. The one on the left will ask me, “Would you like a glass of water.” I say no. The other will ask, “Are you positive?” I say yes. Then they get up, salute me, and leave.

I will sit down in slow motion and my boss, who will be played by Bill Murray, of course, will scratch at his neck. I believe it to be caused by the thick, wool scarf he is wearing. He will pull a matchbox out of his corduroy jacket and light a pipe. 

Bill will ask me why I’m leaving. 

I will cough.

He will then get up from his desk to adjust a painting of a dog who looks strikingly like Willem Dafoe. It is then that I will notice my boss is not wearing pants, but short khaki shorts and long socks. 

I will say it is not for me anymore. 

He will take a large rubber stamp and press it onto my resignation letter, only we will see it as a transition card bearing the word: Farewell written in cursive. He will press a button on his desk and immediately there will be a knock at the door.

I will be escorted out of the building by Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson.

I will ride off of the dock on a tandem bicycle alone. The camera will pan out and Bill Murray will be watching me through a periscope. Folk music plays as the old building, which is a butter yellow submarine, will submerge and be never seen again.

Michael Bettendorf’s fiction has appeared in The Weird Reader, The Mark Literary Review, Brave Voices Magazine, Reckon Review, and elsewhere. Michael lives in Lincoln where he tries to convince the world that Nebraska is too strange to be a flyover state.  

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