“What’s that?” asked Roman, peering over his shoulder. “If it’s a spec script for Hard Sci-Fi Quarterly , I have notes.”

“I left it in that dumpster on purpose. It was a test. I’m launching a new platform: CaterCore — streaming for hospitality workers. I need hosts. You, Roman, the unhinged older woman with the confetti. Come pitch me at 2 p.m. Don’t be late. And Henry?”

“That death scene? Weak. We’re reshooting it.”