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BISHOP: Donā€™t be negative.

PHYLLIS (Mary Richards): The lean-to is a pigsty.

BISHOP: Donā€™t whine.

PHYLLIS: Was it a boy or a girl?

BISHOP: Boy.

PHYLLIS: Was he cute?

BISHOP: I didnā€™t notice.

PHYLLIS: He cried on the plane.

BISHOP: You canā€™t remember that.

PHYLLIS: I do.

BISHOP: It was months ago.

PHYLLIS: Was it?

BISHOP: Or years.

PHYLLIS: But I remember. He cried on the plane. I guess the air pressure bothered him, made his ears pop.

BISHOP: Donā€™t think about it.

PHYLLIS: He cried and cried and his mother tried to get him to stop but she couldnā€™t. And I kept thinking they should just put him in the overhead baggage compartment.

BISHOP: You donā€™t remember it. You think you do.

PHYLLIS: And now youā€™re eating him. It.

BISHOP: Itā€™s good.

PHYLLIS: Is it?

BISHOP: Tender. You want some?

PHYLLIS: No thanks. I have a leg.

BISHOP: Babyā€™s better.

PHYLLIS: Would you know it if I lost my mind?

BISHOP: Iā€™d know it.

PHYLLIS: I think Iā€™ve lost my mind.

BISHOP: You havenā€™t. You were always queer.

PHYLLIS: But my hands look unfamiliar to me.

BISHOP: You need a manicure.

PHYLLIS: True. But itā€™s more than that.

BISHOP: Let me see.

(She shows him her hands.)

Theyā€™re your hands. Thatā€™s them.

PHYLLIS: What if you lost your mind, too? What if weā€™re two loons, nutty as fruitcakes and thereā€™s no one else around as a sanity barometer.

BISHOP: I havenā€™t.

PHYLLIS: I canā€™t hear you stutter anymore.

BISHOP: I donā€™t stutter anymore.

PHYLLIS: You donā€™t?

BISHOP: No.

PHYLLIS: When did that happen?

BISHOP: Months ago.

PHYLLIS: I didnā€™t hear it go away.

BISHOP: It was gradual.

PHYLLIS (After a long pause): I see things. I look up at the sky and the clouds arrange themselves into hot-air balloons. Beautiful balloons, all different colors, like a box of crayons. And they block the sun. And Iā€™m in one, and I fly away.

BISHOP (Sadistic): Katharine Hepburn playedā€”

PHYLLIS (Terrified): No.

BISHOP: A hot-air balloonistā€”

PHYLLIS: No, no. Pleaseā€”

BISHOP: In Olly Olly Oxenfree!

PHYLLIS: No!

BISHOP: She did her own stunts!

PHYLLIS: I donā€™t want to hear it! I donā€™t want to hear about it!

BISHOP: She flew the balloon herself!

PHYLLIS: NO! NO! NO MORE ABOUT HER!

BISHOP: It was directed by Richard Colla!!

PHYLLIS: PLEASE, BISHOP, PLEASE!

BISHOP: IT WAS NEVER RELEASED!!

PHYLLIS: STOP IT STOP IT!!

BISHOP: IT WAS SOLD DIRECTLY TO HBO!!

PHYLLIS: I AM YOUR MOTHER!!

BISHOP: SO WHAT?

PHYLLIS: I FORBID IT!

BISHOP: Forbid what?

PHYLLIS: PLEASE!!

BISHOP: What do you forbid? WHAT?

PHYLLIS: LEAVE ME ALONE!

BISHOP: SAY IT!

PHYLLIS: No, donā€™t make me!

BISHOP: SAY! IT!!

PHYLLIS: YOU MAY NOTā€”

BISHOP: I MAY NOT?!

PHYLLIS: MAY NOT MENTIONā€”

BISHOP: WHO?!

PHYLLIS: HER!!

BISHOP: WHO!!?

PHYLLIS: YOU KNOW WHO!

BISHOP: Who do you mean? Iā€™m not sure I understand.

PHYLLIS: YOU KNOW WHO I MEAN!!

BISHOP: SAY IT!! SAY IT!! GODDAMN YOU!!

PHYLLIS (In a wild frenzy, she tries to begin the play again): Iloathethebeach.IamPhyllisHoganandIdosoloathethebeach. Itistheverydefinitionofmonotony.Justsandandwaterandsand andwaterandmoresandandmorewater.Andlookaperfectly goodpairofshoes.SusanBennis/WarrenEdwardscrocodile andcompletelyruinedIā€™veneverunderā€”

BISHOP: SAY IT!

