HUt.4ANITIS
335
SHELDON:
Thief. Goniff.
BUMMIDGE:
Ouch, Pa, you'll twist my ear off-Harder, Sheldon, don't
just grip, twist. I've got to feel the pain.
MOTT:
Turn it on, Sheldon.
BUMMIDGE:
(Shrieks)
That's it. Unbearable. I haven't felt this in forty
years.
(Supplicating)
Papa, Papa, don't hurt me. I'm just a
child.
I'm hungry for sweet candy like the other children. It's the pleasure
principle. It's Eros. Eros against Death.
MOTT:
Give me your father's first name....
BUMMIDGE:
Boris.
MOTT:
(Falsetto)
Boris, don't hurt the boy.
SHELDON:
(After
BUMMIDGE
has coached him satta voce)
My son, a
crook?
BUMMIDGE:
No Sheldon, his voice was deep. Papa had a ballsy voice.
(Basso)
A boy already thirteen. At thirteen I was already in the cap
factory, bringing home pay. God helped, I got a little business, so I
owe everybody. All day I'm standing on my kalletchete feet. With
gall bladder. With blood pressure selling egg cream, mushmellows,
funny papers, soda, dreck, gumballs. And you-loafer! The head lies in
idleness? Got to eat candy? Stealing? I bring up an honest man, or
I kill you.
(As
twelve~e'ar-old)
But Papa, darling papa, what can
I do? I have human nature. I inherit it from you. My instinct says
"Take a little candy, my child. Have a little comfort, life is so bitter
and dark. Tohu bohu in America. Go in the toilet, and have a little
joy. It gets me right under the jaw, like a needle, and my mouth
waters. It was only one Mary Jane." And Papa says, "You be a
mensch or I kill you. What are you, a dog? A chicken? Sonofabitch,
sooner than bring up a stealer, I kill you!"-Imogen, have you got
that?
IMOGEN:
Every word.
BUMMIDGE :
I want to get my hands on the veil of infantile amnesia
and pull it down. And then I'll see--the great trauma, the hidden
secret of my life. Oh....
(he totters)
SHELDON:
What's the matter, boss?
BUMMIDGE:
The pig, the white pig in my dream. I think it's Bella.
WINKLEMAN:
Well, let's take a little break now. I've got to talk business
with Bummy.
IMOGEN:
There's coffee in the kitchen.
SHELDON:
You okay, boss?
WINKLEMAN:
Go on, beat it you mothering palooks. He pities himself
enough. You trying
to
compete?
