The Characters

 2 Men: Sylvan and Laydon -- They may be of almost any age from early thirties to anywhere beyond.

 1 Woman: Shirley Temple, Sister Johann Sebastian and Lollie Popp ­- Of almost any age, she plays three characters. (In one scene she roller-skates, though skill at that activity is not required.)

The Setting

 Only one setting is required, defining a small pier. While the script refers to a railing, chairs turned backward could be used for this purpose. The only required set piece is a box or stool approximately fifteen inches high and big enough for a man to squat and stand on.

      The downstage area is a walkway that gives access to the pier.

 Lighting: The same lighting is used throughout -- subdued lighting suggesting late night.

 Special Effects: If more elaborate production approaches are available and desired, there could be the sound of distant foghorn and ships'-- horns, waves lapping at the pilings below -- sounds indigenous to a waterfront late at night -- and the drifting and eddying of fog. And there could be a suggestion of a skyline in the dark distance, with the lights of a city's late night.

Pier Pressure

 (sylvan squats on a box, hardly noticeable in the shadows, hunched into a fetal-like position. he wears a dark, old overcoat and well-worn hat.

(laydon enters, wearing a new, stylish overcoat. he moves slowly, heavy with thought as he walks onto the pier, unaware of Sylvan's presence. For a few seconds he looks into the distance as though in search for answers.)

sylvan

(Calmly)

Hey.

laydon

(Very startled)

Jesus!

sylvan

What?

laydon

Damn! You scared the shit out of me!

sylvan

You're entirely too nervous.

laydon

Hiding there, like a damn mollusk --

sylvan

(Overlapping/interrupting; calmly)

I apologized ... no harm done ... and I wasn't hiding ...

(sylvan curls back into his shell and withdraws. laydon keeps glancing at Sylvan, finally moving around him -- slowly, quietly. Then laydon advances with stealth to sneak within inches of Sylvan and suddenly screams.)

laydon

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

(sylvan doesn't react at all.)

(continuing) laydon (continuing)

Jesus! Are you deaf?

sylvan

Trying to get my attention, are you?

laydon

Trying to pay you back for scaring the shit out of me!

sylvan

You wouldn't have been frightened if you had adequately acquainted yourself with your surroundings. Besides, I've had dealings with people like you -- I figured you'd try something of that sort.

(sylvan begins to withdraw again.)

laydon

Wait a minute! I want to talk to you!

sylvan

Is it meaningful communication you want, or maniacal contention? One is enlightening and to be embraced, the other detrimental and to be avoided.

(A beat)

It was not a rhetorical question.

laydon

Stop that! Don't treat me like your subordinate! -- some minimum-wage menial doesn't know his happy meal from his hairy butt -- some little ...

(sylvan uncurls and stands on the box, towering over Laydon by several inches. laydon backs away as a precaution.)

(continuing) laydon (continuing)

Hey, big guy, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to get you all upset. Just a little excited. Not been a good day. No harm done, okay? -- everything's fine ...

(sylvan steps off the box, becoming no taller than Laydon -- maybe even shorter.)

sylvan

You really are not very good at assessing your surroundings. Sure hope you're not in charge of anything important.

(A beat; observing and appraising)

Oops, you are. Work in one of those big buildings over there, don't you?

(A beat; waiting for answer)

Wandering 'round, late at night, somber suit with power tie but there's blood beneath the nails. Freshly nipped by eager teeth, stung by the snarls of virile association gone rancid. Escaped from your acres of hushed stride with orgasmic view, Chinese Chippendale, moose and marlin stuffed and mounted with all the life of partners in commerce -- agonizing about an insurmountable problem, which, you have come to realize, you spawned yourself. Which building?

(A beat)

Anh, I'll figure it out.

      Your job has to do with money, right? Everything does, in your world, so that was a throw-away question.

