INT. SANTANDER HQ. DAY
A group of TIRED-LOOKING OLD BANKERS sit around a table, clearly in the throes of deep self-hatred.
BANKER ONE: So we’re decided, then. No April Fools’ joke from us this year.
BANKER TWO: But I love April Fools’ Day.
BANKER ONE: Jeremy, no. We’re a bank. Public trust is our lifeblood. The moment we betray that, even jokingly, our business falls to ashes. I’ve made my decision.
BANKER TWO: But...
BANKER ONE: But what?
BANKER TWO: What if we made our April Fools’ joke so awful, so completely unnecessary and clunky, that it barely even counted as a joke? What if we just did the first crappy PhotoShop job we could think of and lazily tweeted it out with such a shrug that people would barely even pay attention to it? Could we do one then? Could we.
BANKER ONE: Fine. But make sure it’s really pointless, Jeremy. Our reputation is at stake.
THREE HOURS LATER:
The BANKERS high-five, and then burst into tears.
Fin.