CHARACTERS BILL and BETTY, both in their late 20s SETTING A café table, with a couple of chairs IMPORTANT NOTE ‘The bell is not visible, is not onstage, is not on the table or anywhere else in sight. It is rung from the wings and neither Bill nor Betty ever acknowledges the sound of the bell. 1z SURE THING Betty is reading at the table. An empty chair opposite her, Bill enters. BILL. Excuse me. Is this chair taken? BETTY. Excuse me? BILL. Is this taken? BETTY. Yes it is. BILL. Oh. Sonry. BETTY. Sure thing. (A bell rings softy.) BILL. Excuse me. Is this chair taken? BETTY. Excuse me? BILL. Is this taken? BETTY. No, but I'm expecting somebody in a minute. BILL. Oh, Thanks anyway. BETTY. Sure thing. (A bell rings softly.) BILL. Excuse me. Is this chair taken? BETTY. No, but I'm expecting somebody very shortly. BILL. Would you mind if I sit here till he or she or it comes? BETTY. (Glances at her watch.) They do seem to be pretty late ... BILL. You never know who you might be turning down. BETTY. Sony. Nice ty, though. BILL. Sure thing. (Bell) Is this seat taken? BETTY. No it’s not. BILL. Would you mind if I sit here? BETTY. Yes I would. BILL. Oh. (Bell) Is this chair taken? BETTY. No it’s not. BILL. Would you mind if I sit here? BETTY. No. Go ahead. BILL. Thanks. (He sits. She continues reading.) Every place else 13,seems to be taken. BETTY. Mm-hm. BILL. Great place. BETTY. Mm-hm, BILL. What's the book? BETTY. _I just wanted to read in quiet, if you don’t mind. BILL, No. Sure thing. (Bell,) Every place else seems to be taken. BETTY. Mn-hm. BILL. Great place for reading. BETTY. Yes, I like it. BILL. What's the book? BETTY. The Sound and the Fury. BILL. Oh, Hemingway. (Bell) What's the book? BETTY. The Sound and the Fury. BILL. Oh. Faulkner. BETTY. Have you read it? BILL. Not ... actually. I've sure read about it, though. It's supposed to be great. BETTY. It is great. BILL. I hear it’s great. (Small pause.) Waiter? (Bell) What's the book? BETTY. The Sound and the Fury. BILL. Oh. Faulkner. BETTY. Have you read it? BILL, I'm a Mets fan, myself. (Bell) BETTY. Have you read it? BILL. Yeah, I read it in college. BETTY. Where was college? BILL. I went to Oral Roberts Universiey. (Bett) BETTY. Where was college? BILL. I was lying. I never really went to college. I just like to party. (Bell) BETTY. Where was college? BILL. Harvard. BETTY. Do you like Faulkner? BILL. I love Faulkner. I spent a whole winter reading him once, BETTY. _ I've just started. BILL, I was so excited after ten pages that I went out and bought everything else he wrote. One of the greatest reading experiences of my life. I mean, all that incredible psychologi- cal understanding. Page after page of gorgeous prose. His pro- found grasp of the mystery of time and human existence. The smells of the earth... What do you think? BETTY. I think it’s pretty boring. (Bell) BILL. What's the book? BETTY. The Sound and the Fury. BILL. Oh! Faulkner! BETTY. Do you like Faulkner? BILL. I love Faulkner. BETTY. He's incredible, BILL. I spent a whole winter reading him once. BETTY. I was so excited after ten pages that I went out and bought everything else he wrote. BILL. All that incredible psychological understanding. BETTY. And the prose is so gorgeous. BILL. And the way he’s grasped the mystery of time — BETTY. — and human existence. I can’t believe I've waited this long to read him. BILL. You never know. You might not have liked him be- fore. BETTY. That's true. BILL. You might not have been ready for him. You have to hit these things at the right moment or it's no good. BETTY. That's happened to me. BILL. It's all in the timing. (Small pause.) My name’s Bill, by the way. BETTY. I'm Bety. BILL. Hi. BETTY. Hi. (Small pause.) BILL. Yes I thought reading Faulkner was ... a great expe- rience. BETTY. Yes. (Small pause.) BILL, The Sound and the Fury ... (Another small pause.) BETTY. Well. Onwards and upwards. (She goes back to her 15book.) BILL. Waiter—? (Bell) You have to hit these things at the right moment or it’s no good. BETTY. That's happened to me. BILL. It’s all in the timing. My name's Bill, by the way. BETTY. I'm Bewy. BILL. Hi. BETTY. Hi. BILL. Do you come in here a lo? BETTY. Actually I’m just in town for two days from Pakistan. BILL. Oh. Pakistan. (Bell) My name's Bill, by the way. BETTY. I'm Beuy. BILL. Hi. BETTY. Hi. BILL. Do you come in here a lot? BETTY. Every once in a while. Do you? BILL. Not so much anymore. Not as much as I used to. Be- fore my nervous breakdown. (Bell) Do you come in here a lot? BETTY. Why are you asking? BILL. Just interested. BETTY. Are you really interested, or do you just want to pick me up? BILL. No, I'm really interested. BETTY. Why would you be interesed in whether I come in here a lo? BILL. Just ... getting acquainted. BETTY. Maybe you're only interested for the sake of mak ing small talk long enough to ask me back to your place to listen to some music, or because you've just rented some great tape for your VCR, or because you've got some terrific un- known Django Reinhardt record, only all you really want to do is fuck — which you won't do very well — after which you'll go into the bathroom and pee very loudly, then pad into the kitchen and get yourself a beer from the refrigerator without asking me whether I'd like enything, and then you'll Proceed to lie back down beside me and confess that you've got a girlfriend named Stephanie who's away at medical school in Belgium for a year, and that you've been involved 16 with her — off and on —in what you'll call a very “intricate” relationship, for about seven YEARS. None of which interests me, mister! BILL. Okay. (Bell) Do you come in here a lot? BETTY. Every other day, I think. BILL. 1 come in here quite a lot and I don’t remember see- ing you. BETTY. I guess we must be on different schedules. BILL. Missed connections. BETTY. Yes. Different time zones. BILL. Amazing how you can live right next door to some- body in this town and never even know it. BETTY. _I know. BILL. City life. BETTY. It's crazy. BILL. We probably pass each other in the street every day. Right in front of this place, probably. BETTY. Yep. BILL. (Looks around.) Well the waiters here sure seem to be in some different time zone. I can't seem to locate one any- where.... Waiter! (He looks back.) So what do you — (He sees that she's gone back to her book.) BETTY. I beg pardon? BILL. Nothing. Sorry. (Bell.) BETTY. I guess we must be on different schedules. BILL. Missed connections. BETTY. Yes. Different time zones. BILL. Amazing how you can live right next door to some- body in this town and never even know it. BETTY. I know. BILL. City life. BETTY. It's crazy. BILL. You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you? BETTY. Actually I was. BILL. Oh. Boyfriend? BETTY. Sort of. BILL. What's a sortof boyfriend? 7BETTY. My husband. BILL. Ah-ha. (Bell) You weren't waiting for somebody when T came in, were you? BETTY. Actually 1 was. BILL. Oh. Boyfriend? BETTY. Sort of. BILL. What's a sortof boyfriend? BETTY. We were meeting here to break up. BILL. Mavhm ... (Bell) What's a sortof boyfriend? BETTY. My lover. Here she comes right now! (Bell) BILL. You weren't waiting for somebody when I cam: were you? BETTY. No, just reading. BILL. Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't i? Reading here, all by yourself? BETTY. Do you think so? BILL. Well sure. I mean, what's a good-looking woman like you doing out alone on a Friday night? BETTY. Trying to keep away from lines like that. BILL. No, listen — (Bell) You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you? BETTY. No, just reading. BILL. Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't i? Reading here all by yourself? BETTY. 1 guess it is, in a way. BILL. What's a good-looking woman like you doing out alone on a Friday night anyway? No offense, but .. BETTY. I'm out alone on a Friday night for the first time in a very long time, BILL. Oh BETTY. You see, I just recently ended a relationship BILL. Oh, BETTY. Of rather long standing, BILL. I'm sorry. (Small pause.) Well listen, since reading by yourself és such a sad occupation for a Friday night, would ‘you like to go elsewhere? BETTY. No... BILL. Do something else? 18 BETTY. No thanks. BILL. I was headed out to the movies in a while anyway. BETTY. I don’t think so. BILL. Big chance to let Faulkner catch his breath. All those Jong sentences get him pretty tired. BETTY. Thanks anyway. BILL. Okay. BETTY. I appreciate the invitation. BILL. Sure thing. (Bell) You weren't waiting for somebody when I came in, were you? BETTY. _No, just reading. BILL. Sort of a sad occupation for a Friday night, isn't it? Reading here all by yourself? BETTY. I guess I was trying to think of it as existentially romantic. You know — cappuccino, great literature, rainy night BILL.” That only works in Paris, We could hop the late plane BETTY. I'ma little short on plane fare tonight. BILL. Dar it, so am I. BETTY. To tell you the truth, I was headed to the movies after I finished this section. Would you like to come along? Since you can’t locate a waiter? BILL. That's a very nice offer, but BETTY. Uh-huh. Girlfriend? BILL. Two, actually. One of them’s pregnant, and Stephanie — (Bell) BETTY. Girlfriend? BILL. No, I don’t have a girlfriend. Not if you mean the castrating bitch I dumped last night. (Bell.) BETTY. | Girlfriend? BILL. Sort of. Sort of. BETTY. What's a sortof girlfriend? BILL. My mother. (Bell) I just ended a relationship, actually. BETTY. Oh. BILL. Of rather long standing. BETTY. I'm sorry to