A bar/restaurant ROBERT is sitting at a table reading a newspaper when BRIAN enters.
BRIAN: Hey, how are you doing?
ROBERT: Uh. Good. Good. Yourself?
BRIAN: Well, the back has been acting up a little but other than that, no complaints.
BRIAN sits.
BRIAN: Uh, my back. The wife thinks I oughta go to a chiropractor, but I agree with the AMA those chiropractors are nothing but voodoo-practicing witch doctors. Might as well try using leeches, huh? (laughs)
ROBERT: forced laugh. Yeah, I know what you mean.
ROBERT returns to reading his newspaper.
Pause
BRIAN: So, how bout those sons of bitches in Washington?
ROBERT: Uh…
BRIAN: I saw on the news today, just before I came here as a matter of fact, that Congress cut that budget proposal by a couple of million of dollars.
ROBERT: Huh. (beat) I didn’t…
BRIAN: Yep, that President thought he was all hot shit with his tax cuts, he thought he was just going to push it right through.
ROBERT: I see.
BRIAN: The Democrats aren’t going to take any of his shit. They cut it from 1.7 billion down to 1.5 billion.
ROBERT: Wow. That’s a…that’s a big victory for the Democrats.
They both sip their beers.
BRIAN: What do you think about that Spy Submarine of ours the Russians captured?
ROBERT: What do I think of it?
BRIAN: You know the one. It’s been all over the news. They collided with that buoy in the Black Sea and had to have an emergency docking at a Russian Naval base.
ROBERT: Oh, I know what you’re talking about.
BRIAN: See, my question is, why the hell didn’t we just send a few fighter jets over there to blow it up?
ROBERT: Blow up our own submarine?
BRIAN: Better than let them commies get their hands on our technology.
ROBERT: Commies?
BRIAN: We have the firepower. Just send two planes over there, blow it the hell up, and end it already.
ROBERT: What about the crew?
BRIAN: The crew? C’mon man, the crew’s been out of there for a week now, they’re in some pinko hotel somewhere eating borsht and sucking down potato vodka. The crew’s fine.
ROBERT: Well, don’t you think Russia may be alarmed to see two fighter jets, in attack position, swooping down on their Navy base?
BRIAN: What’s that?
ROBERT: Don’t you think, maybe it’s an overreaction? I mean how do you think we would react if two Russian fighter jets came charging at one of our military bases?
BRIAN: Well, we’d blow the sons of bitches out of the sky.
ROBERT: Exactly.
BRIAN: What’s your point?
ROBERT: My point is they have one of our subs. So be it. The crew’s fine, they’re going to be released. Who cares if they have access to our technology? It’s all Japanese technology anyway. Why make it worse by attacking?
BRIAN: Attacking what? It’s our goddamn sub?
ROBERT: But they have it. To blow it up, we’d have to send fighter jets into Russian airspace to blow it up. That’s an attack in my book.
BRIAN: Ah, what the hell do you know anyway? I was in the military. I fought and killed for your freedom. I was at Khe Shan, motherfucker, and don’t you forget it!
Pause
ROBERT: I’m sorry. Do I know you?
BRIAN: Oh, how rude. My name is Brian.
They shake hands
ROBERT: Robert. But, I don’t know you. Do I?
BRIAN: You do now.
ROBERT: I’m so…I don’t mean to be rude…
BRIAN: Oh, don’t worry about it. Yesterday, I went out and bought a shit load of those lights that come on when you press them.
ROBERT: Uh…
BRIAN: You’ve seen the commercials. They’re small and you can put them anywhere. I put mine in the bathroom. That way when I get up in the middle of the night to take a leak, I don’t have to blind myself by turning on the big light. You know I was reading an article and they say that’s bad because the bright light is a jolt to your brain, and you may have trouble going back to sleep.
ROBERT: Brian, this is all rather fascinating, but really…
BRIAN: The problem is the bastards take four goddamn double-A batteries. Four!
ROBERT: I see.
BRIAN: And another thing, when the bulb burns out, it’s a pain in the ass to change. You see the damn lights are so tiny, you have to get in there with a pair of pliers. When I first opened her up, I couldn’t see what I had to do. Then I just popped the old bulb out, then connected two wires and bang, bulbs out; and then you gotta squeeze another one in.
BRIAN finishes his beer.
BRIAN: What are you drinking?
ROBERT: Uh, Sam Addams…
BRIAN: shouts to the bar. Barkeep! Another round for my friend and me…
ROBERT: What? No, Brian, no…
BRIAN: Sam Addams and a Vodka and Cranberry.
