Etiquette and Vitriol (43 page)

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Authors: Nicky Silver

BOOK: Etiquette and Vitriol
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HOWARD:
Phyllis!

PHYLLIS:
Yes dear?

HOWARD:
Help me! Stop him—call the police!

BISHOP:
YOU CAN'T GET RID OF ME! I'M YOUR CHILD!

HOWARD:
CALL THEM!!

PHYLLIS
(After a moment of internal debate)
: No.

BISHOP:
YOU NEVER LIKED ME! YOU NEVER WANTED ME!

HOWARD:
CALL THEM!

PHYLLIS:
I feel . . . inert.

HOWARD:
Please Phyllis! I love you!

PHYLLIS:
Oh Howard. You love her, you love him, you love me. You just love everyone when there's a knife at your throat.

HOWARD:
HELP ME!!!

PHYLLIS
(Bored)
: Would you like a glass of water?

HOWARD:
Dear God oh God oh God—

BISHOP:
You should have killed me, you asshole! You should have killed me years ago! When you had the chance, when I was little—you didn't want me then—you don't want me now—and it's not MY FAULT! IT'S YOURS! BUT YOU COULDN'T! YOU'RE TOO SCREWED UP! YOU'RE TOO FUCKED UP—WHAT'S RIGHT AND WHAT'S MORAL AND YOU DIDN'T HAVE THE GUTS! BUT I'M NOT YOU! I CAN DO IT! I CAN KILL THINGS! I
CAN KILL YOU!! AND IT FEELS TERRIFIC! IT FEELS LIKE RUNNING AND RUNNING AND GUNSHOTS IN MY HEAD! AND THERE ARE BIRDS IN THE SKY, JUST LIKE YOU AND I CAN CATCH THEM AND PULL THEM DOWN! AND IT'S BETTER THAN FUCKING! WATCH! JUST WATCH! JUST WATCH!!!

(He cuts Howard's throat. There is a long pause. Bishop collapses. Phyllis looks at him. Then at us. Then at Howard. Then at us again.)

PHYLLIS:
Well . . . that was cleansing.

BISHOP:
Uh-huh.

PHYLLIS:
I feel good.

BISHOP
(At Howard)
: What a drip.

PHYLLIS:
You know, dear, I don't mean to criticize, but it would've been tidier to stab him in the chest.

BISHOP:
EVERYONE'S A MONDAY-MORNING QUARTERBACK!!!

PHYLLIS:
Sorry.
(There is a pause)
Bishop?

BISHOP:
What.

PHYLLIS:
What now?

BISHOP:
C'mere, slophead.
(She joins him)
We'll go back.

PHYLLIS:
Back?

BISHOP:
Home.

PHYLLIS:
Tonight?

BISHOP:
Tomorrow.

(They look at each other and fall into a kiss, mutually. It is passionate.)

I'm starved.

(They look at Howard, then at each other and start to giggle.)

Don't eat the toes!

PHYLLIS:
I won't!

BISHOP
(Out)
: Toes are my favorite.

PHYLLIS
(Out)
: I like privates.

BISHOP:
That's my slophead.—We'll go back and start over and always be together.

PHYLLIS:
I love you Bishop.

BISHOP:
Get the salt.

(Phyllis cheerily exits, and Bishop rises and addresses the audience.)

And the next thing I remember, I was someplace else completely.

(Blackout. We hear “Save the Bones for Henry Jones.”)

ACT III

A year later. A hospital. There are two areas set up on the sand. One is a consulting room: a desk with chair, and a chair for the patient. The other is Bishop's room: a cot and a small chest of drawers. Dr. Nestor is seated at the desk.

NESTOR:
Send in Bishop Hogan.

(After a moment, Bishop enters.)

Hello.

BISHOP:
Hello.

NESTOR:
You are Bishop Hogan. Do you know who I am?

BISHOP:
Do you know who
I
am?

NESTOR:
I just said, you're Bishop Hogan. I am Dr. Nestor.
(Pause)
Do you know why you're here?

BISHOP:
Do you know why
you're
here?

NESTOR:
I work here. I'm the new doctor.

BISHOP:
I'm
the new doctor.

NESTOR:
Do you think you're a doctor?

BISHOP:
Do you think
you're
a doctor?

NESTOR:
I know I am.

BISHOP:
I know
I
am.

NESTOR:
I see.

BISHOP:
I see.

NESTOR:
I am Bishop Hogan. I am here because I murdered my parents. I killed my father and his mistress, and the next day, my mother. I am here because it was the judgment of the court that I was mentally ill at the time of these acts.

BISHOP:
I
am Bishop Hogan.
I
am here because I murdered my parents.
I
killed my father and his mistress, and the next day, my mother.
I
am here because it was the judgment of the court that I was mentally ill at the time of these acts.

NESTOR:
I LIKE IT HERE.

BISHOP:
I LIKE IT HERE.

NESTOR:
I am all better and the psychological demons which tormented me have receded into the dark recesses of my unconscious.

BISHOP:
Yeah yeah yeah, recesses, unconscious.

