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RehabilitationA Fable of Capitalism

Roy Lisker8 Liberty Street #306

Middletown, CT 06457rlisker@yahoo.com

http://www.fermentmagazine.orgCast Of Characters

(In order of appearance) Arnold Wexelblatt Electrical EngineerPeter Maywood Psychiatric Social WorkerReverend Bill Bean Director,

Mission of the Holy BreathJason Security GuardFrog, Esther, Ski-Cap , Juan , Dan , Bernice , Arthur, Kevin, Dutch, Curtis, etc. Derelicts Fred College Drop-out; Alcoholic ; later Electrical EngineerClair Maywood Peter Maywood's Wife Beth Cunningham Wexelblatt's girl-friend, later wife

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Mike Bowery BartenderJoe Bowery Newspaper Vendor ActorJohn Fillinger Con Edison StockholderPortnoy Hinkmann President of Con EdStanley Arbuthnot Vice-President Con EdReceptionist at Con EdPhoebus Cadwalader Treasurer, Con EdDr. Wilfred Banks Economist, Con EdBruno Philipone Manager, Gotham Tour GuidesMabel Jenkins PR Officer, Con EdDr. Maureen Shetley NY City Board of EducationDave, Bob, Carl EngineersLinda, Priscilla SecretariesTony Alcoholic, age 14Major Brink Commander, New Jersey National GuardWaiters, Cooks, Derelicts, Japanese Tourists, Stockholders, Bar-Tenders, Customers, Soldiers

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Act IScene 1

The 1970's. Interior Terrace, the "Bagel Nosh" restaurant,

70th and Broadway, New York City. Around 8 PM, a weekday in

winter.( Stage directions are given from the viewpoint of the

audience .)

Stage Left : a floor-to-ceiling framed WINDOW looking

out onto a busy, snow-covered New York City Uptown street

scene.

Center Stage : Several TABLES with customers seated at

them. The normal activity of a busy restaurant

Far Right : A PARTITION which partly screens several

cafeteria counters. A line of 4 or 5 customers at back stage

disappears into the partition. Others exit from its foreground

end carrying trays of sandwiches, coffee, soft drinks, etc.

Foreground Center : Seated alone at a table, facing left:

ARNOLD WEXELBLATT. He is an inventor and electrical

engineer in his early 30's . There are 2 additional chairs at this

table. One of them holds his winter coat and an ostentatiously

large black briefcase. It is opened and filled with documents

and gadgets . The other chair is empty. Suit jacket hangs on

the back of his chair. Tie loosened, shirt-sleeves rolled up.

Wexelblatt is energetic though flabby , brainy, conceited

and unfriendly. A permanent aura of distress hangs over his

features. As the curtain rises one sees him absorbed in the

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perusal of a technical report gripped in his left hand and

propped up against some object such as a sugar container .

With his right hand he absent-mindedly feeds himself

salad (macaroni, potato, whatever) from a paper dish with a

plastic fork. Next to the dish sits a fragment of poppyseed bagel

spread with cream-cheese, and a large untouched piece of lox

( it will become a stage prop) ; the Jewish ethnic stereotype is

deliberate. Sometimes he picks it up to munch on it. Also a

glass holding ice water.

ENTER from the lower end of the partition at Stage

Right : PETER MAYWOOD. He is a psychiatric social worker, in

the same age group but noticeably older . He supports a tray

with his right hand . On it are a paper plate holding a ham-filled

bagel sandwich, a plate of herring, a plastic knife and fork, and

a paper cup filled with apple juice. Dangling from the fingers of

his left hand is a sleek Samsonite attaché case. ( The contrast

between the bureaucratic style of his briefcase, and

Wexelblatt's sizable one, is noticeable.) He wears a warm black

raincoat.

Maywood is nervous, fidgety. His eyes dart about the room

as he stands in one place looking for somewhere to sit down.

Then he notices the vacant chair at Wexelblatt's table. As he

passes behind Wexelblatt on his way to this chair, his attaché

case knocks down the technical report Wexelblatt's been

reading. Wexelblatt stands up quickly, indignant. As he does so

the cup of macaroni salad spills onto the table and possibly his

report .

#5...

WEXELBLATT: (In a fury)... You stupid! .. imbecile ! ...

MAYWOOD: Gracious! I've done it again! I'm terribly sorry. I apologize ! (Pauses. Slyly. Wags finger ) ... Latent hostility, Eh?

WEXELBLATT: Goddamn it, look at the mess you've made!

MAYWOOD: (Talking as to a child.) Now, now. ; calm down. ( Wexelblatt ignores Maywood as he wipes off the report.) That's not so bad, is it? ( Wexelblatt sits down and continues to read it where he left off. A long pause, during which Maywood regards him with perverse curiosity.)

MAYWOOD: Is it okay if I sit down here? ( Indicates the vacant chair)

WEXELBLATT: ( Looks up, furious. Shakes his head, indicating exasperation , not refusal. ) Suit yourself. If it's not you it's some other asshole.

MAYWOOD: Thanks. (Sits down. Continues to study Wexelblatt with fascination, in the manner of a case history. Oblivious to clear indications that Wexelblatt doesn't want to be bothered. ) You intrigue me. ( Wexelblatt squints at him with hostility) People fascinate me; it's my profession.

WEXELBLATT: (Flares up. Slams his report on the table.) God damn it ! A social worker!

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MAYWOOD: ( Stiffly) Ph.D. , Johns Hopkins 1964. 3 years with the Lawrence Foundation for Recovering Alcoholics. Awarded a citation 1968 for ...

WEXELBLATT: Did I ask for your credentials? Can't you see you're bothering me? ( Returns to studying his report. Maywood eats fitfully, continues to stare at Wexelblatt. Surprisingly, it is Wexelblatt who breaks the silence.)

WEXELBLATT: So; what do you do for a living now?

MAYWOOD: (Overjoyed.) He's talking to me! WEXELBLATT: Could be. I study this gook all day

long. It's giving me a headache. ( Lays the report aside on the table.) Why do you want to know what I do for a living?

MAYWOOD: I'll tell you in a moment. First let me ask you a question I ask everybody.

WEXELBLATT: Ask away. Nothing phases me. MAYWOOD: Did you have a happy childhood? WEXELBLATT( Stares at him with incredulity. A

deprecating laugh): My childhood? My childhood begins in my mommy's tummy. It ends at age 7 when I discovered mathematics. From then on is my adulthood.

MAYWOOD: Fascinating.

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WEXELBLATT: Takes all kinds. Now you answer my question: What does a pseudo-statistician like you do for a living?

MAYWOOD: ( Not in the least offended) I'm intrigued by the comment you've just made: "I discovered mathematics"..(Cranes his neck around to peer at Wexelblatt's report) Why, that page is covered with ... figures! Equations! ( Leans back and looks at Wexelblatt with new-found admiration. ) Are you among the lucky few who find "personal fulfillment" in their "economic activity?"

WEXELBLATT: ( Rhetorically, as if talking to himself) Should I even bother to answer that one? ( Pause) Okay. (Shouts) NO!!!

MAYWOOD: (Incredulous) But .. that report's filled with math ... Doesn't that make you happy?

WEXELBLATT: ( Sputtering with astonishment) Why ...you must really be a first-class asshole to think that...

MAYWOOD: Don't be offended: I'm serious! Why aren't you happy?

WEXELBLATT: ( Regains his self-possession ) Okay, okay ... I'm an electrical engineer. I design microchip components for "I.S.A." You must know what those initials stand for...

MAYWOOD: Why yes, of course ...er .. I mean ...er ... what does "I.S.A." stand for?

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WEXELBLATT: Integrated Systems Associates . My office sits on the 22nd floor of a building over on 6th Avenue. Its director is a hairless superannuated mongoloid moron ! I work for him.

MAYWOOD: That doesn't answer my question. Why are you unhappy?

WEXELBLATT: I don't believe this. All right, Mister B.F. Skinner! I'm not happy because I work for somebody else , when I've got enough brains and imagination that I don't have to work for somebody else! In fact, I've got enough of my own brains , and my own imagination to be the president of my own company on Route 128 outside of Cambridge! Mass! Does that answer your question?

MAYWOOD: (Sententiously) A man like yourself has every right in this society to a corporation of his own.

WEXELBLATT: Oh crap! (Grabs and drinks up Maywood's orange juice.) I'll tell you the whole story. First because you're a complete stranger. Second because you're too stupid to steal my ideas.

MAYWOOD: Hmmm: suspicious, too ! I won't steal your ideas ... I've got so many problems of my own (Sighs) Please don't talk about it if you don't want to.

WEXELBLATT: Why not? I've got nothing to lose.

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( Expansively) Welcome to the life story of Arnold Wexelblatt! (As an afterthought) P.H.D. !! Inventor extraordinaire ! Possibly a mad genius!

MAYWOOD: Go on.WEXELBLATT: Others are becoming rich on my

ideas. That's the story of my life ! MAYWOOD: Oh no, you must be exaggerating. WEXELBLATT: Exaggerating my tuckis!

He reaches into his briefcase and yanks out a sheaf

of blueprints, which he lays across the table. Maywood pulls out

his reading glasses out from a suit pocket, puts them on and

scrutinizes the papers with perplexity :

MAYWOOD: It's over my head I'm afraid... (Looks at him once again with admiration. ) I'm impressed !

WEXELBLATT: Over your head? We can take care of that.

He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a contraption,

a kind of head set . It combines ear-plugs, ear-phones, and a

cable that connects under the chin to a box holding a gauge and

a knob.

WEXELBLATT: Go ahead .. put it on ... ( They stand up. Wexelblatt assists Maywood in fitting the apparatus over his head. The customers stare at them from curiosity )

I call it a "v-sam" That's short for Variable Sound Amplitude Modulator .. This part over here screws into the right ear ... That goes there..

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MAYWOOD : What's the knob thing for ?WEXELBLATT: You'll see. It isn't pretty I

admit ... neither is a crash helmet. When everybody starts wearing them it won't make any difference.... Twist the knob all the way to the left.

MAYWOOD: ( Does so) Like that?WEXELBLATT: Yes. What do you hear?MAYWOOD: Nothing. Not a damn thing. I can

barely make out you voice. It's like I'm deaf! WEXELBLATT: Good. Now suppose I do this.. ( He

grabs the knob and gives it a swift turn in the opposite direction.

MAYWOOD : YOWL! ( Rips the apparatus off his head.)

WEXELBLATT: That way you can hear a fly buzzing at 30 feet! (They both sit down. Customers interest fades) Within our lifetime civilization will have to decide: wear the V- SAM ... or go deaf!

MAYWOOD: (Stares at the blueprint in amazement; then back at Wexelblatt) Why ...why ..that's simply ...GENIUS!! Why it's... what's your name, by the way ?

WEXELBLATT: Wexelblatt. Arnold Wexelblatt. MAYWOOD: Glad to meet you. Peter Maywood.

(They shake hands) Arnold, that idea is ... Stupendous !! Why, in the name of all that's holy, aren't you rich, God damn it !

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WEXELBLATT: Why? Why, he asks! (Derisive laughter) Why, indeed! (Throws up his hands) Why? Because , Dr. Sigmund Freud , my idea was stolen ... by a friend .. by my closest friend!

MAYWOOD: Do I know this person?WEXELBLATT: A goniff, may he rot in hell ! You

don't want to know him. MAYWOOD: Tell me all about it...Go on, you can trust me. I'm trained to be a good listener

WEXELBLATT: (Shakes head in disbelief, but goes on): We were room-mates. About 5 years ago, before I met Beth.

MAYWOOD: Beth?WEXELBLATT: My fiancée. She's an oboist with

the Tochter Aus Elysium Chamber Players , one of those snooty ensembles that performs modern music I can't stand. We co-habit in a dive on West End Avenue, surrounded by her musician friends, who also I can't stand ...

MAYWOOD: Don't let me interrupt. Go on.WEXELBLATT: The blueprints were sitting on my

desk. I was called away to Washington for two days, enough time for my room-mate to have them duplicated. The next day he moves out. Before you can blink he's got a contract ...we're speaking 6 figures ... from the world's biggest manufacturer of hearing aids.

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MAYWOOD: Gosh! What a terrible blow to your ego! Is it on the market?

WEXELBLATT: No way. The company killed it! MAYWOOD : I don't understand. WEXELBLATT: They want people to go deaf. MAYWOOD: (Unsure of how to take this) That's

life all over, I suppose... WEXELBLATT: You can put it that way if you

like...(Pause) MAYWOOD: Was that your only invention? WEXELBLATT: What do you take me for? A flash

in the pan? MAYWOOD: I didn't mean to offend ; I'm sorry.WEXELBLATT: (Loud voice) I'VE GOT HUNDREDS

! My notebooks are filled with them ! They won't let me sleep! Some of them are better than others , of course. (Mysteriously lowers his voice): I've come with an idea that could save the world!!

MAYWOOD: (Frightened, also lowers his voice) You don't believe you're Jesus Christ, do you?

WEXELBLATT: No, Sigmund, I'm not a nut case: (SHOUTS) I DON'T THINK I'M JESUS CHRIST! ( The other customers look around, angry and disturbed) .

MAYWOOD: (Low voice) Okay, okay; you don't have to shout. (Normal voice) So tell me.

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WEXELBLATT: (Normal voice) Here ( Reaches into his briefcase, pulls out a fistful of green IBM computer sheets.) This is guaranteed to knock you cold.... (Spreads the sheets out over the table) .. Six years of work!!

MAYWOOD: (Examines them, perplexed :) I failed calculus, I'm ashamed to tell you. this might just as well be Chinese

WEXELBLATT: ( Amused) That's why you're a psychiatrist.

MAYWOOD: A psychologist, Arnold! A social psychologist!

WEXELBLATT: Don't take it to heart, Pete: most engineers wouldn't know what to do with this stuff .... Up here (points to upper corner) a lot of hairy Operations Research garbage, matrix inversions ... those things down there are called Laplacians .... Hermite polynomials, elliptic harmonics.... ( Maywood blenches; Wexelblatt laughs raucously) Don't sweat it, Pete! The basic concept can be understood by a 3-year old.

MAYWOOD: That's my level. Words of one syllable, please!

WEXELBLATT: Nonsense! Just look around in today's world: what do you see? Famine! Starvation! Wars! Epidemics! Why? ( Glares at Maywood) Why ?

MAYWOOD: Got me.

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WEXELBLATT: Because of the goody-goody types who are bringing modern medicine to tribes of primitives. The predictable result? Exponential birth-rates! (Glowers) You do know what the word "exponential" means, don't you Pete ?

MAYWOOD: Sure Arnold ..er... like compound interest. ( Sudden look of suspicion) You're basically a nice guy, Arnold .. uh ..but ... do I detect a slight trace of racism in that last remark ?

WEXELBLATT: (Beams with pride ) You can call me a grey matter racist: may the most intelligent win! (Stamps his foot). Natural Selection for the technologically advanced !

MAYWOOD ( Looks around uneasily) : What worries me is that some of the customers might reach the conclusion that I agree with you... (turns back) But go on.

WEXELBLATT: There are millions of new mouths to feed in those countries ; yet their farming methods date back to the Stone Age.

MAYWOOD: (Morosely ) It's the kind of topic we discuss over coffee break down at the Rehab Center . ( Takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes. ) ...you need to concentrate on problems you can solve ...

WEXELBLATT: That's the point, Pete! It's all unnecessary! Don't you realize there's enough

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agricultural surplus in this country alone to feed the rest of the world twice over? But there's a problem

MAYWOOD: What's that ?WEXELBLATT: Most of it is left to rot in the

fields. It isn't even harvested. MAYWOOD: Granted. What's your solution? WEXELBLATT: Dump the entire American

agricultural surplus into the glaciers of the Canadian Far North! It's nature's icebox. Do the arithmetic: all the plants and animals alive today could be comfortably stored in a few cubic miles of ice!

MAYWOOD: Arnold I've lost you. Let me see if I understand .. you ..uh.. propose that we drop thousands of dead cows on Canada's glaciers from the holds of giant transport planes?

WEXELBLATT: PreciselyMAYWOOD: Wouldn't they..er.. "detonate" when

they hit the ice?WEXELBLATT: No more than this. (Picks up piece

of lox) Watch very carefully. (Wexelblatt stands up, lifts up the lox and drops it from the height of a few feet into the glass of ice water. )If Richard Feynman can do it, so can I. (Sits down again) The details are trivial. Harness 20 of those cows at a time to gigantic parachutes. Pre-freeze them. Transfer them to helicopters hovering a few feet

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above the ground. Glaciers are very stable objects. Some of them take 30 millennia to move one mile!

MAYWOOD: (Awestruck) . Arnold, I'll confess something to you: I'm amazing, meeting someone like you in the Bagel Nosh!

WEXELBLATT: Why? I like it. It's a good place. MAYWOOD: But you are so extraordinaire ! And

this place is so ..well..."humdrum". WEXELBLATT: (Grunts)MAYWOOD: Did you take your idea to the

Canadians? WEXELBLATT: Yes . It almost cost me 7 years in

jail. MAYWOOD: (Taken aback) I can't believe it!

When did all this happen?WEXELBLATT: I had a job with NASA in the late

60's. It paid well. They allowed me to do the work on my own time. Otherwise I was free to follow my fancy. This project in particular fascinated me. I sent a letter to some minister up in Ottawa ... it didn't give any details .. just mentioned the possibility of setting up a world food bank by storing perishables in Canada's glaciers.

MAYWOOD: Bureaucrats don't have much imagination. He must have thought you were nuts.

WEXELBLATT: Unfortunately not. He turned the letter over to the RCMP ... who sent it along to the FBI

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.. who opened a file on me as a suspected Canadian spy! My office was ransacked. I was fired, naturally . Why do you think they did that?

MAYWOOD: I can't imagine. WEXELBLATT: Governments want people to

starve. It's good for business. MAYWOOD: (Deep in thought. Dawdles with his

food) Don't mind me.. the Gestalt is coming. (Pause) I know! You've been blocked at every turn

WEXELBLATT: Couldn't have put it better myself. MAYWOOD: It .... Well ...WEXELBLATT: Mmmm?MAYWOOD: Boy, are we different!WEXELBLATT: Just a minute ( Returns the papers

to his briefcase. Picks up his paper plates, walks over to the garbage receptacle; drops them in. Returns and sits down again at the table ) How so?