ROBERT: No, really I’m alright…
BRIAN: to the bar. Put it on his bill.
ROBERT: Okay, look I’m not your friend. I don’t even know you. But, I’ll buy you a drink and then I’d like you to leave. I’m waiting here for my wife.
BRIAN: Wife? You’re married? I have a wife. She’s always on me about my bad back. Says I should go see a chiropractor.
ROBERT: exasperated. Uh-huh.
BRIAN: But I tell her, I agree with AMA…
ROBERT: Chiropractors are a bunch of voodoo-practicing witch doctors…
BRIAN: Yeah! You think so too? I tell her I might as well use leeches. Goddamn chiropractors!
ROBERT: My brother is a chiropractor.
BRIAN: Wow. Your brother? Given you’re intense hatred for chiropractors, I bet Christmas is pretty dicey at your house.
ROBERT: I don’t have an intense hatred for chiropractors, you do.
BRIAN: But, you just said, “They’re voodoo-practicing witch doctors.”
ROBERT: I was quoting something you said about three minutes ago. Now, look please enjoy your drink, it’s on me, but I’d really rather just sit here, read the paper and wait for my wife.
BRIAN: offended. Oh, I get it. I see. I can take a hint; I know when I’m not wanted. Well, let me tell you something: you, sir, are just plain rude.
ROBERT: offended. Rude? Me, rude? You’re the one who just came up completely out of the blue, started talking to me, peppering your conversation with horrible language, I might add, forced me to buy you a drink. And you’re calling me rude. I was just sitting here, quietly when you – a complete stranger – came over and harassed me.
BRIAN: Haven’t you ever heard a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met?
ROBERT: I’ve heard never talk to strangers.
BRIAN: Well, excuse me. I see a lonely pathetic-looking guy, by himself in a bar and I figure the Christian thing to do is walk over, introduce myself and be friendly.
ROBERT: Lonely? Pathetic?
BRIAN: Yes, so I figured maybe you needed a friend. I’d just introduce myself…
ROBERT: But you didn’t introduce yourself. You started in on some rant about Congress like you and I were old army buddies or something.
BRIAN: angrily. Army buddies? What do you know about army buddies, huh? You little shit. I held my army buddies’ heads in my lap as they gasped their last breath of air. I’m a Vietnam vet! Don’t you think you owe me?
ROBERT: Owe you? Owe you for what?
BRIAN: For protecting your ass from the communists! What were you doing during ‘Nam when I was in the shit? Listening to your ya-ya music? Getting stoned? Setting fires to recruitment offices? Going to orgies, burning your draft card, blowing your nose on the American Flag?
ROBERT: I was six years old.
BRIAN: mockingly. I was six years old.
ROBERT: Look, I really didn’t want this. This is extremely uncomfortable. So, please, I’m sorry if I offended you but I would like to be left alone.
BRIAN: Fine.
BRIAN walks away. ROBERT goes back to reading the paper.
BRIAN re-enters immediately with flowers.
BRIAN: Robert, I’m sorry to have bothered you.
ROBERT: Huh? What? Wh – where did you get those?
BRIAN: From the florist next door.
ROBERT: That quickly?
BRIAN: Well, I thought long and hard about it and I really am sorry.
ROBERT: Brian, that’s a nice gesture and all…
BRIAN: Please, I want you to have these.
ROBERT: Brian, really thank you, but to be honest I’d feel a little funny accepting flowers from another man.
BRIAN: They don’t have to be for you. You can give them to your wife.
ROBERT: Well, that is extremely gracious of you, and I’d like to apologize for snapping earlier.
BRIAN: No problem. I was way out of line.
ROBERT: Don’t worry about it, really….
Uncomfortable silence. ROBERT starts to read the paper and BRIAN sits.
ROBERT: Uh, Brian?
BRIAN: You know, I was in the mall today and you know what I noticed? The mannequins have nipples now.
ROBERT: Nipples?
BRIAN: Yeah, on their breasts, they have these hard nipples showing through their shirts. What’s the point of nipples on a mannequin? Or, on a man for that matter?
ROBERT: Uh, I never really noticed the nipples on mannequins…
BRIAN’S wife, NAOMI enters.
BRIAN: Speaking of nipples, check out the headlights on her.
ROBERT: That’s my wife.
BRIAN: Wow, she has a really nice set on her. That’s a world-class rack.
ROBERT: Horrified. I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about my wife like that. She’s not some object for you to leer at. It’s degrading to talk about my wife’s breasts…
NAOMI: What about my breasts?