      Do you know there was a time in this country when a business considered service to be a viable commodity? When social consciousness was reckoned an asset? Can you imagine? We've come a long way since then, haven't we? Why waste time and resources on garbage like humanitarianism and benevolence? Giving back to the community? Respecting employees? Archaic and useless ideas! Yes, your cross-hairs are precisely positioned on the center of the only bull's-eye that means a thing: Money! Right?

laydon

We try to make a profit ...

sylvan

No, God makes prophets. Men make messes. Well, some of the prophets made messes, too, but that's another story.

laydon

Without successful business, this country would not have the sound economy that we enjoy today. Even when times get a little shaky, there is still a healthy and solid foundation that assures economic constancy --

sylvan

(Overlapping/interrupting)

Did you know that a bill of currency used to be a certificate verifying there was on deposit in the treasury of this great country an equivalent amount in gold? That you could go get that gold if you wanted it? That a half-dollar was made of silver that was -- if you can believe it -- worth a half dollar? Now a hundred-dollar bill is worth the same as a one-dollar bill because they take the same amount of ink and paper, and that's really the only value it has -- what? two cents? -- because now it's all backed up by just plain bull shit ... and we took the silver out so we could make a half-dollar for a penny, and pennies cost about a dime so we'll do away with those, and we claim we have riches when what we've really got is scraps of wrinkled paper and bits of stamped-out sheet metal. But, wait! Now it's all numbers spewing out of computers accessed by bits of thermosetting polymers spewing out of precision automatons, so instead of those vaults holding your treasures of gold and silver, they're stuffed with paper and plastic -- hardly rare and precious commodities, I might point out -- and somehow this all tallies up to make you a wealthy man in this “sound economy.” My hearty-congratulations-dot-com.

laydon

I wouldn't describe myself as wealthy, exactly -- yet ...

sylvan

Oh? Short on zeroes are we? One time, a man with a million dollars was wealthy. Truly! Now -- ten million? fifteen? -- isn't that just the first grasp at the splintered underside of the bottom rung of wealth? Are you lurching around in the great pool of the covetous and conniving, short of the twenty-five or fifty million that would give you claim to honest-to-God bonafide lower-middle-class pseudo wealth, listing your soul on E-Devil so someday you'll be able to live on the same street where Bill Gates once spit? How much loose change you got in your pocket?

laydon

What?

sylvan

Change. Pull it out -- how much change you got?

(laydon reaches into his pocket, pulls out change.)

laydon

Uh ... seventy-eight cents.

(sylvan grabs the coins out of Laydon's hand and drops them into his own pocket.)

sylvan

Now, would you like to guess how much I'm worth?

laydon

This is stupid.

sylvan

You spend hours a day figuring out the worth of some thing or some body or some duplicitous scheme of one kind or another. So figure out what I'm worth. You just increased my assets -- which by the way was eighty-seven cents because what you counted as a penny was actually a dime. I hate to think what you might do with my stock portfolio. Come on, what do you think I'm worth?

laydon

How about you just tell me.

sylvan

Oh, that's not the way you do business. You wouldn't take a client's word for anything.

(In the distance, we hear the hawking call ...)

(off stage) shirley (off stage)

Cigars ... cigarettes ... cigarillos ... fiscal encounters of a deviant nature ...

laydon

I don't care what you're worth.

(offstage; closer) shirley (offstage; closer)

Cigars ... cigarettes ... cigarillos ... fiscal encounters of a deviant nature ...

sylvan

Because you're interested only in those whom you think can offer you gain. You care for no one else, if you can call that caring ...

(shirley enters, carrying a tray loaded with sugar cubes.)

shirley

Cigars ... cigarettes ... cigarillos ... fiscal encounters of a --

(Stops, noticing Sylvan)

Oh, hi, Sylvan. How ya doin'?

sylvan

Hi, Shirley. Doing fine. At the moment inundated by attempts at advanced inveiglement, but nothing I can't handle. How are you?

shirley

Enticing as icing.

sylvan

With great bargain pricing. What do you have tonight?

shirley

Well, let's see what I have left. Oh! Everything. I haven't sold a smidgen.

sylvan

My not-exactly-wealthy friend here will buy a smidgen, as will I, of course.

laydon

She has nothing I need. So just leave me out of this --

sylvan

(Overlapping/interrupting)

Nonsense. She has everything you need.