MAYWOOD: Arnold ( With difficulty) I'm going to confess something to you ... just before I met you, I was thinking of killing myself!

WEXELBLATT: (Mumbling, embarrassed and insincere) Mmm .. sorry to hear it.

MAYWOOD: Thanks. Why should it matter to you if you don't get rich, if you never receive recognition ? You have a gift. A gift! Not like me.

WEXELBLATT: Everyone is talented in some way.

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MAYWOOD: Sure: I'm a whizz at getting financing for my schemes : municipal grants, state grants, National Institutes of Mental Health, Rockefeller Foundation, you name it . There's never much left over after salaries and expenses, so I'm always going on to the next grant.

The real problem is that my ideas are no damn good; I couldn't come up with an original idea if my life depended on it ! Can you believe it , I'm a failure, Arnold! A complete failure.

WEXELBLATT: Well; you haven't told me what you do.

MAYWOOD: My official title is "Rehabilitation Officer". Everyone just calls me the "R.O." I cover the Bowery missions, the Volunteers of America, Holy Name Society, the Municipal Shelter or "Muni", the Catholic Worker ...

WEXELBLATT: Don't know them. Should I ?MAYWOOD: No. You don't know how lucky you

are. You have heard of the Salvation Army, haven't you?

WEXELBLATT: Of course. But I've never been to one .

MAYWOOD: I interview their indigents to get them onto programs to rehabilitate them.

WEXELBLATT: Indigents? (Sneers) You mean the bums, don't you?

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MAYWOOD: (Winces) Arnold, we don't use words like "bum". (As if quoting from a textbook) "It is in the very nature of our mission that we treat every client with respect! " The worst word we can use is "derelict". That's already considered a bit strong. And we never use the word "drunk". It implies that someone is addicted to drink, which may be true, but we avoid doing anything that might tend to lower morale.

WEXELBLATT: Suit yourself.MAYWOOD: I'm another petty civil servant,

basically. I spend most of my time filling out reports. It's depressing work. The recovery rate is virtually nil. I'm just a flop!

WEXELBLATT: What else is new? You social workers intrigue me. Nobody can be made to stop drinking unless he wants to stop.

MAYWOOD: Hold it right there, Arnold. Just hold it! I've heard it a thousand times: (Mimics) " You social worker creeps do things for your clients GOOD, without ever asking them what they WANT. " Take it from me, Arnold: that is not the problem! Trust me.

WEXELBLATT: Okay, okay: you tell me. MAYWOOD: Those unfortunates - and let me tell

you, what I see really makes you want to weep - are unable to control their addiction long enough to do productive work - of any kind! I'm talking about

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simple things, like sweeping floors, collating flyers, carrying boxes. They're too wrecked to stick at anything ... I've had it! It makes me sick to my stomach. I got so depressed this evening that I came all the way uptown to this place just to get away... That reminds me: let me know when it's 10 o'clock, will you? I've got to catch a train out to Long Island. The wife, you know.

WEXELBLATT: Oh, are you married?MAYWOOD: Yes ( Removes his glasses. Suddenly

looks very weary) . Mind you, I don't blame her for anything ....

WEXELBLATT: Fine, Fine! Pete, you've gotten me onto something... you may have catalyzed another brainstorm! Nor for the first time has someone like you delivered me over to some new madness! There's a sort of bug going round my brain...

MAYWOOD: Arnold , I'm desperate ... And with your mind! I'll leave you alone. I've got to take a leak ... ( Stands up and walks to the Men's Room.)

Wexelblatt extracts a legal-sized pad of yellow paper and

begins rapidly crawling designs and diagrams over its pages. A

passing waiter tries to remove the leavings from Maywood's

dinner. Wexelblatt stops him.

WEXELBLATT: That's all right . He's coming back . (Waiter leaves. He continues working. Suddenly he jumps up out of his chair: the brainstorm has

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struck!) Take a leak?? ( Looks in the direction that Maywood went, then stares back at his notes) PISSING !! (People all around the restaurant react with indignation ) That's the connection! That's brilliant! (Self-infatuated. Settles back into his chair and reads over his notes. Takes a Hewlett-Packard calculator from his briefcase and busies himself with calculations.

Maywood returns from the Men's Room to his seat.

WEXELBLATT: It's going to work !! ( Notices Maywood) Oh, good. You're back. Peter, let me ask you something. ( Maywood nods dumbly. Wexelblatt rummages through the pages on the table, unearths the one he's been looking for.) Here it is. Yes, that's it ( Looks at Maywood) Pete ... don't laugh, this is important ... Drunks piss a lot, don't they ?

MAYWOOD: (Thoroughly shocked, replies with a nervous laugh). Arnold, if I were ever caught saying what you've just said - even once ! - I'd be out of a job ... like that ! Like that! (Snaps his fingers)

WEXELBLATT: (Exasperated) You haven't answered my question. Is it not indeed the case , that many many gallons of piss pass daily through the privies of those Bowery Missions?

MAYWOOD: (Nervous and fidgety, like a prude confronted with the photograph of a naked woman) .

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Keep your voice down ! It is ... ah ... not to be denied that... uh .. "indigent" men .. and some women as well ... who .. through some "unfortunate childhood experiences" ... consume excessive quantities of alcohol ..will ...over time ... perform the functions of "elimination" - ah - rather more than the rest of us... So?

WEXELBLATT: (Scrambles through his notes, fishes out another page) ... Stop me if I'm becoming too technical ... Biogas conversion from shit...

MAYWOOD: (Blushes) ... Must you?WEXELBLATT: (Ignoring him) ... Why not

generate electricity from piss ? ! ( Hands page to Maywood). This is a sketch for a cheap method for converting urea to methane .

MAYWOOD: Methane ? WEXELBLATT: Methane's one of those cornball

"appropriate technology" stand-bys. You'll find articles in those "Back to Mother Nature" rags that explain to their readers how they can be listening to Peter, Paul and Mary songs on the crapper while they generate the power to run the record player ... You don't get it yet, do you? (Maywood shakes his head) . most people don't shit and piss enough to run an electric toothbrush ... (Shouts) But drunks are pissing all the time !! ( People seated at the other tables turn towards him with indignant stares) Your Skid Row

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bums could be generating enough juice to run all of god-damned New York City !! (Waiter rushes over to their table)

WAITER: Gentlemen, you must both go at once! WEXELBLATT: Get lost, buster! I'm explaining

something to my friend here!MAYWOOD: Let's get out of here , Arnold. There's

a place on 72nd Street where we can talk ... but I still don't understand ... what does this stuff have to do with me?

WAITER: I said, you must both leave immediately!WEXELBLATT: Scram !! It's simple. ( Waiter

stalks off) Your drunks don't have to reform. Let them drink as much as they want. Let them sit around all day, smashed! They can still be doing productive work. ( Maywood is beginning to see the picture. Wexelblatt shouts) Making electricity !! ( Finishing the last of his orange juice ) Having their booze ... and drinking it, too !!

MAYWOOD: ( Stunned. He has understood. ) You mean they don't have to stop drinking ??

WEXELBLATT: No! Drinking is, in itself, their work!

MAYWOOD: (Jumping up with glee) EUREKA, ARNOLD!! YOU'VE DONE IT!!

WEXELBLATT: And there's lots of money to be made . Don't forget that

#24...

MAYWOOD: I don't have to commit suicide ! WEXELBLATT: And I don't have to murder my

boss !!Several WAITERS race in from the kitchen . They seize the

two men bodily and start to force them towards the exit.

MAYWOOD: Come to my office, tomorrow morning !!

WEXELBLATT: What time ? Look, meathead, that's my briefcase would you mind? There's years of work in there.

The waiter referred to as "meathead" picks up the

briefcase together with the papers covering their table and

hurls everything out onto the street.

WEXELBLATT: You dirty bastard! ( Takes a swing at the waiter. The others attack Wexelblatt , fists flying.)

MAYWOOD: Hey ! Watch what you're doing to my friend ! He attacks one of the waiters. Everybody

disappears out the door , fighting. Noises of swearing, blows,

pain.

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssAct I , Scene 2

" Mission of the Holy Breath"A Mission on the Bowery, Lower East Side, New York

City Evening, several weeks later.

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A large room which serves as both dining-room and

chapel. A pair of rows of low benches extends along the back

wall from the left of the stage to the center. This leaves ample

room for the entrances and exits of a crowd of derelicts and

their soup lines.

At the far left wall stand a pair of high, paneled, very

worn wooden doors, the ENTRANCE. In the space between

them and the ceiling hangs an embarrassingly large wooden

( or plastic) cross.

Everything is shabby, neglected, worn, in need of paint.

Staging and decor convey the sense of an environment redolent

of odors of unwashed bodies and bad soup.

Above the benches hang two large framed pictures.

Between the two pictures hangs an electric clock. Its hands

register ten minutes to five. The picture on the left is an

enlarged photograph of the deceased founder of the mission

( very righteous and 19th century). The one on the right is a

sentimental painting in horrible taste depicting Christ handing

out the loaves and fishes. Below the pictures and clock hangs a

large sign:

MISSION OF THE HOLY BREATHBelow On the wall below the sign is pasted a notice, large

letters on faded yellow paper:

#26...

No One Will Be Served Without A Ticket

At center stage to the right stands a there is a high

PULPIT. A entrance on the right back wall closer to the front

will allow for the passage of the dollies carrying the cauldrons

of hot soup, bowls, spoons, etc.

Above the pulpit hangs a cord tied to the clapper of a bell.

There are flag poles and flags on each side of the pulpit. One of

them is a United States flag. The other is the standard of the

religious order to which the mission belongs.

ENTER: from the kitchen doors to the right: The Minister

( REVEREND JONAS BEAN) and a Security Guard (JASON) .

Jason is Afro-American. Reverend Bean is bovine, clean shaven,

callow, crew cut. There is an unmistakable air combining

bigotry, self-righteousness and basic greed about him.

From the belts of each of them dangles a big collection of

keys. Jason's belt also holds a club in its holster. In his hands he

holds a boom-box tape recorder. Reverend Bean holds a Bible in

one hand and several tapes in the other. (These of course could

also be CD's) BEAN (Sighs ): Another day, another dollar...

Eh, Jason?JASON : That's the American Way, sir!

#27...

They deposit the items they've been carrying on a table

near the pulpit. Bean gets down on all fours to search for the

outlet for the extension cord to the tape recorder:

BEAN : Right on target, Jason; best damn country in the whole world! ( Catches himself. kneels ) May the good Lord excuse my language. (Stands up and crosses himself) Hand me the tape recorder, will you? ( He gets down again, insets its plug into an outlet. Stands up, faces Jason)

Jason, there is no excuse for any man being a bum! Are you of the same mind as I, Jason?

JASON: Reverend Bean, you knows I always of the same mind as you!

BEAN: Amen, Jason! Amen! I have always considered you one of the Elect. The Elect! These ..well ... "wretches" ( indicates the empty rows of benches) are the scum of God's Creation. They are spiritual lepers. Most of them will be damned, Jason! Damned to all eternity ! (Rhetorically) I ask you, Jason: Why ? Why? ( Falls to musing) Why have I devoted my days , why am I living a life of unremitting toil for the welfare of such men and women, beings without dignity, scarcely entitled to be called "human beings "? Why, Jason : why ?

JASON : Could it be .. uh .. "Love"? Reverend Bean?

#28...

BEAN (Nods approvingly) : "Love" did you say? Yes, of course. It is "love" ... Christian love ; which in this Bible is called charity .

Charity indeed ... "charity" is not enough! It does not suffice to explain why I have adopted a life of sacrifice in the service of these depraved, undeserving dregs! Jason, Do you want to know?

JASON: Nothin' could give me greater joy, sir!BEAN: It is because I know that if, over these

decades of my ministry I have saved but a single soul from the horrors of hellfire , then GREAT UNTO EVERLASTING ETERNITY WILL BE MY REWARD IN HEAVEN !

JASON: My!! ..... Sir !!!BEAN: I am not exaggerating Jason, Why, just

yesterday ... ( Glances up at the clock, which now registers 5 PM) . It's time to begin.

Reverend Bean inserts a tape into the tape recorder.

Turns it on. The strains of "Onward Christian Soldiers" ( or

some equally appropriate hymn) fill the room. Jason walks to

the entrance doors. Stands at attention. He has removed the

club and holds it loosely in his right hand.

Reverend Bean mounts the pulpit and clangs the bell.

BEAN: All right Jason; go ahead. (Jason opens the door)

#29...

ENTER an incredible deluge of humanity, motley and

squalid. Most are men , with some women. Almost all of them

are alcoholics, though some are living in destitution on the

Bowery from a variety of causes. Among those entering are

several characters who will play roles in this or later scenes:

FROG, ESTHER, JUAN , DAN , BERNICE , ARTHUR , KEVIN ,

and FRED.

FROG's baggy trousers are attached by a rags and pieces

of string. His fly has no button and his penis hangs out. He

keeps trying to stuff it inside but to no avail.

ESTHER is a shopping-bag lady. She is making a great

effort to lug inside a supermarket cart piled up with bundles of

rags and other items.

JASON: Move along! No standing! Hey you there, sit down! ( He drags someone and shoves him onto a bench.) Keep moving! Keep moving! ( Now he notices Esther and her shopping cart. ) ESTHER! You knows you can't do that! ( He runs over to her) You gots to leave your stuff outta the door!

ESTHER: ( Tussles with him. Refuses to relinquish the cart. High pitched voice ) :You let go of me! Unhand me, you ruffian! My uncle is an important man! He's a politician! Nobody's allowed to steal my merchandise!

JASON : (Wacks her hands with his club, forcing her to release her grip.) Lady, that thing gotta go!

#30...

ESTHER: (Fights back, tries to strike him.) Ow! You leggo of me! You're a beast! A beast! You must be one of them ! I knew it, the minute I lay eyes on you! Listen, everybody! I want you all to be my witnesses that this beast is practicing assault and battery on me !

Jason plants a foot on the front of the supermarket cart

and boots it out the door. We hear it totter down the street,

then crash.

JASON: Now there ain't gonna be no more trouble with that thing! One more squawk outta' you, Esther, and you don't eats! Okay! Everybody move along! Move along I say! Hey! You there! Get back in line! Move along! ( Jason returns to his station by the door)

More incredibly dressed Bowery types enter . Among them

is SKI-CAP, an emaciated, stoop-shouldered man wearing a

black rain-coat. a ski-cap holding skin-diver's goggles,

decorated with slogan pins. His shoes are a few sizes too big

for him. As he drags himself across the floor, a half-emptied

bottle of whiskey falls out of his pocket and clatters to the floor.

JASON: Hey! You there! Ski-Cap! ( Jason pushes his way through the throng of derelicts, grabs Ski-Cap by the collar and back to the entrance doors.) You gotta go! Out!

SKI-CAP: Ow! Ledgo'ah me ! I didn' do nothin'!JASON: Ski-Cap! You knows we don't allow no

drinkin' in the House of the Lord!

#31...

SKI-CAP: Ledgo'ah me! That ain't no bottle what fall'outah my pocket!

(Jason picks it up off the floor and confronts him with it.)

JASON: No? Then, whadah you call this? SKI-CAP: All right, so maybe it is a bottle...but it

ain't mine! It's ..(Points at someone at random) HIM! That's his bottle!

JASON: ( Roughly ejects him from the door) No soup for you today, Ski-Cap! ( He returns, addresses the others) All'uh rest'uh you's gots ta SIT DOWN!!

(While Jason patrols the rows of benches, a few others enter in. One of them is FRED. A young man with a sickly mien. He is in better shape than the others, and has had some education.)

JASON: What I says goes for all of YOU! Drink in thuh House of the Lord is BLASPHEMY! ( As he speaks, SKI-CAP surreptitiously sneaks back in through the door and takes a seat in a back bench where he won't be noticed. ) You there ...go on, sit down! .. SIT DOWN! ... You all gotta hear the Preacher , else you don't gets nothin' to eat! ... Hey ( Notices someone ) You ain't supposed to be here! Get along! Get out! ( Jason reaches into the crowd, pulls out someone who's been banned, prods him out the door.)

#32...

After much shuffling about and commotion, the

CONGREGATION is finally seated and relatively subdued.

Reverend Bean turns off the recording machine and mounts

the pulpit. He commands attention by ringing the BELL. When

there is complete silence in the room he begins speaking :

BEAN : Peace, unwashed lambs ! For the benefit of newcomers ... There appear to be only a small number of these, praise the Lord ... For The Lord Is A Being Of Infinite Mercy ... I remind you all that alcoholic beverages of any kind are prohibited in these precincts. If even an empty flagon of the demon rum is found anywhere on your person, you will be forced to leave. Three offenses mean permanent expulsion from our community !

There are two conditions which you must satisfy before partaking of our holy bread:

One : You must have a ticket! Tickets are given out in the line-up along the sidewalk one hour before opening time.

Two : You must attend this sermon! ( Pause ) That just about does it.

Bean shapes up his notes, straightens his jacket, collar

and necktie, slicks his hair, etc. Grasping the pulpit with both

hands he launches into the sermon:

Blessed children ! The text for today's holy lesson is taken from Matthew 4: 4 (Reads and intones ) Man

#33...

... does not live .. by Bread .. Alone ! ..But .. by every word ! ..which cometh out ... of the Mouth Of God !!

These words are difficult to understand ... they bespeak much anguish of soul ! They are not to be taken lightly! They are deep, they are thorny ... Thorny !! .. ..like the crown laid up the head of the Lord .. for the redemption of Mankind !! (Kneels, cries out) :"Is it I? " so cried our Lord at Gethsemane ... "Father, is it I? Must I drink the cup?"

Bean stands up, brushes off dust. Pauses to wipe his

brow, as if he were personally experiencing the agony of the

crown of thorns. Since beginning his sermon, whiskey

bottles have been appearing above the heads of the

congregation, passed back and forth unnoticed by either Bean

or Jason.