ROBERT: surprised. Honey!
BRIAN: Your husband was just comparing your nipples to the nipples on the mannequins at the mall.
NAOMI: I see. And you are?
ROBERT: confused and embarrassed. This is, uh, Brian.
BRIAN: I’m an old, old friend of Robert’s. He told me you were coming so I got you these flowers.
He hands her the flowers.
NAOMI: How sweet. Are you going to be joining us for dinner?
ROBERT: Honey…
BRIAN: Nah, I don’t want to impose.
NAOMI: Don’t be silly, I’ll get the waiter.
NAOMI waves to the waiter who enters.
ROBERT: Honey, I think Brian may have…>
NAOMI: Robert! I’ve never met Brian before, or any of your friends for that matter. You’re so mysterious when it comes to your friends. I insist that Brian join us.
ROBERT: under his breath. <…may have some mental problems.
BRIAN: Well, thank you. I don’t believe I caught your name. Robert’s spoken so much about you, well actually more about your breasts than you but he never told me your name.
NAOMI: My name’s Naomi. Where do you and Robert know each other from?
BRIAN: We know each other from when we worked for the government.
NAOMI: You never told me you worked for the government.
ROBERT: nervously. I didn’t? Silly me.
THE WAITER comes up to the table and hands out menus.
WAITER: Can I get you some drinks while you look at the menus?
BRIAN: Sure. I’ll have another vodka and cranberry. Robert, Naomi?
ROBERT: I’m fine.
NAOMI: I’ll have a glass of Merlot.
WAITER: All right, take your time with the menus; I’ll be right back with your drinks.
NAOMI: So, what do you do for a living, Brian?
BRIAN: This and that. Right now I’m working in plastics.
NAOMI: Oh, plastics, like in The Graduate. “I have one word for you, son: plastics.” I love that movie. That’s the first film Robert and I saw together.
BRIAN: Um, The Graduate? Never heard of it. Anyway, Naomi, I don’t know if you know it or not but, our little Robert here use to be quite the ladies’ man back in the day.
NAOMI: Really?
BRIAN: Yep. Different woman on his arm, then in his bed, every night. Every time we went out he was like a sailor on shore leave.
NAOMI: concerned. I never heard that.
ROBERT: anxiously. Well, that was before you came along, dear. You changed all that for me; you’re the only woman I want now.
NAOMI: Well, that’s a relief.
NAOMI kisses ROBERT’S head. NAOMI picks up the newspaper ROBERT was reading.
NAOMI: What’s this? Oh dear, another school shooting.
ROBERT: Really? Where?
NAOMI: In a suburb of Chicago. You didn’t read this?
ROBERT: Uh, no I didn’t get to it yet.
NAOMI: It’s on the front page!
ROBERT: Well, yeah I got distracted before I could read the paper.
BRIAN: This is getting ridiculous. Every other day another maniac kid is walking into a school and opening fire.
NAOMI: I know it’s so sad.
BRIAN: Not to mention boring and predictable. Can’t any of these kids come up with anything more creative? Like land mines, releasing an airborne virus, or at least showing up to class and going buck wild with a machete? Kids today just don’t give a damn anymore. There’s no effort. No initiative!
NAOMI: I also think it’s indicative of the times.
BRIAN: Exactly. Nowadays these kids get picked on and they show up with a gun the next day and just start randomly firing at other kids. In my day, if you had a problem with someone, it was mano y mano. One on one. Somebody would pick on you you’d show up the next day at recess and just shoot him.
NAOMI: O-kay.
BRIAN: You still a big football fan, Robert?
ROBERT: still overwhelmed by Brian’s presence. Uh, uh, yeah sure I guess.
BRIAN: I sure hope Higgins can play this Sunday. We’re going to need his offense.
NAOMI: Why, what happened to Higgins?
ROBERT: He took a real hard hit towards the end of the game Sunday. He has bad ribs.
BRIAN: I had real bad ribs once, but I just told the waitress to take them back.
ROBERT and NAOMI just stare at BRIAN not getting his joke.
THE WAITER comes back with the drinks.
WAITER: Here you go one Merlot and one vodka and cranberry…
WAITER spills the drink in BRIAN’S lap.
WAITER: Oh, I’m sorry, sir.
BRIAN: Goddamn it! Sarcastically. What the hell happened? Did your fingers get in the way?
WAITER: I’m sorry, sir. Let me dry you off.
