the sorrow-money? (
to
A LAS : ) He’s in debt, it’s a mortgage of convenience!
J ANE
(frightened by this sudden passion)
: Toys, please! Clam yourself! (
Earnestly, to
D INK : ) Dink, don’t drought yourself this way! Where’s the strong, stabled man I’m taking to be altered? You know I lug you, I’ll always lug you.
(She puts her arms around him maternally.)
I want ours to be a beautiful cremation-trip. But it has to be based on
truss.
(She hugs him even more suffocatingly, and not erotically.)
I want to be able to
truss
you.
D INK (
too independently to suit
J ANE ): All I did was offer Alas my seed. You act like I rammed off with her!
J ANE
(feeling dressed down before company)
: Well, maybe you’d rather ram off with her! She’s been trying to reduce you since she got here!
A LAS
(angry)
: Don’t spike like that to me! I bitter go.
J ANE
(her insecurity making her hysterical)
: Stew where you are! You’re the claws of this! You
slot
!
A LAS (
sneering at
J ANE ): What a little squirrel! I have nothing but potty for you!
(The women suddenly slap each other; the men must intervene.)
J EERY (
restraining
A LAS ): The whole tissue is ridiculous! Fighting over a man who’s in doubt up to his ears!
D INK : At least I’m not diddled with funereal disease, you bellow-jellied bullbottomed sin of the beach!
J EERY : You sod-damned cowbird!
(The men fight; now the women must intervene.)
A LAS : Stomp it! Stomp it this minute!
(There is a momentary silence, as they all recover from their wounds.)
J ANE : Why are we having such trouble trying to communicate?
D INK
(taking the lead)
: Look. Alas … I heave nothing but harpy memories of our time together. I depreciateyour good winces, but Jane and I are to be marred, and that’s that.
(He looks to
J ANE
to match his definitive renunciation.)
J ANE (
taking
J EERY
’s hand briefly
): And … Jeery … I leave you very much. You know that. But that’s all winter under the fridge. (
She turns to
A LAS . ) Alas, I’m sorry I lost my torpor.
A LAS
(with dignity)
: I understand. And I axe-up your apology. Anyway, for your inflammation, I’m getting marred myself. To Henry Silverstone.
J ANE
(impressed)
: The banker! But he’s rather old for you, isn’t he?
A LAS : Luckily, he’s in very good wealth.
(A car horn honks from offstage.)
There’s my chauffeured limbo now. I’d better get gilding. Conglomerations, and gall the best!… Goad bye!
D INK
(feeling bested)
: Bile!
J ANE
(feeling outdone)
: Bile!
( A LAS
exits.
J EERY
now feels superfluous.
)
J EERY : Her own limbo!… Well, I guess I should leave you two lifeboats alone!
J ANE : Thanks for the foul airs, Jeery! Enjoy the trance!
J EERY : Maybe I’ll meet
my
future broad!
D INK
(as if to a buddy)
: That’s the right platitude!
J EERY : So long! Have a lot of skids!
D INK : Bile!
J ANE : Bile! ( J EERY
goes.
) He’s a good spore, isn’t he?
D INK
(reluctantly)
: I gas so.
J ANE
(hugging him consolingly)
: But you’re the uphill of my eye!
D INK : Oh, hiney!
(He holds and tries to kiss her, but she resists him.)
Oh, come on! Ploys? Pretty ploys?
(She relents and gives him a peck and then quickly raises
A LAS
’s gift bottle between them.)
J ANE : Oh, look! A vintage battle of damn pain! Let’s celibate!
(She pops it open and pours some of it into two empty lemonade glasses on the porch table. She raises her glass.)
Here, let’s test each other!
(They toast.)
To
ice
!
D INK : To
ass
!
(They drink.)
J ANE : Oh, galling! Our life together is going to be
blitz
!
(Blackout.)
A TALL TALE
America’s privately owned, fertilizer-enriched soil has nurtured some mighty big men—legends like Slipp’ry Joe Hartford, who actually sold Mother Nature unemployment insurance, or Lightnin’ Lefkowitz, the Wall Street Flash, who traded bonds so fast that no one could tell if they were really there or not. And every boy in B school has heard the story of
to
A LAS : ) He’s in debt, it’s a mortgage of convenience!