BEAN: Hearken closely unto me my little ones. Verily I say to you that Man ! does not live ! By bread ! Alone ! Meditate upon this teaching so that you will understand why your refuge, the Mission of the Holy Breath requires you to first consume the spiritual nutriment of God's Holy Word before partaking of its so generously bestowed Soup ! I say unto you, be of great patience: for it shall be yours in a moment nigh.

FIRST BUM: Don't fart in my face!

#34...

SECOND BUM: (Directly in front of him.) You ain't talkin' to me, is you ?

FIRST BUM: Yes! You! You done farted right in my face!

THIRD BUM: ( At another place in the congregation) Shaddup you two shitheads! We're listenin' to the preacher!

Jason reaches into the congregation and pulls out First

Bum. Prodding him in the butt with his nightstick he hustles

him out the door. Reverend Bean clangs the bell

BEAN : SILENCE! SILENCE! SILENCE! (A measure of silence is restored. Somewhat stiffly Bean picks up from where he left off.)

As I was about to say: You must all have asked yourselves at one time or another ... stumbling to our Mission through the back alleys ... walking out of some notorious den of booze ... freezing to death on these cold streets , without a friend to your name .. this question; surely you must have thought: " Soup's what I need! Not a sermon! Why does the Mission of the Holy Breath force me listen to a sermon before giving me my soup! "

You might even have thought that we would be better Christians to quell the rumblings of your bellies immediately! Isn't that so? ( An alcoholic sitting the near end of a bench collapses into aisle ).

#35...

Oh pitiable lambs!! Our answer is simple : NO! NO! NO!!!

Jason enlists the help of the others to carry the sprawling

derelict out the doors. While the sermon continues, Jason

returns with a mop and bucket to clean up the mess he's left .

BEAN (Shouting): Man Does Not Live By Bread - Alone ! It was our very own Lord who uttered these self-same words at the moment that he brake the divine wafer at the Last Supper ! ( Fred stands up, looking somewhat mystified at Bean's apparent deficiency in Biblical scholarship. Sits down again. ) Forsooth !! It was to His disciples that He spake these precious words . Every one of them - save the betrayer Judas , cursed of mankind (an anguished pause) - was a saint! As far above the run of common men as an eagle is to a flea ! How much more, then, above Ye , my strayed cattle , who scarcely merit the protection of the human community! Ye who have rotted your souls with stinking drink! Ye, who must be compelled , by the tempting lure of food , to enter the Tabernacle of the Most High! Can ye, the lowliest of the low, continue to deny that your first necessity is the Body and Blood of Christ!!

Esther pushes one of the drunks off the bench. His bottle

crashes to the floor. On the instant, all the other bottles that

have been going the rounds over the heads of the congregation

disappear:

#36...

BEAN: See! See! Alcohol! Hootch! Your souls are poisoned with the poison of your bodies! Ye are damned, indeed. Damned Beyond Redemption !

Jason drags the man out the door, once more returns with

bucket and mop to clean up .

BEAN: (Sweating heavily. Wipes his brow) : Forgive me : I should have said "almost " beyond redemption. Ye are not "beyond redemption", For, There Is the Miracle of Hope ! Verily I say unto you, there is not one creature in All God's Creation , be it murderer, lecher, robber, filthy bum ... who is beyond the outstretched arms and divine mercy of the all-compassionate Lord and Savior, King Jesus Christ !! (Bean stretches his arms wide and intones):

" Come unto Me, All Ye who are Heavily Laden, and I will Give You Rest !! " Let us pray.

Bean, Jason and the Congregation bow down their heads in silent prayer . One still hears the noises of wheezing, sniffling and guzzling. Bean raises up his head. ) AMEN !!

CONGREGATION: AMEN!! Bean clangs the bell. Through the kitchen doors to the

right of the stage come two metal carts being pushed by two

stocky CHEFS. Each cart holds a great metal cauldron

steaming with hot soup, a long ladle , soup spoons, several

dozen bowls and trays with slices of bread. The cart is placed at

#37...

right angles to the rows of benches. Each chef takes up a

station behind it, holding a ladle.

BEAN: Please line up in double file. Don't poke your neighbor in the ribs. Seconds, if there are any, will be announced.

As he is speaking the derelicts create two lines, one

before each of the chefs. In the outer line stands FROG .

JASON: (Pointing to Frog's fly). Frog! You close that up! Now!

Frog covers his opened fly with his hands and stands in a

hunched over position. The chefs mechanically ladle soup into

the bowls and the crowd moves along. Reverend Bean is pre-

occupied with packing up his Bible, the tape recorder, etc. At

some point he leaves.

Before one of the carts stands an old derelict. His hands

are trembling so much that he slops the soup over himself and

onto the floor.

FIRST CHEF: Watch yer'self y'old boozer!!SECOND CHEF: Ain't you what cleans up the

mess!FIRST CHEF: Betcha he ain't even hungry... Hey!!

You!! ( Indicates another ,more sober person in the line) Take his bowl and carry it to the bench! ( He does so)

ENTER: PETER MAYWOOD and ARNOLD WEXELBLATT.

Accompanying them are Maywood's wife, CLAIR MAYWOOD ,

and Wexelblatt's girl-friend BETH CUNNINGHAM. Everyone is

#38...

carrying some kind of briefcase, files, clip-board, notebook, etc.

The men are wearing suits and ties, the women are also

professionally dressed.

SECOND CHEF: Don't waste out soup! Ye're gettin' it for nothin'.

FIRST CHEF: Bums don't got no gratitude.SECOND CHEF: Dey eats here for nothin'. Den dey

go spends dere money on booze! FIRST CHEF: Sure. Some of dem is loaded wid

money! Dey got government checks! Hey!! Yes -you! Get outta dah line! We ain't done giving out de firsts yet!

Jason approaches the newcomers.

JASON ; (Addresses Clair) Hello, M'am. (Turns to Maywood). Hello, sir. We didn't expects the Rehabilitation Officer this evening. We didn't know you was comin', sir.

MAYWOOD: We're working on something new, Jason. Jason I'd like you to meet my friends. You know my wife, Clair. ( They shake hands) And these are some new members of our team .. Mr. Wexelblatt ( shakes hands), and Miss Cunningham ... (Pause) Do you think we'll be able to interview some of these people tonight?

JASON: They ain't gots nowhere to go , sir. MAYWOOD: Let's get started right away. Thanks

for your help (Jason walks off). Arnold ..what do you

#39...

think? ... This man ..( indicates Frog, sitting on a bench, his fly open, eating his soup. ) I'll deal with him. It might work. Why don 't you go over to that group sitting in the corner? Clair, maybe you should talk to ... (looks in the direction of Esther).. well, she is a strange creature, isn't she?

CLAIR: She reminds me of my aunt in Detroit. BETH : (Walks over to the benches. ) I'll make

myself useful. ( Sits down and starts talking to some one.)

The soup lines have broken up. The derelicts sit about the room or lean against the walls, slopping their soup. On the benches sits an old man , DUTCH. He gives off a thick aroma of filth and fleas. Maywood approaches Frog. In his typically finicky manner, making a big too-doo of being repelled by the odor, Wexelblatt sits down in front of Dutch. Clair approaches Esther.)

CLAIR: How do you do? My name is Clair. What's your name?

ESTHER: How do I do? How do you do? Who sent you here to investigate me?

CLAIR: Why .. Nobody sent me. I'm here with my husband. You must know him, he's the R.O.

ESTHER: What did you say? CLAIR: (Shouts as if dealing with a deaf person)

The Rehabilitation Officer !

#40...

ESTHER: ( Continues to stare at Clair intently) If you've got a husband, why are you coming to me? I'm not a body guard!

CLAIR: (taken aback) Oh, I just wanted to chat. ESTHER: Didn't I already meet you somewhere?

Yes, I remember, you were the person standing in the subway, with that child molester!

CLAIR: I don't think I know anyone like that. You must be mistaking me for someone else.

ESTHER: Yes it was you all right! I never forget a face! Let me tell you, miss, I've had bad experiences with strange men! Yes, I've never met a single one I could trust! ( Whispers) And do you know why? Ten years ago, a man tried to murder me! And he was a complete stranger!

CLAIR: ( Trying to extricate herself) Lady, I really have to go... (Starts to stand up. Esther grabs her sleeve and pulls her back down.)

ESTHER: Don't interrupt! Don't you ever interrupt me! And for your information, I'm not a lady! I was married before you were born! When you get to be as old as I am then you can interrupt! I'm telling you - there was this lunatic in Central Park that tried to murder me! Right in Central Park!

It happened many years ago. He thought I was somebody else , because he said that he'd been waiting for me for over an hour. And before he

#41...

attacked me he tried to sell me a cemetery plot! Wouldn't that make you suspicious? Selling me a cemetery plot just to murder me! Why do I need a cemetery plot, when my family has a big estate right in West Chester county? Wouldn't you find that strange ?

Beth has been observing this exchange and walks over to

join them.

BETH: Clair, this needs the direct approach She opens up and reaches inside her pocketbook. Extracts

a small hip flask bottle of Scotch which she shields from the

eyes of Jason and others.

ESTHER: That's how I learned, never trust a stranger! He didn't even look like a human being! He looked like some creature , from another planet! That man was just about to pull a knife me when I ran away! The knife was this big... ( Starts to convey a picture of the length of the knife with her hands. Notices the bottle of Scotch.) What's that ?

CLAIR: It's yours if you want it.ESTHER: Yes. Give it to me. ( Reaches for the

bottle. Clair holds it away from her.MARY-BETH: I can't give it to you here. You'll

have to go with me outside. (Esther looks dubious.) There's more where this came from.

ESTHER: Well, okay. But only if you promise me that somebody you know isn't out there waiting to murder me! Or make a slave of me! Which is worse.

#42...

CLAIR: Word of honor. ( Starts to walk towards the door. Motions to Beth) Come with us.

Esther stands out and goes out the door with them. In a

few minutes Mary-Beth returns and begins talking to Fred.

Arnold Wexelblatt has had all that he can stand of Dutch. He

stands up and walks over to Peter Maywood.

WEXELBLATT: Whew! I've had all I can take of that old geezer!

MAYWOOD: What's the problem?WEXELBLATT: Try standing 6 feet away from

him.MAYWOOD: I don't notice things like that

anymore. Once we get them into the factory we can make them take a bath every day... ( Indicates Frog) The 'wounded psyche' of this poor devil may have been too , er, 'challenged' for our purposes. I couldn't get a coherent statement out of him.

WEXELBLATT: That could be just what we're looking for.

MAYWOOD: PossiblyBeth walks over to join them.

BETH: Arnold, we may have something important here. ( She waves to Fred, who walks over to join them and sits down on a bench.) Fred, I'd like you to meet my friends. This is Arnold. ( Shakes hands) This is Peter (Shakes hands) .

#43...

FRED: We've met before: you're the R.O. Is he your assistant? (Indicates Wexelblatt) BETH: Not exactly, Fred. Arnold is an inventor , just like yourself! (Fred's enthusiasm is kindled)

FRED: Sounds exciting. WEXELBLATT : You invent things too, do you? FRED: Sort of. I worked on a few ideas in my

spare time. When I was a chemistry major at Adelphi College.

WEXELBLATT: (Genuinely interested) How long ago was that?

FRED: (Trying to remember) .. About 7 years I would guess . WEXELBLATT: What do you remember about it? You see, Fred, we're starting up a business. That's the most I can tell you right now.We're going to need a few intelligent people around, people like yourself, with ideas.

FRED: (Beams with pride. ) Thank you, sir! Mr. ..uh?

WEXELBLATT: Wexelblatt. Arnold Wexelblatt (Shakes hands again)

FRED: ( Bursts into sobs.) Nobody's talked to me like that for years! Why should they? I'm washed up!

WEXELBLATT: Nonsense, man! How old are you?FRED: Only 28. You don't understand: nothing can

get me off the bottle; I'm not even 30, and already I got me a liver condition!

#44...

(Continues crying. Hides face from shame) WEXELBLATT: There's nothing get upset about,

Fred.BETH: (Puts arm around shoulders) Listen to him;

we're here to help people like you. WEXELBLATT: I'd like to learn a little more

about your background.FRED: I was pre-med at Adelphi College. That's on

Staten Island. (Sniffles ) I got fucked up over this girl! ..Sue ..(Notices Clair ). Oh, I'm sorry m'am; down here you forget how to speak properly.

CLAIR: Do you still communicate with her? (Beth makes a sign to her, to avoid the subject. Fred shakes his head.)

FRED: No. I don't know what happened to her. (Bawls ) I don't care! She ruined my life, that's what she did , ruined my life ! (Doubles up in pain) Leave me alone! Can't you see I'm worthless? Jesus Christ, you can't even tell a burnt-out case when you see one! Come'on! Give me a bottle! That's what I need! More Sneaky Pete!

WEXELBLATT: (Ignores outburst) You said that you were working on some original ideas. In chemistry?

FRED (Nods, pulls himself together somewhat) : I was working with chemical dyes. Stronger and faster,

#45...

at no extra cost... My chemistry professor encouraged me... that's all gone now.

WEXELBLATT: Never throw away an idea . What happened to your research notes?

FRED: Aw; all that stuff from school is up in the attic at Mom's place. Dad died ..( Tears are flowing copiously) I've stayed away from home for 3 years ..She'd die with shame to learn where I'm living .

MAYWOOD: Did you graduate?FRED: ( Bawls) No ... Damn it! I fucked up, like I

was telling you! I had a nervous breakdown! (Whines) Dad always said I wasn't man enough to take it! After the hospital I drifted around for awhile. I just sort'of fell into drinking. The alcoholic lifestyle agrees with me (Reflects) My guess is I'll be dead by 30. (Cries)

BETH: Fred! Snap out of it! We're here to offer you what you need: a man's job at a man's wage! ( Whispers to Wexelblatt) Do you intend to keep him drunk all the time?

WEXELBLATT: Somehow doesn't seem right , does it? MAYWOOD: Agreed. We'll wean him from the common herd. He's not hard core: I've had some success in that area.

WEXELBLATT: We're going to need someone to police the operation.

BETH: (Sits down next to Fred. Puts an arm around him). Everything's going to be all right, Fred.

#46...

(Hugs him like a big momma ) You'll see. We'll take good care of you. (Dries his tears with a handkerchief)

JASON: ( Strides across the room over to them) I wouldn't do that. M'am! Them men all got lice and fleas! And worse'n that!

BETH: ( Indignant) Excuse me, friend : whatever happened to "Love thy neighbor"?

JASON: Sure. I believes in that! But God don't help nobody what don't helps themselves. If you ain't afraid o'bein' covered with cooties and bugs and all that, you just go ahead doin' what you're doin' !

BETH: (hugs Fred ever more tightly): I know my duty as a Christian, thank you very much !

WEXELBLATT: (Irritated) Honey, cut the crap!JASON: I's a Christian, sure enough, m'am. I goes

to Sunday school when I's little.MARY BETH: Did they teach you that Christ

didn't care if people were dirty? JASON: Well, if I heard it right, m'am, cleanliness

is up there right next to God! I just warnin' you. That's my idea of doin' my duty.

MARY BETH (Somewhat mollified) : Thank you kindly, sir. I appreciate where this organization is coming from.

RE-ENTER Esther and Clair. Esther is crocked to the gills.

CLAIR: Hurray! She's volunteered!

#47...

MAYWOOD: Shh! Clair, keep your voice down. ( Points towards Jason)

ESTHER: ( Singing, talking in a wild manner.) Somebody's cheated me! But it's too late! It's too late! I sold my soul! I guess I'll just have to drink myself to death!

MAYWOOD: ( Consults his watch) Time to go. I'll bring the van around to the front.

WEXELBLATT: Won't that look suspicious? MAYWOOD: Nop. Everything's on the up-and-up:

The van's been requisitioned from Municipal Social Services. Very convenient, don't you agree? (A sigh of contentment) Oh boy! There's nothing like role-playing to charge up the catharsis! Arnold, let me recommend psychodrama to you. Act out your frustrations; role-play your fantasies! Tell yourself "I can do it!" And - Presto! (Snaps fingers) It's as easy as that. ( Looks around; notices Dutch)Hey Arnold: collect that old flea-bag, will you?

Esther breaks into loud singing.

CLAIR: Quiet down, Esther! It's time to go .Beth, help me get her through the door.

WEXELBLATT: (Pointing) What about that bum over there in the corner?

MAYWOOD ( Winces) Arnold. Do not call them bums ! These men .... and some women ... are not bums ! From now on they are "employees",

#48...

"associates", call them what you like. They have respectable jobs. Bums , Arnold, do not work !!

WEXELBLATT: Does a bear shit in the woods? Have it your way, Pete. Let's get out of here.

ESTHER: ( Being led away): I sold my soul! I sold it into slavery! I'll being taken to a house of ill-repute! All right, all right! Go ahead! I'm willing! I've made my peace.

EXEUNT ( In baroque style; think of the grand exit at the

end of The Cherry Orchard ) : Esther, Clair, Mary Beth, Fred,

Wexelblatt, Maywood, Dutch, Frog.)

1st Chef: (Loud voice) Dere's seconds for dose what wants dem.

The clients remaining in the room once again form two

lines moving towards the chefs and cauldrons of soup. This

motion forms a counterpoint in contrary motion against the

activities of Wexelblatt, Maywood, Beth, Clair and their new

employees as they leave the soup kitchen.

Jason notices a derelict still sitting on a bench.

JASON: Hey! You! Yes, you! You ain't gonna just sit around! You gots to help me get this place cleaned up! You gots to earn your keep here, like'm the rest of us!

End Of Act IAct II.

Scene 1

#49...

Outskirts of East Hampton, Long Island

The Electricity Utility Plant.A work site with associated machinery and

personnel, the ASSEMBLY LINE extends the full length of the back wall. Its various components are enclosed behind a fence of iron bars which gives it the appearance of a prison cell block or cage . At the left end of this fence is a metal door with lock.

From a hole cut into the left wall inside the Assembly Line , a MECHANICAL ARM thrusts a BEER-FILLED MUG onto a ZINC COUNTER. The counter runs parallel to the wall to about halfway across the stage. It resembles the counter of a neighborhood bar.

After a worker walks over to the counter and picks up the mug, the arm recoils back inside the wall, returning a few minutes later with another filled mug.

