duck2.html

Duck Duck Elk
a play
by William M. Razavi

Scene 1: "Saturday in the park, I think it was the 8th of July"

The cast ambles onstage and sits on the edge of the stage as if on the edge of a stream. They stare out ambivalently across the stream as if watching something going on in another town. Eventually, Tom, the lead rustic speaks. He is flanked by Bob and Vern, the auto mechanics.

TOM: Looks like another parade over there.

[Various nods and murmurs of assent.]

VERN: Theygotthattheredangyankeewashingtonpostmarchjohnphillipsousahooha.

[Vigorous nods and murmurs of assent.]

TOM: I guess we should get this play started.

[Various nods and murmurs of assent.]

VERN: Gottagetthattheredangoldprologuedone.

BOB: You said it, Vern.

TOM: Well, let's go then.

("The Entertainer", or some sort of Scott Joplin tune, plays while the cast walk around giving each other various byzantine signals. Finally, it's just Tom, Spoon and JJJ Schmidt left on stage. Spoon is eating an apple with a spoon. She is the kind of person in whom this trait might be considered charming or even endearing. JJJ Schmidt is a nondescript man whose favorite dessert is apple strudel and whose favorite chess piece is the bishop because you can use it to put your opponentís eyes out. But for all of that, he seems like a perfectly nice young man.]

SPOON: Uncle Tom, Uncle Tom!

TOM: Umm, Spoon, about that.

SPOON: Yes, Uncle Tom?

TOM: Why don't you sit down? I have something to say to you.

SPOON: Okay, Uncle Tom.

TOM: I think you should stop calling me that.

SPOON: Oh my God! Am I adopted? How come no one ever told me? Oh my God!

TOM: You're not adopted, Spoon.

SPOON: Oh, that's a relief, because then I'd have so many issues about why my genetic profile is so similar to my parents and that would feed into the oh so cliché issues of nature vs. nurture. I mean, I'd like to think we can move beyond that, don't you?

TOM: I reckon you can call me Tom, if you'd like.

SPOON: Okay, Tom. Tom. That's so mature. Oh my God. I feel so mature. Tom. Wow.

TOM: Well, don't wear it out. Now, was there something you wanted, Spoon?

SPOON: Yes, Tom. I thought you should meet my boyfriend. Tom, this is JJJ Schmidt. JJJ this is my Uncle Tom, but I just call him Tom now.

TOM: Schmidt. That's German, ain't it?

JJJ: Yes, sir.

TOM: JJJ? What's with all the J's?

JJJ: It stands for John Jacob.

TOM: What's the extra J for?

JJJ: Jingleheimer.

TOM: John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt? You know, that's my name too.

JJJ: That's never been funny.

TOM: No, I guess it wouldn't be. You got any vices, boy?

JJJ: I guess I do like chess a bit more than I should.

TOM: Chess? Hmmm. What about sports? You play football?

JJJ: No, sir. I play baseball.

JJJ & TOM: It's a gentlemanís sport.

TOM: White Sox or Red Sox?

JJJ: My daddy always said you wear white socks and you support the Red Sox.

TOM: Your daddy sounds like a smart man.

JJJ: He's dead now.

TOM: Pretty smart for a dead man. Was he anybody famous?

JJJ: Have you ever heard of the Reverend Johann Sebastian Jingleheimer Schmidt?

TOM: Can't say I have. Can't say it matters, either. Well, I suppose you sound like a
good solid young man. Just treat Spoon well and I won't have to beat the crap out of you.

JJJ: Yes sir.

TOM: You like Civil War reenactments?

JJJ: Can't say I've ever been to one.

TOM: There's nothing more important than learning about the War Between the States.
It was the cauldron our fair nation was boiled in like a nice seasoned dumpling. It was the best of times and the worst of times. It was all of that and a bag of chips. We take our reenacting pretty seriously here, son, so I highly encourage you to join us.

JJJ: Well, alright I guess.

SPOON: JJJ, why don't you go get me some puddin'.

JJJ: Alright, Spoon. You want anything else?

SPOON: Naw.

[JJJ exits.]

SPOON: Isn't he great?

TOM: Do you love him?

SPOON: I think I do.

TOM: Then he's alright.

SPOON: How do you measure love?

TOM: Well, some folks measure it in inches and some folks measure it in feet and some
folks measure it in dollars and cents, but I figure if youíre gonna measure it at all you should try to be scientific about it and get its atomic weight based on the proportion of the elements that itís made of.

SPOON: Right. So, what are the elements of love?

TOM: Gold, Hydrogen, Oxygen, Neon and Tungsten.

SPOON: Right. Whatís the atomic weight of Tungsten?

TOM: Anything you want it to be, Spoon. Anything you want it to be.

SPOON: Thanks Uncle Tom, youíre the best.

[Spoon exits. Larry, the potato guy enters.]

TOM: I hate it when she calls me that.

LARRY: Tom.

TOM: Larry.

LARRY: Tom.

TOM: Larry.

LARRY: Larry.

TOM: Tom. Dang! Even in slow motion. Howís the potato business?

LARRY: Booming, Tom, booming. Everyone loves potatoes. Germans love potatoes.
Russians love potatoes. Czechs love potatoes. Slovaks love potatoes. Serbs, Croats, Slovenes, AlbaniansÖthey all love potatoes.

TOM: What kind of potatoes do you have today?

LARRY: The classic russet potato. Itís the common denominator of the potato world.
Itís the Roman Empire of the potato world. The noble russet. The brave russet. The russet is the bulwark of western civilization. The russet potato has long been the only thing standing between us and the evil hordes of egg noodles and long grain rice that threaten our way of life.

TOM: You got any french fries?

LARRY: Nope, just the plain potato in all its versatile glory.

TOM: You might try making some french fries.

LARRY: Are you saying that the plain potato isnít good enough for you?
Are you insinuating that the potato has to hide behind fancy preparation in order to be fully appreciated?

TOM: Well, itís not like you can just peel it and bite into it. Itís not like itís an orange.

LARRY: Are you comparing the potato to mere citrus? Of course you can just pick it up
and eat it. Is it not the apple of the earth? If you mash it, does it not mash?
If you ferment it does it not become vodka? If you roast it does it not roast?
And if you poison it, does it not die? Pomme de terre. The apple of the earth. Has there ever been anything like it in the history of the world?

TOM: Yams.

LARRY: Donít talk to me about yams. Donít even get me started. Thereís only one
potato in the world. One potato, just like in the game. Good day, Tom.

TOM: Good day, Larry.

[Larry exits.]

TOM: Apple of the earth? Apple of my ass!

[Blackout.]

Scene 2 : "American Pie"

Elkhorn Tavern enters. He is holding a vintage fruit pie in its original wrapper.

ELKHORN TAVERN: I believe in America. I believe in the principles upon which
America is based. I believe three is a magic number. And I believe that you can put some fruit filling in a turnover and fry it or bake it, maybe even put some sort of glaze on it, and that the result will be something like a miracle. Yes, I believe in pie. I believe that you can get three, four, sometimes five of these, for a dollar. I believe that somewhere out there a woman named Dolly Madison is rolling out the dough for the crust and picking the fruit for the filling and then making each of these delightful combinations by hand. I believe that I am in love with that woman. I love pie and I love women who love pie. I love to watch them bite into the crust and eat the filling. Donít get me wrong, itís not about any sort of oral fixation. Oh, no. Itís all about the pie. Itís about the lusciously sweet filling, those blueberries and cherries, the chunks of apple that are ever so slightly crisp. Itís about the way the lemon filling makes her slightly wince from the tartness. Sometimes, I imagine Dolly Madison eating one of these pies. I imagine her early nineteenth century elegance as she picks a cherry pie up from a silver platter. I can see her delicately take a bite from the corner. She gets mostly crust, but with a hint of filling. Yeah, thatís the stuff.

STAGE MANAGER: Why donít you just eat the pie yourself?

ELKHORN TAVERN: I canít. I wish I could, but I just canít.

STAGE MANAGER: Why not?

ELKHORN TAVERN: I was young. [Music starts.] I was just a kid.
I thought I could make my own pie. I didnít know what I was doing. I just did it. I didnít know the horrors that come with bad pie. I can remember taking that big bite. I remember feeling the hard, salty crust, the sticky tasteless filling, and when I bit into the hard rubbery balls, I just couldnít go on. I couldnít go on. I had made the pie with play dough and Elmerís glue with mercurochrome in it, and the final touch was the bag of hi-bounce balls I used instead of cherries. How was I to know? How? I was just a kid. I didnít knowÖjust didnít know. Ever since that day, Iíve wanted the pie, but I just canít bring myself to take that final step. I canít do it. I can only watch others and get my thrills vicariously. You see, itís not the pie itself, but the idea of pie that keeps me going. Itís like baked magic.

[Spoon crosses the stage. She is spooning out the filling of a pie. Elkhorn leers.]

ELKHORN TAVERN: Do you believe in magic?

[Blackout.]

Scene 3 ? ìThe Spuds of Navaroneî

Lights up on Larry, who is performing a play using two potatoes.