(To Shirley)

Shirley. This is ...

(To Laydon)

I'm embarrassed -- such a good friend and I don't know your name.

laydon

I, uh ... my name is Laydon.

sylvan

Your first name?

laydon

Last.

sylvan

Shirley, this is Last Laydon. Mister Laydon, this is Shirley Temple.

laydon

Shirley Temple?

shirley

I used to be in movies. I was a real charmer.

(she does a quick dance step as “proof.”)

laydon

I, uh, remember a Shirley Temple, but she looked nothing like you.

shirley

Oh, you're thinking that Shirley Temple -- stringy blonde curls, pitted face made up like dimples, voice that made your teeth itch? Nooo, that little toe-tapping twit said she'd sue if I used her name, which really was my name but I don't want to get Semitic or arthritic.

laydon

What name did you perform under?

shirley

Gwyneth Paltrow. I thought of it first so there was nothing that little tart-come-lately could do. Brad Pitt threatened legal action. Claimed I was sullying his reputation -- ha! -- like that was possible. But, thank goodness, Jennifer Ass-in-an-instant came along.

      What do you think about “Minnie Van Driver”? Or “Leona diCaprio”? I'd like to get back in the business. I've got the look, but I need a hook.

laydon

I don't remember ever seeing you on the screen ...

shirley

Mostly did industrials. If you were considering a John Deere twenty years ago, couldn't have missed me. Good tractors. No residuals.

sylvan

What do you have today, Shirley?

shirley

Well, whatever it is, my doctor said it would clear up as soon as I -- oh, here you mean. It's a joke, Laydon! Now -- seasonal things, it seems: floral cigars, picnic cigarettes with or without ants, crimson leaf cigarillos -- ¿no es eso especial? -- or I could give you a snow job.

laydon

I really am not interested ...

sylvan

Of course you are. My not-exactly-wealthy friend Mister Laydon will have ... that picnic cigarette, no ants.

(shirley hands a cube of sugar to laydon.)

laydon

That is no cigarette and this is no picnic.

sylvan

Warning you! Do not question her wares!

(To Shirley)

How much for the supposedly picnickial dubious cigarette for a not-exactly-wealthy man?

(shirley picks up a book from her tray, flips through it, finds the correct page, reads aloud.)

shirley

Mmmm, let's see ... cigarette, semicolon, real or not, comma, picnic, slash, night, comma, on a dark, parentheses open without ants parentheses closed, colon, customer not exactly wealthy -- or friendly, I might add -- footnote with double dagger, uh, surcharge if sullen, mmm, back up here, there's pier tax, marina tax, city tax, county tax, ocean tax, regional tax, federal exercise tax, continental drift tax, League of Nations tax? Hmm. International Monetary Fund tax, thumb tacks -- that's to hold all the taxes intact -- then there's postage because I left it on the bedpost overnight, and a handling charge because I just handed it to you -- dot dot dot dot dot over to this side of the page ... that comes to one-hundred thirty-two dollars and fifty-six cents.

sylvan

It's a bargain, Mister Laydon.

laydon

I'm not paying over a hundred dollars for --

(sylvan reaches into Laydon's pocket and takes his wallet.)

(continuing) laydon (continuing)

Ha! There's no money in there.

sylvan

Ha, yourself! These little pieces of plastic will do very nicely. We're only dealing in the transfer of computer type, after all. Let's see, Shirley, you have a choice. There's Visa, Master, Diner's, Master, Discovery, Master, Master, American Express ... Blockbuster?

shirley

Any of them maxed out, Mister Laydon?

laydon

Of course not! But ... don't use the Visa.

shirley

Sylvan, did I ever tell you about the time I went fishing and caught a hooker's credit card?

sylvan

Yes, Shirley. Instead of a worm you used master bait. Here.