hear it. 19BILL. This is my first night out alone in a long time. I feel a little bit at sea, to tell you the truth, BETTY. So you didn’t stop to talk because you're @ Moonie, or you have some weird political affiliation —> BILL. Nope. Straight-down-the-ticket Republican. (Bell.) Straight-down-the-ticket Democrat. (Bell.) Can I tell you some- thing about politics? (Bell. I like to think of myself as a citi zen of the universe. (Bell) I'm unaffiliated, BETTY. That's a relief. So am I. BILL. I vote my beliefs. BETTY. Labels are not important. BILL. Labels are not important, exactly. Take me, for example. I mean, what does it matter if I had a two-point at — (Bell) — three-point at — (Bell) — four-point at college? Or if I did come from Pittsburgh — (Bell,) — Cleveland — (Bell,) — Westchester County? BETTY. Sure. BILL. I believe that a man is what he is, (Bell) A person is what he is. (Bell) A person is ... what they are. BETTY. I think so too. BILL. So what if I admire Trotsky? (Bell) So what if I once had a total-body liposuction? (Bell) So what if I don’t have a penis? (Bell.) So what if I once spent a year in the Peace Corps? I was acting on my convictions. BETTY. Sure. BILL, You can't just hang a sign on a person. BETTY. Absolutely. I'll bet you're a Scorpio. (Many bells ring) Listen, I was headed to the movies after I finished this section. Would you like to come along? BILL. That sounds like fun. What's playing? BELTY. A couple of the really early Woody Allen movies, BILL. Oh. BETTY. You don't like Woody Allen? BILL. Sure. I like Woody Allen. BETTY. But you're not crazy about Woody Allen. BILL. Those early ones kind of get on my nerves. BETTY. Uh-huh. (Bell) 20 BILL. (Simultaneously.) BETTY. (Simultaneously) Yknow I was headed to the — _I was thinking about — BILL. I'm sorry. BETTY. No, go ahead. ; BILL. I was going to say that I was headed to the movies in a litde while, and ... BETTY. So was I. BILL. The Woody Allen festival? BETTY. Just up the street. BILL. Do you like the early ones? BETTY. I think anybody who doesn’t ought to be run off the planet. BILL. How many times have you seen Bananas? BETTY. Eight times. BILL. Twelve. So are you still interested? (Long pause.) BETTY. Do you like Entenmann’s crumb cake...? BILL. Last night I went out at two in the morning to get one. (Small pause.) Did you have an Etch-aSketch as a child? BETTY. Yes! And do you like Brussels sprouts? (Small pause.) BILL, No, I think they're disgusting. BETTY. They are disgusting! BILL. Do you still believe in marriage in spite of current sentiments against it? BETTY. Yes. BILL. And children? BETTY. Three of them. BILL. Two girls and a boy. BETTY. Harvard, Vassar and Brown. BILL. And will you love me? BETTY. Yes. BILL. And cherish me forever? BETTY. Yes. BILL. Do you still want to go to the movies? BETTY. Sure thing. BILL and BETTY. (Together.) Waiter! BLACKOUT 2PROPERTY LIST Café table 2 cafe chairs ‘Small vase, with a rose Cappuccino cup, for Beuy Paper napkin Sugar bowl Spoon Salt and pepper shakers Book (BETTY) Wristwatch (BETTY) Hotel-desk bell, for offstage ‘WORDS, WORDS, WORDSThas play is for Fred Sanders 24 WORDS, WORDS, WORDS was presented as part of ALL IN ‘THE TIMING at Primary Stages (Casey Childs, Artistic Direc- tor), in New York City, in December, 1998. It was directed by Jason McConnell Buzas; the set design was by Bruce Goodrich; the costume design was by Sharon Lynch; the lighting design was by Deborah Constantine and the production stage man- ager was Christine Catti. The cast was as follows: SWET., KAFKA. MILTON ... Robert Stanton ‘WORDS, WORDS, WORDS premiered at the Manhattan Punch Line Theatre, in New York Gity, in January 1987. It was directed by Fred Sanders; the set design was by Jane Clark; the costume design was by Michael 8. Schler; the lighting de- sign was by Mark Di Quinzio; the sound design was by James Reichert and the stage manager was Beverly Jenkins. The cast was as follows: MILTON .. SWIFT KAFKA . Warren Keith Christopher Fields Helen Greenberg 25‘WORDS, WORDS, WORDS Lights come up on three monkeys pecking away at three bype- writers, Behind them, a tireswing is hanging. The monkeys are named Milton, Swift and Kafka. Kafka is c girl ‘monkey, They shouldn't be in monkey suits, by the way. Instead, they wear the sort of littlekid clothes that chimps wear in circuses: white shirts and bow-ties for the boys, a fleuncy little dress for Kafka, They type for a few moments, each at his own speed. Then Milton runs excitedly around the floor on his knuckles, swings onto the tire-swing, leaps back onto his stool, and goes on typing. Kafka eats a banana thoughtfully. Swift pounds his chest and shows his teeth, then goes back to ping. SWIFT. I don’t know. I just don't know ... KAFKA. Quiet, please. I'm trying to concentrate here. (She ‘types a moment with her toes.) MILTON. Okay, so what've you got? SWIFT. Me? MILTON. Yeah, have you hit anything? Let's hear it. SWIFT. (Reads what he’s typed.) “Ping-drobba fft ft fft inglewarp carcinoma.” That's as far as I got. KAFKA. I like the “Aft ft fft.” MILTON. Yeah. Kind of onomatopoeic. SWIFT. I don’t know. Feels to me like it needs some punch- ing up. MILTON. You can always throw in a few jokes later on. You 27gotta get the throughline first. SWIFT. But do you think it’s Hamlet? MILTON. Don’t ask me. I'm just a chimp. KAFKA. They could've given us a clue or something. SWIFT. Yeah. Or a story conference. MILTON. But that'd defeat the whole purpose of the ex- periment. SWIFT. I know, I know, I know. Three monkeys typing into infinity will sooner or later produce Hamlet MILTON. Right. SWIFT. Completely by chance. MILTON. And Dr. David Rosenbaum up ia that booth is going to prove it SWIFT. But what is Hamlet? MILTON. I don't know. SWIFT. (To Kafka.) What is Hamle? KAFKA. I don’t know. (Silence.) SWIFT. (Dawning realization.) You know — this is really stupid! MILTON. Have you got something better to do in this cage? The sooner we produce the goddamn thing, the sooner we get out. KAFKA. Sort of publish or perish, with a twist. SWIFT. But what do we owe this Rosenbaum? A guy who stands outside those bars and tells people, “That one’s Milton, that one’s Swift, and that one’s Kafka” —? Just to get a laugh? KAFKA. What's a Kafka anyway? Why am I 2 Kafka? SWIFT. Search me. KAFKA, What's a Kafka? SWIFT. All his four-eyed friends sure think it's a stitch. KAFKA. And how are we supposed to write Hamlet if we don’t even know what it is? MILTON. Okay, okay, so the chances are a litle slim. ‘SWIFT. Yeah — and this from a guy who's supposed to be smart? This from a guy at Columbia University? MILTON, The way I figure it, there is a Providence dhat ‘oversces our pages, rough-draft them how we may. KAFKA. But how about you, Milton? What've you got? MILTON. Let's see ... (Reads.) 28 “OF Man's first disobedience, and the fruit OF that forbidden tree whose mortal taste Brought death into the —”" KAFKA. Hey, that’s good! It’s got rhythm! It really sings! MILTON. Yeah? SWIFT. But is it Shakespeare? KAFKA. Who cares? He's got a real voice there. SWIFT. Does Dr. Rosenbaum care about voice? Does he care about anybody's individual creativity? MILTON. Let's look at this from Rosenbaum's point of view for a minute — SWIFT. No! He brings us in here to produce copy, then all he wants is a clean draft of somehocy else’s stuff (Dumps out @ bowl of peanuts.) We're getting peanuts here, to be somebody's hack! MILTON. — Writing is a mug’s game anyway, Swifty. SWIFT. Well it hath made me mad. MILTON. — Why not just buckle down and get the project over with? Set up a schedule for yourself. Type in the morn- ing for a couple of hours when you're fresh, then take a break. Let the old juices flow. Do a couple more hours in the afternoon, and retire for a shot of papaya and some mastur- bation. What's the big deal? SWIFT. If this Rosenbaum was worth anything, we'd be working on word processors, not these antiques. He's lucky he could find three who type this gocd, and then he treats us like those misfits at the Bronx Zoo. I mean — a tireswing? What does he take us for? MILTON. [I like the tireswing. I think it was a very nice touch. SWIFT. I can’t work under these conditions! No wonder I'm producing garbage! KAFKA. — How does the rest of yours go, Milton? MILTON. What, this? KAFKA. Yeah, read us some more. MILTON. Blah, blah, blah ... “whose mortal taste Brought death into the blammagam. Bedsocks knockwurst tinkerbelle.” 29(Small pause.) What do you think? KAFKA. “Blammagam” is good. SWIFT. Well. I don't know ... MILTON. What's the matter? Is it the tone? I knew this was Kind of a stretch for me. SWIFT. I’m just not sure it has the same expressive inten- sity and pungent lyricism as the first part. MILTON. Well sure, it needs rewriting. What doesn't? This is a rough draft! (Suddenly noticing.) Light’s on. (Swift claps his ‘hands over his eyes, Milton prts his hands over his ears, and puts her hands over her mouth so that they form “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.”) SWIFT. This bit. KAFKA. (Through her hands.) Are they watching? MILTON. — (Hands over ears.) What? KAFKA. Are they watching? SWIFT. I don't know, I can't see. I've got my paws over my eyes. MILTON. What? KAFKA. What is the point of this? SWIFT. Why do they videotape our bowel movements? MILTON. What?! SWIFT. Light's off. (They take their hands away.) MILTON. | But how are you doing, Franz? What've you got? KAFKA, Well.... (Reads what she's typed.) “KKK KKKKKK- SWIFT. What is that — postmodernism? KAFKA. Twenty lines of that. SWIFT. At least it'll fuck up his data, KAFKA. Twenty lines of that and I went dry. I got blocked. 