On the floor, starting from the right edge of the counter and extending half-way or more across the stage is a TREADMILL constructed from wood, rubber, metal or a combination of them. The alcoholics must walk on the planks of this treadmill as they go to and fro to the zinc counter to pick up their filled mugs. Mug in hand, they walk part way across the stage, step off the treadmill and climb onto a

#50...

BLEACHER of several levels where they can sit and drink.

Whenever one of the alcoholics feels the need to piss he or she walks the full length of the treadmill to the right. The act of walking across the treads generates a small amount of electricity, enough to keep the light bulbs of tiny wattage that illuminate the assembly line cage blinking.

The treadmill ends in a STAIRCASE . At the top of the staircase is a PLATFORM , shielded from the audience by a TRANSLUCENT SCREEN. Thus the actors will not be seen pissing into the bubbling VATS of the generator. The audience may perhaps hear the sounds of this activity, and their silhouettes may be rendered visible through the translucent screen.

Adjacent to the vats which receive the urine stands a turbine or generator, covered with tubes, gauges, rubber hoses, gauges, wires, valves, knobs., etc. This is the complex apparatus that cracks the uric acid molecule to creates electricity, a secret technology invented by Arnold Wexelblatt.

When the alcoholic-employee has finished pissing, he/she can walk down a SECOND STAIRCASE partially hidden to the right, then along the back wall to the treadmill, the zinc counter and another mug of beer.

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Doors on the left and right walls, provide entrances both into the assembly line and into the PLANT, the area covering the rest of the stage . The left wall from the exterior of the assembly line to the front of the stage is covered with monitors, meters, wires, oscilloscopes, flashing lights.

At approximately center stage, Arnold Wexelblatt is seated in a behind a console holding several computer monitors, a desk, telephone, fax, etc. He eagerly pushes buttons, lifts and lowers switches, scratches out calculations. He appears agitated, not too happy with the way things are going.

To the right, part way between Wexelblatt's desk and the right wall, is the desk of Peter Maywood. On it are piles of ledgers, papers, bills. He is busily at work, examining the ledgers and entering figures into them.

8 alcoholics are inside the Assembly Line when the curtain rises: : ESTHER, SKI-CAP , ARTHUR, FROG , JUAN ( A consumptive Hispanic. His racking cough is distressing to listen to .) KEVIN ( A textbook Irish Catholic alcoholic) , DUTCH ( old man with a heavy limp), and BERNICE, ( a worn out woman in her mid-40's ) .

They are arranged as follows: ESTHER is at the far left picking up a new mug of

beer from the mechanical arm. Upon receiving it she

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moves over to the bleachers, climbs onto them, its down and begins drinking.

ARTHUR stands just in back of Esther. After she's gotten her mug of beer and left, he steps forward and reaches out for his.

BERNICE is at the foot of the steps up to the lavatory to the right. Behind her stands FROG, waiting his turn after her.

DUTCH is inside the lavatory. We can hear him pissing. ( In a bold production , one could perhaps show the trickle of urine as it falls through the air into the tank.)

After doing his business, Dutch climbs down the stairs at the other end, while Bernice starts the climb upward.

JUAN appears from behind the lavatory, walks onto the treadmill towards the zinc counter. KEVIN is sitting on the benches. After a moment he stands up and walks to the zinc counter.

SKI-CAP is stretched out unconscious across the bleachers.

As each worker urinates, the lights flashing on Wexelblatt's console indicate the connection between their activity and the operation of the plant.

ARTHUR has gone to the bleacher. As Esther stands up to go to the lavatory, he begins to drink his

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beer. Spits it out in disgust. Jumps across the planks of the treadmill, grabs the bars of the cage and roars:

ARTHUR: Pigs! Beer! Day in and day out! Mornin' and night! Nothin' but BEER! I need Booze, you mother-fuckers! Whiskey! Scotch! You ain't nothin' but a lot of pigs! WHISKEY, D'YA HEAR? ( Rattles the bar. Delirious with anger )

WEXELBLATT: Shut up Arthur! You don't piss enough on wine! Anyway it's too expensive, in this philistine country.

MAYWOOD: Look at it this way, Arthur: isn't beer, as much as you want , when you want it, better than having to beg, better than going hungry, better than lying face down in the gutter and freezing to death?

DUTCH: ( Crosses the treadmill. Old and consumptive. All effort is painful to him. Pants heavily, coughs and wheezes. ) You can't reason with an old boozehound. It's Southern Comfort done it : rotted his brains, his liver, his guts - even his nuts! Y'ask me, we got it good here. Food ..work ... hootch ... beer's good enough for me.. ( Dutch reaches the far end of the treadle and collapses on the platform right in front of the zinc counter. Pulls himself up to an erect posture and picks up another mug of beer. )

ARTHUR: (Rattles the bars of the cage.) I need some booze, dogs! You got me caged up like a wild

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animal, and I gotsta drink BEER! You ain't shit! You ain't never been nothin' but shit! You ain't never gonna be nothing' but shit! Whiskey, you dirty dogs !

KEVIN: ( Sitting on the bleachers, finishing up his beer . Addresses Arthur) : Shut your toothless trap, you rotten bedbug!! This stuff ain't Guinness, that's for sure, nor Heineken, or Cour'vwazyay' brandy-of-Napoleon neither! Hell if it ain't better'n nothin'! Hey! You! Axelblot! Why don't you send dis sleazebag back to Skid Row?

(WEXELBLATT ignores him, works at the switches on the console.)

JUAN: ( Picks up another mug from the mechanical arm. On a spontaneous impulse he dashes it against the bars of the cage. Yells) Why no we not have wine??? Cabrones !!! I am seek with this beer! Seek, like a dog with wormses! Sheet ! I need wine !!

ARTHUR: You heard the man! Wine! Wine's better'n beer! Even Dego Red's better'n beer! We ain't animals! You can stick dis fucken beer up your fucken ass! (Arthur grabs a beer mug, breaks it. Picks up a sliver of glass which he brandishes like a weapon.) I gets my whiskey, or I slits some throats around here!!

WEXELBLATT: ( Hesitating no longer) Fred !! Crisis Management ! On the double ! Jesus Christ, Fred, hurry up. Fred !!

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Fred runs out from the door at the left and opens the cage

with a key. He is dressed in a sort of paramilitary uniform. A

whip is in his right hand, a club attached to his belt. As soon as

he enters the cage he begins laying about on all sides with the

whip. Flails the backs of Juan and Arthur and beats them to the

ground. All others duck for cover.

ESTHER: Beat them, officer!! Beat them as hard as you can!! I've been watching them for some time, and I know they're up to no good. Go ahead, beat them! Beat Them !

BERNICE: ( Crying out from the behind the shield to the lavatory): I can't stand it! I just can't stand it! I'm going to throw up!

Sickened by the violence she vomits into the void. The

vomit drops down into the tank. Wexelblatt switches off the

console and jumps to his feet. He is flush with indignation.

WEXELBLATT: Shit!! God damn it, she's clogged up the generator ! That's the second time in a week.

Juan and Arthur are lying on the planks, bruised and

bloody. Juan is in a coma. Kevin and Dutch help Fred carry the

bodies out of the cage, through the door and off-stage. Frog

walks across the treadle to the zinc counter.; but the power has

been switched off and there is no beer waiting for him.

Wexelblatt has switched off the power. Frog collapses on the

floor in a stupor.

Wexelblatt nervously paces back and forth, consumed with

anger. Maywood works unperturbed at his desk. With a sudden

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imperious gesture Wexelblatt sweeps all the ledgers on

Maywood's desk off and onto the floor.

MAYWOOD: (Looks up with incredulity) What are you doing , Arnold? Those are our books !

Maywood goes down on all fours to retrieve them.

Wexelblatt kicks them across the stage. Fred has returned to

the room and stands at attention waiting for orders.

WEXELBLATT: Throw them all in the trash! What difference can it make? Pete, we've got to talk. ( Maywood goes over to Fred) Good work, Fred. You're a real asset to the corporation . ( They shake hands. Maywood looks at his watch). It's time for their shit break. Tell the girls to start making up the sandwiches. (Fred starts to walk away.) Oh, and Fred: when you have a moment, could you clean that gunk out of the urine tank? Thanks.

FRED: Sure thing, boss! (Addresses the crew behind bars) Step to it, comrades! Shit Break! ( Fred organizes them. Opens the door to the cage. They exit in single file and go through the door at left center stage. Fred goes inside, kicks Frog up onto his feet, grabs Dutch and pulls them both outside. At the far end of the process, Bernice leads Esther out the door.

Wexelblatt nervously circles Maywood's desk. WEXELBLATT: Arthur and Juan ...hopeless ...

we're never going to get them to drink beer..

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MAYWOOD: I don't agree. It's a classic double bind. You see, Arnold ...

WEXELBLATT: Holy hell! I tell him we're bankrupt and he spouts psychobabble ! I'm telling you once again, we're through. Kaput! On the skids! Damn it, you can't reason with a bone-headed shrink!

MAYWOOD: Arnold, I resent that!WEXELBLATT: Okay, okay! So I blow my stack

sometimes. I'm sorry, okay ? How you feel now is nothing compared to what you're going to feel a month from now when we're out on the street together with these bums!

MAYWOOD: Arnold, they are not bums !!WEXELBLATT (Ignores him) : ...Arthur drinks

rotgut ... "hooch "he calls it (shakes his head) Where the hell did he get the money? Juan's a wino . .. Dutch, Kevin two senile vegetables .. Bernice puking into the generator once a day... Pete, this isn't a business, it's a ward in Bellevue!! ...

MAYWOOD: Relax , Arnold. You can't establish a "win-win" relationship if you go on like that. You need to develop some social skills. Make more "I" statements: Rather than "This is a hospital ward", say something like " I think this is a hospital ward". Rather than " You can't reason with a bone-headed shrink", say " I think that a bone-headed shrink is a

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difficult person to reason with". You'll see. It really works. You've got problems with role reversal also.. .

WEXELBLATT: Why don't you just call me an Oedipus Complex with a jackass fixation and let it go at that?

MAYWOOD: It's just that... Well: things aren't as bad as you think. Look, help me get these papers off the floor.

They bend down and collect the papers and put them back

on Maywood's desk. Wexelblatt picks up one and stares at it.

WEXELBLATT: You still haven't told me how we're going to make money.

MAYWOOD: All businesses have to expect to take a loss at the beginning. ( He goes over to his desk, retrieves a ledger). Here, look at the figures: food, maintenance, beer for 8 employees. Fred's salary. Publicity, overhead, miscellaneous..... (Flips pages)

These are kilowatt hours, divided up between our clients... corporate ... municipal ... Why am I telling you all this? You're the mathematician! Figure it all out for yourself.

Wexelblatt sits down at Maywood's desk and studies the

ledger. Fred comes in from the other room carrying brushes, a

bucket, a mop and rags. Opens a door in the generator. Cleans

the urine tank. Opens the door to the assembly line, cleans up

the treadmill and bleacher , wipes down the counter, etc .

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WEXELBLATT (Writing in the margins of Maywood's ledgers with a pencil) : You've forgotten depreciation. Let's say ... 6% .... overhead ... under maintenance you've entered the same item twice . (Looks up, a fatuous grin on his face) .. Admit it , Pete : my idea of tapping into the Con Edison line to supply our own power was simply brilliant!

MAYWOOD: Hey, Wexy! Have I ever said otherwise?

WEXELBLATT: (Continues to study the figures) .... The beer's really cheap , isn't it? That was Clair's idea ... buy it in kilogallons. Don't forget to call up that lawyer - what's his name?

MAYWOOD: Alan .. Alan something . WEXELBLATT: Yes. First thing in the morning.

Ask him to work the tax deduction angle. How's this sound? "Mayblatt Utilities : A non-profit corporation dedicated to the social rehabilitation of alcoholics"! Pete, you know all about those things .... Decimal point in the wrong place here... corrected over there... ( Sits up, looks considerably relieved)... Things could be worse...

(ENTER BETH from left She is crying :)BETH: Arnold, I'm leaving you! I can't take it any

more.WEXELBLATT: What the hell's this all about?

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BETH: Poor Juan! He's unconscious. Your henchman, Fred, beat him into a coma! He's got chronic anemia, for God's sake! He's half dead as it is and you're finishing him off ! (Bursts into wails ) - All for money ! ( Sits down in a chair . Maywood hurries over to her with a handkerchief, a glass of water and some aspirins)

WEXELBLATT: Why, of all the ...! Women ! What you call a 'coma', Bethykittens , comes from the wine in his liver, the beer clogging his brain, and the rico e frijoles in his guts!

BETH: Oh, Arnold ! My husband's a racist beast! (Doubles over with sobs.)

MAYWOOD: Arnold... she may have a point. It appeared to me that Fred did show a little too much ... er .. enthusiasm.

WEXELBLATT (Shrugs) : Thank God somebody around here shows enthusiasm! My stupidity : I truly believed these drunks would jump at the chance to drink all day long.

MAYWOOD : Arnold, we don't call them ... WEXELBLATT (Shouting, cutting him off ) Look at

them! Instead of working they're sleeping! Sitting around on their asses! Staring at their beer mugs - like they were looking at fish in an aquarium! Yapping! Socializing! Anything but what we pay them to do: drinking ! What do they think we pay them

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for? They've been given the chance of a lifetime to drink as much as they want ... and they don't do it !

( CLAIR sticks her head through the door.)CLAIR: Juan's coming around, Arnold. He won't

die on you, boys. Less money for the undertaker. WEXELBLATT: Dammit, he's tougher than

whalehide! They all are. ( Addresses both Clair and Beth) I guarantee you Juan will outlive every one of us.

CLAIR: They've finished lunch. They're ready if you are.

MAYWOOD: Send them in , on the double! We don't waste time around here!

(BETH and CLAIR go out through the left door.)BETH: (Off-stage). Line up, oh ye wretched of the

earth! Get ready to destroy yourselves! WEXELBLATT: Women! You 're leagued against

us! We work our asses off providing for you, and you despise us for it! ( Sits back down at his place at the console.) Que les jeux commencent !!

Fred comes over, holds open the door to the generator

cage. Enter into the cage, from stage left, in the following

order: ESTHER; KEVIN: FROG; BERNICE; DUTCH; JUAN;

ARTHUR; SKI-CAP. They line up in single file behind the zinc

bar counter.

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WEXELBLATT: (Opens a bottle of some expensive imported beer with a church key. Lifts it high ) Lechaim, bums !

He throws a switch. The mechanical arm begins working.

Esther picks up the first mug of beer, goes off to the benches to

drink. The others follow suit.

The grim ritual begins once more: Beer, Drink, Treadle,

Staircase, Lavatory, Descent, Treadle, Beer , etc.

Fred is standing , proud and erect, against the wall inside

the cage. His arms are crossed, the whip dangles from his right

hand. The "work" proceeds in a somber silence, with a

disquieting sort of stumbling efficiency.

After an appropriate length of time the lights on

Wexelblatt's console start to blink regularly and beam brightly.

WEXELBLATT: (Bottle in hand) Cheers !!CHORUS OF ALCOHOLICS (Mimicking him) :

Cheers!! Frog trips on the treadle. He lies sprawled face down on

the ground. Fred pushes him off onto the concrete with his

boot. Dutch comes down from the lavatory, walking with his

pronounced limp, panting and gasping. Arthur prods Juan up

the staircase to the lavatory. THE MACHINE WORKS!!

WEXELBLATT: Pete, go get Clair and Bethy. I want them to see this.

Maywood goes off-stage, returns with the two women.

Wexelblatt shows them the console, indicates certain lights,

interprets their significance in terms of profits . While he does

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so, the ritual performance inside the generator goes on. Beth

puts her arm around Arnold's waist, Clair cuddles with

Maywood.

CLAIR: Peter! You're such a villain. BETH: Oh, Arnold! ( Rubs his stomach) There

must be a human being somewhere inside that fat tub of yours. I really hate you. (She nuzzles him a teasing kiss on the cheek.)

ESTHER: Jesus, Joseph and Mary! I've never had so much to drink in my whole life! I'm ready to drop dead!

CURTAIN.Act II, Scene 2

Summer. A few years later. Along the west side of the

Bowery, New York City , between Houston and Prince. The

street is dirty and sordid. Only one derelict can be seen, lying

on the pavement and slumped up against the wall.

Center-Left. The facade of a saloon. Its doors are opened

to reveal that it has no customers.

To the right a newsstand. Its vendor (JOE) sits inside,

facing the audience.

The BARTENDER ( MIKE) walks out the door of the

saloon, looks around.

MIKE : RUINED! Another God-damned wasted day! .. ( Addresses the news vendor) Hey! Joe!

JOE: What's up , Mike?

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MIKE: Gimme a Daily News, will'ya? I ain't got nothin' t'do anyhow but read the fucken papers. ( Joe leaves his stall, brings the paper to Mike.)

JOE: It is our pleasure to serve you. ( Mike gives him some change. Sits down on a bench outside the saloon. Opens the paper.) Business bad, huh?

MIKE: Dere ain't no business. How can it be bad?... HUH?

JOE: Jesus, Mike, six months ago dis street was crawlin' with bums! Now look at it! You ain't gonna tell me dey's all gone and found religion?

MIKE: ( Not looking up) I ain't gonna' tell you nothin' .

JOE: Why? Has you got a better idea?MIKE: Yep. Guess so.JOE: Okay, know-it-all. You tell me.MIKE: (Folds newspaper. Stands up. Goes over to

Joe, behaves as if he intends to whisper in his ear. Yells.) PISS POWER!!

JOE: ( Jumps back, holding his ear) What? Piss who ?

MIKE: Piss POWER! Joe, you must be a God-damned moron! It's been in all the fucken newspapers for the last year!

JOE: Funny. I ain't heard nothin' about it.MIKE: (Folds the paper to an appropriate article,

hands it over to Joe) Youse can still read, can't you?

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(Joe reads as Mike continues talking) Seems dere's a new factory opened up out in Salt Lake City. De whole thing started right here, not two blocks from where I'm standing here talkin' to you today.

