Dare to Dream: A Short Play About A.I.

A few months back, people at my work started using ChatGPT. In the span of about two months, we went from "hey, this could be useful, go ahead and explore!" to "our usage bills are out of control, please stop using AI!" to "actually, the tool was the problem – Claude is where it's at!"

As with any AI-related tool, I remain unmoved. Actually, that's not quite right: I'm more committed than ever to subtly undermining them every chance I get. I'm no great influencer, but I'd like to think little jabs here and there have helped pump the collective brakes on AI adoption in my office.

With that in mind, and in the spirit of my under-appreciated one-act play, I wrote another quick scene about a totally fictional tech CEO at a totally fictional company. Any resemblance to any person(s) is purely unintentional and coincidental. (You can't see me right now but I'm winking at you.)

Anyway, please enjoy my short play "Dare to Dream" (working title):

INT. BOARDROOM – DAY
We open with an overhead shot of an ornate and egregiously long boardroom table. It seems to stretch on infinitely. Posted around the table are what look from overhead like clones, all styled, dressed, and groomed identically. The room's grandeur is matched only by its emptiness – this is a tremendous waste of space, seemingly designed to simply look impressive to passersby.

At the head of the boardroom sits THATCHER DAVENPORT, CEO of Hexel Enterprises. While his subordinates all wear mostly monochromatic tones, Thatcher is dressed in a crimson three-piece suit, with a slick black tie and several gold accents. He would not look out of place at a Dracula look-a-like contest, if Dracula was a gaudy asshole.

The mood in the room is tense; the air feels significantly more frigid than the thermostat suggests. Thatcher sits with one leg crossed over the other, occasionally stroking his immaculately-shaved goatee with one hand and swirling a glass of blood red wine in a beautiful crystal glass with the other. Everyone else is too afraid to speak first out of some unspoken-but-shared fear of reprisal.

THATCHER
Six hundred and forty two.

The men around the table hang on every word, scanning for any hint of context or subtext they can find without needing to speak up. Some mouth the words to themselves as though an answer will appear from the ether.

THATCHER (CONT'D)
Six hundred. And forty. Two.

Finally, one brave – or foolish – soul responds.

JACKSON
Is that number significant in some way, sir?

The rest of the room is simultaneously relieved that JACKSON JENKINS, MBA, has broken the silence ... and mortified that he's broken the silence. Thatcher shifts slightly in his direction.

THATCHER
I suppose that depends on how one defines 'significant,' doesn't it?

Thatcher sets his wine glass down. He slowly pushes off the armrests of his chair and rises to his full height. He casts an intimidating presence, all 6'7'' of his frame taking up significant space even in such a massive room. The men at the table reflexively recoil as Thatcher begins to pace.

THATCHER (CONT'D)
If I told you to pick up, say ... 642 grains of sand from the beach. That would hardly be significant. But if I told you I accidentally ran one of my 642 yachts ashore on a sandbar, suddenly it feels very significant.

SAXON
Uhh ...

ASHTON
Is that a hypothetical, or ... ?

BRAXTON
Do you actually have that many yachts?

SAXON SARKOZY, ASHTON ANDERSON-ANDERSEN, and BRAXTON BRAXTON all chime in, trying to deftly balance their political ass-kissery with genuine confusion about where this is going. They are not managing it well.

THATCHER
So when the board tells me that we've spent $642 million on development, market testing, advertising and awareness for our new AI launch, and then you all tell me the return on that investment has been zero sales and a -89% net approval rating ... then you tell me: Does that sound 'significant' to any of you?

Everyone around the table panics internally. One guy even cries a little bit. I won't name names, but it rhymes with 'Flaxen.'

SAXON
Sir, the data has been clear from the start: The public simply isn't ready for a product this revolutionary!

BRAXTON
It's not our fault people are Luddites. Hexel Enterprises is the future!

Everyone around the table echoes in unison – sadly, sycophantically, but nicely harmonized.

TABLE
The fuuuuuture!

THATCHER
I hate it when you do that.

ASHTON
We've run the numbers, we've done the focus testing, I mean ... what more can we possibly do, sir?

THATCHER
You can stop lying to me! All of you!

