I Don't See Why Not
By paborama
- 1318 reads
I don't see why not.
Starring : jon & joey
(Open on a lounge-room, Joey stands at side with 'phone and table.)
Joey
...Well, yes, Mrs. Wannamaker, I can see how that would fit; but I still can't make the eight-fifteen tomorrow evening - I have worms to catch, people to fumble. How about you review those antics and meet me out for coffee on Saturday as usual when we'll talk about it all...Yes, Mrs. Wannamaker, goodbye to you too. (He replaces the receiver) Confounded pipsqueak of a woman. (He puts a digestive between his teeth and begins to do press-ups)
(Doorbell) (Mother!? (Gets up and exits SL. Enters, followed by Jon.)
Jon
Bet you thought I was your mother, didn't you?
Joey
There was a certain familiar quality to your tinkle, but I'm always getting my parents and my porkers in a twist, Jon.
Jon
"Porkers", Joey?
Joey
Pork-pate - mate.
Jon
Oh, indeed? Oh indeed, indeed, indeedodydoday.
(Doorbell rings)
Joey
Mother!? (He leaves and returns with a small parcel)...It was postman George, he had this for me.
Jon
'Postman George'?
Joey
yes, we call him that because his name's 'George'.
Jon
That's fine by me if it's fine by you.
Joey
Aye indeed, my old spoon. But it's not all fine by George, even by his own standards he is falling.
Jon
...Well, aren't you going to open this intriguing package postman George brought you by his own standards?
Joey
He brought it by van, and that's owned by the establishment. (He removes the brown paper to show a box which he opens and looks inside. Jon watches expectantly) Oh, Jon! You rapscallion, you've sent me another interesting postcard.
Jon
Indeed I have, Joey.
Joey
(Opening out the box and reading the message writ inside) 'My daddy always said that, "Life is like a box of chocolates - you can occasionally get a shag for five quid", your scraggy, Jon.' 'Your scraggy'? Jon?
Jon
Scrag-end - friend.
Joey
That's neat, and sweet, my sweet.
Jon
So, do you want to hear about it?
Joey
Your holiday? why of course, my old scraggy - nothing would suffice me more.
Jon
Well, Joey, as I have hinted at in my correspondence - my libido was fruitful on one night or two...But first the travel.
Joey
The travel!
Jon
I boarded the plane and got there three hours later.
Joey
Great. Now what about this love cum lust interest?
Jon
Well, Joey, as I have hinted at in my cardboard box - my libido was fruity on two nights or three...But first the hotel.
Joey
The hotel!
Jon
It was adequate...But you must let me tell you about my aardvark...
Joey
(Interrupting) Your Aardvark!?
Jon
Damity, damity, pop! I gave it away, and so soon too.
Joey
...But the aardvark?
Jon
Yes, she was called George. You may have noted the surprise I showed that your local postal worker was called George also; but my aardvark was called George - it was short for 'Orange'.
Joey
George Orange?
Jon
No, just 'Orange'.
Joey
Righty-diddle. And this aardvark...
Jon
George
Joey
...George, was she pretty?
Jon
Oh, beautiful! The Sun shimmered off her on many an occasion.
Joey
I think you may be in love - you've never been this wild and complementary over a mammal before.
Jon
What about Sonia?
Joey
I was discounting him.
Jon
Quite, he was a cheap little sod wasn't he.
Joey
So, why keep George secret?
Jon
'George?' The aardvark?
Joey
...That was secret.
Jon
Well, secretive.
Joey
How so?
Jon
It, I mean she of course, it exuded sebaceous chocolate that it would hide at parties.
Joey
How uncouth.
Jon
I prefer, 'common'.
Joey
You would. What would George - the punter - do after a hiding?
Jon
Oh, you knew she played rugby?
Joey
Not necessarily: Was she a geezer?
Jon
Most definitely not!
Joey
Then she must have punted a bit.
Jon
Wherever you're flowing, I'm going your way.
Joey
...And after a hiding?
Jon
She'd cry.
Joey
How shameful.
Jon
But not altogether untrue, for it hurt her to be parted from the very chocolate that had excreted from her pores.
Joey
Poor dear.
Jon
No, chocolate.
(Doorbell rings)
Joey
Mother!? (He rushes off and returns too fast with an egg) It was a policeman returning my egg.) (He drops the egg - it wasn't important) So, Jon, what happened?
Jon
She died.
Joey
Oh dear, were you crushed?
Jon
As I can be.
Joey
What a terrible blow you must have had.
Jon
Nope, I made my resolve at the last Warsaw Pact comity. I'll only blow myself off when I'm happy.
Joey
It would make me happy.
Jon
Me too, one thinks of it as a self serving and also a self fulfilling prophesy.
Joey
Jon, son?
Jon
Joey - my dude?
Joey
Would you enjoy a manly hug, my man? To ease you of your load.
Jon
Shoot - why sure. That would be fine. I would be touched. (Joey prods him in the biceps) No, I meant, 'I would appreciate that.' A hug I meander. (They hug and stay in that position) Erm, Joey?
Joey
Yesyes?
Jon
I have a confession to make.
Joey
Mmhmm?