(sylvan takes a card from Laydon's wallet, hands it to shirley, returns the wallet to Laydon. she takes the card, sticks it down the front of her dress, does a strange little jiggle ...)

shirley

Ooo, it always feels so good when the approval comes through. I'm glad you weren't declined. That can hurt.

(she reaches in and pulls out the card and a double piece of paper, takes a pen from her tray, hands them to laydon. she turns around, sticks her butt out to be used as a writing table.)

(continuing) shirley (continuing)

Sign down there at the bottom.

laydon

I'm doing this under duress.

shirley

Not under my d'ress, you ain't.

(shirley and sylvan laugh as laydon signs the paper, keeps a copy for himself, hands the other back to shirley.)

(continuing) shirley (continuing)

Thank you so much, Mister Laydon. You're a real rigid sphincter. Now, Sylvan, how can I do it to you?

sylvan

A really fine cigar would be auspicious.

shirley

And decidedly pernicious. Could I lay a begonia on ya?

(shirley hands sylvan a sugar cube.)

sylvan

I'm too lazy for a daisy and wouldn't push ya for a fuchsia. How much?

shirley

Is twelve cents exorbitant? Rent's due, you know. Oh, make it eleven.

sylvan

Don't short-change yourself. Twelve cents is fine.

shirley

That includes all the commas, dashes, slashes, dots and colons.

(To Mr. Laydon)

Don't you wish your colon had been included.

(sylvan pulls a large roll of bills from his pocket, peels off five, hands them to shirley.)

(continuing) shirley (continuing)

Thank you, Sylvan, for never wanting change.

(Exiting)

Cigars ... cigarettes ... cigarillos ... fiscal encounters of a deviant nature ...

laydon

What loony bin did she just escape from?

sylvan

She's the third sanest person alive today. And a remarkable teacher.

laydon

Right. Just what is it she teaches?

sylvan

Confabulative reallocation of profane possessions and temporal trusts. She's a wizard with the wayward.

laydon

Could she tell me what to do with a hundred-thirty-dollar cube of sugar?

sylvan

What makes you think it's a cube of sugar?

laydon

Because ... it looks like a cube of sugar ...

(Puts tongue to it)

It tastes like a cube of sugar ...

(Puts it in mouth, eats it)

It is a cube of sugar, you idiot!

sylvan

Well, if I had paid a hundred thirty-two dollars and fifty-six cents for a cube of sugar, I think I would have saved it for a three hundred sixty-seven-dollar cup of oolong.

(sylvan pops his cube of sugar into his mouth.)

laydon

But you just ate a five-hundred-dollar cube of sugar!

sylvan

No, I ate a twelve-cent cube of sugar. The four hundred ninety-nine-dollar-and-eighty-eight-cent tip is not a part of its worth. You have a lot to learn about determining value.

laydon

This is ludicrous. I'm going back to my office.

sylvan

Bricker Building. Twin towers, flashing lights on top, American and corporate flags, one no higher than the other, waving in the spotlights. Third floor from the top?

laydon

Second. How did you figure that out?

sylvan

It's embroidered on your company chastity belt! Good God, man, there is a darkness that envelopes you when you look in that direction. You hate your job, everything about it. You look at your wife and remember how uncommon life used to be, how you wanted to achieve so she would be proud of you. Now you look at her and scream inside, Can't you see the pressures of my job? Can't you just leave me alone so I can solve the problems of my job? Can't you take care of things at home so I can take care of my job? And do you want to know what she's thinking?

laydon

Like you would know ...