LARRY: ìIf music be the food of love, then play on.î

[Spoon enters and watches amused.]

LARRY: ìIíll be revenged on the whole pack of you.î

SPOON: Larry?

LARRY: Spoon.

SPOON: Larry.

LARRY: Spoon. You want some potatoes?

SPOON: Do you have any of those red potatoes?

LARRY: No, just russets. Good, simple russets. Simple, good russets.
The great bulwark of the potato republic.

SPOON: Have you ever thought of branching out? Maybe you could get some of those
fancy French blue potatoes?

LARRY: Branch out? Did they tell Shakespeare to try detective fiction? Did they tell
Edison to try his hand at professional baseball? Did they tell Abraham Lincoln to become a canasta player for the sake of variety? Did they say ìHey, Homer, we like your epic poems but maybe you need to make some barbecue sauce tooî?

SPOON: Who do you mean by ìtheyî?

LARRY: Them.

SPOON: Who?

LARRY: The secret cabal that controls the world.

SPOON: Do you think they control potato cultivation?

LARRY: I had never thought of that.

SPOON: Maybe they have a secret plan to destroy variation in crops.
Theyíre probably hand in hand with Monsanto.

LARRY: Monsanto? No. No! No! I mean, I had always thought of them as a pretty
benign secret cabal, but now I can see that theyíre just plain evil. They must be stopped. I hereby rededicate myself, reconsecrate myself. No. I canít do that. The potatoes have already dedicated and consecrated me. But I have a new burst of freedom. I will seek out all kinds of potatoes. Give me your red, your white, old potatoes and new potatoes, even your sweet potatoes. I will gather them and
I will keep them safe. Away from me, you secret cabal! I stand for the little tuber. I stand for the simple potato! Who stands with me?! I said, WHO STANDS WITH ME?! When they come to take your potatoes away will you let them? Hell no! When they come for your french fries, what will you do? Will you let them take it away from you, or will you stand and fight? Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike!

SPOON: Wow, I never knew potatoes could be so exciting.

LARRY: Can I interest you in a potato?

SPOON: Yes.

LARRY: You dig it out of the ground and wash it off. Look at the glorious potato.
Do you want it?

SPOON: Yes!

LARRY: What will you do for this potato?

SPOON: Anything!

LARRY: Anything?

SPOON: Yes.

LARRY: Well, then follow me!

[She grabs the potato and follows.]

SPOON: Have you been drawing faces on these potatoes?

LARRY: Thatís nothing, come on. To the potato fields!

SPOON: To the potato fields!

[They march off triumphantly. Blackout.]

Scene 4 ? ìThe Doctor Is Inî

A Doctorís Office. Doctor Lykes is trying to provoke an interesting response from the Patient.

DOCTOR LYKES: Cock.

PATIENT: Roach.

DOCTOR LYKES [emphatically]: Cock.

PATIENT: Roach.

DOCTOR LYKES: Cock.

PATIENT: Roach.

DOCTOR LYKES: Cock.

PATIENT: Roach.

DOCTOR LYKES: Cock.

PATIENT: Roach.

DOCTOR LYKES: Cock.

PATIENT: Roach.

DOCTOR LYKES: COCK!

PATIENT: ROACH!

DOCTOR LYKES: COCK! COCK! COCK! COCK! COCK! COCK!

PATIENT: Roach.

DOCTOR LYKES: Cock.

PATIENT: Roach.

[This may continue as needed until the lights fade out.]

Scene 5 ? ìPeoriaî

TOM: I am proud to present an old friend of mine.
So, ladies and gentlemen give a hand to Peoria.

[Peoria enters.]

PEORIA: Thank you, thank you, thank you. Iím here tonight on behalf of the author,
who is unable or unwilling to take matters into his own hand.
This is the part of the play where a character speaks the playwrightís thought in a direct fashion, removing even that thin veil of fiction that covers the rest of the characters. In doing this he is, of course, hearkening back to the days of the Greeks who single-handedly invented drama without any influence from any other cultures. And if you believe that, then I have a few other myths for you. So, as Aristotle was wont to say: pass the olive oil, Iím not so regular these days.
Now, do we have any folks here from the state of Illinois?
Well, thatís nice for you. You want some pie? Okay. Weíll work on that.
You want that Chicago-style? Iím sorry, we donít do that here.
Before I go on, I should say a few words about myself. My name is Peoria.
My mother thought it was a pretty name. She thought it was a flower.
Peoria is actually the name of a city in Illinois, the land of Lincoln, corrupt politicians and the Chicago Cubs.
One was shot, the other should be, and the last couldnít get a hit these days if you threw volleyballs at them.
Now, Peoria, is from the ancient Phoenician words Pee, meaning ìurine,î and ria, meaning ìexcess of .î Hence Pee-o-ria.
At some point in the late third century B.C. some Carthaginian sailors landed in Illinois. They were most likely given some bad directions by the residents of Cahokia, who were notorious for their poor sense of direction, and they ended up starting a settlement which they named for the chronic medical condition which plagued their journey. Their settlement, however, was doomed to failure because it was populated by a bunch of sailors and no self-respecting mound-dwelling pre-Columbian girl would set foot in that pigsty of a town. Eventually, they packed up their bags and left. Peoria survived and thrived as a second rate musical theatre town with a couple of factories where they produceÖsexual devices and novelties.
Now, some folks would say that itís tough growing up sharing a name with a town like Peoria, and theyíre absolutely right. There arenít many names north of Mason-Dixon that are worth using for people. In the south you have Austin, and Houston, Dallas, Charlotte, Jackson, Beaumont, Shreveport, even Richmond and Nashville.
Kind of charming, isnít it? But you just try to say something like:
ìI love you, Peoria.î ìWill you marry me, Peoria?î ìI think youíre sexy, Peoria.î ìNice dress, Peoria.î Doesnít exactly roll off the tongue, now, does it?

PEORIA: Now, I know that the author is going to be upset because Iíve skipped his
ìparabasisî and his big diatribe about the state of academic scholarship and why 16th century Dutch painters wore such big pants, but by the time he makes bail Iíll be long gone so Iím just gonna say what I have to say.
All you expectant mothers out there, when it comes time to name your child get yourself some sort of botany book, ëcause an Illinois road atlas just wonít cut it. Stop the madness. Thank you.

Scene 6 ? ìHildegard the Barbarianî

B.K. SMOOT: Hello, Iím noted paleontologist B.K. Smoot. Tonight weíll be exploring
the origins of human development. While the details are sketchy it is believed
that human culture first developed among women. In primitive culture the woman played the central role in the organization of day to day activities such as hunting and the building of shelter. The superior organizational skills of these women proved most valuable in when it came to disposing of mammoth carcasses, as it appears that only women knew how to use all the parts of the beast. In the rare instances where male dominated mammoth hunt sites have been found there is a tendency toward lack of organization evident in the random scattering of bones. Finally, while women are clearly more nurturing, caring, intelligent, and, letís face it, sexier, than men; the most recent studies in primitive human behavior bear witness to the fact that the female of the species is more deadly than the male.

[Lights change. Frieda of Gainesville and Alice from Decatur sit playing cards or something like that.]

FRIEDA: Is it today?

ALICE: Itís today.

FRIEDA: Will she come?

ALICE: Surely.

FRIEDA: Whoís Shirley?

ALICE: Thatís an old joke.

FRIEDA: Not funny?

ALICE: Do you see me laughing? Am I laughing?

FRIEDA: Sheíll come today.

ALICE: Surely.

FRIEDA: Youíre right. Itís not funny. Will she be wearing pants?

ALICE: Sheíll be wearing clothes.

FRIEDA: Clothes, surely; but will it be pants?

ALICE: A skirt? I donít know. What are we wearing?
FRIEDA: Clothes.

ALICE: Clothes, surely. But what are the words for it?

FRIEDA: Words, symbols, signs. Itís so complex. Itíll be good to have a simple life.

ALICE: Simple is the best. Except for complex. Complex is nice.
Not as good as simple.

FRIEDA: She will be here?

ALICE: I think I hear her now.

FRIEDA: Do you recognize her sound?

ALICE: No. Iím just guessing.

[Hildegard of Jacksonville enters.]

FRIEDA: It looks like you guessed right.

HILDEGARD: Greetings! I am Hildegard of Jacksonville!
I am the one you have been seeking.

FRIEDA: I am Frieda of Gainesville.

ALICE: And Iím AliceÖAlice from Decatur.

HILDEGARD: Frieda of Gainesville and Alice from Decatur. We shall be companions.
We will break bread, travel the countryside and kick ass.

FRIEDA: Surely.

HILDEGARD: Thatís not funny.

ALICE: Thatís just what I said.

HILDEGARD: Where shall we start? How do we begin our mission to dismantle the
patriarchy and return power to our sisters?

ALICE: Letís go to the Piggly Wiggly!

FRIEDA: No, not the Piggly Wiggly.

ALICE: I thought we might need some groceries. I mean Hildegard hereís come all the
way from Jacksonville and Iím a little hungry.

