JOSH: I know I sound like a dork, but this is way cool.
SALESMAN: Yeah, it's a lot of machine. (Josh starts the engine) All right, so, uh, easy out of the lot.
JOSH: Not like I'm off-roading in Baja?
SALESMAN: Not on the lot. (the tires squeal as Josh revs the engine) Whoa!
SALESMAN: It's a lot of machine.
(Josh's mobile rings, and he answers it whilst trying to manoeuvre the car out of the lot)
DONNA: Hey. McNaughton at the D-Triple-C needs you right away.
JOSH: You should see this thing I'm driving. It's a monster.
(Josh jerkily moves the car to-and-fro as he continues to attempt to get it out of the driveway, much to the distress of the rather anxious salesman)
JOSH: (grinning) My testosterone is flying.
DONNA: Try not to get any on anyone.
(The salesman nervously watches as Josh continues to talk on his mobile with one hand and drive (badly) with the other)
JOSH: Uh ... I'll put my hands-free thing in.
JOSH: Hang on.
SALESMAN: Look out!
(Too late ... As Josh fumbles around for his hands-free device, he gets distracted and crashes the behemoth SUV into an electric Prius parked by the curb)
DONNA: Josh? Are you all right?
JOSH: (he sticks his head out of the driver's window to survey the damage) Tell McNaughton I may be a while ...
JOSH: (he comes up behind her) What is it?
DONNA: That gossip blog, DistrictScene.
JOSH: (over Donna's shoulder, Josh reads a rather scathing article about his automotive mishap at the dealership) How did she get this?
DONNA: Someone at the dealer, I guess.
JOSH: It's not the end of the world. It's a weblog, it's not the Washington Post.
DONNA: (into the phone) Josh Lyman's office. (beat) Yeah. (she hangs up and turns to him) CJ's office. Now.
JOSH: Donna! Get some alternative energy spokespeople in here for a meeting right away.
DONNA: You mean--
JOSH: Wind, solar, hamsters in wheels--whatever's out there. Today.
DONNA: You have that thing--
JOSH: Cancel it. This takes priority.
JOSH: There's a picture? (he looks at a photo of himself on DistrictScene, head sticking out of the SUV, surveying the damage after the crash) You know what? Get this blogger woman on the phone. (Donna begins dialing)
TOBY: You didn't think to mention someone had a camera?
JOSH: There was no camera!
TOBY: Well, there's a picture.
JOSH: There was a guy, his wife and his teenage daughter. That was it.
DONNA: Daughter have a cell phone? (into the phone) Josh Lyman's office calling, please. One moment, please.
TOBY: I wouldn't do this ...
JOSH: (grabs the phone) This is, uh, Josh Lyman, and this is off the record ...
TOBY: She's not a--
JOSH: ... There may be more disreputable ways to make a living than trafficking in gossip and clandestine photos, but none spring to mind. (Toby paces in disbelief in the background) My and this administration's environmental bonafides are well-established. To use this incident to imply otherwise is scurrilous and irresponsible--cheap and easy irony from what I can only surmise is a cheap and shallow person. (beat) I said this was off the record!
TOBY: She's not a journalist!
JOSH: You going to post this?
DONNA: (she refreshes the web page and Josh's quote newly appears) She's posting it now.
(She refreshes the page, and another quote from the phone conversation immediately appears. Still on the phone, Josh casts a dark glance at Toby, who stares at him in exasperation, his mouth agape)
DONNA: Meeting's set--representatives from solar, ethanol, hydrogen and wind.
JOSH: Copy Toby on the roster.
DONNA: Did you know when we run out of oil, it will precipitate a global food crisis?
JOSH: Don't you start.
DONNA: Fossil fuels are key components of fertilisers and pesticides. Not to mention, the fuel used in farm machinery and for irrigation.
JOSH: Said the woman with the electric wheelchair.
DONNA: I've given it up. You've inspired me with your profound commitment to renewable energy. (she hobbles back to her desk)
JOSH: You know, the SUV came through without a scratch.
DONNA: (offscreen) You're going to hell.
(Josh continues to read briefs at his desk, a small smile on his face)