Jon
That aardvark I was telling you about...
Joey
...George?..
Jon
Yes, of course George. How many other aardvarks have we discussed during the course of this play!?
Joey
Calm it.
Jon
I'm sorry - a slight nervousness on my part.
Joey
What about George?
Jon
She wasn't quite as real as I was making her out to be.
Joey
In what sense?
Jon
I made her up.
Joey
(Reproachful) Oh, Jon!
Jon
I know, Joey. i just had to broach a distasteful subject somehow.
Joey
If you don't like Pasta 'n' Sauce - why would you want to eat it?
Jon
Because you are like Pasta 'n' sauce to me. Bacon...no, Cheese...no, Curry flavour! And I don't find you distasteful at all, not in the least. I just didn't know how to cook you.
Joey
Why not just pour boiling water on as usual?
Jon
Oh, Joey! You're no Pot Noodle to me! With Pasta 'n' Sauce you must humour with butter and milk, and then simmer gently before you can pop it in your mouth.
Joey
Is that what you want, Jonathan? Is it? Do you want to pop me in your mouth?
Jon
Oh, Joseph, Yes!
Joey
But I'm no aardvark.
Jon
Neither was George: He was a three foot poster of you working at the checkout. Oh, it was horrible, Joey. For all three weeks of the vacation I stayed in my underwater hotel bathtub while old ladies screamed obscenities from under my toenails. And all I had to keep me sane was you, Joey. You and my nightstand. I had you on my wall at first, then in my sock-drawer, and then on my ceiling while I peeled grapes and flicked them into the furtling hole in your pixelated visage. But it was George I wanted to think about...But it was you I had to think about.
Joey
I suspected something more banal was going on - I did find the whole aardvark thing a bit absurd. But, Jon?
Jon
Joey?
Joey
...Flattered as I am, I'm not gay.
Jon
Neither am I, Joey. I think that straight people are the 'confused' ones.
Joey
Well I'm not.
Jon
But where are the women? There could be roles enough for them in my life - in your drivellings too. We could have adjusted to suit. The author needs not to know what he means, that is for the scholar to debate. And are we scholars, Joey?
(Doorbell rings)
Joey
Mother!? (He rushes off and comes on backwards) No, that was dad, he hasn't seen her either.
Jon
What say you in these matters, Joey? Could you be mine?
Joey
Give us a mo. and I'll see how the mood swings me. (Jon finds an electric razor in his pants and gives Joey's chin a mow)
Jon
How's that?
Joey
Better - I think my life's in order now. You were saying?
Jon
That I love you and don't ever want ot have to love your poster ever again - except on bank holidays, when skies tend to be weary anyway.
Joey
Yes, I think I'll do it.
Jon
Godammit, Joey, you're a man with one hell of a tusk.
Joey
And you've got some nerves.
Jon
I have bowels too, do you wish to see.
Joey
One step at a time, Jon, one step at a time. I don't even hold hands until the third date.
Jon
Well it's the second today.
Joey
Well I'll roger you on Sunday.
Jon
Glip.
Joey
'Beg your pardon?
Jon
Beg pardon.
(Jon begins to tap-dance while Joey re-enacts the Crimean war)
Jon
Crimean?
Joey
You betcha. (Pause. They stop) So, darling, what shall we do today?
Jon
Well, there are some new diapers...
Joey
'Nappies.'
Jon
...Diapers on the Market and I thought I might get some for Alice.
Joey
(Confused) Whu, hu, goah...Who's 'Alice'?
Jon
Our child, darling little Alice Angelou.
Joey
Have we a children?
Jon
Can't gay men adopt?
Joey
The established folks wouldn't approve it. Besides, we're not gay.
Jon
What about Sunday?
Joey
Should be a bit of a laugh.
Jon
But not gay?
Joey
No, not gay.
Jon
I think you're frigid.
Joey
Frigid! How much less frigid can you get than buggery?
Jon
Oh, buggery.
Joey
Something wrong?
Jon
Nothing that I can't forget.
Joey
Something about the holiday?
Jon
I forget.
Joey
Are you really sure this is a good idea? i have never thought of you as more than a friend before.
Jon
I've never even thought of you as that, but I am pretty sure. Even though I am sentient to my heterosexuality, love is necessary for any true relationship sine qua non (without which not) and - as you said - mammals are not my favourite of creatures. But you, Joey, you are a peach amongst otters.
Joey
Would otters eat a peach?
Jon
Okay, bad metaphor (Pause) You are a fish amongst rhinos.
Joey
Dry humour, meiner liebe herr. (Suddenley Joey gasps)...Jon, do you know of Slipe? (Jon taps his own shoulders in negation)...It is a wool removed from the pelt of a slaughtered sheep by immersion in a chemical bath; and that is what I will be if I let slip to Mrs. Wannamaker about our Sabbatical anals on Saturday when I meet with her for coffee and chattings.
Jon
What can we do?! Shouldst we maybe put it off for a period of Grace?
Joey
The Duchess would not approve. Mrs. Wannamaker is a cow when it comes to talk of the lowly aardvark.
Jon
Are cattle scared, perchance, by that lowly creature - the aardvark?
