~
244
RONALD TAVel
JOE: Oh, well - black, white, yellow or red - they
all
have
one
little brown spot - and that's all that interests me!
MIKEY : You see, Mikie, Joe doesn't waste any time, he gets right
down to the heart of the matter. That's why he's such a good
business man.
Jo: Yes, Joe
is
coming up in the world.
MIKIE
(annoyed):
Are those coffees coming up?
JOE: My last meal
is
coming up.
MIKm: So you go in for exotic types?
JOE
(downstage, into a spotlight) :
Well,
I
go down for exotic
types.
Like Mexicans, for example.
I
just love those Mexican
peasants
in their full white costumes - you know the kind
I
mean,
Har–
vey - the ones all
in
white, like they just got thrown out
of a
pajama party or something.
Jo: Joe darling,
I
don't believe a word you're saying.
JOE: That's always the trouble, Jo darling,
I
don't have time -
I
just don't have time to be believed.
MlKm
(on
MIKEY'S
lap):
I
hope you enjoy your coffee, Mikey.
MIKEY
(stupidly):
I
hope you enjoy yours, too, Mikie.
Jo
brings the coffees to the table and manages to spill a cupful
of the liquid onto
MlKm
and
MIKEY. JOE
leaps off the stage.
JOE: Calamite! Au secours!! Catastrophe! Scalding crotch!!!
Jo: Oh, Mikie, I'm sorry, I'm dreadfully sorry!
JOE
(leaping back up on the stage):
Scalding crotch! Oh, your
poor
yummy-yummy!!
(etc., etc.).
Jo
(shouting above the din):
Could
I
get everybody some layer
cake?
JOE
(startled):
I
beg your par-doon?!
Jo:
I
said some layer cake.
JOE: That's exactly what
I
thought you said, my dear. Come
on,
everybody, let's get some layer cake!
There is a frantic scramble for position as
Jo
exits upstage left;
MIKIE
sits on the commode,
JOE
on the upstage chair,
MIKEY
on the downstage box. Long, uncomfortable silence. Fidgeting.
JOE
(to
MIKm,
mumbling):
Can't you afford a better place?
Jo
(reentering with an enormous four-tier layer cake, annoyed in the
extreme):
Hom and Hard-on! - the only thing automatic about
them
is
their monthly rise in prices!