1 felt like I was repeating myself, MILTON. To you think that that's in Hanle(? KAFKA. I don’t understand what I'm doing here in the first Place! I'm not a writer, I'm a monkey! I'm supposed to be swinging on branches and digging up ants, not sitting under fluorescent lights ten hours a day! MILTON. It sure is a long way home to the gardens of sweet Africa. Where lawns and level downs and flocks grazing the tender herb were sweetly interposéd ... KAPKA. Paradise, wasn’t it? MILTON. Lost! SWIFT. Lost! KAFKA. Lost! MILTON. I'm tying to deal with some of that in this new piece here, but it's all still pretty close to the bone. SWIFT. Just because they can keep us locked up, they think they're more powerful than we are. MILTON. They are more powerful than we are. SWIFT. Just because they control the means of production, they think they can suppress the workers. MILTON. Things are how they are. What are you going to do? SWIFT. Hey — how come you're always so goddamn ready to justify the ways of Rosenbaum to the apes? MILTON. Do you have a key to that door? SWIFT. No. MILTON. Do you have an independent food source? SWIFT. No. MILTON. So call me a collaborator. I happen to be a pro- fessional. If Rosenbaum wants Hamlet, I'll give it a shot. Just don't forget — we're not astrophysicists. We're not brain sur geons. We're chimps. And for apes in captivity, this is no: a bad gig. SWIFT. What's really frightening is that if we stick around this cage long enough, we're gonna evolve into Rosenbaum. KAFKA. Evolve into Rosenbaum? SWIFT. Brush up your Darwin, baby. We're more than kin and less than kind, MILTON. Anybody got a smoke? KAFKA, I'm all out. SWIFT. Don’t look at me. I'm not going to satisfy these voyeurs with the old smoking-chimp act. No thank you, MILTON. Don't be a sap, Swifty. You gotta use ‘em! Use the system! SWIFT. What do you mean? 31MILTON. Watch me, while I put my antic disposition on. (He jumps up onto his chair and scratches his sides, screeches, makes smoking motions, pounds his chest, jumps up and down — and a cigarette descends.) See what I mean? Gauloise, too. My fave. (He settles back to enjoy it.) SWIFT. They should've thrown in a kewpie doll for that performance. MILTON. It got results, didn’t it? SWIFT. Sure. You do your Bonzo routine and get a Gauloise out of it. Last week I totalled a typewriter and got a whole carton of Marlboros. MILTON. The trouble was, you didn’t smoke ‘em, you took a crap on ‘em, SWIFT. It was a political statement. MILTON. Okay, you made your statement and I got my smoke. All’s well that ends well, right KAFKA. It’s the only way we know they're watching. MILTON. Huh? KAFKA. We perform, we break typewriters, we type another page — and a cigarette appears. At least it's a sign that some- body out there is paying attention. MILTON. _ Our resident philosopher. SWIFT, But what'll happen if one of us does write Hamlet? Here we are, set down to prove the inadvertent virtues of ran- domness, and to produce something that we wouldn't even recognize if it passed right through our hands — but what if one of us actually does i? MILTON. Will we really be released? KAFKA. Will they give us the key to the city and a tickertape parade? SWIFT. Or will they move us on to Ulysses? (The others shrick in terror at the thought.) Why did they pick Hamlet in the first place? What's Hamlet to them or they to Hamlet that we should care? Boy, there's the respect that makes calamity of so ong life! For who would bear the whips and scorns of ime, the oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely — MILTON. Hey, Swifty! SWIFT, — the pangs of despiséd love, the law's delay — 32. MILTON. Hey, Swifty! Relax, will you? KAFKA. Have a banana, SWIFT. I wish T could get Rosenbaum in here and see how he does at producing Hamlet... That's it! KAFKA. What? SWIFT. That's it! Forget about this random Hamlet crap. What about revenge? KAFKA. Revenge? On Rosenbaum? SWIFT. Who else? Hasn't he bereft us of our homes and families? Stepped in between us and our expectations? KAFKA. How would we do it? SWIFT. Easy. We lure him in here to look at our typewrit- ers, test them out like something's wrong — but! we poison the typewriter keys! MILTON. | Oh Jesus. SWIFT. Sure. Some juice of curséd hebona spread liberally over the keyboard? Ought to work like a charm. MILTON. Great. SWIFT. If that doesn’t work, we envenom the tireswing and invite him for a ride. Plus — I challenge him to a duel. MILTON. Brilliant. SWIFT. Can't you see it? In the course of combat, I casu- ally graze my rapier over the poisoned typewriter keys, and — (labs.) — a hit! A palpable hit! For a reserve, we lay by a cup with some venomous distillment. We'll put the pellet with the poison in the vessel with the pestle! MILTON. Listen, I gotta get back to work. The man is gonna want his pages. (He rolls a fresk page into his typewriter.) KAFKA. It’s not a bad idea, but ... SWIFT. What's the matter with you guys? I'm on to some- thing here! KAFKA. I think it’s hopeless, Swifty. SWIFT. But this is the goods! MILTON. Where was I ... “Bedsocks knockwurst tinkerbelle.” KAFKA. The readiness is all, I guess. MILTON. Damn straight. Just let me know when that K-but ton gives out, honey.SWIFT. Okay. You two serfs go back to work, I'll do all the thinking around here. Swifty — revenge! (He paces, deep in thought.) MILTON. “Tinkerbelle ... ‘Yeah, that's good. That is good. (Types.) “Shtuckelschwanz, shtuckelschwanz ... hemorrhoid.” KAFKA. (Types. “Act one, scene one. Elsinore Castle, Denmark ..." MILTON. (Types) “... hemorrhoid.” KAFKA. (Types.) “Enter Bernardo and Francisco.” MILTON. — (Types.) "Pomegranate." KAFKA. Types.) “Bernardo says, ‘Who's there?” MILTON, — (Types.) “Bazooka.” (Kafka continues to type Hamlet, as the lights fade.) PROPERTY LIST 3 typing tables 3 stools 3 old typewriters Typing paper 3 wastebaskets overflowing with crushed paper Tire-swing Banana (KAFKA) Bowl of peanuts (SWIFT) 3 ashtrays, full of butts ‘Empty cigarette pack (KAFKA) Cigarette on a wire, for Milton Cigarette lighter, for Milton 35TIME FLIES Evening. A pond. Upstage, a thicket of tall cattails. Down- stage, a deep green love seat and a cricket coffee table. Over- head, an enormous full moon. A loud cuckoo sounds, like the mechanical “CUCKOO” of a clock, Lights come up on two mayflies, Horace and May, buszing as they “fly” in. They are dressed like singles on an evening ‘out, he in a jacket and tie, she in a fetching party dress — but they have insectlike antennae, long tubelike tails, and ‘on their backs, translucent wings. Outsied hornrim glasses give the impression of very large eyes. May has distinctly hairy legs. HORACE and MAY. Buzezzzezerezzzcazx .., (Their wings stop flut- tering, as they “settle.") MAY. Well here we are. This is my place. HORACE. Already? That was fast. MAY. Swell party, huh. HORACE. Yeah. Quite a swarm. MAY. Thank you for flying me home. HORACE, No. Sure. I'm happy to. Absolutely. My pleasure. I mean — you're very, very, very welcome. (Their eyes lock and they necr each other as if for a kiss, their wings fluttering a little.) Brzzzzz.... MAY. Bazzzzzzz ... (Before their jaws can meet: we hear another “CUCKOO!” and Horace breaks away.) HORACE. It's that late, is it. Anyway, it was very nice meet- ing you — I'm sory, is it April? MAY. May. HORACE. May. Yes. Later than I thought, huh. 51MAY. That's very funny, Vergil. HORACE. | It's Horace, actually. MAY. I'm sorry. The buzz at that party was so loud. HORACE. So you're “May the mayfly.” MAY. Yeah. Guess my parents didn’t have much imagination. May, mayfly. HORACE. You don’t, ah, live with your parents, do you, May? MAY. No, my parents died around dawn this morning. HORACE. Isn't that funny. Mine died around dawn too. MAY. That is funny. Or maybe it's fate. HORACE. | Is that what it izezzzzzz...? MAY. Brzzzzzz2.... HORACE, Bzzzzzzzzzzzz2.... (They near for a hiss, but Horace breaks away.) Well I'd better be going now. Good night. (He starts out.) MAY. Would you like a drink? (Horace comes back.) HORACE. I'd love a drink, actually ... MAY. Let me just turn on a couple of fireflies. (May tickles the underside of a couple of twofoot long fireflies hanging like a chan- delier, and they light up.) HORACE. Wow. Great pond! (Indicating the love seat.) 1 love the lily pad. MAY. That was here. It kinda grew on me, Care to take the load off your wings? HORACE. That's all right. I'll just — you know — hover. But will you look at that...! (Turing to look at the cricket coffee table, Horace bats May with his wings.) MAY. Ooft HORACE. I'm sorry. Did we collide? MAY. No. No. It’s fine. HORACE. I've only had my wings about six hours ... MAY. Really? So have I...! HORACE, Isn't that funny. MAY. Wasn't molting disgusting? HORACE. Eugh. I'm glad that’s over. MAY. Care for some music? I've got The Beatles, The Byrds, The Crickets . 2 HORACE. 