Seems there was dees yoyos, college-edjicaytid creeps; you knows de type. Dey figures out a way ta'make electricity from bums! Dey rounds'em up, takes'em to East Hampton and puts'em teh'work. It goes broke'a couple'a times, but dat ain't nothin': de plant dey got dere now is bigger'en dis whole fucken block! (Pauses in his recollection)

Jesus Christ, did dey clean up the Bowery! Ev'ry mother-fucken New York City bum out in East Hampton! Workin'! In all your livin' days, Joe, did you ever heara dat? Bums workin' ? I'll be a God-damned monkey's uncle if the whole cock-suckin' Suffolk County don't get its juice from dem creeps! Even Con Edison's goin' broke! Am I'm goin' broke! Shit!!

JOE: I'll be damned ! Den, why de hell ain't I heard nothin' about it?

MIKE: Because you're stupid, Joe. ( Takes paper back and resumes reading.)

JOE (Reflects. Starts to return to the newsstand. Turns around and comes back): Say. If you ask me, somethin' ain't right ... if all dem bums got good jobs now ... Why dat sounds CRAZY! How does dem bozos out in Southampton get bums to stop drinkin' ?

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MIKE: Dat's de whole point, asshole. Dey don't stop drinkin' ! Dey drinks more'n ever! And dey dies young, too, but maybe dey's happy.

My son - he's studyin' t'be an engineer at Cooper Union - he explained it t'me; Dem creeps, believe it or not, got a way t'make electricity right outta piss! Dose boozers don't do nothin' else but pissin' away - morning, noon and night! And it ain't Southampton neither, dumbo, it's East Hampton! And it ain't just East Hampton no more, it's de whole fucken U.S.A.!!

JOE: Well, if dat don't beat everything! (Notices the lone derelict lying on the pavement for the first time.) Say! What's HE doin' here?

MIKE: Got me. I ain't never seed him down here before. He shows up about an hour ago and lays right down inna gutter! He ain't had nothin' to drink , neither, de shithead.

JOE: ( Goes over to derelict.) Hey! You! Yeah, you! Why ain't you out workin' widda udder bums in East Hampton?

DERELICT : (Looks up, smiling. ) It's very simple ,sir. I'm not a alcoholic, I'm an actor!

MIKE & JOE ( together) : An Actor ?DERELICT: I don't need another job, you see. I'm

being paid for doing this.MIKE: Who's payin' you? And why're dey doin' it?

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ACTOR/DERELICT : I work for Gotham Tour Guides, sir, headquarters at 45th and Broadway. They arrange guided tours of Manhattan. I'm being paid to restore some of the lost charm of the Bowery.

MIKE: If dat don't take de cake ! Now I's heard everything. Damned if it don't make you wanna' puke! Say- how long you gotta lie dere inna gutter?

ACTOR: (Pulls up a pocket watch) . A group is expected to come along in five minutes. Then I'm free for the rest of the afternoon. It's just a part-time job, but it pays well.

MIKE: ( Laughs) I'll be a fucken God-damned horse's ass! If dat don't beat all!

Okay! What'de hell: What're you drinkin'? What kinda beer does you like?

ACTOR: Heineken's please. I can pay you for it.MIKE: Shit no! You makes me laugh! Dat's worth

a' beer on de house any day! ( Goes back into the saloon. Re-emerges with an opened bottle of Heineken's) Say, Joe, where's you goin'?

JOE: Back to de newsstand, Mike . Maybe dem tourists'll buy some newspapers.

MIKE: Sure thing, Joe. Me, I'm gonna' stand right here and watch.

ACTOR: I see them coming. (Places the bottle of beer in full view. Skillfully slumps onto the ground in a posture of drunken degradation .)

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ENTER: tour guide and owner of Gotham tours BRUNO

PHILIPONE. He is flamboyantly costumed. He wears a "Mad

Hatter" hat with the words 'GOTHAM TOUR GUIDES' in bold

letters across the front.

Entering after him is group composed entirely of East

Asian tourists each of them with one or more cameras. As they

quickly file past the actor they click their cameras numerous

times in rapid succession. Philipone and his group continue in

an unbroken motion off-stage.

MIKE: (Gapes after them in open-mouthed wonder.) Jesus! I ain't never seen nothin' like dat in all my mother-fucken days!

He disappears for a few minutes inside the saloon. The

audience sees and hears the windows being slammed shut. Then

the front door is slammed shut and locked. Shortly afterwards

Mike re-emerges from an alleyway to the right of the saloon.

His jacket is slung over his shoulder and he carries a suitcase in

his hands. Walks by Joe's newsstand.

MIKE: Joe, I'm gettin' outta' here. Dere ain't no room in dis world no more for an honest businessman. Youse take my advice. Become a bum ... And get rich!! (An angry Mike stalks off-stage.)

CURTAIN

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Act IIIScene I

Stockholder's Meeting, Con Edison of New York

A conference meeting room in the Sheraton Hotel, New York City. Starting from stage left background , several rows of chairs face a raised platform at the far end to the right. ( The set-up recalls the staging for the scene in the Mission of the Holy Breath).

The platform holds a pair of tables pushed together, on which sit water pitchers, microphones, etc. Seated behind these tables, facing the audience are several Consolidated Edison executives. Before each of them is a name plaque indicating their name and official standing within Con Ed.

At the center of this group sits the President of Con Ed, imposing, flabby anc confused: PORTNY HINCKMAN.

To his left sits Vice-President STANLEY ARBUTHNOT. He is a bullish, bad-tempered fool. His demeanor is grey, with clothing to match. He has a crew cut. There is a permanent scowl on his face, covering up the fact that he's got nothing to say.

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Sitting to Stanley's left is Con-Ed Secretary-Treasurer PHOEBUS CADWALADER. He is blond, athletic and affable. His credentials and manner are impeccably upper-crust. Portfolios filled with documents are piled in a stack in front of him . An enthusiastic Yes-man, he has the uncongenial duty of explaining the financial state of Con Ed to the assembled stock holders.

To the right of Portny Hinckman sits Economic Consultant DR. WILFRED BANKS. Sitting at Wilfred's right is Public Relations Director MRS. MABEL JENKINS.

On the floor of the meeting room, stage right foreground, to the left of the platform, is a long collapsible table. Sitting behind it one finds a receptionist, JANE, and a staff member or two . On the table sit a pile of financial reports and standard Con Ed propaganda brochures. Blue folders labelled with the stockholder's names are in a pile to Jane's right. Also name tags, registration clip boards, and lists of names of persons expected to attend.

DOORS are opening on both the left and right walls, as participants enter to register and take seats. To the left, on the back wall, there is a fire exit.

ENTER, from Stage Left : JOHN STUBBINS , a major stock-holder. He walks over to Jane's table,

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signs the registration book, and receives a name tag and information folder.

STUBBINS: What's this stuff all about? JANE: Glad to see you back again this year , Mr.

Stubbins. I couldn't tell you. You'll just have to read it yourself and find out.

STUBBINS: Don't you worry, Jane, I will. ( Flips through the financial report ). I know who the real culprits are!

Stubbins wanders off to another part of the stage, sits

down and starts reading the report. ENTER, from right, ANN

and SHIRLEY

ANN: Let's sit down. SHIRLEY: I can't wait for the sparks to fly.STUBBINS: (Blurts out) : FUTURIZATION!??

(Strides across the room, brandishing the financial report ) These bums spent 50 millions of our dollars on Futurization ? ! What they really did was slash our dividends 10 per cent! ( Storms off stage to the right)

SHIRLEY: You see? It's beginning already.They seat themselves. Most of the chairs are filled.

Stubbins returns in the company of 3 other men, all dressed in

the drab corporate mode. They are all angry. As they take seats

in the front row Hinckman raps the gavel and calls for the

general attention.

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HINCKMAN: Ladies and Gentlemen! ( Clears throat) Will those who have not yet taken their seats please do so? We've got a lot of ground to cover today.

(ENTER, from left stage, BRUNO PHILLIPONE, Manager of Gotham Tours. He is outlandishly dressed in his normal business costume. Stops by receptionist's table.)

JANE: Could I please have your name, sir?PHILLIPONE: Bruno Phillipone, President and

Director of Gotham Tour Guides - Inc !JANE: (Scans her lists ) I don't ..er ... seem to

find your name on the list of stockholders, sir.PHILLIPONE: I ain't! I'm broke enough as it is!

You might say I'm here in my capacity as a member of the disgruntled public.

JANE: Very good, sir. Go right on in. You understand of course that you cannot vote or participate in any of the discussions.

PHILLIPONE: Tink I don't understand dat? Dis is a democracy!

Takes seat. By now everyone has been seated. Hinckman

raps his gavel again:

HINCKMAN: (Rises, microphone in hand) Friends ... Stockholders ... Co-proprietors ...um .. It is my honor to welcome you to the Annual Fiscal Convention of Consolidated Edison ... er .. Incorporated ...mmmm .... Many of us (coughs ) know

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each other from similar .... gatherings over the years.... Do I see a few newcomers? ..Yes ; how do you do? (coughs )... Welcome aboard! There've been some changes here at the top as well. (Uncomfortable pause ) So! Let's dispose of the preliminaries, shall we? ... to not beat about the bush ..er... as it were... and get down to business! ( PHILLIPONE emits a loud yawn. Hinckman continues).

You all know me of course. I'm Portny Hinckman, President of Con Ed!

STUBBINS: Your mug is in the papers every day, you crook!STANLEY ARBUTHNOT leans over table, shouts through

microphone.

ARBUTHNOT : Shaddup!!HINCKMAN: Yes ..( Sickly laugh)... I am receiving

a lot of notoriety .. I mean publicity .. these days. Let's proceed, shall we? The.. er.. "gentleman" to my left is Mr. Stanley Arbuthnot, our Senior Vice President. ( Arbuthnot stands up. Scattered applause. Boos and catcalls. Phillipone yawns once more. Arbuthnot scowls darkly. Sits down. ) The distinguished gentleman to my right may be unknown to most of you. Owing to the recent unexpected crisis in the ..er.. "competitive arena " ..( Pauses, trying to remember what he was about to say)... well, because of

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that and for other reasons ... the company has hired an economic consultant of... considerable clout ! and ... unimpeachable credentials. It gives me great pleasure to introduce ..Mr... umm .. Wilfred Banks, PhD ! ( Banks stands up. He is greeted with stony silence) .

Dr. Banks has already demonstrated his usefulness to the corporation by the "coinage"... er... "invention".. that is to say .. "discovery" of an original and important budget item he calls "Futurization" ! ( Loud boos from the audience. Stubbins jumps to his feet.)

STUBBINS: You brought along this phoney to tangle us in statistics and gobbledegook ! The stockholders won't be fooled! We know when were 're being conned by Con Ed! ( Cries of support, indignation)

ARBUTHNOT: Shaddup, you boob yourself! You ain't got de floor!

HINCKMAN: Nonsense, sir! That is ..er ..um ,, nonsense. ( Whispers) Stanley, calm down! I can handle this. ( In a normal voice, to his audience) . Sir, no matter what you may think, Dr. Banks was not hired, I repeat, Dr. Banks was not hired to ... er ... muddy the waters. He's here on my invitation invited to clarify certain aspects of normal working procedure. Mr. Stubbins,

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you will have ample opportunities to express your concerns, along with every other stockholder .. er , spectator ..er.. co-proprietor ... at appropriate moments ( A sick chuckle from somewhere in the audience. Stubbins sits down with bad grace. Banks sits down.)

HINCKMAN: To the right of Dr. Banks is the present Director of Public Relations, a very lovely lady as I'm sure you'll all agree. Mrs. Mabel Jenkins!

JENKINS rises, smiling sweetly. No reaction from the

audience.

JENKINS: Nobody ever said Con Ed was perfect, folks. But you all know the slogan: "Con Ed from 'A' to 'Zed' !!" ( Confused murmuring in the audience. Jenkins sits down.)

HINCKMAN: Last but not least ... more or less ... well, in any case ... I direct your attention to the man seated at the far end ... (Points to Cadwalader ) .. he's the person I'm sure you're all waiting to hear. ( Rasping voice, sotto voce , to Cadwalader) Phoebus! Don't slouch like that! Sit up straight! ( Returning to audience) Ladies and gentlemen, let's all give a hand to Phoebus Cadwalader, Secretary-Treasurer of Con Ed! ( Cadwalader rises. Outbursts from the audience. Cries demanding that he be heard immediately.) Thank you, Phoebus. You can sit down now. ( Cadwalader sits down. The audience is brought to

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order with difficulty) Friends and associates of Con Ed! Before turning Phoebus over to you ( Snickers) , I've prepared an ..er... "thumbnail sketch" ..of the..uh... "grand scheme" .. of corporate development ! It would be foolish to deny that we are navigating troubled waters...

ANN: Con Ed is bankrupt, you phoney!ARBUTHNOT: Shad .. ( He begins his invariable

reply, but is silenced with a wave of the hand from Hinckman. Mabel Jenkins replies)

JENKINS: "Bankrupt" is such a crude word, Madame. Haven't you heard of deficit financing? Give Portny a break and let him finish, okay? (Sits down)

HINCKMAN: Thank you Mrs. Jenkins. We have always admired your ability to put a positive face on things. However it is a fact that there is a certain .. uh .. novel . .. technology .. which can even be somewhat ..er... "embarrassing" to describe...

SHRILL VOICE FROM AUDIENCE: Piss Power !!ARBUTHNOT: ( Standing up, furious) Who of

youse guys out dere has got de nerve to talk like dat in a place like dis ! ???

CADWALADER: ( Sharp whisper) Sit down, Stan! You're just making things worse. ( Aloud, to himself. Wipes his brow) My God , I didn't know it would be this bad!

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HINCKMAN: Ladies and gentlemen, I beg you! Be reasonable! We won't be able to accomplish a thing this afternoon if you're going to carry on like this!

VOICES: Throw the swindlers in jail!Get off the pot, you old pisser!You're the one getting drunk with our

money !!We want Cadwalader! Let's hear from

Cadwalader!Get a job, Portny ! You're fired! Piss off, you pisser! We're all pissed!Cadwalader! We want to hear from

Cadwalader!! ( Soon everybody is chanting "Cadwalader! Cadwalader! ")

HINCKMAN: (Bangs gavel on the table) Silence! Silence! I will not .. urp .. tolerate .. um .. disorder! Quiet, please!

VOICE: It's Skid Row for you bums! Raucous laughter. Hinckman sits down in the uproar

punctuated by boos and cat-calls. PHOEBUS CADWALADER

stands up. Blows into microphone. Audience quiets down.

CADWALADER: How do'ya do, folks? I'm not used to all this attention. Normally people just want me to shut up! ( He emits a mug laugh ; boos from the audience) What was I saying? Oh, yes!

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( Shuffles papers nervously) I've got it all in writing somewhere. (Takes off his glasses, put them in pocket, pulls out reading glasses, puts them on, shuffle papers with more decisiveness, all with the air of stalling for time.) AHA! (Pulls out paper from stack, waves it at the audience) It's here ! (Begins reading)

" The winds of optimism sweep the corridors of Con Ed as the old gives way to the new. We've recently witnessed a remarkable upswing in the frequency with which median-risk allocations are being funneled into venture speculations ...." ( Loud boos).

" Despite the numerous opportunities cropping up on all sides, we have so far resisted the temptation to relax our customary restraint, nor have we lost sight of our time-honored realism which has from the beginning, piloted Con Ed to the top..... "

VOICE: The figures, Phoebus! Give us the figures!CADWALADER: Yes; of course. ( More desperate

shuffling of papers. ) Figures .,.. Figures ... It all figures ( Chuckling. Pulls out a paper, once more waves it to the audience). Hooray, folks! Here it is! (Reads)

"In the first quarter of the fiscal year Con Edison stock leveled off at rates slight below parity as determined by the previous year's average. "

VOICE: How much is slightly?

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CADWALADER: Er... Thirty points ... (Groans of dismay. Cadwalader continues to read)

"Because of this unforeseen crisis the corporation was forced to suspend payment of dividends in March. Through circumstances beyond its control, 6 power plants around the state were shut down in May for refueling and repairs ... "

STUBBINS: ( Jumps up in a boiling rage.) That's a load of horseshit Phoebus, and you know it ! There were blackouts at once a week all summer long! I run a data processing company in Potsdam. We lost thousands! Tens of thousands! ( Shakes his fist, etc. Remains standing. )

CADWALADER : ( Struggling against the interruptions, continues reading):

" Compensation was made in aggravated cases. Despite this, things went from bad to worse. By the end of the summer, Con Ed stock was trading for as low as 7 points... "

STUBBINS: That ain't enough to hang a shirt on! Loyalty, my ass! Starting tomorrow, my company gets its juice from piss!!

VOICES : Sit down, sir! Let him finish! We all want to hear him! Give the rest of us a chance!

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PHILLIPONE stands up. His Gotham Tours hat is still on

his head

PHILLIPONE: I think we oughta' let'm talk! As a member of the aggrieved public, I say we gotta right to demand action! I ain't got no business no more! I'm broke! We don't need all dat hot air! You been givin' us duh screw job!

CADWALADER: What is your name sir? Whom do you represent?

PHILLIPONE : Bruno Phillipone, Managing Director of Gotham Tours- Inc ! My business is been wiped out when dem companies took de bums off'n de streets!

CADWALADER: Sir: do you own any Consolidated Edison stock?

PHILLIPONE: Dat don't matter!CADWALADER: I'm afraid it does. Only

stockholders are permitted to speak at these meetings.

PHILLIPONE: I gotta right t'speak! I ain't put aside notin' for my old age! No pension, no insurance, no nothin'! You all gotta do somethin' about this new kinda juice, or dere' gonna' be a revolution in dis country!! (TOTAL UPROAR)

CADWALADER: I'm terribly sorry sir, but if you don't sit down right away I'm going to be forced to call the security guard. (Mabel Jenkins stands up)

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JENKINS: Phoebus, let me handle this. Sir, could you say your name again?

PHILLIPONE: Bruno Phillipone, Miss. President and Director of Gotham Tour Guides - Inc !

JENKINS: Mr. Phillipone: although technically you do not have the right to speak at this meeting , I have the impression that, in light of the seriousness of the crisis, many of us would appreciate hearing what you have to say. Is there anyone else out there with a story to tell? Let's see a show of hands .. Yes .. over there . What is your name , Ma'm? (points to MAUREEN SHETLEY.)