PHYLLIS: Iloathethe beach/Iloathethe beach/Iloathethe beachā€”

BISHOP: WHO CANā€™T I MENTION!! WHO! SAY IT!!

PHYLLIS: KATHARINE HEPBURN!!!!

BISHOP: WHO!!!??

PHYLLIS: KATHARINE HEPBURN! KATHARINE HEPBURN!! KA-THA-RINE-HEP-BURN!! THERE! I FORBID YOU!! I FORBID IT! YOU WILL NOT SAY HER NAME AGAIN!!!

BISHOP: Who, Mother?

PHYLLIS: KA! THA! RINE! HEP! BURN! KATHARINEHEP-

BURN!!

BISHOP: HA HA HA HAAAA!

PHYLLIS: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, Iā€” I (She rushes off stage)

BISHOP: Itā€™s so easy to get under her skin.

(Bishop sits and eats ā€œthe baby.ā€ Pam enters, followed by Howard. She takes a pill.)

HOWARD: I wish youā€™d stop.

PAM: I wish I was the Queen of France.

HOWARD: I thought, if you were happy, you would stop.

PAM: If I were to stop, I wouldnā€™t be happy.

HOWARD: Arenā€™t you happy?

PAM: Yes. No.

HOWARD: Donā€™t I make you happy?

PAM: Itā€™s not that simple.

HOWARD: Of course it is.

PAM: Leave me alone.

HOWARD: I want you to stop taking pills.

PAM: Youā€™re not my father.

HOWARD: Please.

PAM: What do you care?

HOWARD: I donā€™t know, maybe itā€™s me. But Iā€™d just as soon not have you shriek in the night that your feet are gone and the walls are laughing at you.

PAM: My feet were laughing at me and the walls flew away. You are so self-absorbed.

HOWARD: Iā€™d rather not have to worry, when we go through customs, that theyā€™ll find LSD in your Harperā€™s Bazaar.

PAM: Well they didnā€™t, did they?

HOWARD: That isnā€™t the point.

PAM: No. The point is, it was House and Garden.

HOWARD: How can that be the point?

PAM: It is. It is exactly the point. Because youā€™re so wrapped up in yourself you donā€™t even know if Iā€™m smuggling stuff in Harperā€™s Bazaar or House and Garden when the two magazines are completely different. They have absolutely nothing in common.

HOWARD (Out): Theyā€™re both magazines.

PAM: Have you ever read Harperā€™s Bazaar? I donā€™t think so. I donā€™t think you could have or you couldnā€™t confuse it with House and Garden. House and Garden is just pictures of rich peopleā€™s homes and decorating ideas. Harperā€™s Bazaar is fashion and gossip and much trendier. But it doesnā€™t relate to you, so you wouldnā€™t know that.

HOWARD: Whatā€™s that got to do with your drug problem?

PAM: I donā€™t have a drug problem.

HOWARD: I think you do.

PAM: Itā€™s strictly recreational.

HOWARD: You are continually stoned.

PAM: I have a lot of free time.

HOWARD: What do you want?

PAM: Marry me.

HOWARD: Stop and Iā€™ll marry you.

PAM: Marry me and Iā€™ll stop.

HOWARD: You go first.

PAM: You go first.

HOWARD: You go first.

PAM: You go first.

HOWARD: You go first.

PAM: Theyā€™re not coming back.

HOWARD: I donā€™t want to talk about it.

PAM: Itā€™s been three years.

HOWARD: Letā€™s go to bed.

PAM: Theyā€™re dead, Howard. They are.

HOWARD: You donā€™t understand.

PAM: Marry me, Howard.

HOWARD: No.

PAM: I think we should separate.

HOWARD: Maybe youā€™re right.

PAM: I think maybe itā€™s time.

HOWARD: I think maybe we should.

PAM: I think you should move out.

HOWARD: I think maybe I ought to.

PAM: I think that would be best.

HOWARD: I think maybe youā€™re right.

(They embrace. Bishop walks down center. He addresses the audience. He is now a frightening, feral beast, rhythmic, ruthless and savage in his manner.)

BISHOP: My body is like this building, that Iā€™m building one brick at a time. One brick at a fucking time. There is life on the island. The monkeys have come outta the trees. There are maggots on the rotting branches and a fistful makes lunch. There are birds in the sky and I can hit them with rocks and we eat them. Iā€™m not afraid of the animals. Theyā€™re

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