FRIEDA: We need to strike while the non-phallic shaped iron is hot.
We need to put men in their places.

ALICE: We need a couple of Ho-hos and maybe a Ding Dong and some RC.

FRIEDA: Aw, come on, Alice. Are we going to get this started or not?
Iím sick of planning to destroy this sham of male domination and I want to get started right away.

ALICE: We canít destroy phallocentrism on an empty stomach.
Thatís something only an idiot man would do. Letís get some Twinkies and something from Little Debbie.

FRIEDA: Little Debbie?! You mean that shill for the male desire to dominate a weak
childlike woman who gives away her sweet cupcakes to men at cut-rate prices?

HILDEGARD: We most assuredly donít anything as degrading as Little Debbie or
Ho-hoís and we certainly donít need to be touching any Ding Dongs. We shall go to the Piggly Wiggly and we will purchase some veggie patties and a large RC. Then weíre going to kick some ass.

FRIEDA: I knew she would come.

ALICE: Surely.

HILDEGARD: Let us gather, sisters and dedicate ourselves to this bond.

[They gather round in some sort of huddle and sing a soft drink jingle or something like that. Blackout.]

Scene 7 ? ìThe Rick and Bob Reportî

The set of a morning talk show on the local TV station. A man and a woman sit in silhouette and wait for the interminably long theme song to end. It is finally faded out.

RICK: Welcome to The Rick and Bob Report. Iím Rickó

NOT BOB: And Iím Not Bob. Today weíll be exploring the intricacies of fly-fishing
with Earl Langtry and weíll be talking about the weather with Meteorologist Fanny Alexander. And join us later as we discuss primitive life with noted paleontologist B.K. Smoot. Rick, whoís your daddy now?

RICK: I have no idea what youíre talking about. But I do know that weíre all looking
forward to the bi-weekly Civil War reenactment and weíll be talking about that with Civil War buff Ambrose Muckley. Whoís got the power now? I do, I do.

NOT BOB: Thanks Rick. Thatís great. All that and more on The Rick and Bob Report.

[The Stage manager enters and whispers something.]

NOT BOB: Are you sure?

STAGE MANAGER: Yes, Iím sure.

NOT BOB: Well, thatís all the time we have for The Rick and Bob Report.
Thank you for joining us. Iím Not Bob.

RICK: And Iím Rick.

[The theme song plays for another interminable period of time while Rick and Not Bob sit in silhouette.]

STAGE MANAGER: Okay, thatís a wrap. Good show folks. See yíall tomorrow.

[Blackout.]

Scene 8 ? ìSerbie Goes Bananasî

An auto repair shop, rural style. Bob and Vern are crouched low poking a computer monitor with a stick.

B.K. SMOOT: Hello, Iím noted paleontologist B.K. Smoot. Iím single and looking
for the right man or woman or whatever, to share my life with. If youíre like me and youíre intelligent and career minded you might be wondering where you can meet the right person for you. Someone who is a match for your brilliant mind and sparkling personality. Someone who can fire up your hot, hot lips and shake you all night long. Well, frankly, I donít have an answer for you. Iím available and frankly Iím hot stuff. Iím a box of Godiva chocolates waiting to be unwrapped and sampled. But Iím alone. Why? Because the world is full of cretins and low-life scum. Most men are bottom feeders and the oneís that arenít ? well, letís just say you wonít find them by hanging out at Stuckeyís or IHOP all night.

STAGE MANAGER: Can we cut some of this personal stuff?

B.K. SMOOT: Oh, sure. Letís cut the personal stuff. Iím laying my feelings out on the
line and we have to cut that so I can talk about paleontology. Because my career comes first. Hah! Isn't that ironic? A bunch of dead bones and theories we pull out of our asses are more important than having a healthy private life. I mean, really! Iím important. Iím alive. I need warmth, dammit!
I want some ACTION!

STAGE MANAGER: Umm, weíre still on air here.

B.K. SMOOT: Right. Technology has long been the bane of human culture.
Whether it was arrowheads designed for planned obsolescence or fire that just couldnít be controlled, primitive man found technological developments to be unsettling and not worth all the trouble. Hence the primitive fear of technology.

[Lights change. BK Smoot exits.]

B.K. SMOOT: I need a drink.

BOB: I reckon it wonít do no harm so long as we keep it a safe distance away.

[Vern grunts his approval. Tom enters and observes the scene.]

TOM: Whatchya doiní?

BOB: Taking care of our Y2K problem.

TOM: Anything interesting in the shop?
[Bob brings forth a box full of various parts.]

TOM: Whatís this?

BOB: You know Fecus MacGeeís 84 Yugo, Serbie?

TOM: Yeah.

BOB: Well, Serbie went bananas and started ethnically cleansing all the cars in the
parking lot by the Piggly Wiggly. Cleaned out all the Hondas and Toyotas and purt near all the SUVs.

TOM: Thatís a tough car.

BOB: Finally just fell into pieces.

TOM: Is this it?

BOB: Yeah, weíve got to put it back together.

TOM: Can you do that?

BOB: Donít know ëtil we try.

TOM: Poor Fecus.

BOB: He hasnít had a bit of luck since that raccoon bit him on the ass.

TOM: Pesky critters.

BOB: He shouldíve known better. Itís like my Pappy used to say,
you put your ass in front of raccoons, youíre gonna get bit.

TOM: What are the cans for?

BOB: Vernís collecting cans for various separatist insurgencies around the world.

TOM: These are oilcans.

VERN: Youknowthattheremotoroilismotoroilandallthatstuffyouknow.

TOM: Theyíre empty.

BOB: Thereís no sense sending perfectly good motor oil to people who donít even
have cars.

TOM: What do they do with the cans?

BOB: Refugees like cans.

TOM: I suppose youíre right. Are you coming to the Civil War reenactment?

BOB: I sure am. Donít know about Vern, though.
He gets fidgety around guns, you know.

TOM: Yankee or Rebel?

BOB: I think Iím gonna try Yankees for once. Might be nice to win one.

TOM: Whatever, Bob. See ya, Vern.

[Vern grunts. Tom exits.]

BOB: Give it a good kick, Vern. See if that does the trick.

[Vern kicks the monitor. Blackout.]

Scene 9 ? ìThe Doctor Is Still Inî

The office of Doctor Lykes. The Doctor is still trying to provoke the patient.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

[Pause. Regroup. Counterattack.]

DOCTOR LYKES: Goose.

[Pause.]

PATIENT: Egg.

DOCTOR LYKES: Egg.

PATIENT: Crate.

DOCTOR LYKES: Crate.

PATIENT: Barrel.

DOCTOR LYKES: Barrel.

PATIENT: Fever.

DOCTOR LYKES: Fever.

PATIENT: Fe-ver!

DOCTOR LYKES: In the morning?

PATIENT: All through the night.

[Breakthrough.]

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

[Blackout.]

Scene 10 ? ìThe Siege of Vicksburgî

Tom enters holding a coffee-stained letter.

TOM: I just got a letter from my nephew. Heís doing a Civil War reenactment
down in Vicksburg. [He reads. Music starts. Really sad music.]

Dear Uncle Tom,
I received your letter posted last month and it brought me much cheer. Six months now we have been here in Vicksburg, the last four of which we have been completely surrounded. The Yankees have cut off all our supplies and I finished the last of the trout jerky you sent me long ago. Captain Forster ate some sort of cricket last night and it did give him a bad case of the runs. We heard his shrieks all through the night and some of the younger soldiers were so frightened they soiled themselves. Sergeant was mad at us something fierce but we was excused from drill in the morning while we did the laundry and that was good. There are rumors that some of the civilians have taken to eating squirrels and I shore admit that squirrel sounds good to me right now. Sometimes I think what it would be like if I could just walk past the Federal lines and go home. But duty comes first, even though hungerís coming a close second. Most everybody here has dropped at least twenty pounds. They say even the ladies of questionable morals in town are all thin and wasted away. Still, Iíll admit I could use some loving something fierce, but the war reenactment comes first here. I donít know how much longer this siege will take, but we will defend the honor of the South for as long as it takes.
Sincerely,
Your nephew, Wilbur

P.S. Please send some cookies.

[Music ends.]

PEORIA: Kind of gets you right hereÖand just keeps on getting you there,
over and over again.

TOM: They sure take their reenacting seriously. It is touching, isnít it?

PEORIA: It sure is.

TOM: Make you proud.

PEORIA: Oh, yes. Very proud.

TOM: Makes you want to go out there and join them.

PEORIA: I wouldnít go that far.

TOM: But it is touching.
PEORIA: Very touching. Really touching. A lot ofÖtouch.

TOM: Peoria, I think I love you.

PEORIA: Letís go do some reenacting.

[They exit. Larry and Spoon enter with potatoes.]

SPOON: I never knew you could do so much with a potato.

LARRY: The potato is very versatile.

SPOON: That thing with the masher was great.

LARRY: Twice baked, babycakes, twice baked.

SPOON: Maybe we can make some potato pancakes later.