SHETLEY (Standing up) : My name is Dr. Maureen Shetley. I'm from the Board of Education. Mr. Hinckman invited me to come.

JENKINS: Thank you very much, Dr. Shetley. And you, sir, over there? (MIKE, the bartender from the previous act.)

MIKE: Jus' call me Mike Flanagan, bartender. JENKINS: Mr. Phillipone, could you come up to

the microphone? We want to hear what these - uh "gin mills" have done to your business. Please make it brief. Then you, Dr. Shetley, followed by Mr. Flanagan.

STUBBINS: Hey! What about me? I'm going broke too!

JENKINS: (With weary patience): Mr. Stubbins, you are a major investor. You will be given every

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opportunity to make your views known. Now, Mr. Phillipone, if you would be so kind ...

(Bruno Phillipone moves to the front, swipes a microphone from the table, faces the audience)

PHILLIPONE: All I gotta say today is dat ...(All the lights go dead. Also the microphones,

speaker system and air-conditioning. A power blackout ! Stage goes dark )

VOICE : It's a Blackout !VOICES: Help!

Let me out!Move, you idiot!I can't see! Help!That does it! I'm fed up to here!Hey you, don't take my raincoat!Stop pushing!Con Ed's really gone bust now! ....

HINCKMAN: Please, everybody! We must remain calm ! It's only an act of God!

STUBBINS: ( Works his way up to the table) Oh, is that so? Take that, you bum! ( Stubbins punches Hinckman in the nose)

HINCKMAN: Yowl !VOICE: Has anybody got a flashlight? PHILLIPONE: Where's the fire exit?CADWALADER: Not that way! You'll set off the

alarm!

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STUBBINS: Not unless it runs on piss! CADWALADER: Oh, that's right; I forgot. Will

somebody please lead the way?( People start piling out the fire exit)

HINCKMAN: (Shouting ) This meeting is adjourned until tomorrow afternoon, by which time Con Ed , up to the mark as ever, will have fully restored power to the greatest city in the world ! ( All exit from both sides of the stage)

ssssssssssssssssssssssss

Act III, Scene 2The same. Next afternoon at around the same

time. The receptionist and her table are gone, as are Wilfred Banks and Stanley Arbuthnot. There are also fewer persons in the audience. Maureen Shetley, standing by the panel in front, holds a microphone, and addresses the audience):

SHETLEY: Let me tell you something about the sinister effect of these enterprises on our students . Educators devote their lives to inculcating the dignity of honest labor in young minds. Yet our schoolchildren are learning that worthless bums can sit around drinking all day, yet earn more than their fathers do through the sweat of their brow!

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How can we expect them to study Latin, Geometry, English Composition, or Chemistry in a society that rewards laziness and intoxication? ( Outcries of sympathetic indignation)

Make no mistake about it! These corporations are run by criminals! People without moral scruples! Such people are not inhibited by shame!

Most of you won't believe what I'm going to tell you: "Pushers" - I repeat, "pushers" - have been infiltrating our buildings and playgrounds with the intentions of turning innocent children into alcoholics! ( Shocked gasps. This is not science fiction! ( Shetley holds up a sheaf of pages) These reports are from the New York Police Department (Reads):

" On April 24th a stranger was observed wandering about the playground of a high school in the Bronx. The janitor reported something suspicious. He was therefore apprehended and taken to police headquarters for questioning.

" A black briefcase was found on his person. Inside it were 3 dozen souvenir bottles" - you know, the single shot kind -(makes the appropriate gesture) "of scotch, bourbon, vodka and brandy. Confronted with the evidence he confessed that he'd been hired by U-Lectric' , a 'human waste' utility . His mission was

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to uncover potential alcoholics in the school population and seduce them into the local bars..."

CADWALADER : ( Rising up) : I think we've heard enough! This is an outrage!

BARTENDER: If I ever heared wut dat some jacko wuz turnin' my daughter into a boozehound, I'd put'im t'rou a meat grinder!

SHETLEY: This is not an isolated incident. Having emptied the Missions and the Skid Rows, the tycoons of "organo-molecular energy " are sinking their claws into Johnny and Jill! Similar stories have come to us from Philadelphia, Atlanta, Boston, Dallas, San Francisco ... ( Pandemonium in the audience. Portny Hinckman raps his gavel for silence)

HINCKMAN: I think I speak for all of us when I sat that we owe Doctor . ..er .. ( looks for her name in the papers in front of him ) .. Shetley a round of applause. ( Applause) Our "competitors" are nothing more than vicious gangsters! I think I can confidently speak for the coporation, and say that Con Edison is simply appalled to discover that human beings can sink this low in their quest for profits ( Audible smirks from the audience ) ... um .. anyway ... we do not intend to take this sitting down! Indeed not! Con Edison is meeting with legislators in the state government at Albany next month. Religious leaders, bankers, social service agencies, state and local police,

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anyone with a stake in the present crisis will be invited to participate. At this very moment Con Ed is working on a plan of action that will knock these obscene sweatshops ...

VOICE : Hey Portny, sweat isn't the word for it. (Laughter)

HINCKMANN : Well , these utilities ... flat on their backs ! (Raises his fist; belches ) And, I dare hope, put their ...er ... "perpetrators" in jail! ( He stops, waiting for applause. There is none. People stand up to leave. Portny Hinckman continues:)

We thank all of you for coming back this afternoon. Let me remind you that, owing to the recent blackout, none of the elevators are working. Would you all please go out by the fire exit?

People go to the fire exit. Someone opens the door. Alarm

goes off immediately. The shrill noise persists to the end of the

scene.

CADWALADER : Oh, my God! ( Buries his head in his hands)

HINCKMAN: (Shouting to the crowd as they exit). What you are hearing is yet another demonstration of the dependable service which Con Ed provides, and will continue to provide, to the world's greatest city! You may find the alarm .. um ... irritating , yet ... if there ever is a real emergency that sound will save many lives! Go home to your family .. if you have

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one ..um ... sleep secure in your beds and all that ... (pauses. raises voice) confident and with faith in the future, knowing that there is no wiser investment than Con Ed stock ... and ... er .. uh ... Remember the slogan : "Con Ed from 'A' to 'Zed' !!" ... Um ....

CURTAIN

Act IVEast Hampton, Long Island

10 Years has passed since Act I. Interior of the modern factory of Mayblatt Utilities,

early morning .Scene 1

This power plant bears little resemblance to that of Act II . The former Rube Goldberg apparatus, combing treadle, conveyor belts, ladder, urine tank, etc., has been has been supplanted by modern high tech systems and elaborate decor.

Center Stage : Arnold Wexelblatt's Control Console . Below and to the left of the console is a Formica desk illuminated by Tensor lamps. It holds at least three telephone lines , a Fax machine and two computer monitors. Wexelblatt is seated before it, to its right, with his left profile facing towards the audience.

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Surrounding the Control Console in a semicircle are four other consoles similar to his. They abound in cords, jacks, plugs, flashing and blipping lights, levers, switches, dials, oscilloscopes. The scene conjures up an eerie resemblance to the control room of a nuclear plant, as depicted for example in the film, China Syndrome . These consoles are lettered A, B, C, D. When the curtain rises, only the stall at letter B is occupied by engineer BOB GARDNER. ( Eventually the others will be occupied as follows: A: CARL RESNICK ; C: FRED JENSEN , D: DAVID HERTZ .)

Above the semi-circular array of consoles is a BALCONY. This stretches the length of the back wall of the stage. Hoses and insulated cables descend from the balcony to vats along the floor at the back. When the act opens rises it is hidden in the folds of a big black curtain. 3 ladders give access to the balcony from the ground level. Noises of activities behind it may be heard, such as the voices of engineers, Carl, Dave and Fred, and the WORK FORCE that is being strapped into the assembly line.) Hanging below the balcony on the back wall is a banner with words written in large letters:

Mayblatt UtilitiesServing Long Island

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Covering the walls are plaques, charts, awards, photographs. Among them are several citations from the East Hampton Chamber of Commerce. A chemistry chart shows the structure of the uric acid molecule. A map of Long Island displays a dense network of power lines and generating stations.

Stage Right : Entrances from the street. These are large swinging doors in pairs.

Stage Left, Foreground :The office of Peter Maywood. This is walled off from the rest of the stage by a translucent partition. Just outside the door of this office is his secretary's desk. Wexelblatt also has a secretary. Her desk is located between his console and the doors at the back wall.

ssssssssssssssssssAbout 8:30 AM. Arnold Wexelblatt and Bob

Gardner are running checks on all the systems in the plant prior to starting it up. Sounds effects include sequences of bleeps and other electronic noises. From behind the curtain we hear the voice of engineer DAVE HERTZ

DAVE : Just relax, Bernice! Stop that! Stop it I say! Why do I have to put up with the same thing every single God-damned day?

BERNICE : Ouch! You beast! You're making the straps too tight! Watch with you put your hands, you monster!

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DAVE: (Sound of a slap) Yowl!BERNICE : Leggo of me, you filthy-minded nerd! DAVE : Shut up, bitch... I can't take much more of

this. (Sticks head through the curtain, Calls down) Hey Bob! Can you hear me?

BOB (at console B ) : Sure thing, Dave! How're you doing up there? Can we begin ?

DAVE: Bernice was the last one. They're all strapped into the assembly line. Throw the switch whenever you're ready. (Head disappears again behind the curtain.)

Bob Gardner and Arnold Wexelblatt energetically

manipulate knobs, switches, plugs, jacks. Sinusoidal patterns

form on their oscilloscopes . Each of the four back consoles has

at least two oscilloscopes; Wexelblatt's holds several more.

A shrill noise comes from Wexelblatt's console. He yanks

an insulated cord out of a plugboard.

WEXELBLATT: Bob, there's some kind of overload. Try switching off your A-register.

( Gardner does so. The buzz wavers, then resumes)

WEXELBLATT: It's not that . (Thinks. Raises voice. Calls towards balcony ). Hey Fred! Are you still there? Take a look at Arthur's blood pressure gauge, will you?

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FRED JENSEN is the foreman from Act I. In the ten years

that have passed since Act III, his alcoholism has been cured

and he's picked up a degree in Electrical Engineering.

FRED: (We hear him walking across the balcony, then the sounds of his work. The annoying squeal disappears. ) Arthur's fixed.

WEXELBLATT: Good; let's begin. Okay, Bob: bring it up ; slowly.

With dramatic concentration Bob pushes forward a

large lever. Dials and lights on his console are activated.

LINDA, Wexelblatt's secretary, rushes in through the

doors to the left. She unloads her coat and other items at her

desk and sits down to work.

WEXELBLATT: Linda, at last! What's been keeping you? And where's Pete? And Priscilla? His secretary? Why doesn't anybody ever show up on time around here?

LINDA: Professor Maywood telephoned me to say he'll be coming in late today. He left with Priscilla for Brookhaven Labs at 2 AM in the morning.

WEXELBLATT: Brookhaven ? Can you believe it? A mental pygmy like Pete trying to communicate with all those brains? They'll pulverize him! Why wasn't I told about this?

LINDA: I'm sorry, Professor Wexelblatt, I was waiting to hear from him . Professor Maywood

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received an emergency phone call at midnight. I apologize for being late, sir.

WEXELBLATT: Never mind about that. You're our best secretary by the way. We'll just have to start without them. Hey, Carl!

CARL : (Behind curtain) Arnold?WEXELBLATT: What's the news on Esther?CARL : I'm tightening the screws on her

respirator. She'll be all right. I suspect there's a loose gauge on Mike's left leg.

MIKE: Yeah, dere is allright! Uh-Huh!WEXELBLATT: Fix it, and hurry up .(Looks at his

watch) We all want to get out of here by 5 tonight. Linda, go get yourself some breakfast. Don't worry, there's time. Bring back coffee and Danishes for everyone by 10.

LINDA: Thank you, Professor Wexelblatt. (Stands up and walks out)

WEXELBLATT: (Yells) Fred!!FRED: Yeah, boss!WEXELBLATT: You, Dave, Carl : I want you all

down here! On the double! Let's get the show on the road!

Fred, Carl, Dave appear from under the black shroud on

the balcony. They scramble down the ladders and go to their

consoles: Carl , A; Fred, C ; Dave, D. Bob is still at B.

Wexelblatt and his 4 engineers get to work, typing commands

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into their computers, manipulating levers, producing a

panorama of effects: flashing lights, warm machine hums,

sudden buzzes, clanking, flying sparks, wave forms on the

oscilloscope monitors, etc. The commotion forces a rise in all

voice levels.

WEXELBLATT: Fred, open up the power in unit 7K ... Bob, there's static coming in on your transmission lines ... Dave, re-adjust the stabilizer, then refresh the floppies on Drive 8....

Okay Carl: countdown to Queens! Expect a heavy surge on all lines ....

DAVE: They were the last hold-out.

WEXELBLATT: The whole island's sewed up - at last! We've already begun negotiations with Newark ... Bob, there's something terribly wrong with your generators . Carl, download the readings from the Work Force gauges. Check for anything wrong...

CARL: Heavy breathing from Kevin ... Esther's blood pressure is too high. ...

( BETH enters in through the double doors on the right . She is crimson, and inarticulate with rage. Strides across the stage)

WEXELBLATT: Oh, Bethy, thank goodness you're here. Call up Dr. Sypek will you? See if he can come around this afternoon to take a look at Esther. There's

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3 more good years in that old souse ... ( No reply. Beth opens the door to Maywood's office, walks in, slams the door hard. Wexelblatt stares at her, then shrugs) The signal's coming through all right, Bob. Thanks. Stand by. Fred? Dave? Carl? Ready? ... Curtain !!

The black curtain covering the balcony swings open,

revealing (in order from left to right) ARTHUR, JUAN, DAN,

MIKE ( the bartender from Act II) , KEVIN, BERNICE.

They are strapped into chairs in a row along the balcony.

All are in excellent health, well-dressed, well-fed. Gauges ,

valves, wires and so on attached to their arms, legs, chests and

heads monitor a host of physiological indicators.

Large steins filled with beer pass by them on a rubber

conveyor belt moving along a zinc counter placed at the level of

their chests. They lift up the stains, guzzle their contents, then

replace them on the belt. Accessories have been added to give

the feeling of a neighborhood bar. Bowls of peanuts and potato

chips move along the counter. From off to the right, at balcony

level, comes juke box music. A wide screen TV broadcasts

sports events. There are even ads flashing from neon lights.

Gone are the treadle, the lavatory, the paddle wheel.

Instead hoses descend from the fly in the trousers of each

worker down from the balcony terminating in cylindrical

tanks, the UPTs ( Urine Processing Tanks), lining the

backstage ground level.

The rhythms at which the alcoholics lift their mugs, drink,

then and replace them, are synchronized to the regular

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flashing of lights on the control panels, the electronic noises,

the wave forms on the oscilloscopes, the factory clatter, etc. The

over-all musical effect is lively, comical, yet at the same time

somewhat depressing in its bloodless, mirthless, automated

consistency. The alcoholics appear to derive no joy from their

drinking. This is WORK.

Wexelblatt's dials the telephone on his desk :

WEXELBLATT: Hello? Wyandanch? Is this John? Hey John, this is Arnold. ..Okay, good ... Look John, Queens is going piss...that's right, today; expect a strong surge on the line in about half an hour.. How're the bums? .. (Chuckles ) .. Ours too... That bug juice must be good for them . They're healthier than we are! ( Laughs) .. Look, in case of a blackout, switch onto Ronkonkoma ..... Yes , they've been informed..

( DAN passes out and slumps over the counter and the rubber conveyor belt. The mugs collide into him, back up. A few drop onto the ground, possibly shatter. Dave throws a switch on Console D which stops the belt. )

DAVE : Dan's stinko. WEXELBLATT: John, I've got to hang up. Talk to

you later. ( Hangs up ) Bob, you're not doing anything right now. Take care of Dan, will you? .(In a loud voice, to all) Phase On Substitution Mode!!

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Bob Gardner removes his earphones, leaves the console

and climbs up one of the ladders. Removes all the gauges from

Dan, unties the straps and pulls him off the assembly line.

Then Bob goes off through a door to the left of the

balcony. In a few minutes he returns with an aged derelict,

CURTIS. Curtis is strapped into his chair, and all the gauges

applied. The rubber hose affixed to his fly is put into place.

This activity continues through Wexelblatt's telephone call

to Brooklyn up to the arrival of Peter Maywood. The other

engineers continue to work at their monitors.

WEXELBLATT (Picks up telephone and dials) : Hello? Brooklyn? This is Arnold. Yes, Arnold: ARNOLD WEXELBLATT! Get me Trevor on the line. Yes, that's right :COMPANY PRESIDENT WEXELBLATT! .. God damn it! Some dipsy secretary ... Hello? Hello Trevor? How's sales? What about Manhattan? No dice, huh? Con Ed's got' em by the balls? ... Why should we care, we're concentrating on New Jersey .. (Pause as he listens)

What's the news from Upstate? Poughkeepsie? Albany? What? WHAT'S THAT? ... Yes, we already know that . Albany's always passing laws against the "Piss Plutocrats" . (Guffaws).. Okay , read them to me, will you? ( As Trevor recites the texts of the new laws, Wexelblatt comments) Unenforceable ! ... Unenforceable ! .... Unenforceable! ... Not on Long

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Island they can't !.. The police don't even give us parking tickets! (Turns to address his engineers)

Hey boys! Get a load of this! Albany has given us an ultimatum!

FRED: Oh my; Con Ed must be going broke paying off all those politicians!

CARL : It can't even find a judge to issue the indictments! The Empire State hates Con Ed like poison.

DAVE: Cheaper, better service. Fewer breakdowns. Fewer blackouts ....

FRED: Safer streets... Well-fed, well-paid, happy workers ... Skid Rows a thing of the past

CARL: Socialism ... without moralism! ( All clap hands)

WEXELBLATT: ( Holds a hand over the telephone receiver) Boys! Trevor's on the line to the governor's mansion. ( Speaks into the receiver) What's that... Yes...Yes...(covers receiver again, talks to his crew) We've been ordered to black out Long Island immediately, file for unemployment, and send all the drunks back to Skid Row!

DAVE: Darn! They forgot to mention screwing our stockholders.

FRED: Suppose we ignore them. What nasty things will they do to us ?

