ATHLETIC DIRECTOR'S OFFICE, COLLEGE TOWN, USA – DAY

AD Todd Boyle sits behind his desk as his attractive assistant Rachel enters.

RACHEL: The next coaching candidate is out there.

AD BOYLE: I don’t have anything scheduled for today. No one worth a damn has returned my calls.

RACHEL: Yeah, I think he’s a walk in.

AD BOYLE: What?! We may be desperate, but we’re not interviewing people off the street.

RACHEL: Well, he’s pretty insistent. And a little off.

AD BOYLE: What’s his name?

Sam Ferguson bursts through the door. He’s in his late 30’s, but he looks much older. He wears a 1940’s style suit – complete with matching trench coat and fedora. He talks tough and he talks fast.

FERGUSON: The name’s Ferguson. Sam Ferguson. And I’ve got a good mind to belt you in the mouth for keeping me waiting out there.

AD Boyle and Rachel are speechless.

Editor’s note: Sam Ferguson was a hard workin’, hard drinkin’, hard livin’ man of the 1940’s. One night after a few pops, he passed out in the back of an ice truck. The driver, also a bit tipsy, careened off a bridge, plunging the truck into the depths of the Atlantic where it went into a deep freeze. Sixty years later, it thawed and rose to the surface, enabling Sam to swim to shore (I’m sure you’ve read about it – it was all quite remarkable). This modern world is strange and different to Sam, but he was always a tough guy, and tough guys don’t complain or ask questions. They get on with their lives.

Ferguson hands his hat and coat to Rachel.

FERGUSON: Take this, will ya doll?

RACHEL: Excuse me?

Ferguson strides to the chair facing AD Boyle’s desk.

AD BOYLE: It’s okay Rachel. I’ll handle this.

Rachel shoots Ferguson a dirty look and storms out.

AD BOYLE: I’m sorry, Mr. um…

FERGUSON: Ferguson. Sam Ferguson. Don’t make me say it again pallie, or I’ll split your lip.

AD BOYLE: Mr. Ferguson, I don’t know who you are, but I do know that behaving like this is no way to...

FERGUSON: Don’t tell me how to act fella. I was hangin’ peach baskets for Old Man Naismith while you were still in short pants.

AD BOYLE: Uh-huh. So you do have college coaching experience then?

FERGUSON: Well, sure I do. I’ve done it all, see. I’ve been a newspaper man; adman; gumshoe – you name it. I even ran whiskey in from Canada before I went off to fight the Krauts.

AD BOYLE: Yeah, let’s stick to the coaching for now. (Muttering to himself) Ugh, I can’t believe it’s come to this.

He takes a deep breath.

AD BOYLE: So, what’s your record?

FERGUSON: How the hell should I know? All I know is I run a tight ship. Anyone who steps out of line gets a pop in the nose.

AD BOYLE: You’re kidding me. And the school knows about this?

FERGUSON: Of course. If I’m the boss, mister, I’m sure gonna act like it. Say, where's your suit and tie anyway? Sleep off a rough night in the office did ya?

AD BOYLE: No, this office is business casual and...

FERGUSON: Yeah, probably brought one of them sorority broads back here last night, huh? Oh, sure, sure, I know how that…

AD BOYLE: Absolutely not! I would never…

FERGUSON: Yeah, wink, wink, I hear ya pallie. Hey, what’s the point of letting dames into school if…?

AD BOYLE: Let’s get back to your coaching achievements. Any league championships?

FERGUSON: We woulda had that one, but that lousy zebra blew the call. I gave him a knuckle sandwich to chew on for his trouble.

AD BOYLE: That is…disappointing to hear.

FERGUSON: Whaddaya got to drink back there anyway?

AD BOYLE: Um, I have a bottle of water.

FERGUSON: Bottled water? What are ya, going on safari?

AD BOYLE: I’m not so sure this is gonna...

FERGUSON: Ah, never mind the hooch kid. It's eleven a.m. and I've already had three highballs. If I hit four before noon, I’m liable to plow my De Soto through another drugstore window.

AD BOYLE: Jeez, when did that happen?! Was anyone hurt? You must have been arrested. Or at least fired.

FERGUSON: For what? I didn’t do nothin’ on purpose. I told you I was stinkin’ at the time.

AD BOYLE: Scot free on a DWI. That’s actually impressive. You must have had the support of some very powerful alumni.

FERGUSON: Psh, college boys helping Sam Ferguson? No sirree bub.

AD BOYLE: Oh. So, you don’t have a degree, then?

FERGUSON: Do I look like some egghead to you? And no player of mine is ever gonna sit in on no fruity-pants class either.

AD BOYLE: Alright, um, but you must have done something noteworthy with that program, right? There must have been a reason they kept you on after some of these…incidents.

FERGUSON: You betcha! They knew as long as Sam Ferguson was around, no matter how strong the temptation to win more games, there wouldn’t ever be no color…

AD Boyle nervously jumps to his feet.

AD BOYLE: Okay! I think it’s time for y…

FERGUSON: Coffee! Now, that’s just what I need. Get that girl of yours to bring some in.

AD BOYLE: No, I...

FERGUSON: Hey Sweetheart!

Rachel enters.

FERGUSON: Black with two sugars, huh. And take your time walking out of here. It's a pleasure to watch you go.

He winks at AD Boyle.

RACHEL: Todd!

AD BOYLE: Alright Mr. Ferguson, look...

FERGUSON: You let her call you by your first name? I'd bend her over my knee and spank her bottom blue if she tried that with me.

AD BOYLE: I think it's time for you to leave.

FERGUSON: Sure, I'll leave. I've got no use for an outfit like this. Or a dame like this.

Ferguson closes in on Rachel.

FERGUSON: I went with a broad like you before. Sure it'd be all hugs and kisses one minute and then before I knew it, you'd be running off with Doggie Julian.

RACHEL: Who's Doggie Julian?

FERGUSON: That's what they all say kid.

Ferguson pulls Rachel in for a passionate kiss. She hits him and squirms away.

RACHEL: Oh my God! Todd, call the police.

FERGUSON: Yeah, you call those coppers. Tell 'em Sam Ferguson says hello. They know where to find me.

With that, Ferguson struts out and slams the door.

RACHEL: Oh my goodness. Is he crazy? You wouldn’t hire him in a million years.

AD BOYLE: I know. He hasn’t won anything.