LARRY: Oh, I only have eyes for you. Get it? The potatoesÖhave eyesÖandÖ

SPOON: I got it, it just wasnít funny.

[JJJ enters.]

JJJ: Hey Spoon, I brought you some pie.

SPOON: JJJ, thatís so sweet.

LARRY: Hey, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, your girlfriend is my girlfriend too.

JJJ: What?!

SPOON: About thatÖ

JJJ: Iím gonna kill you, potato man.

LARRY: That would be a mistake. Do you know how many ways a potato can be
used in self-defense?

JJJ: You can tell me all about it while I beat the crap out of you.

LARRY: Couldnít we settle this in some sort of civilized manner?

JJJ: You could shove that potato up your own nose.

LARRY: Guess not.

[Larry makes a break for it. JJJ gives chase. Spoon is left alone. She breaks open her pie and spoons out some filling. Elkhorn Tavern watches her and then joins her.]

ELKHORN TAVERN: I couldnít help but notice you with that pie.

SPOON: Do you like pie?

ELKHORN TAVERN: I used to. I havenít had any for a long, long time.

SPOON: What happened?

ELKHORN TAVERN: Itís too painful to talk about.

SPOON: Thatís tragic.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Do you mind if I just watch you have your pie?

SPOON: Okay.

[She has some of her pie.]

SPOON: I feel so self-conscious. Listen, why donít you have some of this.

ELKHORN TAVERN: You donít understand. Iím too afraid.

SPOON: Donít be scared. Here.

ELKHORN TAVERN: I canít do it, I canít do it, Ió

[She gives him a spoonful of the filling.]

SPOON: There you go.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Hey, that was good.

SPOON: Here, have some more. There you go.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Ohhh. Mmmmm. Awwwwmmmm.

SPOON: Itís not so scary now, is it?

ELKHORN TAVERN: No.

SPOON: Come on, we can share the rest of it.

ELKHORN TAVERN: You must be an angel.

SPOON: No, Iím just a girl.

ELKHORN TAVERN: You are so much more than that. You took away my fear.
It would have taken years of therapy to pull that off.

SPOON: I do what I can.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Listen, I know a great place where you can sit and have some
pie and watch the world go by. Do you want to come? I used to get pie there,
a long time ago. Iíd like to go there again now that I can.

SPOON: That sounds great.

[They exit. Larry runs through, chased by JJJ. Blackout.]

Scene 11 ? ìThe Wyrd Sistersî

Lights up on Hildegard, Frieda and Alice. They are gathered around a big kettle.
They are doing some sort of laundry in small pieces while some music (perhaps Tracy Chapmanís ìGive Me One Reasonî). They pass something from the kettle to a martini shaker. They dance around doing assorted laundry until the song ends.
Blackout.

Scene 12 ? ìThe Part With The Elkî

Tom, Peoria, JJJ, Bob and Vern enter crouching. Tom has some automatic weaponry.

TOM: This is the part with the elk. We were gonna try to get some sort of famous elk
for this part, but there arenít any famous elks, so we figured weíd just gun one down for yíall.

PEORIA: Do you see anything?

BOB: Nothing. Wait. Iím seeing some sort of movement. No, it was just a Moose.

JJJ: I just donít understand what Spoon would see in that potato guy.

TOM: Well, you have to understand that people are essentially a mystery to each other.
As soon as you think you can predict things, well, they turn right around and surprise you.

PEORIA: Exactly.

BOB: And thereís nothing you can do about it.

PEORIA: I wouldnít go that far.

JJJ: Iím afraid of losing her.

BOB: You know what Iím afraid of? Testicular cancer. Iím sure that one of these days
Iím gonna reach down there to move something around and feel something that doesnít belong.

VERN: YougottawatchoutforthattheredangoldtesticlecancerknowwhatImean?

TOM: Son, you canít win her back by killing Larry.

JJJ: What can I do?

PEORIA: Woo her.

JJJ: What?

PEORIA: Woo!

BOB: Who?

PEORIA: Woo!

BOB: Oh, woo. Right.

TOM: I think I see something. Alright, let ëer rip.

[They fire.]

PEORIA: Was it an elk?

TOM: No, I think it was a Rotarian.

BOB: Shit. Not another one. Get the shovel, Vern.

[Larry runs through.]

LARRY: Listen, thereís no reason for you to kill me.

JJJ: I know.

LARRY: Really? Thatís a relief.

JJJ: Iím still gonna pummel you.

LARRY: Why?

JJJ: Just for kicks.

[Larry runs. JJJ chases.]

LARRY: You can mash the potato, but you canít destroy it!

PEORIA: Do you see anything?

BOB: Nothing.

TOM: It would be a shame if we didnít get an elk for this bit.

[Larry enters short of breath.]

TOM: I donít suppose you saw a couple of wounded Rotarians down there?

LARRY: Just oneÖand a Freemason.

[Larry exits. JJJ runs through hot on the trail.]

TOM: Looks like there wonít be any elk here today.

BOB: We have only ourselves to blame.

TOM: We should get out of here before they come looking for the Rotarian and
the Mason.

BOB: Youíre right.

PEORIA: Stop!

TOM: What?

PEORIA: Stop! Hammer time!

[The appropriate (depending on your point of view) music plays. Blackout.]

Scene 13 ? ìSoundtrack to Henryî

Lights up on the apartment of Henry. Music plays, perhaps Pachelbelís Canon. Henry enters. The following subtitles may be spoken or written for the audience, while Henry performs the actions.

THIS IS HENRY

THIS IS HENRYíS APARTMENT

HENRY IS COMING HOME WITH GROCERIES

YOUíD THINK THIS WAS A ROUTINE EVENT

BUT HENRY HAS NO LUCK WITH HAND-EYE COORDINATION

THIS IS HENRYíS GIRLFRIEND, LISA

LISA WANTS TO HELP HENRY, BUT SHE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY LEX LUTHOR WHO HAS PLACED HER BEHIND THIS INVISIBLE FORCE FIELD

THATíS A PRETTY CONVINCING FORCE FIELD, ISNíT IT?

HENRY HAS GOTTEN A SPOT ON HIS TIE

THAT TIE DOESNíT REALLY GO WITH THAT SHIRT

OH, HENRY!

[Henry lies crumpled on the floor by the end, surrounded by various fruits and vegetables and overturned chairs. Blackout.]

Scene 14 ? ìClash of the Mechanicsî

Bobís Garage. B.K. Smoot enters.

B.K. SMOOT: Hello. Iím noted paleontologist B.K. Smoot. Few people know that primitive human communities were very similar to contemporary lemur civilization. Lemurs and primitive humans shared common traits such as the ability to tell time using the sun and even today lemurs use the stars to navigate at night. Lemurs are fond of eating and touching each other and sometimes themselves when they think that no one is watching. Early human societies benefited from cultural exchanges with ancient packs of lemurs. It is even thought that lemurs first discovered fire. Lemurs are also among the sexiest of the smaller mammals. This is due in part to the word ìlemurî which rolls off the tongue in a particularly erotic fashion. In fact itís fun to say. Try it. Lemur. Lemur. Lemur.
Come on, now. Try it. Lemur. Lemur. See what I mean? Lemur.
Lemurs, like primitive humans tend to be territorial. It is not unheard of for several lemurs to go looking for trouble in another lemurís home range. Primitive humans, too, would often pick fights with lemurs, with varying degrees of success. Why they did this remains a mystery, but no doubt it had to do with some sort of repressed primitive sexuality. Further research in primitive sexuality may yield some fascinating information on the private lives of the lemurs. Lemurs. Lemurs. It really does grow on you, doesnít it? Lemur.

[Smoot exits provocatively. Bob and Vern enter with the remains of Serbie and a pair of giant lollipops.]

BOB: Sure was nice of Fecus to give us these giant styrofoam suckers.
Donít know what weíll do with them.

[Vern hits Bob on the head.]

BOB: I suppose we could just sit here all day and wack each other in the head with these
all day.

[Vern hits him in the head again.]

BOB: Throw in some beer and we could do this all week.

[Vern hits him again.]

BOB: Cut that out.

[The Ride of the Valkyrie. Hildegard, Frieda and Alice enter separately amid much fanfare. They are armed with sword-like and shield-like objects.]

BOB: What the hell?
[Vern hits him in the back of the head.]

HILDEGARD: I am Hildegard of Jacksonville.

FRIEDA: I am Frieda of Gainesville.

ALICE: And Iím AliceÖfrom Decatur.

BOB: No shit? Now that we know where youíre from, why donít you go back there?

HILDEGARD: We have come to fight you for supremacy.

BOB: Supremacy? I think youíve got the wrong town for that.

HILDEGARD: Send us your champions so we can crush them.

BOB: Champions? Now I know youíve got the wrong town.

FRIEDA: What are you? Chicken?

ALICE: Fried chicken? Rotisserie chicken? Shake and Bake?

BOB: I may be a lot of things, and some of those things ainít clean or pretty and some
of those involve a brisket a stick and some motor oil, but Iím not a chicken.

