Happy Birthday, Wanda June Page #18

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LOOSELEAF:

He's a kind of gladiator who fights

with a knife and a net and doesn't

wear anything but a jockstrap.

HAROLD:

(amazed)

How do you know that?

LOOSELEAF:

You told me.

HAROLD:

When?

LOOSELEAF:

When we were up in the tree so

long--with the bats.

HAROLD:

Oh. I'd forgotten.

LOOSELEAF:

Fourteen times you told me. I

counted.

HAROLD:

Really?

LOOSELEAF:

You'd get this funny look in your

eyes, and I'd say to myself, "Oh,

Jesus--he's going to tell me what a

retiarius is again."

HAROLD:

(acknowledging a flaw

in a manly way)

Sorry.

PENELOPE enters, is about to speak. HAROLD stops her with a

raised finger.

HAROLD:

Let me guess--breakfast is served?

PENELOPE:

No.

HAROLD:

What then?

PENELOPE:

I do not wish to be scrogged--ever.

I never heard that word, but when I

heard it, I knew it was one thing I

never wanted to have happen to me.

HAROLD:

That's what you're supposed to say.

PENELOPE:

This is not a coy deception. I do

not want to be scrogged. I want

love. I want tenderness.

HAROLD:

You don't know you want. That's

the way God built you!

PENELOPE:

I will not be scrogged. I remember

one time I saw you wrench a hook

from the throat of a fish with a

pair of pliers, and you promised me

that the fish couldn't feel.

HAROLD:

It couldn't!

PENELOPE:

I'd like to have the expert opinion

of the fish--along with yours.

HAROLD:

(shaking his head)

Fish can't feel.

PENELOPE:

Well, I can. Some injuries,

spiritual or physical, can be

excruciating to me. I'm not a

silly carhop any more.

(an unexpected, minor insight)

Maybe you're right about fish.

When I was a carhop, I didn't feel

much more than a fish would. But

I've been sensitized. I have ideas

now--and solid information. I know

a lot more now--and a lot of it has

to do with you.

HAROLD:

(sensing danger)

Such as?...

PENELOPE:

The whole concept of heroism--and

its sexual roots.

HAROLD:

Tell me about its sexual roots.

PENELOPE:

It's complicated and I don't want

to go into it now, because it's

bound to sound insulting--even

though nobody means for anybody to

be insulted. It's just the truth.

HAROLD:

I like the truth. I wouldn't be

alive today if I weren't one of the

biggest fans truth ever had.

PENELOPE:

Well--part of it is that heroes

basically hate home and never stay

there very long, and make awful

messes while they're there.

HAROLD:

Go on.

PENELOPE:

(blurting)

And they have very mixed feelings

about women. They hate them in a

way. One reason they like war so

much is that they can capture enemy

women and not have to make love to

them slowly and gently. They can

scrog them, as you say--

(pause)

for revenge.

HAROLD:

You learned this in some college

course?

PENELOPE:

I learned a lot of things in

college. Actually--it was Norbert

who told me that.

HAROLD:

(darkly)

The doctor.

PENELOPE:

Yes.

HAROLD:

And what is his most cherished

possession?

PENELOPE:

(not sensing the

drift of the conversation)

His most cherished possession? His

violin, I guess.

HAROLD:

And he keeps it in his apartment?

PENELOPE:

(still at sea)

Yes.

HAROLD:

And no one's there now?

PENELOPE:

I don't think so.

HAROLD:

That's too bad. I would rather

have him at home--to see what I'm

going to do.

PENELOPE:

(suddenly catching

on, sick with fear)

What are you going to do?

HAROLD:

He did his best to destroy my most

precious possession, which is the

high opinion women have of me. I'm

now going to even that score. I'm

going to break in his door and I'm

going to smash his violin.

PENELOPE:

No you're not!

HAROLD:

Why not?

PENELOPE:

Because if you do--I'll leave you.

HAROLD:

(promptly and emotionlessly)

Goodbye.

Blackout.

SCENE TWO:

SPOTLIGHT comes up on VON KONIGSWALD and WANDA JUNE, dressed

as before. They have become close friends.

WANDA JUNE:

We have this new club up here in

Heaven.

VON KONIGSWALD:

Yes, we do.

WANDA JUNE:

We only have two members so far,

but it's growing all the time.

VON KONIGSWALD:

We have enough for a shuffleboard

team. In Heaven, shuffleboard is

everything. Hitler plays

shuffleboard.

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