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Lights come up. Sit on bed feeding Paul tomato soup |
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Open wide. Such a good boy! (get another spoonful ready and look at him shyly) |
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Nothing, it's nothing. Nothing at all. |
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Sure sounds like something to me. |
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It's ridiculous. Who am I to offer a criticism to someone like you? |
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You won't be the first. Go ahead. |
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I know I'm only 40 pages into the manuscript... (feed him- Paul swallows, gestures for her to go on)
...and it's brilliantly written but then everything you ever write it brilliant- |
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Pretty brutal so far. (Annie hesitates to speak)
Is it hard to follow? I know it jumps back and forth in time... |
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Well, yeah, that's hard, but it's not that. |
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I know the language is complicated... |
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(interrupting, a burst)
It's the swearing, Paul. (a beat) There, I said it. |
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The profanity bothers you? |
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Every other word is the F word. It has no nobility! |
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Annie, this is real life, it's 1987, everybody talks like that. |
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(holds tight to the spoon and tries not to spill)
What do you think I do when I go to the feed store in town? What do you think I say? "Now give me a bag of that effing pig feed and some of that bitchly cow corn?" "Hell, yes, Ma'am, coming right the eff up?"
(Paul is surprised at this, but also a little amused. Annie is doing her best not to spill the soup)
And at the bank do you think I say, "Here's one effin bastard of a check, now get off your effin ass and cash the effin thing!"
(stand and lose control of the soup, spilling it onto the floor)
(Shouting) Ah, there! There! See what you made me do? |
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Sure you are!
(kitchen timer goes off)
So I suppose you want your cockadoodie medicine. Well, you're going to have to wait until I clean this mess up.
(exit, return a moment later with a cloth and bucket to clean the spill. Pause as she cleans)
My mother would have washed my mouth out with soap and water for using that kind of language. (beat) You don't need to use swear words in the Misery books, because they didn't use swear words at all back then. They weren't even invented in the 1860s. That was a better a time. You ought to stick to the Misery stories, Paul. I say that sincerely as someone who cares about you, as your number one fan.
(finishes cleaning)
You won't make me mad again, will you? |
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No, I don't want you mad. I sort of depend on you, you know. |
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Yes, you do, don't you?
(wait a beat, hand him pills, then fill glass with soapy water from the bucket and hand him the glass as he looks at Annie in disbelief) |
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Seriously? You swore. Not me. |
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(beat... After a moment, with hesitation, he puts the pills in his mouth, and takes a small sip of soapy water. Annie, satisfied, exits. |
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