July 28, 1945


 


July 28, 1945


 Act 1. Scene 1. Page 1


Place: Our lavish 1 1/2 room apartment overlooking Milwaukee Ave. at Paulina St.


Time: Some evening after the war. 


 I come struggling up the fourth flight of stairs after a hard day at the salt mines. I am weary and hungry. I fumble with the keys and finally get the door open. I enter:


Me: Hiya Petunia!


You: Did you remember to bring the bottle?


Me: Righto (extracting a bottle from my warm pocket)


You: Wanta drink?


Me: Roger!


You: Here's dirt in your ears!


Me: Hmmph!


Me: What's for supper?


You: Go take a look.


I extend my right arm, open a curtain and look on the sterno stove. There are three pots steaming away. I remove all three lids and look. A horrible expression comes to my face. In order, the pots contain cod fish stew, boiled carrots, and potato soup. I shudder!


Me: Darling!


You: What?


Me: Didn't I tell you never to have cod fish stew, boiled carrots and potato soup?


You: Is that what it was that you didn't like?


Me: Yes!


You: Oh!


Me: This of course, is it!


You: Have mercy!


Me: Fiddle Faddle!


I pick up a handy skillet and start beating out back beat boogie.


You: EEEK!


Me: Hmmph!


You flitter gracefully to the floor singing "don't bash me in" . Your eyelids flicker then all is quiet.


End of Act 1


Act 2 Same Scene


Me: (thinking aloud) Hmmm, I suppose I should tell her father. He's always interested in our latest gags. I walk through blood to the telephone and look around for a lead nickel, find one and dial the number.


Me: Hello!


CM: Hello!


Me: Ahoy CM, this is RJ


CM: RJ?


Me: Yes, the one with your daughter.


CM: Oh that one.


Me: I have news!


CM: Say, you ought to see my latest gadget.


Me: Oh!


CM: this one's the best yet.


Me: Oh!


CM: A radio controlled radio


Me: Astounding CM, However do you think them up


CM: (bashfully) Oh I don't know I guess it's a knack.


Me: you're quite the kid CM!


CM: Purr Purr Purr


Me: Oh yes, I called to tell you of the latest news.


CM: What would that be?


Me: This might strike you as being quaint!


CM: Nonsense I b een married too long.


Me: It's about Shirl


CM: What ho!


Me: At 5:37 pm I massaged her head 63 times with an 8 inch skillet.


CM: 63 times?


Me: Yep.


CM: 8 inch skillet


Me: Roger


CM: Anything break?


Me: Her head.


CM: Messy?


Me: Rather


CM: Tchach


Me: Quite!


CM: I just figured it out if you had used a ten inch skillet you would have only hit her 37 times to acquire the same purpose.


Me: I was rather in a hurry.


CM: That's the trouble with you young people, always rushing. If you had figured it out you could have saved 26 blows. 


Me: I'm sorry.


CM: Oh well, you'll learn.


Me: I hope so.


CM: By the way, I hope you know that this breaks us up socially.


Me: I was afraid you'd take it this way. 


CM: Well, afterall, what would people say?


Me: I understand. By the way how's Adleine?


CM: Ugh!


Me: Oh!


CM: Anything else news?


Me: Not that I can think of.


CM: I guess things are dull all over.


Me: It seems that way.


CM: It's about time for my singing lessons so if you don't mind --


Me: Oh yes, Of course.


CM: Goodbye Old Son.


Me: Farewell!


CM: Bon Jour!


Me: Au Revoir!


CM: Toodle OO!


Me: So long!


CM: Adios!


I hang up the phone and look disturbed.


End of act 2  

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