1 love the Crickets. MAY. Well so do I... (She hicks the coffte table, and we hear ‘he bust of crickets. They boogie to the sound of the crickets.) HORACE. So are you going out with any — I mean, are there any other mayflies in the neighborhood? MAY. _ No, it's mostly wasps. HORACE. So, you live here by your, um, all by yoursel® jone? MAY. All by my lonesome. HORACE. And will you look at that moon. MAY. You know that’s the first moon I’ve ever seen? HORACE, That's the first moon J've ever seen. MAY. Isn't that funny. HORACE. When were you born? MAY. About 7:30 this morning. HORACE. So was I! Seven thirty-three! MAY. Isn't that funny. HORACE. Or maybe it’s fate. (They near each other again, as if for a hiss.) Bezzzzzz . MAY. Bzzzzzzzzz ... I think that moon is having a very emo- tional effect on me. HORACE. Me too. MAY. It must be nature. HORACE. Me too. MAY. Or maybe it’s fate. HORACE. Me too ... AFROG. (Amplified, over loudspeaker.) RIBBIT, RIBBIT! HORACE. A frog! MAY. A frog! HORACE and MAY. The frogs are coming, the frogs are coming! (They “fly” around the stage in a panic. Ad lib) A frog, a frog! The fre are coming, the frogs are coming! (They finally stop, breath- MAY. It’s okay. It’s okay. HORACE. Oh my goodness. MAY. I think he's gone now. HORACE. Oh my goodness, that scared me. MAY. That is the only drawback to living here. The frogs. 38HORACE. You know I like frog films and frog literature. 1 just don’t like frogs. MAY. And they're so rude if you're not a frog yourself. HORACE. Look at me. I'm still shaking, MAY. Why don’t I fix you something. Would you like a grass- hopper? Or a stinger? HORACE. Just some stagnant water would be fine. MAY. A little duckweed in that? Some algae? HORACE. Straight up is fine. MAY. Sure I couldn’t tempt you to uy the lily pad? HORACE. Well, maybe for just a second. (Horace flutters down onto the love seat.) Zzz2z22 ... MAY. (Handing him a glass.) Here you go. Cheers, Horace. HORACE. Long life, May. (They clink glasses.) MAY. Do you want to watch some tube? HORACE, Some tube. Sure. What's on? MAY. Let's see. (She checks a green TV guide.) There is ... The Love Bug. M. Butterfly. The Spider’s Stratagem. Travels With My ‘Ant, Angels and Insects, The Fly . HORACE. The original, or Jeff Goldblum? MAY. Jeff Goldblum. HORACE. Euch. Too gruesome. MAY. Born Yesterday. And Life On Earth, HORACE. What's on that? MAY. “Swamp Life,” with Sir David Attenborough. HORACE. That sounds good. MAY. Shall we uy it? HORACE. Carpe diem. MAY. Carpe diem? What's that? HORACE. I don’t know. It's Latin MAY. What's Latin? HORACE. I don't know. I'm just a mayfly. (“CUCKOO!”) And we're right on time for it. (May presses a remote control and at stage left David Attenborough appears. vearing a safari jacket.) DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. Hello, I'm David Attenborough. Welcome to "Swamp Li MAY. Isn't this comfy. HORACE. Is my wing in your way? 54 MAY. No. It’s fine. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. You may not believe it, but within this seemingly lifeless puddle, there thrives a teeming world of vibrant life. HORACE. May, look! Isn't that your pond? MAY. I think that is my pond! HORACE. He said “puddle.” DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. This puddle is only several inches across, but its stagnant water plays host to over 14 gazillion different species. MAY. It is my pond! DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. Every species here is engaged in a constant, desperate battle for survival. Feeding — meeting — mating — breeding — dying. And mating. And meeting. ‘And mating. And feeding. And dying. Mating. Mating. Mect- ing. Breeding. Brooding. Braiding — those that can braid. Feeding. Mating. MAY. All right, Sir Dave! DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. Mating, mating, and mating. HORACE. Only one thing on his mind. MAY. The filth on television these days. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. Tonight we start off with one of the saddest creatures of this environment. HORACE. The dung beetle. MAY. The toad. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. The lowly mayfty. HORACE. Did he say “the mayfly"? MAY. I think he said the lowly mayfly. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. Yes. The lowly mayfly. Like these two mayflies, for instance. HORACE. May — I think that's us! MAY. Oh my God .. HORACE and MAY. —(Together.) We've on television! HORACE. I don’t believe it! MAY. Oh, I wish my mother was here to see this! HORACE.» This is amazing! MAY. Oh God, I look terrible! HORACE. You look very good. 85MAY. I can’t look at this. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. As you see, the lowly mayfly is not one of nature's most attractive creatures. MAY. Well at least we don’t wear safari jackets. HORACE. I wish he'd stop saying “lowly mayfly.” DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. The lowly mayfly has a very dis- tinctive khkhkhkhkhkhkhkhkkh ... (The sound of TV “static.") MAY. I think there's something wrong with my antenna ... (She adjusts the antenna on her head.) HORACE. You don’t have cable? MAY. Not on this pond. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. (Stops the static sound.) ... and sixty tons of droppings. HORACE. There. That fixed it. MAY. Can I offer you some food? I've got some plankton in the pond. And some very nice gnat. HORACE. I do love good gnat. MAY. ll set it out, you can pick. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. The lowly mayfly first appeared some 350 million years ago ... MAY. That's impressive. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. ... and is of the order Ephemer- optera, meaning, “living for a single day.” MAY. I did not know that! HORACE. “Living for a single day.” Huh ... MAY. | (Setting out a tray on the coffee table.) There you go. HORACE. Gosh, May. That's beautiful. MAY. There's curried gnat, salted gnat, Scottish smoked rat o.. HORACE. I love that MAY... gnat with pesto, gnat au naturelle, and Gnat King Cole. HORACE. I don't think I could finish a whole one. MAY. “Gnat” to worry. (They laugh politely.) That's larva dip there in the center. Just dig in. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. As for the life of the common mayfly ... HORACE. Oh. We're “common” now. 56 DAVID ATTENBOROUGH...... it is a simple round of meet ing, mating, meeting, mating — MAY. Here we go again. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. — breeding, feeding, feeding . HORACE. This dip is fabulous. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. __... and dying. MAY. Leaf? HORACE. Thank you. (May breaks a leaf off a plant and hands it to Horace to use as a napkin.) DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. Mayflies are 2 major food source trout and salmon. (He produces a large fish from his pocket. HORACE and MAY. Eught Ugh! | caieakaeat MAY. Will you look at that? HORACE. Revolting. DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. Fishermen like to bait hooks with mayfly lookalikes. MAY. Bastards. Excuse me. DAM, ATTENBOROUGH. And then there is the giant bull- frog. AFROG. (Amplified, over loudspeaker.) RIBBIT, RIBBIT! HORACE and MAY. The frogs are coming, the frogs are coming! (They “fly” around the stage in a panic — and end up “fying” into each others arms). as weaned HORACE. Well there. MAY. Hello, DAVID ATTENBOROUGH. Welcome to “Swamp Life!” (David Attenborough exits.) MAY. Funny how we flew right into each other's wings. HORACE. It is funny. MAY. Or fate. HORACE. Do you think he’s gone? MAY. David Attenborough? HORACE. The frog. MAY. What frog. Bzzzz.... HORACE. Bzzzzz ... (With their hands, they rub each other's noses.) DAVID ATTENBOROUGH'S VOICE. As you see, mayflies can be quite affectionate, mutually palpating their proboscises. 37HORACE. You know I've been wanting to palpate your pro- ‘boscis all evening? MAY. [think it was larva at first sight. HORACE and MAY. (Rubbing proboscises together.) Zeszzzzzzzzz2- meme. MAY. (Very “Brief Encounter” British.) Oh darling, darling. HORACE. Oh do darling do let's always be good to each other, shall we? MAY. Let’s do do that, darling, always, always. HORACE. Always? MAY. Always. HORACE and MAY, Zezermrreeeeerememeeraaeeccisaze! MAY. Rub my antennae, Rub my antennae. (Horace rubs May's antennae with his hands.) DAVID ATTENBOROUGH’S VOICE. Sometimes mayflies rub antennae together. MAY. Oh yes. Yes. Just like that. Yes. Keep going. Harder. Rub harder. HORACE. Rub mine now. Rub my antennae. Oh yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. There's the rub. There’s the rub. Go. Go. Go! DAVID ATTENBOROUGH'S VOICE. Isn't that a picture. Now get a load of mating. (Horace gets into mounting position behind May. He rubs her antennae while she wolfs down the gnat- food in front of her.) HORACE and MAY. B2ZZZ22220222222222200022201L2- ZLLLLLLLILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLELELL! DAVID ATTENBOROUGH'S VOICE. Unfortunately for this insect, the mayfly has a lifespan of only one day. (Horace and May stop buzzing, abruptly.) HORACE. What was that...? DAVID ATTENBOROUGH'S VOICE. The mayfly has a lifespan of only one day — living just long enough to meet, mate, have offspring, and die. MAY. Did he say “meet, mate, have offspring, and DIE" — ? DAVID ATTENBOROUGH'S VOICE. I did. In fact, mayflies born at 7:30 in the morning will die by the next dawn. (Horace whimpers at the thought.) But so much for the lowly mayfly. Let's move on to the newt. ("CUCKOO!") 