sylvan

Why don't I just take a handful of twelve-gauge shotguns and shove them into every penetrable orifice and pull some triggers? That's what she's thinking. Sorry to be so coarse, but ...

laydon

That's not my wife! She's a very prudent, patient, pious woman.

sylvan

Then maybe she'll breathe a little prayer of exasperation between pulling the triggers.

laydon

Oh, bull! What makes you such an expert on my life?

sylvan

I'm not blinded by the things that blind you. You came here tonight to figure out how to handle a big problem. Right?

laydon

Well ... there is a, uh, matter of, uh, some ... magnitude.

sylvan

You're going to lose your job and all you ever got from it. And you're taking others with you. A lot of “rich” people will be paupers by this time tomorrow. Am I a teeny-bit close?

laydon

It's not my fault! I was persuaded to act on ... unsound counsel!

sylvan

And that explanation will save you from the corporate gallows? Ha! You're all going down. Years of diligent work and blind loyalty, and this is your legacy -- a brass plaque on your portrait inside the third urinal from the left: “He single-handedly sunk the fucking ship.” Welcome aboard the Titanic, mate. Would you like that drink on the rocks?

laydon

All right! So I do need a miracle -- somebody up there to part the sea of red ink.

sylvan

A miracle is something that can't happen, but it does. So it doesn't, because it can't. But we want them so much we imagine they do. People call it a miracle when something bad happens but it could have been worse. What kind of a demented conclusion is that? A miracle would be if my cat peed pellets so I could scoop that up, too.

      Look at the world we live in. Courtesy is called heroism, helpfulness is deemed philanthropy, loyalty is considered divine behavior, honesty demands reward. We've come to believe that merely living a simple, decent life is so special that it warrants praise and payoff when it's simply what being human is all about. Being the best that we can be is the minimum expectation, the basic standard. It's an honor to be given our humanness -- and we pervert it and pollute it and distort it and defile it and dishonor it and infect it and neglect it and mock it, and stand back when we've trashed it beyond recognition and repair, throw up our hands, and deny any responsibility as we declare with sighs of righteous resignation: Well, that's life.

      Well, it isn't life. It's a living death of our own making where greed is embraced by envy guarded by pride, killing off what really matters to give us the carrion we crave as we swoop down to engorge our blind, lustful, gluttonous souls, then grin and wink as we offer an “oops” when we belch the fetid air of Success.

      Our problem is not overindulgence but misalignment. We insist we want to better ourselves, but we move in all the wrong directions with the finesse of a fart at a funeral. We break our spirit into bits and scatter it like shards in a cyclone, ending up having personal mastery geared only to wreaking massive personal damage. And this whole problem could be solved if we would simply slow down, and take whatever measure of life is needed to calmly ask the question, What now? -- then take whatever portion of life is needed to patiently wait for the answer. If we can't take the moments or hours, days or years to make discoveries, then we've thrown our lives so far off center that we'll never find the truth about our selves. Because we don't know what our march is all about, we find no value in the step, the stride, the trek -- the day, the season, the ages -- driven in frenzy to execute rather than consider, attack rather than feel, race rather than ramble, achieve rather than heed, order rather than listen, confine rather than release, increase rather than nourish. Because we prostitute our purpose and yet press for the prize, we are never what we could be -- what we would yearn to be -- if we would only give ourselves the time to go back and bring our hearts in line with the blueprints of our person. We must be willing to tear out, clear away and build back according to the permits originally issued.

laydon

But I have a business to run, a profit to make.

sylvan

When money is your aim, it is your prison. Can't you feel the clink of your cell door?

(sister comes roller-skating on stage, her arms folded in front of her. she has a scarf on her head, arranged to suggest the attire of a nun.)

laydon

Oh, God, what's coming at us now?

sylvan

Sister! I'd like for you to meet a friend of mine.

laydon

I wish you wouldn't refer to me as a friend ...