HILDEGARD: Silence, minion of patriarchy.

BOB: Whatís a minion?

FRIEDA: It means a lackey.

ALICE: A lackey with initiative.

FRIEDA: Sort of an independent lackey with a loose affiliation with a greater
evil presence.

ALICE: Does it have to be necessarily evil?

FRIEDA: Iíve never really heard of a good minion or a lackey of justice.

BOB: What about Robin?

HILDEGARD: Robin was a sidekick.

ALICE: Are you saying that sidekicks are basically lackeys on the side of the
good guys?

HILDEGARD: What good guys? Theyíre all agents of the patriarchy,
reinforcing stereotypes.

BOB: What about Wonder woman?

ALICE: Good point.

FRIEDA: Oh, right. An Amazon from an island inhabited solely by attractive women.
Yet another male fantasy.

BOB: Oh, you got that right.

HILDEGARD: Enough words. Itís time for action. Who are your champions?

BOB: Iím BobÖof Bobís Garage and this is VernÖof Bobís Garage.
You with me, Vern?

VERN [clearly]: I reckon itís time to start killing again.

BOB: I suppose we need a third to keep things even.

HILDEGARD: Youíll need more than that.

BOB: Anybody want to sign up for an ass-kicking?

[From the audience a lone man stands up.]

LOTHAR: I vill.

BOB: You vill?

FRIEDA: He vill.

HILDEGARD: Who are you?

LOTHAR: I am Lothar of Stuttgart.

BOB: Lothar of Stuttgart?

LOTHAR: Ja!

BOB: Are you a mechanic?

LOTHAR: My grandfather was the Red Baronís personal mechanic?

BOB: You mean the microwave pizza guy?
LOTHAR: No. The one who shot down all the planes mit his Fokker.

BOB: Whoa! Thereís no need to swear. Alright, youíre on our side.
Weíre shirts, so I guess yíall can be skins.

HILDEGARD: Alright, thatís it! Youíre going down!

FRIEDA: Itís a rumble.

ALICE: Wait! We need mood musicÖyou know, to set the tone.

BOB: How about this?

[Itís the Beach Boys.]

FRIEDA: You canít fight to that.

BOB: Aw, come on. Iím pickiní up good vibrationsÖalright, how about this?

[More from the Beach Boys oeuvre.]

HILDEGARD: No Beach Boys. Weíll go with this.

[Indigo Girls, or something like that.]

BOB: Unfair advantage!

HILDEGARD: Unfair advantage?!

FRIEDA: This is a classic.

[Wagner.]

LOTHAR: I like it.

BOB: Shut up, Lothar. This is what itís gonna be.

[It is something completely ridiculous.]

HILDEGARD: Oh, oh, oh, I donít think so.

ALICE: Well, we canít have a rumble without music.

FRIEDA: Stop! [Pause.] Hammer time!

HILDEGARD: Donít embarrass us, Frieda!

BOB: Alright, letís figure out something.

[They huddle up. There are whispers and the occasional shove.]

HILDEGARD: Alright, here we go!

[Music starts. The selection is so hideously inappropriate that words alone cannot describe it. A clash of titanic proportions ensues until the end of the song.]

HILDEGARD: Stop!

FRIEDA: Hammer time!

[Blackout.]

Scene 15 ? Rick and Bob II: Electric Bugaloo

The Theme from the Rick and Bob Report plays for an inordinately long amount of time.
Rick and Not Bob sit in the shadows. Lights up.

NOT BOB: Thatís all the time we have for The Rick and Bob Report.
Thanks for joining us.

[The theme plays again while they strike the set. Blackout.]

Scene 16 ? ìElkhorn Tavernî

Larry enters regally carrying a potato.

LARRY: This vegetable of kings, this sceptíred root,
This blessed spud, this tater, this tuber, this potato!

[Spoon and Elkhorn enter.]

SPOON: Larry.

LARRY: Spoon.

SPOON: Iím sorry about how things turned out. No hard feelings?

LARRY: My heart is a mashed potato.

SPOON: With gravy?

LARRY: I havenít thought to check. Want some potatoes?

SPOON: No, thanks Larry. We have pie.

LARRY: They know you not, old man.

[Larry starts to leave.]

SPOON: Where will you go?

LARRY: My own private Idaho.

[Larry exits with as much dignity as he can muster.]

SPOON: You know, the potato is so omnipresent that itís often taken for granted.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Talk to me about pie.

SPOON: How about sweet potato pie?

ELKHORN TAVERN: No, Dolly Madison doesnít make that.
Talk to me about apple or cherry, or even peach.

SPOON: Why are men so one-dimensional?

ELKHORN TAVERN: All men are one-dimensional.
Fruit pies have seven dimensions. Let me count their ways.

SPOON: Oh, you men just want one thing.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Pie, glorious pie.

SPOON: Sometimes itís pie, sometimes itís potatoes,
but you just donít know how to be a whole person.

[JJJ enters with a boom box for his ìSay Anythingî moment.]

SPOON: JJJ!

ELKHORN TAVERN: John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt?
Hey, your name is my name too.

JJJ: Spoon, Iíd like to say something to you.
I mean, Iíd like to ask you something if I could.

SPOON: Go ahead.

JJJ: Well, itís tough to put into words soÖhere goes nothing.

[JJJ puts on the music and proceeds to woo Spoon with a dance to some sort of old sweet song. It works.]

JJJ: Spoon, Iíd like you to be Mrs. John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. If you want to.
If you see fit.

SPOON: John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, your name is my name too.

[They embrace and run off wildly. Elkhorn Tavern is left sitting alone with pie for two. He starts talking with the pies.]

ELKHORN TAVERN: Hello, Mr. Blueberry, whatís going on?
Mr. Blueberryís on my shoulder. Itís the truth, itís actual.
Oh, youíre so clever Mr. Apple. Have you seen Miss Lemon?
Oh, no, not in ages. Well, thatís a shame. Sheís so yummy.

[Towards the end of this Dolly Madison enters and looks over Elkhornís shoulder benignly. She walks up behind him and touches the back of his head. He falls asleep with a smile. Blackout.]

Scene 17 ? ìDoctor Who?î

The office of Doctor Lykes.

DOCTOR LYKES: Doctor.

PATIENT: Who.

DOCTOR LYKES: Doctor.

PATIENT: Who.

DOCTOR LYKES: Doctor.

PATIENT: Who.

DOCTOR LYKES: Duck.

PATIENT: Duck.

DOCTOR LYKES: Duck.

PATIENT: Duck.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Dry.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Dry.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Penis.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Penis.

DOCTOR LYKES: Saskatchewan.

PATIENT: Cock.

DOCTOR LYKES: Alberta.

PATIENT: Dick.

DOCTOR LYKES: Manitoba.

PATIENT: Wang.

DOCTOR LYKES: Edmonton.

PATIENT: Prick.

DOCTOR LYKES: Winnipeg.

PATIENT: Prong.

DOCTOR LYKES: Regina?

[Blackout.]

Scene 18 ? ìSoundtrack to Henry II: Flowers and Candyî

Henry in a hallway. He is holding flowers and candy. Music is something operatic, perhaps from Cavalleria Rusticana.

THIS IS HENRY

THIS IS HENRYíS GIRLFRIEND, LISA

HENRY IS BRINGING HER FLOWERS AND CANDY

HENRY FORGOT TO TAKE THE THORNS OFF THE ROSES

HENRY IS IN PAIN

LISA IS ALLERGIC TO COCONUTS

1/3 OF THE CHOCOLATES IN HENRYíS BOX HAVE COCONUT OF SOME FORM IN THEM

HENRY HAS A 33 1/3 % CHANCE OF SERIOUSLY INJURING LISA

YOUNG LOVE IS THE BEST LOVE

[Henry and Lisa, after many struggles are left leaning back to back on the ground. Blackout.]

Scene 19 ? ìThe Civil Warî

STAGE MANAGER: Alright folks, time for the Civil War reenactment.

[The cast ambles on stage in blue and gray sweats. They take up positions opposed to each other. Music starts.]

B.K. SMOOT: By the autumn of 1864 the Union armies had all but strangled the Confederacy. Having sidestepped the Southerners through Northern Virginia, Grant thought he had them licked for good, but he was in for a surprise. Leeís Army fought stubbornly for every inch of territory and so the two opposing forces finally came to settle in for a siege at Petersburg. The Federals tried everything from frontal assaults to operations led by gophers trained to dig underneath the Confederate lines and bite their soldiers in the ass.
However, it became increasingly clear that the only means to victory was to sit tight through the winter and see which side would drink itself to death first.

[There is a long, long pause, maybe with some sort of drum roll. There is another long, long pause.]

PEORIA: Maybe it wasnít such a bright idea to reenact a siege.

TOM: You can say that again.

PEORIA: We should do a pirate scene next time.

TOM: Civil War pirates?

JJJ: We could have blockade runners.

BOB: I wonder why they donít charge?

HILDEGARD: Why donít we just charge them?

ALICE: Weíd face certain death.

