Head of the Family Page #6

I mean, I am mostly intellect

but you see I am

a man whose will--

I just want to be

close to you, honey.

No one has ever said

that to me before, oh.

Your not-- your not talking

advantage of me, are you?

Oh, Lorretta this

is revolting.

Shut up.

Well, Myron honey, I

never take advantage.

I'm just-- just-- just

expressing my true feelings.

Enough, and you have

no ulterior motive?

Motive?

Oh no, no, not at all.

I just want to be yours forever.

Well, Lorretta.

You are without a doubt

extremely entertaining. [laughs]

I can't exactly say what it

is that you do but I can see

that you do it very well.

Unfortunately, I'm just too

busy with my ongoing plans

for world domination

and all to--

to take time out for romance.

No darling, I'm afraid

it'll just have

to be death by torturous plan.

Now, hold on, please,

just give me chance.

I can make you happy.

You're my dream boat, just

let me give you a little hug.

You'll have to

excuse me, Mr. Bogen.

I have preparations to

make for the performance.

[Inaudible] up to a little

cultural activity, Mr. Bogen?

At least I'm right side up.

All right, so what

is this place,

home movie theater or something?

No, it isn't a

home movie theater.

Once in my great

grandfather's time,

a family would enjoy

dramatic presentations here.

Sometimes actors were brought

in for private performances

as if for royalty.

You might be interested

to know that in 1859,

John Wilkes Booth performed

Hamlet on this very stage.

Is that before or

after he shot Lincoln?

Before, you idiot.

He was shot afterward.

Oh, yeah.

I guess that make sense?

No doubt.

Over the years, I have tried

to recapture a tiny fragment

of that long lost grace staging

my own humble theatricals here

on this stage.

Mr. Bogen, are you perhaps

familiar with Joan of Arc?

Huh?

Joan of Arc.

Does the name strike

a responsive cord?

Oh, yeah, yeah,

Ingrid Bergman, right?

She was a nurse or something.

Well, a saint or satanist,

depending on whom you believe.

I find her a fascinating

figure, a saint,

madwoman, warrior, visionary.

[Laughs] Oh, who you have

as the cast, Otis and Wheeler?

Oh, no, no, no.

Their brains of too

deeply submerged to be able

to decently memorize lines.

I suppose I could speak

through them myself

that I should have no doubt

seeing the results are rather

limited and now I turn to

my patients for the cast.

Do you mean those guys

[inaudible] intercom?

Oh, some of them are

perfectly hopeless as actors

of course, the violent ones

or the catatonic ones although

at least they can carry

spears, but you'd be amazed.

Some of their performances

with the proper rehearsal

and motivation can

be quite moving.

Of course, I have recently

suffered a significant setback.

Oh, now, I'm supposed to ask

what your setback is, right?

My lead actress, my Joan

has recently lost the power

of coherent speech.

She just says, "Snow"

over and over again.

I have no idea why.

Maybe she used to

be a weather girl.

No, that's not it.

The point is I have no

Joan but thanks to you,

I now have a unique opportunity.

How so?

By the delightful

Mrs. Oates, of course.

She is going to be my

Joan for a one time only,

never to be forgotten

performance featuring a

climatic, burning at the

stake that will no doubt

from startling in its realism.

You son of a--

Tell me the name

of the second lawyer.

Go to hell.

I hope you do

realize, of course,

that the more you resist,

the happier it makes me.

You're going to torture

me no matter what I tell you.

So you can not only go to hell,

you can go f*** yourself if you,

in fact, have a dick

to f*** yourself with.

Well, I have to admit

you talk a good game.

Now, we are going to see

what you are really made of.

Let the play begin.

Avant,

attend and hear the tale

of the gallant made of

[inaudible], Gallant Joan chosen

by God, betrayed by man, fly

on wings imaginary to our scene

of justice most tragic.

Witness the burning of an angel

in a market place of Rome.

Bring forth the accused,

the witch of Orleans.

Aww--

Here, you kneel, wicked girl

before the authority of man

and of God, what speak you.

Huh?

[Noise] Aww.

Kindly read the

lines, Mrs. Oates.

We are striving for

some fragment

of artistic integrity here.

The lines.

[Noise] Aww.

All right, all right.

Page 1, please.

Oh, man and God

would speak you--

what shall I say to you who

are wrapped in the royal robes

of England, sworn

enemy of France.

Speak simply girl,

thou stand not before man

but before God's

chosen officers.

Answer for the crimes of

heresy and of witchcraft.

Confess them harlot.

Yeah [noise], aaw.

What-- I'm trying

to find my line.

What shall I confess, who have

but followed God's ordin--

ordin off-- ordin in.

[Noise] Aaw.

Ordinances.

Ordinances.

Of what things do you fear to

tell of your speech with Satan?

Of his tempting of the

covenant of 13 which you led

against your rightful king.

I know no rightful king,

save my own King of

France Charles Vi.

[Noise] Aww-- what?

I am reading it.

Its not Vi, it's V-I-I,

roman numeral VII,

Charles the Seventh.

Continue.

Lance, this is

all your fault.

[Noise] Aww.

Okay, okay Charles the VII.

And I know nothing

of [inaudible]

or intercourse with Satan.

I do as my God commands.

How do you like it so far?

The retard is doing a better

job acting than Lorretta.

Don't worry, I'm sure

she'll get into that spirit

of it as the drama unfolds.

Enough of thy blasphemies

daughter of Satan.

By the word of the rightful

king, I order thee bound

to the post of repentance.

No, no.

See citizens of Rouen,

behold the price of a witch,

daughter of Satan confess.

I pray thee and save thy soul.

F*** off.

[Noise] Aww.

Hold it steady half-brain.

Oh, noble sir, I am but a simple

country maid-- oh, geez Louise.

Lance! God damn it, tell

him the name of the lawyer.

I'm sorry honey, that's

my only bargain and chip.

You hang in there honey lips.

Hang in there, hang in there?

I ought to kill you,

you son of a b*tch.

Oh, Jimmy f***ing

cricket, now what?

Lance! [Noise] Aww.

Country maid, simple

country maid.

My soul is God's and his angels

will welcome me to paradise.

He knows the secrets

of my heart as no man--

hold it steady-- ever shall.

Though flame shall consume

me, my face shall not fail.

Though flame shall consume

me-- holy sh*t, Lance.

Mr. Bogen, as you can see

we are rapidly approaching the

climax of our little

dramatic tableau,

tell me the name of

the second lawyer.

You ain't no starting

no fire in that stage,

you'll burn your

whole house down.

Your concern for my residence

is touching but don't you worry.

I've taken every precaution

to fireproof the stage.

Then [inaudible] move the

smoke, Helen extinguishes,

will remove the flames

after the play is over.

Nothing will be permanently

damaged

with the exception

of Mrs. Oates.

Oh God, Lance,

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