(sister skates over, keeping a nunnish stance.)

sister

Pax on you, my sons.

sylvan

Sister, I'd like to introduce to you Last Laydon. He does not yet have huge wealth though he is owned by a huge corporation that imprisons him in a huge building, and his life is hugely filled with misery and woe and he lacks all hope.

sister

Congratulations on being such a huge success, Mr. Laydon. How mindlessly obsequious of you.

sylvan

Mister Laydon, this is Sister Johann Sebastian of the Order of Bad Bachs. She's a faithful servant of the Lord, harrowing the horrendous fields of alleged hopelessness, sowing seeds of assurance and praying for a harvest of personal attainment for the kindred spirits who toil in the spoiled soil.

sister

I'm merely a simple farmer, a humble sharecropper for the Lord. Non è quello speciale?

sylvan

(To Laydon)

Considering the creativity of your crap, I wouldn't expect you to crave her crop.

laydon

So much for hedging on futures.

sister

Is there something I can help you with, Mister Laydon?

laydon

I'm not of a religious bent ...

sister

Hell, who is? I know where I can get you a good deal on cigars, cigarettes, cigarillos? Celestial acts of a divine nature?

sylvan

What he'd really like to have is a miracle.

laydon

Don't be silly. I know I can't expect a miracle! ... Can I?

sister

(To Sylvan)

Oh, you must have lectured him on that subject.

sylvan

I spoke to him -- spontaneously. You know it always is.

sister

I'm sorry, Mister Laydon, but I have only pointless platitudes, designed to placate and dodge real thought. If I liked you better I'd give you some.

(To Sylvan)

I should be going. I was on my way to concoct figures and finalize sums to prove to the bishop that we're doing the work of the Lord. Piety is in the statistics, so I give him what will flimflam his fictive faith.

(To Laydon)

I'll list you as a soul saved, Mr. Laydon, since much of our reality is merely wishful thinking.

sylvan

That would be a good job for you, Mister Laydon.

laydon

What?

sylvan

Bishop. I think you should submit your application. The current one's into so many bad habits, he's bound for advancement. It's what's called the Saint Peter Principle.

sister

Oh, do think about it, Mister Laydon. Your religious convictions can be found later, if at all. The Pope just considers that gravy. You could be as miserable there as any place, plus you have us girls at the nunnery to squeeze the blackheads from your back, trim the hair from your ears, and wipe the spatters from your shoes when you miss the toilet bowl. Though I've never understood why, especially wearing a robe, you couldn't just sit for your release. Please consider it. Then we girls could spend a great deal more time with prayer and solitaire.

      Well, I'm very much behind now with my specious statistical stipulations. I really must rush off.

laydon

It's a good thing you've got your holy rollers.

(laydon laughs, then sylvan and sister join in.)

sister

I believe Mister Laydon must be wearing his jocular shorts.

sylvan

Sister, you are, in brief, hilarious.

(laydon suddenly becomes serious, walks to the railing, looks into the darkness. sylvan and sister notice the change in Laydon.)

sylvan

Go supplicate and fabricate. You mustn't make the bishop wait. I'll see what's going on with him.

(sister exits, skating, and reciting her prayer.)

sister

La madre de dio, benedice le schede di bingo. Il figlio de dio, benedice le schede di bingo ...

sylvan

Mister Laydon, what is wrong?

laydon

I just ... feel ... so worthless.

sylvan

Because of the bad decision you made.

laydon

Because of the joke I made! I laughed! -- experienced levity. Found a bit of enjoyment. How could I do that? Counterproductive, futile and wasteful. I can't do that kind of thing! There's not room in my life ...

sylvan

The laughter is what upsets you?

laydon

There are important matters to tend to. Matters that deal with money, for God's sake! Consideration of money is essential! Assets, appraisals, holdings! Losses!

