Etiquette and Vitriol by Nicky Silver (classic fiction .txt) 📗

They’re too small. Do you have something in an eight?

HOWARD: An eight?

PHYLLIS: These aren’t my shoes. These are a six. I’m an eight. These are sixes. Bishop, are these your shoes?

BISHOP: God!

PHYLLIS: Bishop, have you been wearing ladies’ shoes? I should never have sent you to a private school. I don’t mean to be judgmental—

BISHOP: THEY ARE NOT MY SHOES!

PHYLLIS: Oh.

HOWARD: Don’t you like them?

PHYLLIS: Are you a transvestite now, Howard?

HOWARD: They’re my mother’s shoes.

PHYLLIS: Your mother died when you were five.

HOWARD: They’re an heirloom.

PHYLLIS: That’s touching.

HOWARD: Won’t you come in now?

PHYLLIS: And they look right up-to-the-minute. Funny how fashion repeats itself.

HOWARD: Someone will get off the elevator. Someone will see you.

BISHOP: I’m going in.

PHYLLIS: Bishop!!!

BISHOP (He rushes into the room and stands center): Look. Look, airbrain—

HOWARD: I don’t think you should call your mother an airbrain.

BISHOP: Shut up.—Look. I’m in. I’m inside and nothing happened. It’s fine. It’s fucking fine. There’s nothing to be afraid of.—What the fuck you staring at?

HOWARD: I don’t understand.

BISHOP: The crudhead’s afraid to come in—

HOWARD: I don’t think you should call your mother a crudhead.

PHYLLIS: I’ll never get out.

HOWARD: What?

PHYLLIS: If I come in. I’ll never get out again. And the room doesn’t look very big. And I don’t recognize the furniture.

HOWARD: It’s new.

PHYLLIS: Oh.

HOWARD: Don’t you like it?

PHYLLIS (Waving at furniture): I don’t even know it. How could I like it?

HOWARD: Bishop likes it. Don’t you, Bishop?

BISHOP: I HATE IT!!!!

PHYLLIS: He forms opinions quickly.

BISHOP: IT’S UGLY!!!

PHYLLIS: Someone’s getting off the elevator! Someone’s coming!

(She runs into the room)

HOWARD: There.

PHYLLIS: I don’t like it here! I don’t like it. I want to go. This isn’t my home. This isn’t my furniture!

BISHOP: Get a hold of yourself, vomithead.

HOWARD: I don’t think you should call your mother vomithead.

PHYLLIS: This isn’t my living room. Everything’s different! This isn’t my chair!

HOWARD: It’s new.

PHYLLIS: I want my chair! Where’s my chair!

HOWARD: It’s gone. You like this one.

PHYLLIS: I don’t! It’s strange. Ooh, ick, I hate this chair.

BISHOP: The chair is fine, bilebrain.

HOWARD: I don’t think you should—

PHYLLIS: I WANT MY OLD CHAIR!

HOWARD: But.

BISHOP: Get her old chair, for Christ’s sake.

PHYLLIS: I WANT IT. I WANT IT.

HOWARD: I threw it out.

PHYLLIS: WHY!!

BISHOP (Threatens): That was stupid.

HOWARD: I redecorated. I just got some new furniture. That’s all.

PHYLLIS: This isn’t my home. Where am I? My home has a wingback chair. Where am I?

HOWARD: You are home.

PHYLLIS: I don’t think so.

BISHOP: You shouldn’ta thrown it out, craphead.

HOWARD: I don’t think you should call me craphead—

BISHOP: Shut up.

PHYLLIS: Wherever I am. I want to leave. Can I leave here? Do you think we could go, Bishop?

BISHOP: We just got here—

PHYLLIS: But I don’t like it.

HOWARD: What’s wrong with her?

BISHOP: She’s nuts, splitbrain—

HOWARD: I don’t think—

PHYLLIS (Hiding her eyes with the shoes, she sinks to the ground): This is not my home.

BISHOP: She’s a dusthead.

PHYLLIS: Is not. Is not. Is not.

BISHOP: Ignore her.

PHYLLIS: Is not. Is not. Is not.

