At Burger Down Under, an Australian-themed cheap burger joint. Valedictorian is working on a new laptop. Robster is watching her, but he is bored. There are other people sitting at the restaurant: specifically, Kurt is sitting at one table, looking at his cell phone and eating, and two policemen are sitting out of Valedictorian and Robster’s sight.
Robster: This seems weird.
Valedictorian: This won’t take much time.
Robster: But we’re here without buying anything. Isn’t that weird? People come here to eat. Well, they come inside to eat.
Valedictorian: You just want a burger.
Robster: Yes, a Queensland Burger with some Great Sandy Fries. Do you want anything?
Valedictorian: A Victorian Shake. And curly fries.
Robster: You can just share some of my fries.
Valedictorian: I don’t share.
Valedictorian: I don’t like the extra spices on the Sandy fries. Who eats food called Sandy anyway? What were they thinking?
Robster: That they’re delicious. I’ll be back soon.
He kisses her cheek and exits. Valedictorian works at the laptop silently. Maggie enters, with a bag of food and a soda. She stops and looks at the Valedictorian. She visibly tries to decide if she should approach her or not. A decision is weighed and measured. Then she sighs and approaches the Valedictorian.
Maggie: Oh hey Valedictorian, what are you doing?
Valedictorian: I’m almost there. (she registers who is speaking) Pizza…Girl. My, how you’ve grown. I’m checking my Facebook while my boyfriend buys lunch.
Valedictorian: Does that defy your expectations? Did you assume that we were constantly committing some crime? That our every waking minute was spent writhing in pure illegality?
Maggie: You just don’t strike me as the kind of person who has a Facebook account.
Valedictorian: Well I do. Facebook is wonderful! You can catch up with all your friends, old and new. See what they’re doing. See what they’re interested in. See where they go, when they’re they’re not at home, where they might live, their favorite activities, their birthday, their anniversaries, their job, their potential income, old addresses, the names of their children and pets, events they attend, what they had for lunch. You see, this is called data, and everyone uses the same data to create things. Identities. Passwords. The same thing that attracts marketers to the gold mine of demographic information is the very same thing that attracts bad people, bad people like me. I can use this information and can become more powerful than anyone ever imagined. Imagine I could hack into your Facebook account and see that your brother is in Nairobi and that your Uncle’s cat is named Marty McFly. (That is, indeed, where Maggie’ brother is and her uncle’s cat is indeed Marty McFly) Now imagine that you are very stupid, which shouldn’t be very hard. Stupid people have bad memories. They use the same passwords over and over and over again. Maybe you think you’re smart, and you rotate through six different passwords. But you still need to remember those passwords. You grab them from little memorable bits of your life. Your Uncle’s cat is Marty McFly, and his bank is First Commonwealth, and he was born May 12, 1962 and graduated from Portland State University on May 28, 1984. And imagine that, his password is HeyMcFly056284. I can do that for anyone, at any time, using only the information on their Facebook page, which I am now free to peruse thanks to my little virus that allows me to run amok through the channels of whatever website I choose to upload it.
Robster enters with food and sits down, distributing food between the two of them. Maggie has not moved this entire time. Valedictorian continues uninterrupted. Everyone is listening to her now.
Valedictorian: No one checks their bank account every day. No one will notice if one or two dollars goes missing. Most thieves make a mistake. They do one or two dollars, just to see if the system works, and then they make a giant purchase. Something noticeable. But I am patient. I have access to millions of people’s information. I will use it to my ends. You’re very clever, getting me to reveal all of this. But no matter. There’s nothing anyone can do about it anyway.
The two police officers stand up.
First Police Officer: That sounded like a confession to me.
Second Police Officer: We might need to continue this conversation elsewhere.
Robster: But the fries just came out of the fryer.
Valedictorian (to Maggie): You set this all up, didn’t you? You clever bitch.
First Police Officer: We can take it from here.
The Police Officers handcuff Valedictorian and Robster. Robster continues protesting about leaving the fries behind.
Second Police Officer: Great work, Pizza Girl. I wish we had more heroes like you in the city.
The police officers lead Valedictorian and Robster offstage. They nearly run into Brooke, who has to step aside to let them by.
Brooke: I can’t believe it. I thought you were going to call me if you found something. I thought we were a team. I guess there’s only room for one hero in this town.
Brooke exits. Maggie continues to just stand in the same place as before.
Kurt picks up his phone and dials. He picks up one of Robster’s fries, gives a small wave to Maggie, and exits.