      Yes, I made a mendacious decision -- granted, it was my decision based on someone else's decision who was influenced by some group decision or other, but a bad decision nonetheless -- and I have precipitated the ruin of friends and ... well, no, not friends really, more just acquaintances ... but these are people that I care about and ... well, no, they're really just business associates ... but some of them won't be able to send their sons to college now, or have the balls for their daughters' coming-out. These are people that ...

(A beat; with realization)

... hell, people that don't give a titmouse's butt hole about me. And now they won't be able to --

(Starts laughing)

They won't be able to have their faces forged and their scalps reseeded, their tummies tucked and butts built back. “I'm sorry, madam -- but those saddlebags are too far gone to get any help from silicone.” “I'm sorry, sir -- that rod of steel you held so dear has gotten all it will, I fear.”

(Yelling gleefully)

“Your money's gone, and -- “

(A beat; suddenly becoming solemn)

“-- so are you.”

(A beat; more to himself)

Had it all ... lost it all.

(sylvan now shows no interest in Laydon, which laydon doesn't notice yet.)

(continuing) laydon (continuing)

But ... I didn't have it all, did I? I ... I didn't have anything. Nothing that mattered. I'm right back where I started ... and that wasn't -- isn't a bad place to be! My wife and I found much more excitement and joy in hoping than we ever did in having.

      My friend, what you've been saying is beginning to make sense. Your thrashing and prodding are forcing me to discern ... meaning.

sylvan

(With no interest)

What?

laydon

Really! I ... I can feel inside ... feel something now ... something good taking hold. Something good is about to take place!

sylvan

I wonder ...

laydon

I don't see everything you've been talking about -- but I see enough to know there's something worth ... reaching for. Struggling for! I'm touching only the edges of it now, but I will find the heart of it!

sylvan

Oh, shit! Now I remember.

(sylvan goes to the rail, his hands searching frantically.)

(continuing) sylvan (continuing)

I had some twine tied right here. Somewhere. With a hook. I put cheese on it. No idea if a fish would go for cheese. Don't like it much myself, but a fish'll eat lots of crap I wouldn't touch. Now a catfish -- disgusting what it just scoops up off the bottom like it's his mama's home cooking -- and maybe it is, I don't know. Well, I threw the hook with cheese out there, later I pulled it up with this little fish on it -- maybe one inch long. I don't know what kind. I don't know fish. I recognize tuna if it's in the can, and says “Tuna” on the label. Well, I figured a one-inch fish wasn't worth much, though I've eaten smaller, so I left it on the hook and threw it back. Later, pulled it up, and there was this six-inch fish staring back at me. Left it on the hook, threw that back. Now while the second one was six times as big as the first one, the catch doesn't keep increasing exponentially. That would get out of hand. The next one was bigger, and then I got a bigger one that could feed me for a day or two. But I thought, okay, one more time. Get something big enough to feed me the rest of my life. But ... it's all gone. Everything. The hook, the line, the the the ...

laydon

Sinker?

sylvan

Ah, the hell with it! Try do something get a little bit ahead, some damned shark whale frigging Loch Ness monster grabs it all away from you for God's sake! It's nothing to that muddy sucker, but it's everything to me. End up nothing to show for all the goddamned work and time and hope I put into it. Once -- just once -- I'd like to really get something --

laydon

(Overlapping/interrupting)

Hey, hey! It's okay. It's just a fish. There are

sylvan and laydon

other fish in the goddamned ocean.

(continuing) sylvan (continuing)

I know and screw you! That is my fish out there! I worked for that damn fish, I waited for that damn fish, I deserve that damn fish!

(sylvan tears off his coat and hat, runs to railing. Underneath the coat, Sylvan is as well dressed as Laydon.)

(continuing) sylvan (continuing)

And I intend to get that goddamn fish! Go out there and find that fucking little wall-eyed monster!

(laydon takes off his coat, ready to dive in after Sylvan if necessary.)

laydon

Don't be stupid! It's dark out there. Water cold, filthy. That fish isn't hanging around out here waiting for you ...