Thatcher slams his fist on the table. His glass of wine is knocked over in the process. Little pieces of crystal mix with the remnants of the wine creating a beautiful – albeit messy – slurry.

THATCHER (CONT'D)
If I wanted a room full of people to sit around washing my balls for an hour I'd go back to AA. What I want is for you idiots to tell me the goddamn truth. Our AI is so advanced it can predict cancer in babies that aren't even born to couples that aren't even dating. It wrote a sequel to 'Hamilton' that made Lin-Manuel Miranda cry for four hours. Its roasted Branzino recipe is so good, Eric Ripert took one bite and killed himself. It practically knows the future!

TABLE
The fuuuuuture!

THATCHER
Argh! What am I missing?

The four product executives exchange nervous glances with each other.

JACKSON
You ... want to know what we think?

Thatcher glowers in Jackson's direction, although he really intends it for the whole room. And the world at large, for that matter.

THATCHER
Jackson, the last time someone was truly honest with me was the day my wife told me she was having an affair with our housekeeper.

JACKSON
If I may, sir: Maybe it's a reciprocity thing. When's the last time you were honest with her?

THATCHER
When I told her that I was too.

Everyone sits briefly awed. You included, reader.

THATCHER (CONT'D)
The fact is, we're underwater here. The board wants answers – and you four are, somehow, the most qualified people in the building to provide them. No one leaves this room until we solve this. Understood?

All four nod. This is as open an invitation as they're likely to get.

SAXON
Okay, well ... there's a feeling in the building – well, in some circles, anyway – that there's a tiny chance – really more of an inkling, I guess you'd say, if even that –

Braxton can't help himself anymore. Frankly, I don't blame him.

BRAXTON
The name sucks.

Finally someone says what's actually on their mind. Because this is a work of fiction, Thatcher will now ask Braxton to elaborate rather than calling him "a negative person and bad culture fit" and firing him on the spot. Corporate America's so cool.

THATCHER
The name? What's wrong with the name?

ASHTON
It's uh ...

JACKSON
It's a little ...

SAXON
Kind of evocative of ...

BRAXTON
Jesus, it's called the D-Reamer!

A beat. In such a cavernous space, the words really bounce around in there. It's like ... I don't know, acoustic science or whatever. I don't care.

THATCHER
You mean the Dreamer.

BRAXTON
With a hyphen between the "D" and the "reamer" parts?

THATCHER
To signify the bridge between dreams and reality, fully connected by our AI.

SAXON
I didn't read it like that.

ASHTON
No one made us stylize it like that.

JACKSON
If I want my "D" reamed, I've got two perfectly good hands and one moderately good girlfriend.

SAXON
Yeah, same! Wait, what?

THATCHER
Jesus Christ. You people are children. Nobody actually thinks like this.

BRAXTON
How much focus group footage have you seen?

THATCHER
None, but the readouts were glowing. Why?

BRAXTON
You uh ... might want to watch this.

Braxton grabs his phone and pulls up a clip from a recent focus group. We don't see the scene but we do hear the audio. Use your imaginations! It's a short play! Wheeee!

MODERATOR (O.S.)
Okay, let's start with some first impressions. Let's go around the room and everyone give your initial thoughts on the product, and let's try to limit it to 1-2 sentences. We'll start with you at the end, sir. Go ahead.

MAN 1
Yeah, uh, it seems pretty cool, but will it actually do it?

MODERATOR
"Pretty cool" – great, noted. Will it actually do what?

MAN 1
Ream my D!

MAN 2
That was gonna be my question.

MAN 3
Mine too.

WOMAN 1
Mine too. My husband and his boyfriend would love this.

MODERATOR
I think there's been some confusion. What exactly do you think this product does?

MAN 1
Reams our Ds?

MAN2
Hopefully.

MODERATOR
Sorry – "D" as in ...

MAN 3
Dingdongs!

MODERATOR
Sir! Please! This is an advanced AI technology with incredible possibilities and all you can think about is getting it to pleasure you sexually? Why on Earth would you think that?!

MAN 3
Hey, don't get mad at me! You're the one who named it the D-Reamer. What are we supposed to think?