FRIEDA: Itís just a reenactment.

HILDEGARD: Still, nobody wants to spend a reenactment face down in the ground.

ALICE: Good point.

LARRY: Alright, thatís it, Iím going over the top.
FOR THE UNION AND THE POTATO! CHARGE!

SPOON: Noooooooo!

TOM: Damn foolís coming straight for us!

BOB: Heís brave, Iíll give him that. Letís go!

HILDEGARD: For the matriarchy!

ELKHORN TAVERN: Charge!

[JJJ steps up with a large Boston Cream Pie. The rest of the action is in slow-motion with the appropriate music for a slow motion Civil War reenactment scene. Spoon attempts to stop the action of JJJ with the pie, but to no avail. JJJ lets the pie loose in a slow motion throw. Through some magical stage device/convention we see the pie travel slowly across the stage and hit Larry square in the face. The music reaches a climax and then we are left with the tableaux as the cast runs to the stricken Larry.]

SPOON: Larry, say something!

LARRY: One potato, two potato, three potato, four.
Five potato, six potato, seven potatoÖ eight.

[Larry reenacts a Civil War-style death. The rest bow their heads as the music fades out.]

TOM: Say something that makes sense.

[Blackout.]

Scene 20 ? ìThe Madison Doctrineî

Lights up. Scene as before. The aftermath of reenacting. Elkhorn Tavern sits mock shell-shocked with his head in his hands.

B.K. SMOOT: Hello, Iím noted paleontologist B.K. Smoot.
You might be asking yourself, whatís an attractive noted paleontologist doing in a one-pygmy horse town like this. I ask myself that question all the time.
All the time.

[Smoot exits.]

ALICE: I wonder if we struck a blow against the patriarchy here today.

FRIEDA: I wonder who wrote the book of love.

BOB: You girls want to get some beer and sausage?

HILDEGARD: This isnít Guys and Dolls.

BOB: Is that a no?

[Hildegard, and Frieda exit.]

BOB: Come on, Vern. We have a Yugo to put back together.

[Vern and Bob exit.]

ALICE: Lothar, do you like apple strudel and long drives.

LOTHAR: Ja.

ALICE: What kind of car do you have?

LOTHAR: A German car. Itís aó

ALICE: Stop! You had me at German. [Pause.] Hammer time!

[Alice and Lothar boogie their way offstage.]

SPOON: Have you ever thought of changing your name?

JJJ: Iíve always like J. Edgar Jingleheimer Schmidt.

SPOON: Oh. Never mind. I donít suppose you know what the atomic weight of love is?

JJJ: I donít knowÖbut Iíd like to find out.

[Spoon and JJJ exit.]

LARRY: Anybody want a potato?

TOM: No.

LARRY: Oh, you say that now, but youíll change your mind later.
You can do without a lot of things,
but you need the potato more than it needs you.
Good day, Tom.

[Larry exits.]

TOM: He may just be right.

PEORIA: If war is hell, then what are reenactments?

TOM: Not authentic.

[Tom and Peoria exit. Itís just Elkhorn Tavern and some pie. Dolly Madison enters and touches the back of his head. He becomes conscious.]

DOLLY MADISON: Do you want some pie?

ELKHORN TAVERN: I think Iíve had enough of pie for today.

DOLLY MADISON: Are you sure? I think thereís no such thing as too much pie.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Are youó ?

DOLLY MADISON: I am.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Youíre the Dolly Madison? The one who makes the tasty pies?

DOLLY MADISON: I am.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Am I dreaming?

DOLLY MADISON: If thatís how you want to think of it.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Iím in love with you.

DOLLY MADISON: I know. Itís flattering.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Shouldnít you be over two hundred years old?

DOLLY MADISON: Sure. People age, but good pie goes on forever.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Then I am dreaming.

[She holds him close.]

DOLLY MADISON: Why donít we just talk about pie while we watch the stars
come out?

ELKHORN TAVERN: Okay. I think my favorite is blueberry, except for peach,
when itís in seasonÖ

[End music. Slow fade to black.]
Scene 8 ? ìSerbie Goes Bananasî

An auto repair shop, rural style. Bob and Vern are crouched low poking a computer monitor with a stick.

STAGE MANAGER: Can we cut some of this personal stuff?

STAGE MANAGER: Umm, weíre still on air here.

[Lights change. BK Smoot exits.]

B.K. SMOOT: I need a drink.

BOB: I reckon it wonít do no harm so long as we keep it a safe distance away.

[Vern grunts his approval. Tom enters and observes the scene.]

TOM: Whatchya doiní?

BOB: Taking care of our Y2K problem.

TOM: Anything interesting in the shop?
[Bob brings forth a box full of various parts.]

TOM: Whatís this?

BOB: You know Fecus MacGeeís 84 Yugo, Serbie?

TOM: Yeah.

BOB: Well, Serbie went bananas and started ethnically cleansing all the cars in the
parking lot by the Piggly Wiggly. Cleaned out all the Hondas and Toyotas and purt near all the SUVs.

TOM: Thatís a tough car.

BOB: Finally just fell into pieces.

TOM: Is this it?

BOB: Yeah, weíve got to put it back together.

TOM: Can you do that?

BOB: Donít know ëtil we try.

TOM: Poor Fecus.

BOB: He hasnít had a bit of luck since that raccoon bit him on the ass.

TOM: Pesky critters.

BOB: He shouldíve known better. Itís like my Pappy used to say,
you put your ass in front of raccoons, youíre gonna get bit.

TOM: What are the cans for?

BOB: Vernís collecting cans for various separatist insurgencies around the world.

TOM: These are oilcans.

VERN: Youknowthattheremotoroilismotoroilandallthatstuffyouknow.

TOM: Theyíre empty.

BOB: Thereís no sense sending perfectly good motor oil to people who donít even
have cars.

TOM: What do they do with the cans?

BOB: Refugees like cans.

TOM: I suppose youíre right. Are you coming to the Civil War reenactment?

BOB: I sure am. Donít know about Vern, though.
He gets fidgety around guns, you know.

TOM: Yankee or Rebel?

BOB: I think Iím gonna try Yankees for once. Might be nice to win one.

TOM: Whatever, Bob. See ya, Vern.

[Vern grunts. Tom exits.]

BOB: Give it a good kick, Vern. See if that does the trick.

[Vern kicks the monitor. Blackout.]

Scene 9 ? ìThe Doctor Is Still Inî

The office of Doctor Lykes. The Doctor is still trying to provoke the patient.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

[Pause. Regroup. Counterattack.]

DOCTOR LYKES: Goose.

[Pause.]

PATIENT: Egg.

DOCTOR LYKES: Egg.

PATIENT: Crate.

DOCTOR LYKES: Crate.

PATIENT: Barrel.

DOCTOR LYKES: Barrel.

PATIENT: Fever.

DOCTOR LYKES: Fever.

PATIENT: Fe-ver!

DOCTOR LYKES: In the morning?

PATIENT: All through the night.

[Breakthrough.]

DOCTOR LYKES: Mother.

PATIENT: Goose.

[Blackout.]

Scene 10 ? ìThe Siege of Vicksburgî

Tom enters holding a coffee-stained letter.

TOM: I just got a letter from my nephew. Heís doing a Civil War reenactment
down in Vicksburg. [He reads. Music starts. Really sad music.]

P.S. Please send some cookies.

[Music ends.]

PEORIA: Kind of gets you right hereÖand just keeps on getting you there,
over and over again.

TOM: They sure take their reenacting seriously. It is touching, isnít it?

PEORIA: It sure is.

TOM: Make you proud.

PEORIA: Oh, yes. Very proud.

TOM: Makes you want to go out there and join them.

PEORIA: I wouldnít go that far.

TOM: But it is touching.
PEORIA: Very touching. Really touching. A lot ofÖtouch.

TOM: Peoria, I think I love you.

PEORIA: Letís go do some reenacting.

[They exit. Larry and Spoon enter with potatoes.]

SPOON: I never knew you could do so much with a potato.

LARRY: The potato is very versatile.

SPOON: That thing with the masher was great.

LARRY: Twice baked, babycakes, twice baked.

SPOON: Maybe we can make some potato pancakes later.

LARRY: Oh, I only have eyes for you. Get it? The potatoesÖhave eyesÖandÖ

SPOON: I got it, it just wasnít funny.

[JJJ enters.]

JJJ: Hey Spoon, I brought you some pie.

SPOON: JJJ, thatís so sweet.

LARRY: Hey, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, your girlfriend is my girlfriend too.

JJJ: What?!

SPOON: About thatÖ

JJJ: Iím gonna kill you, potato man.

LARRY: That would be a mistake. Do you know how many ways a potato can be
used in self-defense?

JJJ: You can tell me all about it while I beat the crap out of you.

LARRY: Couldnít we settle this in some sort of civilized manner?

JJJ: You could shove that potato up your own nose.

LARRY: Guess not.

[Larry makes a break for it. JJJ gives chase. Spoon is left alone. She breaks open her pie and spoons out some filling. Elkhorn Tavern watches her and then joins her.]