58 HORACE. We're going o die...! MAY. We're going to die...! HORACE and MAY. Mayday, mayday! We're going to die, we've going to die! (Weeping and wailing.) Wah-ha-hacha! (Still wailing, ‘hey kneel, beat their breasts, crass themselves, daven, and tear their hair. Till: “CUCKOO!") HORACE. What time is it? What time is it? MAY. I don't wear a watch. I'm a lowly may/ly! HORACE. (Gasping for breath.) Oh my goodness. I think I'm having an asthma attack. Can mayflies have asthma? MAY. I don’t know. Ask Mr. Safari Jacket, HORACE, Maybe if I put a paper bag over my head ... MAY. So this is my sex life? HORACE. Do you have a paper bag? MAY. One bang, a bambino, and boom — that's it? HORACE. Do you have a paper bag? MAY. For the common mayfly, foreplay segues right into funeral, HORACE. Do you have a paper bag? MAY. 1 don't have time to look for a paper bag, I'm going to be dead very shortly, all right? (“CUCKOO!”) HORACE. Oh come on! That wasn't a whole hour! (“CUCKOO!”) Time is moving so fast now. (“CUCKOO!") HORACE and MAY. SHUT UP! (“CUCKOO!") Wah-ha-ha- ha... HORACE. (Suddenly sober.) Well this explains everything. We were born this morning, we hit puberty in mid-afternoon, our biological clocks went “bong,” and here we are. Hot to copu- late. MAY. For the one brief miserable time we get to do it. HORACE. Yeah, MAY. Talk about a quickie. HORACE. Wait a minute, wait a minute. MAY. Talk fast. HORACE. What makes you think it would be so brief? MAY. Oh, I'm sony. Did I insult your vast sexual experience? HORACE. Are you more experienced than Jam, Dr. Ruth? Luring me here to your pad? 59MAY. 1 see. I see. Blame me! HORACE, Can I remind you we only get one shot at this? “MAY. So I can rule out multiple orgasms, is that it? HORACE, I'm just saying there's not a lot of time to hone one’s erotic technique, okay? MAY. Hmp! HORACE. And I'm tying to sort out some very big ento- montological questions here rather quickly, do you mind? MAY. And I'm just the babe here, is that it? I'm just a piece of tail? HORACE. I'm not the one who suggested TV. MAY. I'm not the one who wanted to watch Life On Earth. “Oh, ‘Swamp Life.’ That sounds interesting.” AFROG. RIBBIT, RIBBIT. HORACE. (Calmly.) There's a frog up there. MAY. Oh, I'm really scared. I'm terrified. AFROG. RIBBIT, RIBBIT! HORACE. (Calling to the frog.) We're right down here! Come and get us! MAY. Breeding. Dying. Breeding. Dying. So this is the whole purpose of mayflies? To make more mayflies? HORACE. Dees the world need more mayflies? MAY. We're 2 major food source for trout and salmon. HORACE. How nice for the salmon. MAY. Do you want more food? HORACE. I've lost a bit of my appetite, all right? MAY. Oh. Excuse me. HORACE. I'm sorry. Really, May. MAY. You think I don't feel bad? Males! HORACE. Leaf? (He plucks another leaf and hands it to her.) MAY. Thank you. (She blows her nose into the leaf.) HORACE. Really. I didn’t mean to snap at yor MAY. Oh, you've been very nice. (*CUCKO( Under the circumstances. HORACE. I'm sorry. MAY. No, I'm sorry. HORACE. No, I'm sorry. MAY. No, I'm sorry. ” They jump.) 69 HORACE. No, I'm sorry. MAY. We'd better stop apologizing, we're g soon. HORACE. I'm sorry. MAY. Oh Horace, I had such plans. I had such wonderful plans. I wanted to see Paris. HORACE. What's Paris? MAY. I have no fucking idea. HORACE. Maybe we'll come back as caviar and find out. (Pie laugh a little at that.) I was just hoping to live till Tues- lay. MAY. What's a Tuesday? (They laugh a little more at that.) The sun’s going to be up soon. I'm scared, Horace. I'm so scared. HORACE. You know, May, we don't have much time, and really, we hardly know each other — but I'm going to say it. I think you're swell. I think you're divine. From your buggy eyes to the thick raspy hair on your legs to the intoxicating scent of your secretions. MAY. Eeeuw. HORACE. Eeeuw? No. I say woof And I say who cares if life is a swamp and we're just a couple of small bugs in a very small pond. I say live, May! I say — darn it — live! MAY. But how? HORACE. Well I don’t honestly know ... DAVID ATTENBOROUGH'S VOICE. You could fly to Paris. MAY. We could fly to Paris! HORACE. Do we have time to fly to Paris? MAY. Carpe diem! HORACE. What is carpe diem? DAVID ATTENBOROUGH'S VOICE. It means “bon voyage.” HORACE. (Holding out a hand.) Ignition. MAY. (Taking his hand.) Contact. ‘HORACE and MAY. And we're outa here! (They fly off to Paris as the lights black out.) ig to be dead 61DR. FRITZ Or: The Forces of Light Maria is sitting behind a crude plank table made from an old door. She wears a plain white linen smock and huara- ches, She is hnitting — but without any yarn, On the table is a raggedy home-made doll with outstretched arms, Over the room hangs a rusty meathook. Upstage: a pic- ture of Jesus as the Sacred Heart. MARIA. (Sings, softly, calmly.) Corazona, corazona di Cristu! Wer bist Du? Wer bist Du? (Tom enters, holding his side and gasping in pain. He is dressed in Bermuda shorts, expensive sandals and a ioud Hawaiian shirt.) TOM. Eugh. Eugh. Eugh. MARIA. Eendio, sinhors! Comari ta? TOM. Eugh? MARIA. How you are feeling todays? TOM. Eugh. MARIA. (Holds up the doll.) You want to buy a souvenirs? TOM. Bugh. MARIA. One of a kinds. TOM. I'm looking for Dr. Fritz. MARIA, Ah, Dr. Fritz can cure everything. You have a troothache? TOM. No. Poison. MARIA. You have been poisoned? Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. TOM. Food poisoning. MARIA. Oh, the food poisonings. But no troothache? TOM. I don’t have a goddamn toothache. MARIA. Eh, eh, eh. This is not nice languages, Pablo. TOM. Patio? MARIA. I was foretold of a man named Pablo coming with @ woothache, 85TOM. I'm not Pablo. MARIA. This is why you have no toothache. TOM. Look ... MARIA. (Looking behind herself.) Where? TOM. Listen ... MARIA. I hear nothings. TOM. My name is Tom Sanders. I'm staying at the Hotel Gorgon. MARIA. That's so nice. | TOM. At the hotel I talked to this man Pedro ... MARIA. Pedro the doorman or Pedro the cook? TOM. Pedro the cook. MARIA. He so nice. You want to buy a souvenirs? TOM. No, thank you. MARIA. One of a kinds. TOM. Pedro said come here and ask for Dr. Fritz. MARIA. Ah, Dr. Fritz can cure everything. Broken bone, bul- let hole, burn, amputation, housemaid’s knee ... | TOM. But — MARIA. Terminal diseases is more difficult. TOM. But — MARIA. This is why they are called terminal. TOM. But — MARIA. Ah, but are they terminal? A case for Dr. Fritz. TOM. But — doesn't the sign outside say "butcher"? MARIA. You speak the languages so good. | TOM. ugh. MARIA. Now this is the souvenir shop of Maria, and the of fices of Dr. Fritz. TOM. (Pain.) Jesus Christ...! MARIA. (Turning to look.) Where? TOM. Is he here? MARIA. Jesus are everywhere. TOM. Dr, Frit, MARIA. Oh, Dr. Fritz, TOM. Do you have a chair? MARIA. Only the chairs I am sitting on. TOM. Can I sit on ie 86 MARIA. This is Dr. Fritz’s chairs. Only Dr. Fritz can sit in this chairs. TOM. Wait a minute. You'e not Dr. Fritz MARIA. I am the assistant of Dr. Fritz. (Laughs madly. Then calm again.) At the moment. TOM. Oh God ... MARIA. Good! You believe in God. TOM. What? MARIA. I say, Good! You believe in God. TOM. No I don’t believe in God. MARIA. But sinkors, you called on God, you said, Oh God, oh God. TOM. It was a figure of speech, okay? MARIA. You believe in Buddha? Buddha is good. TOM. No. MARIA. Krishna, maybe? TOM. No. MARIA. Just checking. (We hear a ringing.) TOM. What's that? MARIA. What is what, sinhors? (Ring.) TOM. That ringing. MARIA. I hear nothings. (Ring.) Maybe the food poisoning make you a little lacoco. (Ring.) TOM, Don't you hear that bell? MARIA. Oh, the bells. (Picks up doll and speaks into it Uke a telephone.) Mushi mushi ... Si... Si... Si... Dasveedonyeh. (Hangs up the doll.) That was Pedro the cook. He say you are on the way. (Tom picks up the doll and looks at it.) There is always more meat than meets the eyes meat, no? TOM. I must have fever. MARIA. Are you shuitzing? TOM. Iam shvitzing. MARIA. This could be the fevers. TOM. Maria, look ... MARIA. Where? TOM. Here. Look here. If I die, tell them this. MARIA. We all will die, sinkors — God willing. TOM. Last night I ate supper at the hotel. 87,MARIA. The food was good? TOM. Eugh. MARIA. I'am told it is good. ‘TOM. Middle of the night I thought I was going to die. MARIA. You know I think this every day, but here I am. God willing. TOM. Maria. MARIA. Si. TOM. Idon’t want Dr. Frit anymore. MARIA. No? TOM. No. I just want to die. MARIA. No, no, no, no, sinkors. Don’t you see, the world are a great battle between the forces of the light, and the forces of the darkness. You must always stay on the side of the forces of light. ‘TOM. Look... Please don’t say where. MARIA. I love you, Tom. TOM. You what? MARIA. Do you love me? TOM. No. MARIA. This is the unrequited love. No? TOM. Si. MARIA. God love you too. ‘TOM. Ineed a doctor! (Phone ring.) MARIA. (Picks up the doll and speaks into it.) Bon jour. Si. Si. Si. Si. No. Giao. (Hangs up.) This was God. He say you should believe in him. TOM. Where is he? MARIA. God? Upstairs. TOM. Dr. Frits, Can I talk to Dr. Fritz? Please? MARIA. Of course you can talk to Dr. Fritz. TOM. Okay. So where is he? MARIA. You want to make an appointment? TOM. I'm getting out of here. (Starts out, but is stopped by pain.) Bugh. MARIA. Ah, but where will you go, sinhors? And how will you get there in your present conditions? (Tom sinks down and lies on the flocr.) TOM. So this is where I'm going to die. I'm going to die here. I'm going to die! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Stille! Stille, du elender Hund! Du niickenloses Tier! (“Quiet! You miserable dog! You spineless beast!”] TOM. What...? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. —Halt's Maul, du verfluchter Wurm! Oder sterben Sie! Na gut! Sterben Sie mal! Was geht das mich an? [Shut up, you confounded worm! Or else die! Go ahead! Die! What does it matter to me?”] TOM. What's going on here...? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. (German accent.) “I am dying, I am dy- ing!” Ja, ja, perhaps you are dying. If T can shtop this dying I vill shtop it. Iam not a magician. I am a physician. But you must listen, ja? You are listening? Ja? TOM. Ja. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Ja? TOM. Ja. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Gut. I am Dr. Fritz Ringswantd’l. How do you do. TOM. Dr. Rings ... MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Vwantd’l. TOM. Vandel. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Vwantd’l. TOM. Vandel. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Dr. Fritz. Okay? TOM. This is definitely fever ... MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Also. Auf gehts. ["So. Get up."] TOM. What? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Shtand up on your footses. TOM. I—I can't MARIA/DR. FRITZ, AUF GEHT’S, DU FAULER SCHWEIN! LOS! LOS! ["Get up, you lazy pig! Move! Move!”] (Tom gets up.) “I can’t get up!" You people. Too many Coca-Colas, it has eaten your brains. You haff no vill anymore. Too much of ze French fries mit ketchup at ze Golden Arches von MacDonald's. TOM. Can I sit in the chair? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. — Ziss is Dr. Fritz’s chairs. Only Dr. Fritz 89can sit in ziss chairs. You — on the table zitzen. Schnell! Schnell! (Fast! Fast!”] (Tom sits on the table, Dr. Fritz takes out a pair of pliers.) Na gut. Open wide. TOM. Open wide? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. You haff ze troothache? TOM. No. MARIA/DR. FRITZ, Was? I hear zere vas a man mit ze troot- hache. TOM. That's Pablo. I'm Tom. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Who you are is not important, you mindless amoeba. (Looks in each of Tom's eyes quickly.) Zo. You haff ze conztipation, ja? TOM. I do have constipation. MARIA/DR. FRITZ, Und zometimes maybe you get a little prickly shtinging pain just behind ze Bllenbogen, hier, hmm? ["Ellenbogen” = “elbow.”] TOM. I do get a little prickly pain right there. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Und you haf ze very ugly dandruff, TOM. I do have dandruff. MARIA/DR. FRITZ, Zo I zee. You must use Head und Shoul- ders. TOM. I do use Head and Shoulders. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Vunce a day, or tvice a day? TOM. Once. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. You must use this twice a day and make ze good bubbly lather, ja? Deine Hand. TOM. What? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Giff me your hand! Schnell! (Takes Tom's hand and feels the pulse.) Your pulse is normal. TOM. You're not wearing a watch. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Your eyesight is excellent. Open your mouth, Stick out your tongue. Go like this. (He makes a rasp berry, Tom does too.) No, like this. (Another raspberry. Tom does 100.) Better. Now put your fingers in your ears. Can you hear me? TOM. What? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Good. (Slaps him on the top of the head.) TOM. Ow! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. This hurts? 90 TOM. Yes it hurts. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. A good sign. (Takes out an ancient stetho- scope.) Lift ze blouse. TOM. Aren't you going to take my temperature? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. _Ziss is a poor country, Meine Herren. 1 haff nothing here! Nothing! (Feels Tom’s forehead quickly.) Be- sides — you haff no fever. TOM. But I'm shaking! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. _Ziss is not fever. Ziss is shaking. Do you luff me? TOM. No! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Vhy not? TOM. I don’t know you. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Good answer. TOM. Look — MARIA/DR. FRITZ. (Looking behind.) Vhere? TOM. Eugh ... MARIA/DR. FRITZ. You are sure you haff no troothache! TOM. I DON'T HAVE A GODDAMN TROOTHACHE! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Just checking. But at four you had ze rheumatic fever. Ja? TOM. I did have the rheumatic fever ... MARIA/DR. FRITZ, At 13 you had ze doppel pneumonia and you thought you were going to TOM. I did. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. You died? TOM. T thought I was MARIA/DR. FRITZ. You know, I thought this every day my- self — then I did dic. TOM. You died? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. I did. It vas August, 1912. I too vas on vacation. I too had a pain in my eugh. Suddenly, kaboom! I am dead. TOM. What was it like to die? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. I had better days. Now I must vander ze universe to complete my good verks. TOM. Wow. MARIA/DR. FRITZ, But I digress. Let’s check your guts. At 9115, you had ze ingrown toenail. For two weeks when you were 17 you had a rash on your buttocks in the shape of Santa Claus. At 20 you had rhinitis, bronchitis, conjunctivitis, and gonorrhea — a busy year for you. You zleep every day from 12:34 to 7:38 in the morning. You eat usually eggs and toast mit raspberry shmier for breakfast, ze garbage fast food for lunch, maybe ze wiener made from pig balls or a slice of Scheisse you call pizza. At ze nightimes you eat in a restaurant, sometimes Chinese, sometimes Italian, you haff ze gnocchis mit mushrooms und ze shmall green zalat. TOM. Amazing. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Eleven forty-two at night you masturbate into a sock. Sometimes the argyle sock, sometimes the tube sock, sometimes the sock mit the clocks on the side. TOM. Good God. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. _Ziss is your entire shtupid life. TOM. So what's wrong with me? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. I haff no idea. Lie down, (Dr. Fritz straps Tom to the table.) TOM. How do you know all these things about me? MARIA/DR. FRITZ, Iam a highly qualified sturgeon. TOM. Surgeon. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Sturgeon. Shmart guy. TOM. You know what's funny? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. I am German. Nothing is funny. Ha, ha, ha, TOM. I'm getting a troothache! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Zympathetic reaction. You vant to buy a zoovenirs? TOM. No. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Vun of a kinds. TOM. oww! MARIA/DR. FRITZ, Na ja. Your case is not so complicated. TOM. What's wrong? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. You need an operation. TOM. An operation....? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Immediately. TOM. You're kidding. Not here. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Here. TOM. "Not in this town. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. You zee another town? TOM. Not in this counuy. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. (Produces some ugly-looking butcher knives) Unfortunately, I haff not the proper tools TOM. (Struggling in the bands.) No. No. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. I haff no anesthetic, ziss could be quite Painful, (Starts sharpening one of the knives.) TOM. But I'm fine! I'm fine! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Fine? Nein. TOM. Will you undo these straps, please? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. The doctor is who, here? TOM. Who is the doctor here? MARIA/DR. FRITZ, (American accent, I'm your mother, Tom. (Tom screams.) Does that make you feel better? Also, das Messer, (°S0, the knife” — approaching Tom with the knife.) TOM. Put that thing down! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Perhaps for you ve need ze besser Messer. (Takes out a bigger knife.) TOM. I DON'T NEED A MESSER! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Okay, You are fine? Then good. (Undoes the straps.) Go. You are free. I am not a torturer, Iam a doc. tor. So go. Go! (Tom gets up, turns and starts to go, but is stopped by a sudden pain that drops him to his knees.) TOM. Bugh. Eugh. Oh God...! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. You believe in God? TOM. Suddenly I feel like total hell. MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Ja, you don’t look too svell, TOM. | I'm getting out of here. (Tries to leave, but stops) MARIA/DR. FRITZ. But vhere vill you go? And how vill you get there in ziss conditions? TOM. (Falling to the floor in pain.) Eugh ... MARIA/DR. FRITZ. “Do you not realize the place you have come to? The powers at verk, ze forces arrayed vhich could crush you like a peanut? (Tom whimpers. Thunderclap.) You half finished your good verks, 1 hope. TOM. No! I haven't done anything! I ate hot dogs made 93from pig balls and I had a rash on my butt and I jerk off into a sock every nig! MARIA/DR. FRITZ. Alas, now ze great battle is joined, Meine Herren, and you are in the middle of the field. Ze forces of light and ze forces of darkness are fighting for you. I only hope zatt you vill find your way to the forces of light very very soon. TOM. But how? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. A good kvestion. (Phone ring.) Ogh, ziss doll has been ringing off ze hook all day. (Picks up the doll and speaks into it.) Pronto, Si. Si. Si Si. (To Tom.) It is for you. TOM. For me...? MARIA/DR. FRITZ. God vants to talk to you. (Tom makes a gesture to say: “Tm not here.") Here. Take it. Be nice. Ziss iss God. TOM. (Takes the doll and speaks into it,) Hello...? Yes, this is he.... Fine. Actually, I'm not feeling so fine, I have a pain in my ... (Realizing the pain is gone.) Well, 1 thought I had pait But listen, um, God, while I've got you on the line, maybe I could ask a few questions.... No, no, no, T understand, you've got other things. So great. I'll see you later — much later. 