Dark stage; A hanging lamp (interrogation room style) is turned on by M; center stage, addressing audience.
Imagine this: you wear a tailored Armani suit. From the Fall 2009 Collection. In 2008. Imagine your shoes cost enough to feed a family of 6 in Burundi for three years. Imagine that these shoes can't be worn in most developed nations without the World Wildlife Federation protesting on your every step. Imagine the holidays are a nightmare because you have to decide which of your 3 summer houses you'd rather spend it at. Imagine you throw in a couple of yachts into the equation. Imagine having 8 bank accounts. Imagine 5 accountants slaving over your books for those accounts. Imagine 2 more Swiss accounts that only you slave over. Imagine a life without family ties. Imagine never having to make a reservation. Ever. Imagine a private jet flight halfway across the world is more common than a drive to the grocery store. Imagine having all of this by the time you're 28. I'd imagine you'd be pretty satisfied with your life. Now imagine you're not. Imagine you hate everyone around you. Imagine you've been faking a smile for so long you even fool yourself sometimes. Imagine even you're not sure what your real name is. Imagine your longest relationship lasted 10 days. Imagine it ended because, as you found out, there are things even hookers won't do. Imagine feeling like the only moment of true, uncensored, orgasmic bliss could come by putting a bullet between the eyes of the people you hate the most. By your standards, just about every person on the planet qualifies. Now imagine you get to. (Lights up on a man, bound, gagged, and blindfolded sitting DR in boxers and an undershirt. Addressing the man) Imagine you get paid to. Imagine not knowing where the orders come from or who writes your checks, just imagine a stranger walking up to you with a manila envelope with 2 numbers on it: yours, 2619M; and a date. Imagine the date represents an expiration date: either theirs (your target) or your own. Imagine having to make that choice: kill of be killed. For you, I imagine, this could present some sort of moral dilemma. Now imagine you never learned the meaning of moral. (M takes out a gun and attaches a silencer) Can you picture all of that? Nod if you have a good mental image of the kind of person you'd be. (the seated figure nods) Good. I wanted you to know me. It seemed only fair.
M points the gun at the figure, pulls the string to turn the lamp off. Blackout.