ELKHORN TAVERN: I couldnít help but notice you with that pie.

SPOON: Do you like pie?

ELKHORN TAVERN: I used to. I havenít had any for a long, long time.

SPOON: What happened?

ELKHORN TAVERN: Itís too painful to talk about.

SPOON: Thatís tragic.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Do you mind if I just watch you have your pie?

SPOON: Okay.

[She has some of her pie.]

SPOON: I feel so self-conscious. Listen, why donít you have some of this.

ELKHORN TAVERN: You donít understand. Iím too afraid.

SPOON: Donít be scared. Here.

ELKHORN TAVERN: I canít do it, I canít do it, Ió

[She gives him a spoonful of the filling.]

SPOON: There you go.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Hey, that was good.

SPOON: Here, have some more. There you go.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Ohhh. Mmmmm. Awwwwmmmm.

SPOON: Itís not so scary now, is it?

ELKHORN TAVERN: No.

SPOON: Come on, we can share the rest of it.

ELKHORN TAVERN: You must be an angel.

SPOON: No, Iím just a girl.

ELKHORN TAVERN: You are so much more than that. You took away my fear.
It would have taken years of therapy to pull that off.

SPOON: I do what I can.

SPOON: That sounds great.

[They exit. Larry runs through, chased by JJJ. Blackout.]

Scene 11 ? ìThe Wyrd Sistersî

Scene 12 ? ìThe Part With The Elkî

Tom, Peoria, JJJ, Bob and Vern enter crouching. Tom has some automatic weaponry.

TOM: This is the part with the elk. We were gonna try to get some sort of famous elk
for this part, but there arenít any famous elks, so we figured weíd just gun one down for yíall.

PEORIA: Do you see anything?

BOB: Nothing. Wait. Iím seeing some sort of movement. No, it was just a Moose.

JJJ: I just donít understand what Spoon would see in that potato guy.

TOM: Well, you have to understand that people are essentially a mystery to each other.
As soon as you think you can predict things, well, they turn right around and surprise you.

PEORIA: Exactly.

BOB: And thereís nothing you can do about it.

PEORIA: I wouldnít go that far.

JJJ: Iím afraid of losing her.

BOB: You know what Iím afraid of? Testicular cancer. Iím sure that one of these days
Iím gonna reach down there to move something around and feel something that doesnít belong.

VERN: YougottawatchoutforthattheredangoldtesticlecancerknowwhatImean?

TOM: Son, you canít win her back by killing Larry.

JJJ: What can I do?

PEORIA: Woo her.

JJJ: What?

PEORIA: Woo!

BOB: Who?

PEORIA: Woo!

BOB: Oh, woo. Right.

TOM: I think I see something. Alright, let ëer rip.

[They fire.]

PEORIA: Was it an elk?

TOM: No, I think it was a Rotarian.

BOB: Shit. Not another one. Get the shovel, Vern.

[Larry runs through.]

LARRY: Listen, thereís no reason for you to kill me.

JJJ: I know.

LARRY: Really? Thatís a relief.

JJJ: Iím still gonna pummel you.

LARRY: Why?

JJJ: Just for kicks.

[Larry runs. JJJ chases.]

LARRY: You can mash the potato, but you canít destroy it!

PEORIA: Do you see anything?

BOB: Nothing.

TOM: It would be a shame if we didnít get an elk for this bit.

[Larry enters short of breath.]

TOM: I donít suppose you saw a couple of wounded Rotarians down there?

LARRY: Just oneÖand a Freemason.

[Larry exits. JJJ runs through hot on the trail.]

TOM: Looks like there wonít be any elk here today.

BOB: We have only ourselves to blame.

TOM: We should get out of here before they come looking for the Rotarian and
the Mason.

BOB: Youíre right.

PEORIA: Stop!

TOM: What?

PEORIA: Stop! Hammer time!

[The appropriate (depending on your point of view) music plays. Blackout.]

Scene 13 ? ìSoundtrack to Henryî

Lights up on the apartment of Henry. Music plays, perhaps Pachelbelís Canon. Henry enters. The following subtitles may be spoken or written for the audience, while Henry performs the actions.

THIS IS HENRY

THIS IS HENRYíS APARTMENT

HENRY IS COMING HOME WITH GROCERIES

YOUíD THINK THIS WAS A ROUTINE EVENT

BUT HENRY HAS NO LUCK WITH HAND-EYE COORDINATION

THIS IS HENRYíS GIRLFRIEND, LISA

LISA WANTS TO HELP HENRY, BUT SHE HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY LEX LUTHOR WHO HAS PLACED HER BEHIND THIS INVISIBLE FORCE FIELD

THATíS A PRETTY CONVINCING FORCE FIELD, ISNíT IT?

HENRY HAS GOTTEN A SPOT ON HIS TIE

THAT TIE DOESNíT REALLY GO WITH THAT SHIRT

OH, HENRY!

[Henry lies crumpled on the floor by the end, surrounded by various fruits and vegetables and overturned chairs. Blackout.]

Scene 14 ? ìClash of the Mechanicsî

Bobís Garage. B.K. Smoot enters.

[Smoot exits provocatively. Bob and Vern enter with the remains of Serbie and a pair of giant lollipops.]

BOB: Sure was nice of Fecus to give us these giant styrofoam suckers.
Donít know what weíll do with them.

[Vern hits Bob on the head.]

BOB: I suppose we could just sit here all day and wack each other in the head with these
all day.

[Vern hits him in the head again.]

BOB: Throw in some beer and we could do this all week.

[Vern hits him again.]

BOB: Cut that out.

[The Ride of the Valkyrie. Hildegard, Frieda and Alice enter separately amid much fanfare. They are armed with sword-like and shield-like objects.]

BOB: What the hell?
[Vern hits him in the back of the head.]

HILDEGARD: I am Hildegard of Jacksonville.

FRIEDA: I am Frieda of Gainesville.

ALICE: And Iím AliceÖfrom Decatur.

BOB: No shit? Now that we know where youíre from, why donít you go back there?

HILDEGARD: We have come to fight you for supremacy.

BOB: Supremacy? I think youíve got the wrong town for that.

HILDEGARD: Send us your champions so we can crush them.

BOB: Champions? Now I know youíve got the wrong town.

FRIEDA: What are you? Chicken?

ALICE: Fried chicken? Rotisserie chicken? Shake and Bake?

BOB: I may be a lot of things, and some of those things ainít clean or pretty and some
of those involve a brisket a stick and some motor oil, but Iím not a chicken.

HILDEGARD: Silence, minion of patriarchy.

BOB: Whatís a minion?

FRIEDA: It means a lackey.

ALICE: A lackey with initiative.

FRIEDA: Sort of an independent lackey with a loose affiliation with a greater
evil presence.

ALICE: Does it have to be necessarily evil?

FRIEDA: Iíve never really heard of a good minion or a lackey of justice.

BOB: What about Robin?

HILDEGARD: Robin was a sidekick.

ALICE: Are you saying that sidekicks are basically lackeys on the side of the
good guys?

HILDEGARD: What good guys? Theyíre all agents of the patriarchy,
reinforcing stereotypes.

BOB: What about Wonder woman?

ALICE: Good point.

FRIEDA: Oh, right. An Amazon from an island inhabited solely by attractive women.
Yet another male fantasy.

BOB: Oh, you got that right.

HILDEGARD: Enough words. Itís time for action. Who are your champions?

BOB: Iím BobÖof Bobís Garage and this is VernÖof Bobís Garage.
You with me, Vern?

VERN [clearly]: I reckon itís time to start killing again.

BOB: I suppose we need a third to keep things even.

HILDEGARD: Youíll need more than that.

BOB: Anybody want to sign up for an ass-kicking?

[From the audience a lone man stands up.]

LOTHAR: I vill.

BOB: You vill?

FRIEDA: He vill.

HILDEGARD: Who are you?

LOTHAR: I am Lothar of Stuttgart.

BOB: Lothar of Stuttgart?

LOTHAR: Ja!

BOB: Are you a mechanic?

LOTHAR: My grandfather was the Red Baronís personal mechanic?

BOB: You mean the microwave pizza guy?
LOTHAR: No. The one who shot down all the planes mit his Fokker.

BOB: Whoa! Thereís no need to swear. Alright, youíre on our side.
Weíre shirts, so I guess yíall can be skins.

HILDEGARD: Alright, thatís it! Youíre going down!

FRIEDA: Itís a rumble.

ALICE: Wait! We need mood musicÖyou know, to set the tone.

BOB: How about this?

[Itís the Beach Boys.]

FRIEDA: You canít fight to that.

BOB: Aw, come on. Iím pickiní up good vibrationsÖalright, how about this?

[More from the Beach Boys oeuvre.]

HILDEGARD: No Beach Boys. Weíll go with this.

[Indigo Girls, or something like that.]

BOB: Unfair advantage!

HILDEGARD: Unfair advantage?!

FRIEDA: This is a classic.

[Wagner.]

LOTHAR: I like it.