1 hope. Yes, it was nice talking to you, too. "Bye. (Puts the doll down.) MARIA. (Hispanic again, knitting.) How you are feeling sinhors? TOM. I just talked to God...! MARIA, "You want to buy a souvenirs? BLACKOUT PROPERTY LIST Knitting needles (MARIA) Doll Pliers (MARIA) Old stethoscope (MARIA) Ugly butcher knives (MARIA)jing entitled ENIGMA VARIATIONS premiered as part of an esr (Gara Lives of the Saints at the Philadelphia Theatre COMI’ 4 by Garonaik, Artistic Director) in January 1998-16 9% 1 Cighcing John Randos the see design was by Russell Metheny, Vag design was by Robert Wierzel; the sound design was 1 To as Bergin; and the costume design was by Kaye Voyce- as follows: Nancy Opel BEBE 1 “Anne O'Sullivan BEBE ‘Arnie Burton BILL1 radford Cover Danton Stone ENIGMA VARIATIONS Two identical chairs, side by side at center left, face two different chairs, identical to each other, side by side at center right. Upstage: two adjoining windows, looking out on exactly the same cityscape. A bell rings and lights come up on Bill 1 standing at far left, Bebe 1 at far right. Bill 1 wears a white lab coat and glasses, Bebe 1 an asrractive but demure outfit, BILL 1. Good morning, good morning. Ms. Doppelgiingles? BEBE 1. Actually, Mrs. Doppelgingler. Bebe W. Doppelgingler. ‘With two small dots. BILL 1. I'm Bill Williams. (They crass to each other and shake hands, as Bill 2 and Bebe 2 enter just upstage of them and shake hands. Bill 2 and Bebe 2 wear exactly the same clothes as Bill 1 and Bebe 1 and make every move that their pareners make, shadowing every gesture of Bill 1 and Bebe 1.) BEBE 1. Thank you so much for seeing me, Doctor. BILL 1. Why dont you call me Bill. BEBE 1. Bill. BILL 1. Or Will. BEBE 1. Will. BILL 1. Will ... you have a seat? BEBE 1. Thank you. (The two Bebe sit and simultaneously adjust their skirts at their knees, as the two Bill’ sit and in identical fashion adjust their identical glasses) BILL 1. So. You have been having a problem. BEBE 1. A couple of problems, you might say. But may we speak alone? BILL 1. (Looks behind himself) We are alone. BEBE 1. (Turns and looks over her shoulder.) Where were we? BILL 1. We were having a couple of problems. 9i come £0, BEBE 1. I'm not actually sure you're the right person t0 cot Doctor. (The Bills make a gesture and she corrects herself) pa = Will, —- Well, you see, lately I've been having this funny thar there's more tothe world chan J thought a 1. Could you ... expand a litte? one DUBE i. (Tikes deep breath, expanding and contracting) leas f eee Tim alone in a room, Pm somehow ... notalone. As ifit’s no just me there a L1. Mm-hm, mm-hm. =e r BEBE 1. And it's not just me. I mean — when I'm with someone ne in the it’s ‘st as if there’s one more than one of that someo! ein the Seda if that one room isnt the only room I'm in. Tes as if the world were somehow ... somehow ... double. Rive a BILL I. A singular problem, Mrs. Doppelgingler. Bur yous © Singular person. Both of us know that. Two things Youre married: BEBE 1. I'm single. We split up. BILL 1. Any sibling?’ BEBE 1. My ewin sister, in St. Paul, 4 BILL 1. ‘The twin city, How have you been sleeping? BEBE 1. I'm up half the night in a double bed. read up. , BEBE T. pees Doctor, Last week I played doubles without a partner. ; BILL 1. Did you wi BEBE 1. Twice! ‘ BILL 1. How did you manage chav . Duplicity. Doublemine? aeey LU Nevthanl you. Would you read the eye chart, please? (Tivo identical eye charts fy in, side by side.) BEBE 1. Which onc? BILL 1. The one on the left. BEBE 1. “E-TE-10.” BILL 1. And on the right? BEBE 1. “E-LE-1L0.” BILL 1, Excellent. (The oats fly beck out.) FE 1, I know this sounds prerty odd. ; Ree Oh, wen my profesion hea all kinds of O-D-D-D items. BEBE 1. “O-D-D-D”...? 10 BILL 1. Odd. But I have news for you, Mrs. Doppelgingler: You are not alone. BEBE 1. In what way? BILL 1. In two ways. (The Bills rise together and look out the two windows.) Each person, which is to say everybody, looks out at the world and wonders, though apparently there's only one, if there aren't other worlds, and asks if there isn’t more to it, or them, chan they, that is he or she, think. Or chinks. Maybe, perhaps, there's possibly a higher reality. Or realities. Multiple realities, doing dou- ble dury. In any cases, I'm not just Bill W. Williams, and you're not just Bebe — Bebe? — Bebe W. Doppelgiingler. BEBE 1. Bebe W. W. Doppelgiingler. BILL 1. Exactly! And you alone can help yourself. BEBE 1. If not me, then who? BILL 1. (Sitting.) I stand corrected. The only alternatives ha ha hal is that you're crazy. You're not crazy, are you? BEBE 1. No. No. BILL 1. Delusional? Mad? BEBE 1. No... BILL 1. Any — or many — multiple “personalities”? BEBE 1. No. No. No. No. (The Bebes take out identical handleer- chief.) Its a if 'm living some kind of double life. Am I ill, Will? BILL 1. Well, I think we should see each other again. Possibly again and again. Maybe more than once. (Presses intercom button in his chair arm.) Fifi — would you come in here, please? (Fifi enters, a hairy, burly guy in a nurse's white dress and shoes. He makes no attempt to seem “feminine” or “effeminate.”) FIFI. Yes, doctor. You wanted me? BILL 1. Bebe — Fifi. Fifi — Bebe. Mademoiselle LeBlanc is my temporary assistant FIFI. Oui, oui. BEBE 1. Yes, we, we met. BILL 1. Fifi, a wee matter. Would you set up a couple of appoint- ments for Mrs. Doppelgingler? FIFI. Two small dots? BEBE 1. Two small dots. BILL 1. I see your points. Same timeall right? BEBE 1. Fine, fine. ulBILL 1. Fif? FIFI. Oui, oui. (Fifi exits) BILL 1. A wonderful woman. Dual citizenship. And exclusively bisexual. BEBE 1, Doctor, can you suggest anything for me? - BILL 1. Maybe, Bebe — a double dose of BI and B2.taken ewice Prery couple of days for ewo weeks. As a one-time treatment. Are you covered? > YEBE 1, They pay half. Would you send me a bill, Bill? BILL 1. In duplicate. BEBE 1. (Rising.) Thank you so, so much. BILL 1. You're very, very welcome. (Bill 1 and Bebe 1 shake hands, Dill 2 and Bebe 2 shake hands. As they do so, they feeze and we bear ia bel ring. The scene in the windows changes toa different cityscape.) SILL 2. “Good morning, good morning. Ms. Doppelgéngler BEBE 2, Actually, Mrs. Doppelgingler. Bebe W. W. Doppelgingler. BILL 2. Two emall dots BEBE 2. That’ right. Thank you so much for seeing me. BILL 2. Will you have a seat? (The four st exactly as before.) So. You've been having a recurring problem. BEBE 2. I have, Doctor. BILL 2. I am Doctor, but you can call me Bill. BEBE 2. Bill. BILL 2. Or Will. BEBE 2. Will. BILL 2. Well? BEBE 2. Well, I'm not sure you're the right person to, come fo, pu you see 1 keep having this feeling... I keep having this fecling Tve been through all this before. BILL 2. Could you expand a little? BEBE 2. (Takes a deep breath, expanding and contracting) | feel as if Tve been through all this before. 1s as if this isn the first time this has happened co me. BILL 2. Have we ever been through this before? BEBE 2. Never. BILL 2. Have you felt this way often? BEBE 2. This isnt the first time. BILL 2. Do your meals repeat on you? 12 BEBE 2. Again and again. 1 BILL 2. You aiceraes Sha? iy BEBE 2. Nothing, I just keep reiterating. aaa se your moose en is a recurring problem. 5 juently, sf i BEBE2, Frequent. In bought repeating psa BEBE 2. Repeating pistol. BILL 2. Will you continue? BEBE 2. I certainly hope so. BILL 2 No, mean — pee coninuc . Pm not sure you're the right person ro come ro, b see I keep having ths feeling... I keep having this feeling I've been sc hep having thisfesing. hep having feng ve een BILL, Could you expan ie . (Takes a deep breath, expanding and contracting) I feel ive been chrough il hs bobcat oe he ace ie cen shrug el hoe af ihe fit ie 2. Have we ever been ; BILL 2 Hive w through this before? BILL 2. Have you fee this way often? BEBE 2, This inthe fe ine 2. Do your meals repeat on you? : you? BEBE 2. Again and again, I reiterate. BILL 2. You reiterate what? BEBE 2. Nothing, I just keep reiterating. BILL 2, So your ecuring problem is ewring problem. . Frequently. I even b ing pi BEBE 2. Frequent Jon ought a repeating pistol. BEBE 2. Repeating pistol. BILL 2. Will you continue? BEBE 2. I certainly hope so. BILL 2. No, I mean — please continue. BEBE 2 Ym not sure you the righ person w come to, Door — L 2. Lee me say one word. A word T'm sure youve heard before, Mis, Doping: 2. Pronounced with a silly sight “i” BEBE 2 Prono wth ily igh "9 Die ma BEBE 2, So its ... déja vuuu? 13BILL 2. Déa vuuu. I repeat. BEBE 2. Déa vuuu? BILL 2. Déa vuuu, Mrs. Doppelgingler, you have a German ame but a French disease. I call that serious. BEBE 2. Well this isnt something I havent heard before. Déa oun? BILL 2. Déja vuuu. BEBE 2. But this time it really means something. BILL 2. Ditto. BEBE 2. But Doctor, what can I, what can I cuuu — about déja ut? BILL 2. [think we should see each other again. Possibly again and again. Maybe more than once. BEBE 2. (Rising.) Thank you so much, Will. BILL 2. So— come again? BEBE 2. I said thank you so much, Will. BILL 2. I mean will you come again. BEBE 2. I said chank you so much, Wil. BILL 2. No, I mean, will you come here one more time? BEBE 2. I'd love to. BILL 2. Just one more time? BEBE 2. I said I'd love to. BILL 2. No, I mean will you come... BEBE 2. I will, Will. BILL 2. One more time or many more times? BEBE 2. How about next week? BILL 2. Lets re-confirm. Fifi? (Fifi