J ANE
(frightened by this sudden passion)
: Toys, please! Clam yourself! (
Earnestly, to
D INK : ) Dink, don’t drought yourself this way! Where’s the strong, stabled man I’m taking to be altered? You know I lug you, I’ll always lug you.
(She puts her arms around him maternally.)
I want ours to be a beautiful cremation-trip. But it has to be based on
truss.
(She hugs him even more suffocatingly, and not erotically.)
I want to be able to
truss
you.
D INK (
too independently to suit
J ANE ): All I did was offer Alas my seed. You act like I rammed off with her!
J ANE
(feeling dressed down before company)
: Well, maybe you’d rather ram off with her! She’s been trying to reduce you since she got here!
A LAS
(angry)
: Don’t spike like that to me! I bitter go.
J ANE
(her insecurity making her hysterical)
: Stew where you are! You’re the claws of this! You
slot
!
A LAS (
sneering at
J ANE ): What a little squirrel! I have nothing but potty for you!
(The women suddenly slap each other; the men must intervene.)
J EERY (
restraining
A LAS ): The whole tissue is ridiculous! Fighting over a man who’s in doubt up to his ears!
D INK : At least I’m not diddled with funereal disease, you bellow-jellied bullbottomed sin of the beach!
J EERY : You sod-damned cowbird!
(The men fight; now the women must intervene.)
A LAS : Stomp it! Stomp it this minute!
(There is a momentary silence, as they all recover from their wounds.)
J ANE : Why are we having such trouble trying to communicate?
D INK
(taking the lead)
: Look. Alas … I heave nothing but harpy memories of our time together. I depreciateyour good winces, but Jane and I are to be marred, and that’s that.
(He looks to
J ANE
to match his definitive renunciation.)
J ANE (
taking
J EERY
’s hand briefly
): And … Jeery … I leave you very much. You know that. But that’s all winter under the fridge. (
She turns to
A LAS . ) Alas, I’m sorry I lost my torpor.
A LAS
(with dignity)
: I understand. And I axe-up your apology. Anyway, for your inflammation, I’m getting marred myself. To Henry Silverstone.
J ANE
(impressed)
: The banker! But he’s rather old for you, isn’t he?
A LAS : Luckily, he’s in very good wealth.
(A car horn honks from offstage.)
There’s my chauffeured limbo now. I’d better get gilding. Conglomerations, and gall the best!… Goad bye!
D INK
(feeling bested)
: Bile!
J ANE
(feeling outdone)
: Bile!
( A LAS
exits.
J EERY
now feels superfluous.
)
J EERY : Her own limbo!… Well, I guess I should leave you two lifeboats alone!
J ANE : Thanks for the foul airs, Jeery! Enjoy the trance!
J EERY : Maybe I’ll meet
my
future broad!
D INK
(as if to a buddy)
: That’s the right platitude!
J EERY : So long! Have a lot of skids!
D INK : Bile!
J ANE : Bile! ( J EERY
goes.
) He’s a good spore, isn’t he?
D INK
(reluctantly)
: I gas so.
J ANE
(hugging him consolingly)
: But you’re the uphill of my eye!
D INK : Oh, hiney!
(He holds and tries to kiss her, but she resists him.)
Oh, come on! Ploys? Pretty ploys?
(She relents and gives him a peck and then quickly raises
A LAS
’s gift bottle between them.)
J ANE : Oh, look! A vintage battle of damn pain! Let’s celibate!
(She pops it open and pours some of it into two empty lemonade glasses on the porch table. She raises her glass.)
Here, let’s test each other!
(They toast.)
To
ice
!
D INK : To
ass
!
(They drink.)
J ANE : Oh, galling! Our life together is going to be
blitz
!
(Blackout.)
A TALL TALE
America’s privately owned, fertilizer-enriched soil has nurtured some mighty big men—legends like Slipp’ry Joe Hartford, who actually sold Mother Nature unemployment insurance, or Lightnin’ Lefkowitz, the Wall Street Flash, who traded bonds so fast that no one could tell if they were really there or not. And every boy in B school has heard the story of
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