BOB: Shut up, Lothar. This is what itís gonna be.

[It is something completely ridiculous.]

HILDEGARD: Oh, oh, oh, I donít think so.

ALICE: Well, we canít have a rumble without music.

FRIEDA: Stop! [Pause.] Hammer time!

HILDEGARD: Donít embarrass us, Frieda!

BOB: Alright, letís figure out something.

[They huddle up. There are whispers and the occasional shove.]

HILDEGARD: Alright, here we go!

[Music starts. The selection is so hideously inappropriate that words alone cannot describe it. A clash of titanic proportions ensues until the end of the song.]

HILDEGARD: Stop!

FRIEDA: Hammer time!

[Blackout.]

Scene 15 ? Rick and Bob II: Electric Bugaloo

The Theme from the Rick and Bob Report plays for an inordinately long amount of time.
Rick and Not Bob sit in the shadows. Lights up.

NOT BOB: Thatís all the time we have for The Rick and Bob Report.
Thanks for joining us.

[The theme plays again while they strike the set. Blackout.]

Scene 16 ? ìElkhorn Tavernî

Larry enters regally carrying a potato.

LARRY: This vegetable of kings, this sceptíred root,
This blessed spud, this tater, this tuber, this potato!

[Spoon and Elkhorn enter.]

SPOON: Larry.

LARRY: Spoon.

SPOON: Iím sorry about how things turned out. No hard feelings?

LARRY: My heart is a mashed potato.

SPOON: With gravy?

LARRY: I havenít thought to check. Want some potatoes?

SPOON: No, thanks Larry. We have pie.

LARRY: They know you not, old man.

[Larry starts to leave.]

SPOON: Where will you go?

LARRY: My own private Idaho.

[Larry exits with as much dignity as he can muster.]

SPOON: You know, the potato is so omnipresent that itís often taken for granted.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Talk to me about pie.

SPOON: How about sweet potato pie?

ELKHORN TAVERN: No, Dolly Madison doesnít make that.
Talk to me about apple or cherry, or even peach.

SPOON: Why are men so one-dimensional?

ELKHORN TAVERN: All men are one-dimensional.
Fruit pies have seven dimensions. Let me count their ways.

SPOON: Oh, you men just want one thing.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Pie, glorious pie.

SPOON: Sometimes itís pie, sometimes itís potatoes,
but you just donít know how to be a whole person.

[JJJ enters with a boom box for his ìSay Anythingî moment.]

SPOON: JJJ!

ELKHORN TAVERN: John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt?
Hey, your name is my name too.

JJJ: Spoon, Iíd like to say something to you.
I mean, Iíd like to ask you something if I could.

SPOON: Go ahead.

JJJ: Well, itís tough to put into words soÖhere goes nothing.

[JJJ puts on the music and proceeds to woo Spoon with a dance to some sort of old sweet song. It works.]

JJJ: Spoon, Iíd like you to be Mrs. John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. If you want to.
If you see fit.

SPOON: John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, your name is my name too.

[They embrace and run off wildly. Elkhorn Tavern is left sitting alone with pie for two. He starts talking with the pies.]

[Towards the end of this Dolly Madison enters and looks over Elkhornís shoulder benignly. She walks up behind him and touches the back of his head. He falls asleep with a smile. Blackout.]

Scene 17 ? ìDoctor Who?î

The office of Doctor Lykes.

DOCTOR LYKES: Doctor.

PATIENT: Who.

DOCTOR LYKES: Doctor.

PATIENT: Who.

DOCTOR LYKES: Doctor.

PATIENT: Who.

DOCTOR LYKES: Duck.

PATIENT: Duck.

DOCTOR LYKES: Duck.

PATIENT: Duck.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Goose.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Dry.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Dry.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Penis.

DOCTOR LYKES: Canada.

PATIENT: Penis.

DOCTOR LYKES: Saskatchewan.

PATIENT: Cock.

DOCTOR LYKES: Alberta.

PATIENT: Dick.

DOCTOR LYKES: Manitoba.

PATIENT: Wang.

DOCTOR LYKES: Edmonton.

PATIENT: Prick.

DOCTOR LYKES: Winnipeg.

PATIENT: Prong.

DOCTOR LYKES: Regina?

[Blackout.]

Scene 18 ? ìSoundtrack to Henry II: Flowers and Candyî

Henry in a hallway. He is holding flowers and candy. Music is something operatic, perhaps from Cavalleria Rusticana.

THIS IS HENRY

THIS IS HENRYíS GIRLFRIEND, LISA

HENRY IS BRINGING HER FLOWERS AND CANDY

HENRY FORGOT TO TAKE THE THORNS OFF THE ROSES

HENRY IS IN PAIN

LISA IS ALLERGIC TO COCONUTS

1/3 OF THE CHOCOLATES IN HENRYíS BOX HAVE COCONUT OF SOME FORM IN THEM

HENRY HAS A 33 1/3 % CHANCE OF SERIOUSLY INJURING LISA

YOUNG LOVE IS THE BEST LOVE

[Henry and Lisa, after many struggles are left leaning back to back on the ground. Blackout.]

Scene 19 ? ìThe Civil Warî

STAGE MANAGER: Alright folks, time for the Civil War reenactment.

[The cast ambles on stage in blue and gray sweats. They take up positions opposed to each other. Music starts.]

[There is a long, long pause, maybe with some sort of drum roll. There is another long, long pause.]

PEORIA: Maybe it wasnít such a bright idea to reenact a siege.

TOM: You can say that again.

PEORIA: We should do a pirate scene next time.

TOM: Civil War pirates?

JJJ: We could have blockade runners.

BOB: I wonder why they donít charge?

HILDEGARD: Why donít we just charge them?

ALICE: Weíd face certain death.

FRIEDA: Itís just a reenactment.

HILDEGARD: Still, nobody wants to spend a reenactment face down in the ground.

ALICE: Good point.

LARRY: Alright, thatís it, Iím going over the top.
FOR THE UNION AND THE POTATO! CHARGE!

SPOON: Noooooooo!

TOM: Damn foolís coming straight for us!

BOB: Heís brave, Iíll give him that. Letís go!

HILDEGARD: For the matriarchy!

ELKHORN TAVERN: Charge!

SPOON: Larry, say something!

LARRY: One potato, two potato, three potato, four.
Five potato, six potato, seven potatoÖ eight.

[Larry reenacts a Civil War-style death. The rest bow their heads as the music fades out.]

TOM: Say something that makes sense.

[Blackout)

Scene 20 ìThe Madison Doctrineî

Lights up. Scene as before. The aftermath of reenacting. Elkhorn Tavern sits mock shell-shocked with his head in his hands.

[Smoot exits.]

ALICE: I wonder if we struck a blow against the patriarchy here today.

FRIEDA: I wonder who wrote the book of love.

BOB: You girls want to get some beer and sausage?

HILDEGARD: This isnít Guys and Dolls.

BOB: Is that a no?

[Hildegard, and Frieda exit.]

BOB: Come on, Vern. We have a Yugo to put back together.

[Vern and Bob exit.]

ALICE: Lothar, do you like apple strudel and long drives.

LOTHAR: Ja.

ALICE: What kind of car do you have?

LOTHAR: A German car. Itís aó

ALICE: Stop! You had me at German. [Pause.] Hammer time!

[Alice and Lothar boogie their way offstage.]

SPOON: Have you ever thought of changing your name?

JJJ: Iíve always like J. Edgar Jingleheimer Schmidt.

SPOON: Oh. Never mind. I donít suppose you know what the atomic weight of love is?

JJJ: I donít knowÖbut Iíd like to find out.

[Spoon and JJJ exit.]

LARRY: Anybody want a potato?

TOM: No.

LARRY: Oh, you say that now, but youíll change your mind later.
You can do without a lot of things,
but you need the potato more than it needs you.
Good day, Tom.

[Larry exits.]

TOM: He may just be right.

PEORIA: If war is hell, then what are reenactments?

TOM: Not authentic.

[Tom and Peoria exit. Itís just Elkhorn Tavern and some pie. Dolly Madison enters and touches the back of his head. He becomes conscious.]

DOLLY MADISON: Do you want some pie?

ELKHORN TAVERN: I think Iíve had enough of pie for today.

DOLLY MADISON: Are you sure? I think thereís no such thing as too much pie.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Are youó ?

DOLLY MADISON: I am.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Youíre the Dolly Madison? The one who makes the tasty pies?

DOLLY MADISON: I am.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Am I dreaming?

DOLLY MADISON: If thatís how you want to think of it.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Iím in love with you.

DOLLY MADISON: I know. Itís flattering.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Shouldnít you be over two hundred years old?

DOLLY MADISON: Sure. People age, but good pie goes on forever.

ELKHORN TAVERN: Then I am dreaming.

[She holds him close.]

DOLLY MADISON: Why donít we just talk about pie while we watch the stars
come out?

ELKHORN TAVERN: Okay. I think my favorite is blueberry, except for peach,
when itís in seasonÖ

[End music. Slow fade to black.]