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WEXELBLATT: (Back on phone) Trevor? What have they threatened us with? ... Just a minute, he's talking to the governor...Trevor, is that you? Yes? Yes? Uh-huh... ( To engineers) He's been told that the punishment will fit the crime ! (General merriment)

CARL: He must be pickled.DAVE: Tell him to piss off!FRED: Let's set up our next plant in Albany !BOB: ( Shouting from balcony) Wait until Con Ed

pulls out of Schenectady!WEXELBLATT: Did you hear that, Trevor? We've

got openings for a few drunk politicians! ..Okay, hang in there.. No, I wouldn't worry . Stay away from the Big Apple for a few days. You never know about the cops .... okay. ...okay .... Good to hear from you. 'Bye. .. (Wexelblatt starts to hang up the receiver, then hesitates) Maybe I should give Queens a ring. Perhaps not ..If something goes wrong they'll call us.( Hangs up the receiver)

DAVE: When is Queens scheduled to come on line?

WEXELBLATT (Looks at watch) : Half an hour ago. Let me give them a call. ( Starts to dial)

Bob indicates by waving his hands that the job is done.

When he's finished, Bob climbs down a ladder and resumes his

place at his Console B.

#99...

Scene 2ENTER: Peter Maywood, followed by his secretary

PRISCILLA, her arms loaded down with files , briefs, etc.

They've just returned from spending the night at Brookhaven.

Maywood is in a foul mood. Apparently something has gone

seriously wrong.

MAYWOOD: The Queens contract is scrubbed!! Stalks into his office, slams door behind him in a rage.

Priscilla sits down at the desk outside his office and begins

arranging the documents she's been carrying .

WEXELBLATT: Nobody has to tell me I'm superfluous around here; just like a broken fixture, not worth the trouble! Dave .. no, Fred. Fred, come over here and take over the controls from me for a few minutes. I'd better go into Pete's office to see what's up.

Fred replaces Wexelblatt at his console. Wexelblatt goes

over and knocks on Maywood's door; timidly at first, then with

force. WEXELBLATT: Open up, Peter, for Christ'sake!!

No response. Wexelblatt shrugs, starts to walk back to his

console. Maywood throws open the door of his office, steps out.

MAYWOOD: Arnold! Get the hell in here! ( To the others) We're not to be disturbed! For any reason! You got that! Not for a God-damned earthquake!

#100...

( Wexelblatt enters in his office. Once again the door is slammed shut.)

FRED: There won't be much to do if Queens isn't coming on line. Let's take our coffee break.

BOB: Isn't Linda handling that ? (Looks at watch) Where is she?

FRED: She's due back any minute now.DAVE: What about the Work Force?FRED: Thanks for reminding me. ( Presses an

Intercom button) Hello, Beth? Isn't it about time for their coffee break. It's on it's way? Good. Don't forget: 3 sugars for Esther. That's right; black for Kevin. Don't forget the decaf; we've got our share of diabetics. You know all that.

Fred switches off the Intercom. In a few minutes later the

mugs of beer on the conveyor belt are replaced by a procession

of paper cups holding coffee, tea, sodas, paper plates with

donuts, Danishes and other pastries. The belt comes to a stop

when each worker has his order in front of him.

FRED: (Muses) Coffee breaks! Danishes! Could anyone have imagined in the old dark days that bums would be getting free coffees and Danishes? We've come a long way from that ( Laughs) "Mission of the Holy Breath" !

CARL: It's the first successful method for treating alcoholism in all human history!

BOB: Our version 12 step program.

#101...

DAVE: That's the genius of free enterprise capitalism. Once Piss Power caught on, the laws of perfect competition in a free economy pushed the standard of living of bums everywhere through the roof!

BOB: Bums, my eye! They make more than most school-teachers!

FRED: Yes ... and deserve every penny of it. All school teachers have ever done is inculcate conformity... these folks are making electricity!

CARL: I'd join them if I didn't value my brains.BOB: What's that novel by Kurt Vonnegut ?DAVE: I know the one you mean: "Player Piano" BOB: That's right. Society evolves a double-tiered

caste system : engineers and drunks! FRED: Except that our drunks are happier than

his proles...FRED: There's Linda ... at last! (Linda enters

through the double doors, carting coffee break orders for the engineers.) Here she comes ... at last!

She distributes packages around, including one on Priscilla's desk. Starts to go to Maywood's office to deliver the orders for Wexelblatt and Maywood.

PRISCILLA: Don't go in there now, Linda. They've given strict orders not to be disturbed for anything.

LINDA: ( Incredulous) Not even for the coffee break?

#102...

PRISCILLA : (Whispers, imitates Maywood's manner ) "Not even for an earthquake"!

Linda puts the orders on Priscilla's desktop, starts to walk

back to her own desk Maywood throws open the door:

MAYWOOD: Let's have our coffees, you dunderhead!!

Maywood grabs the bags from her hands, then retreats

inside, once again slamming the door. Linda, hurt and insulted,

sits down at her desk and cries.

PRISCILLA: What's the matter, Linda? LINDA: It's nothing, really ... just the things

people are saying!DAVE: About us ? LINDA: (Nods her head) While I was waiting in

the luncheonette in Bridgehampton, I overheard a pair of truck drivers sitting at the counter. I couldn't believe my ears: Is it true what they're saying, that Long Island wants to secede from New York State and become part of New Jersey?

The engineers all start laughing.CARL: We did propose an idea like that, Linda. It

really does make a lot of sense. Of course we don't want to make it public right away . Also ...( makes a gesture in the direction of the balcony).. you understand...

#103...

DAVE : It stands to reason. Ever since converting to "organo-molecular power" , Long Island's been running its own affairs.

FRED: Guess what happened the minute Long Island told Con Ed to go take a powder. The standard of living on the island rose 15 per cent! Our local taxes keep the rest of New York State afloat. Why shouldn't we throw off the millstone around our necks?

LINDA: (Nods) That's what they were saying. I suppose you've heard about the governor's ultimatum..

BOB: Yes. Arnold got the news from Brooklyn. Tell us more.

LINDA: Well, just this morning, the governor of New York went on the radio. He's said that he intends to "free the slaves", in the "organo-molecular plantations", just like the way Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves in the South.

BOB: That's ridiculous! Skid Row is worse than slavery!

LINDA: Many people agree. After he heard the governor's speech, the mayor of Montauk telephoned the governor of New Jersey. He's sending in the militia!

FRED: The militia? Why, that's Civil War!

#104...

CARL: Hurrah! For God and New Jersey! I say, incorporate with New Jersey!

BOB: Or Connecticut, or anywhere else for that matter.

PRISCILLA: (Stands up, much agitated) I'm scared. I don't know about you but I'm leaving. I'm getting my kids out of school and going home.

LINDA: I'm with you all the way, Priscilla . (Both secretaries stand up and begin making preparations to leave)

DAVE: Suit yourselves. You are needed here, you know.

LINDA: If there's going to be a war I've got to stock up on sugar, flour, canned goods (Thinks) ...K9 Chow, toilet paper ... TV Guide ... I'd better go. Come on Priscilla, I'd drive you to the school. We can do our shopping on the way home. ( She and Priscilla leave.)

FRED: Okay, guys! Back to work! ( Engineers return to their consoles.) Go with it , Carl: switch the conveyor belt back on.

The belt once again begins moving. The procession of beer

mugs reappears. Plants returns to full operation.

Soon afterwards Maywood and Wexelblatt exit Maywood's

office. They walk across stage, engaged in heated argument.

WEXELBLATT: I can't believe it! Pete! You just caved in! Why the hell didn't you call me?

#105...

MAYWOOD: You couldn't have done anything, Arnold. Brookhaven's federal.

WEXELBLATT: Bullshit the feds! We kicked nuclear power off the island 3 years ago!

MAYWOOD: Everyone was afraid of nuclear power then. The nuclear power lobby is still very powerful. What does Washington care about public opinion? Con Ed put together a nuclear consortium that's managed to convince the Pentagon that Long Island's energy security shouldn't be left in the hands of Skid Row drunks!

WEXELBLATT: A joke! Are we any safer with nuclear engineers? What is this shit?

MAYWOOD: It's not shit, Arnold - we're in the shit! I haven't even told you the

Scene 3ENTER , in haste, through the double doors on the right :

from 6 to 10 soldiers of the NEW YORK STATE NATIONAL

GUARD. , armed with guns and pistols REVEREND BEAN ,

JASON, PORTNY HINCKMANN, and STANLEY ARBUTHNOT.

Bean carries the banner of the Mission of the Holy Breath.

Hinckmann and Arbuthnot are wearing uniforms from the

Second World War.

They quickly overpower Wexelblatt, Maywood, and the 4

engineers.

The curtain drops.

#106...

Scene 4The same. Here is the cast for

this scene:

NY STATE NATIONAL GUARD. 6 or more COMMANDERS: Reverend Bill Bean; Portny

Hinckmann, Stanley Arbuthnot.PRISONERS : Wexelblatt, Maywood, Carl, Bob,

Fred, Dave, BethWORK FORCE strapped into chairs on the

balcony: Curtis, Juan, Mike, Esther, Arthur, Bernice, Kevin.

Wexelblatt starts to fight with one of the soldiers. He

raises his rifle butt, but is stopped by Hinckmann.

HINCKMANN: Put that thing down, for heaven's sake! Touch him and I'll ... er .. have you court-martialed ..urp .. We need him! (Extends his right hand towards Wexelblatt. It is pointedly refused ) I would hazard to guess sir , that this is the very first time we've met in ..well... "socially" you might say ..uh ... Professor Wexelblatt, I respect you highly .. A brilliant engineer! A splendid businessman! A worthy competitor!

WEXELBLATT: It takes real hutsbah to call it competition when you're dealing with bunglers!

#107...

ARBUTHNOT: Shaddup, you twerp! Soldier, keep dat rifle butt over dat guy's head!

HINCKMANN: I said: put that rifle down, for goodness sake! My good man! Please don't disparage yourselves! You're hardly bunglers!

WEXELBLATT: You've got it ass backwards, as usual

HINCKMANN: ..Urp ... Mmmmm ...BEAN: What you greedy heathens think hardly

matters; we've turned the tables on your low schemes, praise God!

MAYWOOD: Gentlemen! Gentlemen, please! The anxieties are over-extended enough without adding more strain. Pull yourselves together, for God's sake! I'm all for negotiation...

ARBUTHNOT: You shaddup too!BEAN: (Looks around) Is there any way to shut off

this equipment? There must be a master switch somewhere.

MAYWOOD: Yes. Let me do it. He walks to a huge switch on the back wall behind the

Urine Tanks. Wexelblatt blocks his passage.

WEXELBLATT: Over my dead body! Wexelblatt is yanked back by a soldier who keeps him in a

choke hold.

MAYWOOD: You still don't understand, Arnold. They hold all the cards. I tried to warn you.

#108...

Maywood grasps the lever on the switch and pulls it down.

The lights dim immediately but do not go out entirely. The

color TV and music stop. The conveyor belt grinds to a halt and

all the computer consoles go dead.

BEAN: Why didn't all the lights go off? MAYWOOD: There's some residual energy stored

in the condensers. There should be a total blackout within half an hour.

ARBUTHNOT (Pointing to the Work Force): What about dem?

BEAN: Those sinners? Let them stay tied up.HINCKMANN: Perhaps ... uh ..BEAN: We can't waste time worrying about that

scum, Portny. We've got work to do. ( On a signal from Bean the soldier releases his choke hold on Wexelblatt. ) So! Dr. Arnold Wexelblatt I presume! Did you really imagine you could continue to defy the laws of Man and God?

WEXELBLATT (Squinting): Who the hell are you?BEAN: We've already met, Dr. Wexelblatt - Dr.

Arnold Wexelblatt. You just don't recognize me. You and your panders often encountered me in the old days, when you were looting my Mission for slaves. Bill Bean's the name. You can just call me, "Reverend".

WEXELBLATT: Yes, now I remember you. You should know better than I do Reverend, that there's only one law in this land: it's called Profit !

#109...

BEAN: (Snickers ) : He should go into the religion business.

HINCKMANN: Are you certain, sir, that you don't want to work for us? I'm authorized to offer you, and Dr. Maywood here , major executive positions at Con Ed. Name you figure! I can personally promise you early retirement , a generous benefits package, a ... um..and so forth and so on ... well, what do you say?

MAYWOOD (Steps forward and shakes Hinckmann's hand): Sounds good to me!

WEXELBLATT: Why, you dirty dog! You coward! Why, you low traitor!

(Arbuthnot kicks him in the shins)ARBUTHNOT: Shaddup Wexelberg ! He ain't a

dirty stinking louse like you! WEXELBLATT: We built this company up from

food stamps! I'll be damned if I'm ever going back to selling my brains to morons!

MAYWOOD: I ..ahem! am not so convinced of the excellence of my gray matter ... There is no masochism in my submission, Mr. Hinckmann. ( Goes to the banner on the wall, rips out the letters MAY in Mayblatt Utilities.) See how eagerly I sublimate the "MAY" in Mayblatt! Why don;t you come over here, "Bethy" ...?

Beth is released, walks over to him. They embrace.

Wexelblatt is stunned.

#110...

BETH: Arnold, we just didn't know how to tell you, Arnold. MAYWOOD: It's a difficult situation, I don't deny it.

BETH (Crying): It isn't too late, Arnold! Only you'll never change!

WEXELBLATT: (To Beth) How could you do this to me? (To Maywood) But - what about Clair?

MAYWOOD: She's been, well, 'packed off' to a long vacation in Florida. She'll be told the news when she comes back in a month.

WEXELBLATT: And the kids? You two-bit social psychologist, don't you even feel guilty?

MAYWOOD: Arnold, you've touched on a controversial issue. haven't you? There's a lot of debate going on right now in the professional journals about that sort of thing. In my opinion it boils down to -well, it's a tough decision - Should we weigh the traumatic damage cause by a abrupt break with the past, against imprisonment in a sick family atmosphere filled with loathing and contempt ...

WEXELBLATT : You filthy sneak! Paskudnyak! Momser! Years ago, when you came howling to me in the Bagel Nosh, begging me for a purpose in life, some reason for not committing suicide! You know what I thought of you then ? You looked just like a little dog. Like a little whipped puppy ! I should have sent you home with your tail between your legs!

#111...

MAYWOOD: (Self-deprecating): What can I say? It's all true. But you have to admit, Arnold, that you haven't gotten any better over the years either. (Ticks off points) There's your infantile conceit. Your insufferable manner. Your complete irresponsibility in crisis. Your obsessive nit-picking. Your temper tantrums (Sighs) ... You're an ego-maniac, Arnold! (Sighs) There isn't time to go into it ...

WEXELBLATT: And Beth, you agree with all this tommy-rot?

BETH: Yes Arnold, I do. There's something all frozen up inside of you. I've really come to believe you're just incapable of feeling anything. You don't know what love is, you never will know! Human beings are just .... "bugs" to you! Just a lot of bugs, like the wires in your computers! That's what fascinates you : machines, and equations, and blueprints, and money and ... All of us, we're just .. "bugs" .. helpless insects in the tentacles of that jellyfish brain of yours! ( Sobs) At least Peter knows what love is!

WEXELBLATT: How long has this been going on?MAYWOOD: Years, Arnold. We were waiting for

Queens to go piss-electric before pulling the plug. WEXELBLATT: All right, you bastards! Take my

wife; destroy my business; put me in jail. Kill me ! What the hell do I care? You'll never get my brains! Never! Not my talents! Not my imagination!

#112...

If being honest sounds like boasting, okay! I'm boasting! Believe me, Hinckydoodle: I can put Con Ed back on its feet in less than 3 years.

HINCKMANN: Why, Professor! That's just why we want to hire you! We'll pay you a king's ransom! I'm begging you: come work for us!

WEXELBLATT: (Shrugs dismissively): You're washed up. Portny. (Arbuthnot shakes his fist in Wexelblatt's face.)

HINCKMANN: There's definitely something wrong here. This Dr. Maywood here , running off with the wife of his business partner ... Bad sportsmanship.

BEAN : It's worse than that, Portny. It's .... adultery ! The most sacred of all the 10 commandments: Thou shalt not commit adultery ! But that's not your problem, Arnold: you're not the sinner. You need not apologize to your maker. What do you say? Why not accept Portny's offer?

WEXELBLATT: You'll see me in your soup line, first, Reverend.

BEAN: (To Hinckmann): The man is being obstinate. That same obstinacy that has kept the godless Jews over the millennia from accepting the one true Lord! ( Hesitates no longer) All right, men !

The double doors open. Enter SOLDIERS carrying 4

ELECTRIC CHAIRS. They line up the chairs in a row across the

stage. The chairs are installed. Military engineers install the

#113...

chairs and run about the stage looking for extension cords, and

outlets in which to assert various plugs. One of them seats

himself at Wexelblatt's console and tries to make it active,

without success.

ENGINEER: The power's dead. JASON ( to Bean) : They wonts run without juice,

sir. BEAN: (To engineer) : What's your suggestion?ENGINEER: Dunno. Restore the power I guess .

An hour or so should do it. HINCKMANN: That is ... er ... rather a dilemma,

Bill. Shouldn't you reconsider?BEAN: No. All their lives they have thumbed

their noses at everything holy . Now they're going to pay.

HINCKMANN: Oh my ... the stockholders won't like it.

BEAN: You can't satisfy everybody .Should not this engine of Belial be the means of destruction for its deluded inventors?

HINCKMANN: Well.. I just don't know.. It's all over my head .. ( Sits down, tired, confused, covers his head with his arms.)

BEAN: I, on the other hand, do not hesitate to transmit the just decrees of a jealous God! They have sat in the seat of the scornful! They have blasphemed against the Most High! Like that evil idol of old,

#114...

Moloch!, they have ( pointing to the Work Force on the balcony), devoured the innocent babes !

They shall be chained to a rock in Hell for all Eternity ! There will be no pension plans for them ! No paid vacations! No sick leaves! No honeyed liquor will be given to them to mask the bitter draught!

WEXELBLATT: Will we be allowed a chance to reply to your obscene rant, Bean ?