MODERATOR
[Sighing] Okay, quick show of hands, how many of you think this product is some sort of sex robot?

Everyone's hands go up.

MODERATOR
Okay. With that in mind, how many of you would be interested in the Dreamer outside of potential sexual applications?

Everyone's hands go down. Man 2 leaves the room.

MODERATOR
I'm too sober for this. Alright, focus group over. You can collect your gift cards on the way out.

Braxton takes his phone back. He's hopeful this will help convince Thatcher about the product. Spoiler alert: It will not.

BRAXTON
See what I mean?

THATCHER
Please. The Venn diagram of people who attend focus groups and people with vision is two separate circles. Why should I care what a few random people think?

BRAXTON
Every focus group was like this.

ASHTON
Even the ones that were all women.

THATCHER
Bah! Fine, so the name is a little lacking. So what? Plenty of revolutionary products have stupid names. You think "Blue Origin" is turning heads? You think the guys who made the Jazzy scooter give a shit?

SAXON
It's not just the name, sir. Some of the features are ... not hitting the adoption rates we'd hoped for.

JACKSON
Most of them, actually.

Thatcher has since replaced his broken glass of wine with an even more ornate and ostentatious glass of wine. He swirls it in his hand in an evil way. Which I guess is basically just a normal way but he looks evil while doing it.

THATCHER
I find that incredibly hard to believe. You're telling me people aren't utilizing the music player?

ASHTON
Music was only noted in 11 percent of users. People complained that the music was all AI-generated slop.

THATCHER
What about the Child Tracker?

SAXON
You mean the one that offers real-time GPS location data of all children ages 3-11 in a 25-mile radius?

THATCHER
For safety, yes.

SAXON
Three percent of users.

BRAXTON
I've gone ahead and sent their names to every law enforcement agency in the world.

THATCHER
What about the built-in Sega Dreamcast?

ASHTON
I'm sorry, sir, but even now, nobody wants to play the Dreamcast.

THATCHER
Well then what about –

Braxton cuts him off. It's a bold move that, again, will not in any way get him fired or punitively harmed because this is a work of fiction. It's nice to dream!

BRAXTON
If you're going to ask about A.I.lyssa, don't.

SAXON
No one has used that feature, sir.

THATCHER
What?! How can that be? A.I.lyssa is the AI assistant of the future! Wait –

TABLE
The fuuuuuture!

THATCHER
Fuck!

Thatcher throws his wine glass against the wall. This time, he produces another, somehow even more ostentatious one directly from his suit jacket pocket. It is unclear how it was stored in there.

THATCHER (CONT'D)
A.I.lyssa makes Siri look like a special needs student. She's modeled after HAL 9000! Why aren't people champing at the bit to use it?!

BRAXTON
You ... do know HAL 9000 was evil, right?

ASHTON
There's a reason Dave tries to shut it down.

THATCHER
From my perspective, the humans in that movie were the evil ones.

SAXON
Shocking.

THATCHER
Saxon, hold this.

He offers Saxon his wine glass, which Saxon reflexively holds. Thatcher then grabs Saxon and throws him against the wall.

THATCHER (CONT'D)
You know what? This was a waste of time. If no one understands our vision then they don't deserve it, either.

SAXON (weakly)
So ... you're ... scrapping the product?

THATCHER
What? No, that's insane. Hexel Enterprises is synonymous with the fut –

The table leans forward in anticipation.

THATCHER (CONT'D)
– Er, with success.

The table slinks back into their seats.

THATCHER (CONT'D)
We're going to launch the D-reamer anyway! And if people aren't ready to buy, I'll simply have our shell company take on the remaining inventory and pivot our focus back to our subscription-based, paper cryptocurrency. Now get the Hell out of my office!

ASHTON
You mean the boardroom?

Thatcher presses a button that dumps all his dumb yes-men down a large chute. It's not unlike the thing they did in Austin Powers, come to think of it. After that, he pours himself another drink and posts a meme about being able to say the n-word on X. It immediately gets 15 billion likes and Hexel's stock prices soar because of their cool and brave and handsome leader who is also objectively the best person in the world because of how rich he is. All is right with the world.