HUMANITIS
349
BUMMIDGE :
Quickly, to the top. I have agents, bodyguards, white
Dusenberg. Chauffeur. Dark glasses. Camel's hair coat.
(Juts out his
behind and struts with self importance)
Best seats
in
the Garden.
Races. Tailors. Special barbers. Custom-made cigars. Ten million
fans. When I change my pants it's in the paper. When I cross the
street somebody puts a Christopher medal in my hand. But I am
restless. I have hurnanitis. My success is empty. My life is not real.
Oh, how can I pull the plug and let the dirty water out of my
soul. Value, value, give me value. Oh, for some substance. Men and
brethren, I make you laugh. But let us ... let us Agh! Gagh!
SHELDON:
That his emotional attack.
BUMMIDGE:
And don't corne near. Alone! Not you! Not me!
(Again
to television)
This portion of the presentation
is
unplanned.
MOTI:
That's true, ladies and gentlemen.
BUMMIDGE:
Making all the rules. My enemies are those who won't do
as I say. My terms or nothing. A law unto myself. It's a unrehearsed
confession. I want to confess my vanity and pride. I'm staggered.
I didn't like the world. I made up another. And angry with people
because they had a different version. . . . Dared to differ. . . . Bum–
is
a mad tyrant. And humanitis! The first birth is awful. But the
second is from your own empty heart... .It, it..
Ringing.
MOTI
answers.
MOTI:
Yes? Okay. We're off the air now, Bummy. You'd better lie
down awhile.
(Leads him to couch)