BEAN: (Mocking) "Professor" Wexelblatt - you've had 10 years to prepare your defense. Charity - Christian charity - obliges me to give you time to find some sort of "God" to pray to. Only you'd better hurry up. The fiendish torments awaiting you in Hell should begin in just a few minutes.

MAYWOOD ( Finally grasping the situation) : Do you mean to say that ... those .. Electric Chairs .. are .. for us ?

Makes a wild dash for the Exit. Is knocked down by a

soldier

FRED: By what legal authority are you our executioners?

BEAN: This is my authority! ( Produces an official-looking document). All of Long Island is under martial law ! As commander of this military body I am empowered to deliver military justice. And I condemn all of you, in the name of civil law, martial law, and - and GOD's law!! ( Carl faints)

#115...

ARBUTHNOT: Now we're gettin' some action! Dis shoulda been done long ago.

BEAN ( consulting his watch) : We're wasting time. I'm due back at the Mission for Vespers. Officer, is the power up to strength?

ENGINEER: Yes; we can proceed.BEAN: These four go first ( Indicates the

engineers) Strap them in, men. Soldiers seize Fred, Bob, Dave and Carl, (who is lifted off

the floor, unconscious.) They strap them into the electric

chairs in a manner than strongly recalls the way that the

alcoholics were strapped into their chairs. From the balcony the

Work Force shouts ridicule :BERNICE (Mocking) : Ow! Ow! Ow! My leg clamp

is loose!JUAN: Sirs - you must come up here an feex ze

feez'yologie seestimz ! KEVIN: Hey, Arnold old chap! You got a bug in

your A-register?ARTHUR: Seems to me dere's smells like

barbeque pork chops around de place, don't it?ESTHER : Ouch! My straps too tight! Get away

from me , you dirty oaf!! Ha, ha, ha!MIKE: Give all of 'em chocolate bars so's they

feels better!

#116...

Song Of Vengeance I(To be sung in chorus)

To all youse good fellows , we toasts !Let us drink while youse sizzles and roasts!

Here's to youse jolly, jolly engineers(Jolly, jolly engineers)

As we throws back a couple of beers(Coupl'ah beers!)

Pour out some more liquor for dose evil hogs(Evil , evil hogs)

Shoot lightnin' bolts trou dose dirty dogs!( Dirty, dirty dogs)

To all youse good fellows , we toasts !Let us drink while youse sizzles and roasts!Repeat as needed, as long as the engineers are being

strapped in BEAN: (Ostentatiously examines his wrist-watch):

You are granted 5 minutes to pray for the salvation of your souls. Have you any final words to say in your defence?

DAVE: Don't do this to us! We're the innocent ones!

FRED: We weren't the ones in charge!BOB: We were just following orders! (Wexelblatt

guffaws) FRED: Please let us go! Please! Oh my God!!

#117...

BEAN: Aha!! You're calling out to your maker, for once in your wretched lives ! (Looks at watch again) Unfortunately your time is up. Okay Jason. Throw the switch.

JASON: Yes sir! This will be a pleasure , sir! They don't fears God.

Jason goes to the back wall and raises the main switch.

Smoke and fire fly out of the electric chairs. Horrible screams.

The four engineers are electrocuted.

BEAN: I will scourge them with a rod of iron! Thus sayeth the Lord Thy God !! Before and during the electrocution the Work Force sings:

#118...

Song Of Vengeance II

Sparks, fire and smoke! Fire and smoke!Frying flesh and broiling fatsGrilling hocks and stinking bones!Angry gasps and helpless moans!Twitching limbs in urine vats!

Sparks, fire and smoke! Fire and smoke!Singeing scalps and flaming tongues!Charcoal livers, blazing lungs!Bleeding carcasses that frySizzling as they roast and die!( Repeat as needed)

BEAN: Good job, Jason. Ah, what joy it is, to toil in the vineyards of the Lord! ( Gets down on his knees and prays) Dear Lord Jesus, receive these burnt offerings upon thy holy altar!! ( Stands up, dusts himself off)

KEVIN: Sweet Jesus!JUAN: Madre de Dios! BERNICE: There ain't no place on my body that

ain't been pawed by those engineers! I'm glad their dead!

ESTHER: Me, too! They weren't even human! They must have been demons, or monsters!

ARTHUR: Dey got what dey asked for, dose lousy cock-suckers! Dere ain't been a day in dis place I ain't been sick as a dog from dat beer!

#119...

BEAN: Now for the rest of them. ( Indicates Wexelblatt) Put him there. Beth over there. Maywood can sit next to his harlot.

Maywood, Wexelblatt and Beth are strapped into the

chairs, while the Work Force repeats Songs of Vengeance I and

II .

WEXELBLATT (Shouts loudly enough to be heard over the voices of the Work Force. At a certain moment in his speech they all realize that what he's saying to them is important, and they stop singing and listen ): Fellow workers! (Derisive laughter ) Listen to me! Just listen for a minute! Don't let those louses trick you again! Don't let them make fools of you! It's always been the same old story! Always has been and always will be!

Take a good look at them! Go on, look them over carefully. They're the people who made you sleep on the dogshit on Third Avenue! They're the goons who humiliated you with handouts and sermons! Can't you see who they are? They're the bosses! The police! The preachers! All of those wonderful people who use your misery to make themselves fat!

KEVIN: Seems t'me you is pretty fat yerself, Axelblot!

WEXELBLATT: Hey there, Kevin! You remember Reverend Bean, don't you?

#120...

ARTHUR: Once in awhile we gots whiskey in doz days!

WEXELBLATT: Hello, Arthur: what about the rotten meat, what about the cold slop you drank at the Mission of the Holy Breath? And you there, Curtis, remember all those broken bones? Those operations? Those stays in the hospitals? You too, Bernice: when's the last time you had to fight off a rapist? A mugger? Play ball with these people and you'll be sent back to their smelly dormitories, to bedbugs and cockroaches, to getting your heads busted in saloons..... ( Stanley Arbuthnot gives him a solid kick)

BEAN: We've heard just about enough of your bull, Wexelblatt!

KEVIN: I say de boss is right! We's bein' duped! ESTHER: This ain't such a bad place. What they

fed us in the Missions was garbage! BERNICE (Hides face in hands): It was horrible!

Horrible! I'll never go back to the Missions!JUAN: What he saez iz true! Arnold, he eez a

peeg . But Bean, he is worse than a peeg. He eez a miracon !

CURTIS : It don't make no difference to me. But if youse all don't wants de bosses to get fried, my advice is dat we all stop drinkin' - and pissin' !

MIKE: Dat's right! If we all stop pissin', dey can't make de juice for de electric chairs!

#121...

ESTHER: Well, if we're going to do it, we have to do it right away!

ARTHUR: Say - Youse heard what de lady said, comrades: Stop pissin' !!

They do. The lights instantly dim.JASON: When do we gives them the juice,

Revered Bean?BEAN: Hold on a minute, Jason. We seem to have

a rebellion on our hands. ( To the Technician) What do you think?

ENGINEER : (Examines the lights on the console) We're losing power rapidly. (Disappears under the console to check some other instruments. Comes back out) We won't be able to kill them, but we can sure make them suffer like hell!

BEAN: Well, that's something anyway. Go ahead.HINCKMANN: ( Stands up) Reverend Bean, I

protest! I, er, will not have these .. um.. 'professional men ' ... tortured !! (Strides to the back wall, takes the lever of the main switch out of Jason's hands). Bill, this command is shared equally between us. And this technician (indicates the man at the console) happens to take his orders from me!

BEAN: Okay Portny. Okay ...whatever you say. The bums can't hold out forever. Man's urge to piss is almost as strong as his thirst for salvation!

The stage is plunged into darkness

#122...

Scene 5The same. one hour later. The stage is almost entirely

dark; the dim light which allows the audience to make out

what's happening. Moans of agony from the balcony as the

Work Force strives to keep from urinating

CURTIS: Aaaaaaghhh! Whew! I'm an old man! I ain't got de strength no more. Aaaaaagghhh!

KEVIN ( Holding his crotch, in evident pain): Hang in there, old timer. Every second counts! Ah! Oooooohhh!

BEAN: Hey Kevin, why don't you give up? There's a bed waiting for you at the Mission.

HINCKMAN: They've held out for an hour. I see no signs that they intend to give up.

ESTHER: Ohhhhhheueueui ! Oh, but it's hard to go against the call of nature! I should have retired years ago! Ohhheueueueuii!

KEVIN: Be brave, mates! Help is on the way! Ahhhoyoyo! Oooohhh!

MIKE: Ahh! OHHH! Aaa eieie! Hah! Hah! Ooooohhh!

JUAN: Eeeee! Oyoyoyoyoyo! Hah! Ah. Oyoooyoo!BERNICE: Ohhohohohohoh!! Ahhhh!

#123...

ENGINEER: ( Examines console with a flashlight). No one's cracked, sir. I don't see how they can stand it.

HINCKMANN: Such devotion would be inconceivable at Con Ed.

JASON: Sir, I have an idea. ( Jason walks across stage to a bathroom. In a moment one hears the sound of water rushing through spickots opened to full force. He gropes his way back in the dark). That oughta wear down their resistance.

BEAN: Jason, you're a genius.JASON: If you gotta go, you gotta go.ARBUTHNOT: Dere kidneys is weakened by booze.

It's comin' any minute now.HINCKMANN: If I had my way, these brave people

would all get medals for loyalty!BEAN: Save your compassion, Portny. They're just

bums, bums through and through. There's a saying on the Bowery: they're lower than whale shit, and that's at the bottom of the ocean.

BERNICE ( With a piercing cry of pain) I can't help myself! I can't! I can't stop! I have to let it out! Aiiiiiiehghghg! Airrrgghhhh!

KEVIN: Oh no you don't , sweetie! ( Kevin has worked himself free from his straps. He reaches over, grabs Bernice by the throat, and strangles her to death.) The Bowery's worse than death, princess !

#124...

Consider yourself lucky! ( Holding onto her throat with one hand, he reaches under her dress and yanks out the hose pipe with the other. It clatters to the floor.) Nobody ain't gonna' threaten my job security!

BEAN: (Screams) Get him down from there, at once!!

The double doors suddenly open. ENTER : A dozen

members of the New Jersey State National Guard . Its

commander is MAJOR BRINK. They carry spot lights, which

illuminate the stage. They hold guns, some with fixed bayonets .

Scene 6BRINK: I claim this factory for the state of New

Jersey! I command you all to surrender! Lay down your arms at once! Resistance is useless! Stay calm and you will not be harmed! Okay men, disarm them.

KEVIN: Get de bosses outa'deh hot seats, so's we can piss, for Godssake !!

BRINK: Do what he says, men. Release them, and hurry up.

Soldiers untie Wexelblatt, Maywood and Beth. With an

enormous collective sigh of relief, the WORK FORCE expels its

bladders.

WORK FORCE : AHHHHHHHHHHHHH !

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Lights flash all over the place. The power is back on. The

moment Wexelblatt is released he pulls a pistol from the holster

of one of the soldiers. Before anyone can stop him he has

emptied bullets into Maywood and Arbuthnot. Then he grabs

Beth as a human shield, applying the gun to her neck.

WEXELBLATT: Everybody stand back! Drop your guns, all of you! ( Heists a fresh pistol from one of the soldiers) Bean! You! Hinckmann! Major Brink, put them into the electric chairs ! Soldiers! Tie them up!

BETH: You're insane, Arnold.WEXELBLATT: So what? I'm in control. That's all

that counts He drags Beth towards the wall switch at the back. His

right hand holds the gun, his left grasps the switch. Mike has

worked himself free from the straps and has crawled along the

balcony with a stein of beer in his hands. A soldier moves

towards Wexelblatt

WEXELBLATT: Stand back, I said ! You're too close!

The soldier retreats. Wexelblatt's left hand starts to lower

the lever. At the critical moment Mike drops a stream of beer

from the mug down on Wexelblatt's head. It produces a short

circuit. Wexelblatt is electrocuted midst gruesome howls,

sparks and smoke.

WEXELBLATT : AIIIIIIARRRGHHHHH!

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Beth runs towards Major Brink, who holds her in a tight

grip and leads her to a chair. She breaks down in wails. BETH: Poor Arnold! Poor, poor Arnold! Poor

burnt Arnold. How could he have known he would end up as a sacrifice on the altar of science! How much I came to hate him! Hate him! My poor, poor Arnold! How could they do this to you? He would have wanted this death, but my heart is broken forever...I would have followed you to the grave, Arnold, but you refused to listen! . You didn't want to hear anything I tried to tell you. Now it's too late ...too late ...

BEAN ( Strapped in the electric chair, waves his arms , elated) : We've won! Men, this victory is God's victory ! It will go down in history! Atheism has made its last stand. God rules supreme ! ( Stares at the soldiers of the New York and New Jersey National Guards in surprise.) All right, you can release us now, men . (The soldiers stand around, apathetic and restless) Soldiers of New York! Soldiers of New Jersey! I command you to free us.( No reaction. Beth looks on with horror) Release us at once! Under penalty of court-martial! At once! ( No reaction) Holy Jesus ...My God, what's going on here? Release me immediately ! That's a direct order!

HINCKMAN: You've heard what the reverend said. Honored members of the victorious militias of two

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great states .. the two greatest states in the nation, I dare say .... Don't just stand there. Release us immediately!

BEAN: Why! This is treason! Get us out of these things ! Now! Now! Now! (Shocked silence ) Help!! Help!! Damn you to hell, you cock-sucking dogs!!

Ominous silence. The soldiers have come together in

groups and are regarding them with menace. Major Brink gives

a signal by waving his hand, and Jason goes out through a door

to the left.

Now a group of soldiers begin moving in goose-step

formation towards the Urine Processing Tanks. Other soldiers

run into Maywood's office and come out with a dozen or more

chairs. These are ranged around the Tank. Soldiers stand up on

the chairs, unzip their flies and begin pissing directly into it .

SOLDIERS: -Ah! That feels good!-New York uber alles!-New Jersey uber alles!-Man the battle stations!-Every man must do his duty by his

country!-Hey soldier! You aren't pissing

enough!Do you call that patriotism?-Can't you see how hard I'm trying?

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BEAN: I'll have you all shot for treason! (Laughter coming from everywhere) God will punish you, once I get my hands on you !!

The Work Force are singing again, mixing verses from the

Songs of Vengeance with familiar drinking songs like "The

Drunken Sailor" , hymns like "Onward Christian Soldiers" and

others. The soldiers join in. Jason re-enters from the left,

dragging along barrels of beer:

JASON: Lotsa beer, boys! Plenty for everybody! Drink up!

Soldiers help him drag the barrels to center stage. Then

he and they run through the door to the left to get more. A

continual coming and going is maintained between the store

rooms, the urine tank and the barrels of beer.

A soldier seizes Beth and drags her down to the floor.

Other soldiers pile on top. The scene builds up to a climax. At a

signal from Major Brink, a soldier goes to the back wall and

throws the main switch.

Bean and Hinckman die in agony . Screams, sparks,

smoke...

Curtain

Scene 7There are only a few spotlights down stage. The rest have

been moved to the balcony where soldiers are moving about,

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freeing the alcoholics from their bonds. Bernice's corpse is

carried off the platform. As each alcoholic is released, he or she

is helped to doors on the right and left exiting the platform.

Finally only Esther remains. She recites a monologue :

ESTHER: Who's complaining? You only live once. My mother told me, when I was just a little girl , you're never too old to feel the bedbugs. And that's been my philosophy all my life.

I'm an old woman now. I'm past forty! But I've never forgotten what my mother told me. Even when I was a little baby, I remember what she said! , I'd remember what my father told me too, except he was killed by a drunk policeman !

I"ve never understood why they put me in this place. It pays the rent, and that's all I care about. Listen! I don't bother with silly questions. You know, you can get into a lot of trouble just by asking questions! I once asked a man why he was pretending he was a doctor. I knew he wasn't a doctor, he was an F.B.I. agent! And do you know what happened next? I lost my house! A twenty-five room castle out in California, with servants and maids, and even a butler! No wonder it's so hard to make a living ! There's runaway inflation everywhere!

Wasn't that exciting! Screams and shouting, guns going off, smoke, and sparks, and boyoboy! What a thrill! I saw it all in a movie ten years ago. And

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murder! Boy! Let me tell you a thing or two about murder. Last year, the number of murders in New York City alone was greater than the number of people in all of Brooklyn ! Well, about the same. And people are murdered more than once! I know, because that's what happened to me! I was dead, and then I became alive again. And I'm going to be murdered again, just as soon as I get out of here. I've got witnesses! ....

If I ever get out of this place, anything can happen, but if I do ..., I'm going to open up a little shop where people can buy ribbons, needles, buttons and thread ... I've got to have security for my old age! Just yesterday I met an old lady who was living on a pension. She got that pension because of something she did during the war. She was sitting all alone by herself in a restaurant, breaking her bread into her soup.

So! I asked her: "What are you doing that for?" And she looked at me with for the first time , and, golly gee!, did she have strange eyes! They looked like the eyes of that black cat that used to sit on the fence in my back yard. And she said to me (Whispers) : "Don't bother me, I'm a very old lady!"

" How long have you been an old lady?", I asked her. Then she told me that she retired before the war. "You must be very old!" I said, "You must be ancient!"

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"That's right!", she told me, " And I haven't got a penny to my name. I lost it all on the stock market. "

How could anybody be so stupid? "You weren't thrifty!", I said, " but at least you've got your nephew in Australia to look after you." That's when I realized there was something really wrong with her!

" I ain't got no relatives in Australia, lady! Who told you that?" That's when I knew for sure she was a criminal! I ran out of there fast!

How did I know she had a nephew in Australia ? I'll tell you ... ( The soldiers have finished untying Esther and start leading her towards one of the exit doors. ) ... I read about her brother in the newspapers! Everybody except she and her brother had died in a terrible fire, and they had to go begging around the neighborhood!! ....Then her brother went to Australia, got married and had a big family

I've never had to beg! Never! I've done terrible things in my life, but not that! And, well, maybe if I did beg, I'd never lie to anybody, or make up stories. I wouldn't give a penny neither, to some dirty pan-handler! So, about this lady in the restaurant: I let her have it! I gave her a piece of my mind! Here's what I said ... ( Soldiers lead Esther out the door.)

CurtainThe End

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