(laydon is struggling with sylvan to keep him from jumping in.)

(continuing) laydon (continuing)

You'll die jump in that water now!

sylvan

All I want is that fish! If I can't have that skulky mother ...

(they struggle until laydon pulls sylvan away from the railing, and sylvan calms a little. We hear music fading in -- easy jazz, light rock.)

(continuing) sylvan (continuing)

Leave me alone! Just get your hands off-a me!

laydon

All right! Jeez. Try to help somebody, you act like an idiot ...

(laydon sees lollie approaching, pleased to see her. she wears heels and boa, and moves sensuously to the music.)

sylvan

I just want the goddamned fish! Is that too much to ask for?

laydon

Forget it. You lost the damned fish. I'll buy you a fish. What kind you like?

sylvan

I don't even like fish. It's the principle! I am entitled to my rightly earned increase!

laydon

I'll send for pizza. Any kind you like.

lollie

(To Laydon; seductively)

Hey. gorgeous. I didn't expect to find you here.

laydon

Hey yourself, beautiful. Haven't seen much of you lately.

lollie

And whose fault is that?

laydon

I take all the blame. “I've just been too busy.” I promise that is a phrase you will not hear from these lips again.

lollie

Mmm. Hard to believe, considering the promises those lips have made.

laydon

I've learned a long-overdue lesson.

lollie

Oh, my darling, I've prayed that you would.

(lollie and laydon kiss meaningfully.)

(continuing) lollie (continuing)

Oh, my. That, uh ... does spark some very heated memories.

laydon

We should rekindle only what we're willing to fan into raging flame.

lollie

Oooo, I'm glad I just cleaned my fireplace.

sylvan

Anything that doesn't have anchovies on it!

(Music fades out.)

lollie

Who is that?

 laydon

Sweetheart, I'd like you to meet my friend and teacher, Sylvan. He's been fishing but fears he may be the biggest sucker in the world. Sylvan, this is Lollie Popp.

lollie

We're not going to let a little adversity lick us, are we, Sylvan?

sylvan

I lost my fish.

laydon

It meant everything to him.

sylvan

It's out there somewhere and I want it back.

lollie

Why don't you look for it tomorrow? On a clear day you can see far over.

sylvan

Leave me alone. I detest people trying to impress people who are depressed people. Anguish is my God-given right when it's all I have left.

laydon

At least you have a sense of direction.

lollie

So many flavors, and he goes for the tart and sour. Well, he made his choice ... and I have made mine. Once again -- still -- I choose you, Mister Laydon, for I am persistent, even if, finally, you'll understand, somewhat dubious. There have been times when your generous words proved to have no measure, and your best intentions were never fueled. Yet I know you can be sweet and succulent, you can be savory with no bitter aftertaste. I remember those many nights that stretched into memories for a lifetime. Well, if I remember them always, they'll last a lifetime. If I don't remember them now, they didn't last a lifetime, did they? But the ones I still remember, I remember still.

(Music begins again and laydon pulls lollie into dance position. they dance sensuously for several seconds, until the music ends. they embrace, kiss again.

(A small fish flies out of the water onto the pier -- then a larger fish, then one larger, then the largest. sylvan runs over, takes the smallest fish, drops it into the water. Same with the next two largest. Then he picks up the largest one, views it with satisfaction, then drops it in. he goes to the kissing couple.)

sylvan

I just want you to know: it really was the principle.

lollie

And the fact that you have no pan ...

laydon

No fire ...

lollie

And no garlic-lemon sauce!

(A can of tuna comes flying onto stage. sylvan picks it up, reads the label.)

sylvan

Oh, great. And I have no can opener.

(With renewed rage, sylvan throws the can of tuna back and rushes to grab a coat -- picking up Laydon's -- and marches off. A can opener is flung onto the pier. laydon picks it up.)

laydon

One should always stay for the benediction.

(he puts the can opener in his pocket.)