enters.) FIFI. Oui, oui, Doctor. BILL 2, Repeat the usual. (Fifi exit. Bill shakes hands with Bebe 2 and Bill 2 shakes hands with Bebe 1, and they freeze a moment as iz bell rings. The windows change to two totaly diferent scenes.) BEBE 1, (Bebe 2 gestures as if shes speaking, while Bebe 1, remain- ing very stil, speaks for ber) Good morning, good morning, How are you, Bill? BIEL 1, (Bill 2 gestures as if he’ speaking, while Bill 1, remaining very still, speaks for him.) Thank you for seeing me, Dr Doppelgingler. BEBE 2. (Gestures as before.) BEBE 1, That's what we've here 14 BILL 2. (Gestures as before.) BEBE 2. (Gestures EE BILL 2. (Gestures as before.) BEBE 2. (Gestures.) BILL 2. (Gestures,) BEBE 2. (Gestures, BILL2. (Gestures.) BEBE 2. (Gestures, BILL 2. (Gestures, BEBE 2. (Gestures,) BILL 2. (Gestures.) BEBE 2. (Gestures.) BILL 2. (Gestures) BEBE 2, (Gestures) BILL 2. (Gestures) for. And please, call me Bebe. Won't you have a seat? BILL 1. Thank you. (The four sit) BEBE 1. Apparently you seem to be having a possible problem. BILL 1. Apparently I seem to be BEDE 1 Could you tmp BEBE you amplify a BILL 1. (Very loudly) 1 DON'T KNOW If YOURE THE RIGHT PERSON TO COME BEBE 1. I mean, could you expand a litle. BILL 1. Idorit know ifyou're the right person, Doctor ... (Bebe 2 gestures and he corrects himself) «.. Bebe ... But I am tormented lately by this feeling that every- thing — everything around us — everything in the world is just an illusion. BEBE 1. Really? BILL 1. Its all a fantasy. A fig- ment, A facade, A phantasm, A Ise front. A fata morgana. And fan i ‘ution ate 1. Fascinating. Would you read the eye chart, please? (Bebe 2 gestures to : NO EYE CHART FLIES TN) BILL 1. Which one? BEBE 1. aie on the left. BILL 1. incoherently as i in deadl fear) oi BEBE 1. Good. Now read line two. BILL 1. (Babbles incoherently.) 15BEBE 2. (Gestures,) BILL 2. (Gestures.) BEBE 2. (Gestares.) BILL 2. (Gestures,) BEBE 2. (Gestures,) BILL 2. (Gestures,) BEBE 2. (Gestures) BILL 2. (Gestures) BEBE 2. (Gestures,) BILL 2. (Gestures,) BEBE 2. (Gestures.) BILL 2. (Gestures,) BEBE 2. (Gestures) ‘BEBE 1. Very good. And the eye chart on the right? BILL 1. There is no chart on the right. BEBE 1. Excellent. BILL 1. Doctor, this feeling fol- ows me wherever I go. Or seem to go. I's as if, whatever I'm secing, or whatever I seem to be seeing, isnft what's really there. BEBE 1. I see. BILL 1. As if all cis is just ... 2 charade. Or a game. Or a veil. (Takes a veil out of his pocket. Terrified:) This is a veil! Isnt ic? BEBE 1. Do you see a veil? BILL 1. (Puts veil away) Never mind. Maybe I'm not talking to you. Maybe I'm not talking to you. ‘Maybe I'm nor the one who’ not ceven talking to someone who's not ever. you. BEBE 1. Talk to me, Bill. BILL 1. [sall this actually nothing with something else behind it, ot is it something with nothing behind it? BEBE 1. (Has no idea what het talking about.) Ubhhhhhihhbhh- hhhhhbh ... BILL 1, Maybe I don’t even have a problem. Maybe I only think I have a problem. Doctor, what do you think you think? BEBE 1. Well. I think ... (We hear a fast version of “Pop Goes the Weasel” as the four circle the chairs. The music stops and they all stop.) 16 BEBE 1. I think we're making progress. (The music continues and ‘again they ran around the chairs. Fifi enters and blows a gym ceach whistle and the four freeze in position as the music sops. Windows change to the scenes they had at the beginning.) FIFI. (Tb u:) In the great dance of life, the possible positions are so many, the organs afe so few. Some years ago, a scientist floated aman face down in a deep pool. The man in the pool wore a pair of special goggles that blanked out his vision into a field of pure and limidles white. After several hours the man began to halluci- nate. He thought he was walking down a street in Paris. In afic- tive cafe near the Eiffel Tower he hallucinated a beautiful woman and immediately fell in love with her. I, Fifi LeBlanc, was chat woman. But am I really Fifi LeBlanc, former au pair — or am I Aphrodite, the eternal goddess of love? Or am I, as I have begun to suspect, Franklin Spong, a gym teacher from Kankakee, wear- ing adress And how does this fect my health insurance? The need for meaning! The search for answers! The great question! ‘Class, what is the question? aa BILLS and BEBES, Help! FIFI. Correct. Everybody into the pool! (Fifi blo BI, xybody pool! (Fifi blows the whictle. 7i! :RY AT TWICKNAM VICARAGF was first pre- See aalpar ‘of a revised Lives of the Saints at the Berkshire ‘Theatre Festival (Kate Maguire, Artistic Director) in August ee Je was directed by John Rando; the set design was by Russe! Metheny; the lighting design was by Robert Wierzel, the soun design was by Jim Van Bergin; and the costume design was by Kaye Voyce. The cast was as follows: Nancy Opel SARAH. ¢ Danton Stone aa eas ‘Anne O'Sullivan : Arnie Burton ROGER JEREMY 20 THE MYSTERY AT TWICKNAM VVICARAGE In the dark before curtain: A grandfather clock chimes seven times. Then we hear three pistol shots. A woman (Sarah) screams. Lights come up on Jeremy Thumpington- Ffienes — that’s pronounced "Fub-Fub-Fines” — lying dead on a rug at center with a drinks glass in his hand. Inspector Dexter, in a trenchcoat, is kneeling over the body, ‘Around them are Mona Thumpington-Fffienes, the Rev. Roger Penworthy-Pilks, Sarah Penworthy-Pilks, and a couch. Masterpiece Theatre accents. SARAH. Good Lord. Is he...? Ishe...? Is he...? DEXTER. Dead? SARAH. Is he dead? DEXTER. Yes, 'es dead. Mr. Jeremy Thumpington-Fuh-Fuh- Fines ’as been shot three times through the heart. Probably with- in this very room, probably on this very carpet. Very nice carpet, by the way. SARAH. Thank you, Inspector. ROGER. (Very plummy accent.) Vm syorry, Inspyector Dexter. Did you say Jeremy is... Jeremy is... Jeremy is dyead? DEXTER. ‘is ventricles ’ave been completely ventilated, sir. MONA. And yer such a brief short while ago Jerry was 50 alive, he was so terribly, terribly alive. SARAH. Certainly changes our dinner plans. ROGER. (Pronounces “shooting” to rhyme with “footing. ") 1 presume this was a shuuting ekcident, Inspyector Dexter? DEXTER. A what? ROGER. A shuuting ekcident. DEXTER. Oh, “shuuting ekcident.” No, Rector, this was no mere shuuting ekcident. 21SARAH, Bue you don't mean that it was...? Te was...? Te was...? DEXTER. Murder? SARAH, Muhdeh? DEXTER. Yes. It was murder. } ROGER, SARAH and MONA. (Sharp, horrified intake of breath.) ROGER. Muhdel MONA. Muhdeh. SARAH. Muhdeh.. i DEXTER. And I believe i was somebody in this very room who murdered him. i ROGER, SARAH and MONA. (Sharp, horrified intake of breath.) MONA. In this room? ROGER. In this room? SARAH. In this —? ; DEXTER. (Cutting her off) I chink that’s enough of that. Was it you who killed him, Reverend Roger Penworthy-Pilks, the Rector f Twicknam? : ROGER. I? How dyare you insinuate such a thing! You might say 1... 1... Toved the man, dyemmir, in some ... squishy way. DEXTER. Was it you who killed him, Mrs. Reverend Sarah Penworthy-Pilks? SARAH. Ie was not I, for your information, Inspector Dexter. DEXTER. You're quite a cool, as the Americans say, cucumber. Or did you, the man's own wife do it, Mona Thumpingron-Fub- Fuh-Fuh-Fuh-Fines? 2 MONA. Only two “Fuhs” in “Fuh-Fuh-Fines.’ DEXTER. Sorry. ae MONA. (Immediately hysterical.) No, | didn‘ kill him! I swear it Yes, yes, I wanted him dead sometimes. I planned to murder him every now and again, often on Tuesdays for some reason, I even bought 2 rare Pakistani poison and a set of pinking shears chat might've seemed an accident. But no I didn kill him! I'm inno- nt | swear it by all that’s holy! DEXT! aang a bit much, ifyou ask me, Well, one of you did it and I'm going to find out who. SARAH. I suggest you question Mona. MONA. I suggest you question Sarah. DEXTER. Rector? 2 ROGER. I suggest you question them too. MONA. I always envied you, Sarah. I confess it. Your beauty. Your coolness. Your beautiful bottom. Your thrilling long, long legs. Your beautiful bottom. Did I say beautiful bottom already? ‘Your Wedgewood. Your tea cozies. SARAH. And my husband. MONA. And your husband. SARAH. You slept with him, didn’t you? MONA. Only once, but it wasnt successful! SARAH. I was speaking to Roger, thank you. You slepe with Jeremy, didn’t you? ROGER. Only ewice, and it wasn't... very successful. SARAH. Well I've slepe with you twice and I can believe that. “And I slept with Jeremy three times and we were very successful. ROGER. Viper. SARAH, Amphibian. (They stick their tongues out at each other.) DEXTER. Recor. ROGER. Inspector? DEXTER. Jeremy Thumpington-Fuh-Fuh-Fines was quite sexu- ally active, was he not? ROGER. Inspector, the man was insatiable. I once came in here and thought he was sleeping on the sofa, actually he was sleeping with the sofa. The liaison went on for some months, until he chucked the sofa for my green leather wingchair. DEXTER. Youre not suggesting the sofa might've shor him —? ROGER. I suggest you question the sofa. Maybe then you'll find the trooth. DEXTER. The what? ROGER. The trooth. You know. The fyects. DEXTER. The what? ROGER. The fyects. DEXTER. Ah, the “fyects.” Yes, I demand the fyects about what happened here tonight! MONA. Oh, who cares who killed Jerry! He's dead, isn't he? ‘That's all thas important, isn’ ie? That he's gone to glory? Passed over? Gone west? Put out to sea? Kicked the bucket? Cashed in, popped off, pegged out, curled up his toes, slipped his cable, ‘on the carpet during cocktails? Isn't that what's important? 23