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In a gleaming corporate lobby during Monday morning rush hour, natural light streams through floor-to-ceiling windows mixing with harsh fluorescent overhead lighting. The marble floors reflect the bustling activity of white American professionals in business attire carrying coffee and briefcases. Medium shot: Marcus (early 40s, expensive suit, slicked hair) strides confidently toward Martha (73, gray hair in bun, blue cleaning uniform, beside mop bucket). Wide shot: The busy lobby gradually quiets as Marcus stops, looks down with visible disgust. Close-up: Marcus's face twists with contempt as he speaks loudly: "You're too old, too slow, and frankly, depressing to look at." Cut to Martha's weathered hands gripping the mop handle, then her calm gray eyes looking up. Medium shot: Marcus kicks the bucket, water splashing across marble as shocked employees freeze mid-conversation. Martha straightens slowly, pulls manila envelope from cart, voice steady: "My name isn't Dorothy. It's Martha Hayes." Close-up: Marcus's face drains of color, mouth agape. Dramatic tension builds with silence. No logos, no brand names, no signage, no watermarks, no text overlays.