BISHOP: Yeah. She’ll shut up.

HOWARD: Maybe she should lie down.

BISHOP: Do you want to lie down?

PHYLLIS: My feet hurt.

HOWARD: What does that mean?

BISHOP: It means her feet hurt, phlegmhead.

HOWARD: I don’t think you should call me—

BISHOP: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

PHYLLIS: My feet hurt.

HOWARD: Would you like to lie down?

PHYLLIS: These shoes are pretty, but they’re too small.

BISHOP: She doesn’t want to lie down.

PHYLLIS: I think they’re a six.

BISHOP: Ignore her.

PHYLLIS: I’m an eight.

HOWARD: Ignore her?

PHYLLIS: Do you have anything in an eight? A pump?

BISHOP: She’ll shut up. You’ll shut up, won’t you dusthead?

PHYLLIS: Black crocodile, maybe?

HOWARD: Well, sit down, son.

BISHOP: You sit down.

HOWARD (Sitting): All right.

PHYLLIS: Do you have anything in patent leather?

HOWARD: How are you son?

BISHOP: Gee, I’m fine, thanks. And you?

HOWARD: Good, good. I’m good.

BISHOP: That’s good.

HOWARD: I’m fine.

PHYLLIS: I’d like to see this in an eight.

HOWARD: It’s good to have you home.

BISHOP: Mmmmmmm.

HOWARD: It’s good to have you home.

BISHOP: You said that.

HOWARD: Oh. (Reaching out to Bishop) Tell me. Was it terrible. Do you want to talk about it?

BISHOP: Want to make a movie of it?

HOWARD: Well, maybe.

BISHOP: Fuck you.

HOWARD: I don’t think—

PHYLLIS (Out): Excuse me, could someone help me?

HOWARD: What?

PHYLLIS (Out): Could someone—I’d like to try something on.

BISHOP: Ignore her!!

PHYLLIS (Out): Could someone help me?

HOWARD: Well. I guess you’re anxious to get back to school, back to your friends?

BISHOP: What friends?

HOWARD: Your little friends—

BISHOP: I’m not going back.

HOWARD: You have to go to school.

PHYLLIS (To Howard): Could someone help me please?

HOWARD: Everybody goes to school.

BISHOP: Do you?

PHYLLIS (Out): This is a terrible store.

HOWARD: You used to like school.

PHYLLIS (Out): The salespeople hate me.

HOWARD: You used to enjoy it.

BISHOP: That was then.

HOWARD: Well, once you go back—

BISHOP: I’M NOT GOING BACK!

PHYLLIS (To Howard): Could someone please, please help me?

HOWARD: You try it. You go back and give it a try.

PHYLLIS (More desperate): Please, please, please!

BISHOP (To Howard): Fuck you.

HOWARD: Maybe not this week. You rest this week.

PHYLLIS: Please, please, please!

HOWARD: Maybe next week. You’ll go back next week and you’ll see you like it.

BISHOP: It’s summer! You asshole! It’s fucking summer! What will I do at the fucking school when I get there! It’s fucking summer!

HOWARD: Well there is summer school!!! Maybe you’ve heard of summer school!!! It’s school! And they have it in the summer!!

BISHOP: Shut up!

HOWARD: I don’t mean to shout.

BISHOP: Fuck you!

HOWARD: I don’t mean to lose my temper.

BISHOP: Drop dead!

HOWARD: I mean to be a good father!

PHYLLIS (Out; breaking down): All I want—all I want to do, all I want to do is, I want to try, I want to try on some shoes! Shoes! Shoes. And no one will pay any, no one will wait, wait on me! I need some, some, no one will, will, will someone help me, help me, help me, help me—

HOWARD (Going to her): Calm down Phyllis, calm down. It’s all right. I’m here. I’m here.

BISHOP (Almost chanting): DO NOT TOUCH HER! DO NOT TOUCH HER! DO NOT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!!? DO NOT!

PHYLLIS: I—

BISHOP: DO NOT! DO NOT! DO NOT! DO NOT! DO NOT! DO NOT!

(There is a blackout and Howard steps into a