"Integrity" Bank:
(Wash, Rinse, Repeat)
Synopsis
Welcome to the great farce of the centennial. The Old
Heritage Bank, the latest jewel of the "Anglo-Saxon tradition" in a small
town in Los Angeles, celebrates one hundred years of supposed integrity. As Director
Arthur P. Wheaton prepares to read his Memoir (written by his exhausted accountant,
Garrity), chaos erupts. A Malibu customer demands a $3 million loan for her dog,
and an elderly woman, Nastasia Higginbotham, insists on depositing thousands of
pennies, one by one. Just as Garrity loses his mind and starts throwing copper in
the air, Director Wheaton learns the truth: his bank is not just a "jewel,"
but a "washing machine." It turns out that the legendary "San Francisco
Cartel" is not Mexican, but a group of Ku Klux Klan renegades who, allied with
the Russian and Italian mafias, use the bank to launder money. Reputation crumbles
and managers flee out the window. As if that were not enough, the news of a hostile
takeover by the "Sino-Irish" Sino-Hibernian corporation arrives. Wheaton
and his employees, besieged by a mob of customers and Nastasia's sons-in-law who
want to recoup every penny, must decide whether to defend their "tradition"
or join the international "cleansing." San Francisco Cartel: It's a wash.
C H A R A C T E R S
- ARTHUR P. WHEATON: Director of "Old Heritage Bank."
Wearing a three-piece suit and an American flag pin. Obsessed
with "tradition" and his own image.
- GARRITY: The head bookkeeper. Hasn't slept in 72
hours. He has a nervous tic and smells faintly of valerian drops.
- TIFFANY: Wheaton’s socialite wife (or a VIP client).
Extremely talkative, superficial, and convinced the world revolves around
her dog’s "spiritual aura."
- MRS. HIGGINBOTHAM: An elderly woman who claims to be "weak
and defenseless" but possesses the stubbornness of a bulldozer.
- THE BOARD MEMBERS: Five men in tuxedos, looking like they
stepped out of a 1920s country club.
S E T T I N G
An opulent office in a
small-town bank on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Golden "100"
balloons are everywhere. A banner reads: "A Century of Anglo-Saxon
Integrity."
GARRITY. — (Alone, furiously punching a calculator) Ninety-nine
million... one hundred million... and I’m still short one cent! Three nights
without sleep, my gout is screaming, and the air conditioning sounds like a
swarm of angry bees. Now the Boss wants the balance sheet to read like
"financial poetry" for the toast. If one more person walks through
that door, I swear I’ll use this letter opener for more than just mail!
WHEATON. — (Enters radiantly, practicing a speech in the mirror)
"Friends, citizens... one hundred years of integrity. Old Heritage Bank is
the last bastion of decency in this town..." (To Garrity) Is the
report ready? The Centennial Commission arrives in ten minutes! Reputation is
everything, Garrity!
GARRITY. — Reputation is going to
the dogs if people don't stop coming in. By the way, there’s a rumor in the
teller line... they say the FBI is circling the building because of the
"San Francisco Cartel."
WHEATON. — (Laughs hysterically) The San Francisco Cartel?
Nonsense! Cartels are Mexican, they wear sombreros and show up in Netflix
series. We are a local bank, white and pure as milk. It’s just a prank from the
competition!
TIFFANY. — (Bursting in with a tiny handbag) Arthur! Darling!
Happy Anniversary! You have to approve my three-million-dollar loan right now.
I met a shaman in Malibu who will fix my villa. Oh, hi Garrity! Why do you look
like a pickled cucumber?
GARRITY. — (Gritting his teeth) Because I am counting...
numbers... madam.
MRS. HIGGINBOTHAM. — (Drags in a burlap sack that clinks with metal) Is this
where they help the poor widow? I’m Nastasia Higginbotham. My late husband left
me a lot of money and I’ve come to deposit this. (She starts dumping thousands
of copper pennies onto Wheaton’s mahogany desk).
WHEATON. — Madam! We are in the
middle of a centennial! We cannot count pennies now!
MRS. HIGGINBOTHAM. — I’m a weak, defenseless
woman! I came by bus, my varicose veins are throbbing, and the coffee gave me
heartburn. I just want to deposit my little money. Count them! Count them! It’s
my legal right!
GARRITY. — (Screaming) There is no legal right that forces me to
count copper in the middle of a nervous breakdown!
STAFF MEMBER. — (Enters pale) Sir! The news! They say the San Francisco
Cartel isn't Mexican... They’re renegades from the Ku Klux Klan who teamed up
with the Russian Mafia for the algorithms and the Italians for the logistics!
And they say this bank is their main laundromat!
WHEATON. — (Agitated) The KKK? The Russians? But that’s a criminal
melting pot! Impossible! Our Anglo-Saxon tradition forbids laundering money
with foreign methods! We use offshore accounts in the Bermudas like gentlemen!
TIFFANY. — Arthur, forget the
Russians! The shaman says the loan must be in cash... Oh, look at the shiny
coins the grandma has!
STAFF MEMBER 2. — New rumor! The bank has
just been acquired by the "Sino-Hibernian" corporation! We are now
owned by a Chinese-Irish firm!
WHEATON. — (Clutches his head) Sino-Hibernian? This is the end!
Mixing green tea with whiskey in my ledgers! Our identity is lost! Garrity, get
those pennies off my desk!
GARRITY. — (Losing his mind, starts throwing pennies into the air)
Zero! Zero! Everything is zero! I am capable of a crime! Get out of here, you
crazy women! (He starts chasing Tiffany and Mrs. Higginbotham with an abacus).
MRS. HIGGINBOTHAM. — Help! They’re stealing my
pennies! Son-in-law! Kevin! Bring the boys!
(The CENTENNIAL COMMISSION enters—five serious
men with a silver vase—just as Wheaton is trying to hide Mrs. Higginbotham
under the desk).
CHAIRMAN. — "Dear Arthur... one
hundred years of transparency..."
WHEATON. — (Sobbing) The commission! The reputation! The
occupation! We’re closing! The bank is closed! Go home! We’re Chinese! We’re
Irish! We’re in the cartel!
AGITATED CLIENT. — (Runs in) I want my money! I heard you’re bankrupt!
Give me my 500 dollars! I just need 500 for rent, let’s negotiate!
MRS. HIGGINBOTHAM. — (From the floor) I want my coins! Give me back my
pennies one by one! Count them in front of me!
WHEATON. — (Delirious, as staff members fight over the silver vase)
"Once... two friends were walking... having a very serious conversation
about money laundering..." Water! Valerian drops for everyone!
(Mrs. Higginbotham’s sons-in-law and a mob of
clients burst in. The Commission flees through the window with the vase.
Garrity faints onto a mountain of pennies).
C U R T A I N
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