NESTOR:
I thought you wanted to play a game.

BISHOP:
Fuck you.

NESTOR:
Fuck you.

BISHOP:
What?

NESTOR:
What?

BISHOP:
Fuck off.

NESTOR:
Fuck off.

BISHOP:
You can't talk to me that way.

NESTOR:
YOU CAN'T TALK TO ME THAT WAY!

BISHOP:
I'm the patient. You're the doctor!

NESTOR:
You're the doctor.

BISHOP:
Fuck you!

NESTOR:
FUCK YOU!
(Laughing)
You see how irritating that can be.

BISHOP
(Out)
: Dr. Nestor is eerily like my father.

NESTOR:
Now. Shall we start over?
(Pause)
Hello.

BISHOP:
Hello.

NESTOR:
Now, you're Bishop Hogan. Do you know who I am?

BISHOP:
Fuck you.

NESTOR:
That's better.

BISHOP:
You're the new doctor?

NESTOR:
Yes.

BISHOP:
You remind me of my father.

NESTOR:
It says here, you killed your father.

BISHOP:
Yeah so and.

NESTOR:
Do you remember that?

BISHOP:
Like it was ten minutes ago.
*

NESTOR:
Why did you kill your father?

BISHOP:
I was hungry.

NESTOR:
Pardon me?

BISHOP:
I was hungry and there was no spareribs in the kitchen.

NESTOR:
Do you like Chinese food?

BISHOP:
Comme ci, comme ça.

NESTOR:
You killed your father in a rage over an ill-stocked refrigerator?

BISHOP:
No. You moron.

NESTOR:
I don't think you should call me a moron, Bishop. I think that's disrespectful.

BISHOP:
I killed my father, to eat him. Didn't you read that thing?

NESTOR:
I meant to, but it got boring.

BISHOP:
Well, that's why I did it.

NESTOR:
All right. Why did you kill your mother?

BISHOP:
I didn't.

NESTOR:
I did read that far—

BISHOP:
I didn't kill my mother, you cocksucking, needlenosed dick!

NESTOR:
Do you feel hostile?

BISHOP:
Can we look at ink blots?

NESTOR:
You don't remember killing your mother?

BISHOP:
Since I didn't do it, why would I remember it?

NESTOR:
Maybe it slipped your mind?

BISHOP:
I remember things. I'm not insane.

NESTOR:
Then why are you here?

BISHOP:
You mean in the metaphysical sense?

NESTOR:
How did your mother die, if you didn't kill her?

BISHOP:
She didn't.

NESTOR:
It says here—

BISHOP:
I don't give a shit what it says there! I didn't write that! It's not true.

NESTOR:
So you think the other doctors are liars?

BISHOP:
Yes.

NESTOR:
And the judge?

BISHOP:
Yes!

NESTOR:
And the police?

BISHOP:
Yes!!

NESTOR:
And the courtroom stenographer?

BISHOP:
Yes!!!

NESTOR:
And the mortician?

BISHOP:
YES!!!

NESTOR:
And the undertaker?

BISHOP:
YES!!

NESTOR:
And me and Miss Fitch and the embalmer and the man who carved the headstone and the people from CNN and
Geraldo?
!

BISHOP:
YES! YES! YES! A BUNCH OF FILTHY-FUCKING- FREAKASSED LIARS!

(Phyllis enters. She looks composed and well-kept, as she did at the start of the play.)

PHYLLIS:
Bishop.

BISHOP
(Rushing to Phyllis)
: Mommy.

PHYLLIS:
Calm down, Bishop.

BISHOP:
They think you're dead.

PHYLLIS:
Don't be absurd—stand up straight.

BISHOP:
It's starting again. They're saying you're dead.

PHYLLIS:
Do I look dead?

BISHOP:
You're standing up.

PHYLLIS:
Do I sound dead?

BISHOP:
What do dead people sound like?

PHYLLIS:
Not like this.

BISHOP:
They say that I killed you.

PHYLLIS:
That's not true.

BISHOP:
I love you.

PHYLLIS:
Why would you kill me?

BISHOP:
I wouldn't.

PHYLLIS:
I know that.

BISHOP:
Why do they keep saying it then?

PHYLLIS:
They're incredibly stupid.

BISHOP:
All of them?

PHYLLIS:
Yes. They want to make you feel bad so they feel better themselves. They're insecure. They know they're stupid and they want to bolster their egos. They're jealous of us.

BISHOP:
What should I do?

PHYLLIS:
What would Katharine Hepburn do?

BISHOP:
Re-re-rely on her Yankee strength.

PHYLLIS:
That's right.

BISHOP:
Th-th-that's what I'll do then.

PHYLLIS:
And don't tell them anything. Don't give away your secrets. They'll use them against you. They'll judge you like God. Which they have no business doing.

BISHOP:
I love you Mommy.

PHYLLIS:
Why would you kill me? Don't chew gum.

(Phyllis and Bishop embrace. Popo enters wearing a bathrobe and sits on the cot.)

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