Joey
Shouldn't think so, besides...Mrs. Wannamaker, she has a talent for not being a cow at the most inconvenient of times.
Jon
Well, you'll just have to tell her then, won't you?
Joey
I can't do that, she's my daughter. She'll call off the engagement.
Jon
Are you engaged?
Joey
It is possible, you know, for a girl to be engaged to someone other than her own father.
Jon
Lucky that.
Joey
Isn't he...But I'm afraid our fling is over, I can't afford to tell Mrs. Wannamaker and nor can I keep it from her, she's a moo-moo, she really is.
Jon
Not 'really', eh?
Joey
No, not 'really', no.
Jon
(Jon imitates a comedy cow) 'Moo, moo, moo...' Oh, shengus! Well that was the end to a round idea.
Joey
Better than the start to a round of golf.
Jon
And we don't have a little Alice Angelou?
Joey
'Fraid that's the case.
Jon
Oh my peabody, I really have disrupted your day with impossible yearning, haven't I?
Joey
No, Jon, you've given me something to think about and I treasure that. I love my own reflection.
Jon
Who doesn't? It fascinates, eh? The way that we are inside our thoughts but outsiders think of our outside as some reflection. But yet it is our reflection which is alien to us and our externally insubstantiable interns that are some measure of who we really are.
Joey
I didn't really get that, Joey. But don't explain, just give me a moment to dream about insubstantiable medical interns. (Both pause and smile while they imagine this. The sink as one to the couch - or chairs - cross their legs, and cover their crotches with hands) (Both pause and smile while they imagine this. They sink as one to the couch – or chairs – cross their legs, and cover their crotches with hands) Nursey!
Jon
Nursey!
Joey
Tell you what, Jon – son, I shall train you not to have these uncomfortable swells of nature via the ‘cat’ method whereby your formed ginger group is dissolved into a rather tabby affair. This should void any embarassing moments whilst meanwhile replenishing the beef to the bone.
Jon
A maaaad plan, Joey. Do you not think my love don’t stretch deeper than cats.
Joey
Have you ever watched a cat to stretch? They stretch a long way, Jon. They stretch a long way.
Jon
Jo-balls, I don’t think I am in the right state of mind to take you in…
Joey
…Jon! You should be pleased for the guidance. Not to be self important, but – I Know Best.
Jon
But what if I’m not?
Joey
Not what?
Jon
Pleased.
Joey
Why on Earth shouldn’t you be pleased? I should be pleased – so you should be.
Jon
Oh, but now I’m confused.
Joey
We’re all confused, dear. It might help if you were to think sometimes rather than do.
Jon
…but doing gets things done.
Joey
But thinking gets things fun…Now, now, my dear, don’t get perplexed and don’t criticise my method – it’s not complex. Just imagine that you’re a cat.
Jon
A cat? Oh, but now I’m really confused.
Joey
Look, see. I think of you as a cat. Now, a cat can’t understand much. Granted?
Jon
…granted – they must think our babble rather strange
Joey
…yes, I suppose so…but this babble can teach them things because even nonsense has its logic – and they learn.
Jon
So your house training me!
Joey
In a way, yes. And I’ll keep on doing it until you start learning to stop spreading your WORTHLESS SHIT AROUND!!!
Jon
Thanks, Joey.
Joey
That’s okay, Jon.
Jon
Well, how does it work then?
Joey
Do you still love me, Jon?
Jon
How could I love anyone who calls me a pussy to my face.
Joey
Then the cat method works.
Jon
Must do. Josey-libertast? Does this signal an end to my personal worth? Have I meaning anymore?
Joey
Meaning includes identity, Jon – of what it is – and difference, Jon – to what it is not. And it is continuously being deferred. Such whereby and indeed I would say that meaning will return for and to you in a future that will always be a future to you.
Jon
So I have hope then?
Joey
Hope is all you’ll ever have, Jon.
Jon
I want to destroy myself, life is getting me down.
Joey
Well at least I’m not getting you up anymore. (Telephone rings. Joey answers it) Yes? Hello, Mrs. Wannamaker…Right up?…Oh, right!…Has the swelling gone down yet…You had to be taken in…Which hospital did you go to?…Washing up liquid, Mrs. Wannamaker?…Bet they laughed at you in the casualty department, eh?…Yes Mrs. Wannamaker, I’ll get you some new batteries if you’re sure the surgeon didn’t damage it…Okay mrs. Wannamaker, you can give me a full demonstration on Saturday. Bye-bye, Mrs. Wannamaker. Bye-Bye.
Jon
Your daughter?
Joey
Mrs. Wannamaker.
Jon
Do you like animals, Joey.
Joey
I do, Jon, I do.
Jon
I will bring Sonia back to meet you and grate with you on Christmas then.
Joey
But you’re not invited for Christmas, Jon.
Jon
That’s okay. I’ve invited myself.
Joey
Well at least you find your own body to be invitiing. That’s good.
Jon
(imitates a comedy cat) Miaow-miaow-miaow. Purr…But what about your mother?
(doorbell rings)
Joey
Mother!? (He rushes off. Pause. Returns) Yep, that was her.
THE END
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