BRIAN: No, that’s okay. Only the wife puts her hand in my lap these days. Though I am willing to listen to any offers from Naomi here. Ha! Just kidding. I’m going to the can to dry off.
BRIAN exits. LANCE PHILLIPS enters and runs up to the table as WAITER exits.
LANCE: Quickly. I want to warn you, Boris is onto you.
ROBERT: What? Who are you?
LANCE: I’m Lance Phillips, Special Covert Operative Director of the Special Covert Operative Forces.
LANCE flashes credentials
LANCE: I’m your inside guy. HQ thought it’d be better if we never met. That way there’d be no chance of either one of us blowing the cover.
NAOMI: Do you know this man, Robert?
ROBERT: I have no idea who this man is.
LANCE: I see you’ve been trained very well.
ROBERT: Trained?
LANCE: We want to bring you in from the cold, but Boris is on to you. I paid the waiter fifty bucks to have him spill the drink on Boris, that way I’d have this opportunity to bring you up to speed.
ROBERT: I think there may be some mistake.
LANCE: You’re a good, man. But it’s okay, you’re among friendlies now. Stay calm; I’ll be out by the bar. We have the place surrounded; no harm should come of you. Just give the signal and we’ll swarm.
NAOMI: Robert, what is going on here?
ROBERT: Honestly, sweetheart, I have no idea.
LANCE exits as BRIAN enters.
BRIAN: Hey, you know you don’t even have to flush the urinals here? They’re automatic! Wow, modern technology. (beat) Who was that guy?
ROBERT: nervously What guy?
BRIAN: The guy who was just at the table when I got back from the john.
ROBERT: Oh, him? Amway salesman.
BRIAN: Amway salesman?
ROBERT: Yeah, they go table to table now as well as door to door.
BRIAN: What will they think of next?
LANCE enters and hugs the back wall nervously looking at ROBERT.
BRIAN: noticing LANCE. We don’t want any!
LANCE quickly turns his head to the back wall and inches off stage.
ROBERT: So…
BRIAN: What were we talking about? Oh, yeah. Football.
ROBERT: Suspicious of BRIAN and not knowing what is going on. Yes. (beat) Football.
BRIAN: Should be a great game Sunday. With or without Higgins.
ROBERT: Yeah there’s a, uh, a lot of bad blood between these two teams. Be a, uh, real grudge match.
NAOMI: Oh yeah I was listening to Sports Talk Radio today; they said there’s a big feud between these two teams.
BRIAN: Feud. Ha. I’ll tell you about a real feud.
NAOMI: Really? Between who?
BRIAN: Me and (beat) Dave Thomas, founder of Wendy’s.
NAOMI: How so?
BRIAN: Well, I’d use to write to Dave every day. I’d tell him how much I loved his square burgers and how I thought those tables they had at Wendy’s with old newspapers under the glass were so cool.
NAOMI: They were cool. Weren’t they Robert?
ROBERT: sharply. Yes. Cool.
BRIAN: So, I’d call him at night and tell him I loved his commercials and that I looked up to him as a father figure and to ask him if he dreamed of me the way I dreamed of him.
NAOMI: How sweet.
BRIAN: So then, a couple of years back that movie, Good Burger, you remember the one starring the two non-threatening urban youths? “Welcome to Good Burger, home of the Good Burger. Can I take your order?” Well when that movie came out, I called Dave and asked if he’d like to take a trip with me down to the local theater to watch it. Cause, you know I figured he’s in the hamburger industry.
NAOMI: Of course.
BRIAN: sadly. Well, Dave didn’t want to go to the movie with me. As a matter of fact, he took out a restraining order against me. I spent three months upstate because I slept in his rose garden one night. (Sighs) So, as a result of my doing time, I lost my job test wearing ladies’ pantyhose. They said they couldn’t have some freak employed there. Then my dog died because I was jobless and I couldn’t afford to feed him anymore. It was horrible.
NAOMI: Oh, you poor dear. Are you okay now?
BRIAN: Yeah, I’m not bitter or anything. When Dave died I forgot all about the late-night hang-ups, the threatening legal correspondence, waking up with a greasy square burger patty in the foot of my bed. All I could remember was that impish grin and those cute pinch-able checks. Yes, Dave’s passed on and I’ve moved on with my life. (beat) Now only if that bastard Colonel Sanders would return my calls.
THE WAITER comes over.
BRIAN: Hey, butterfingers!
WAITER: Here’s another Vodka and Cranberry, sir. I do apologize for spilling the last one.
BRIAN: obnoxiously You know I think I prefer it this way: in a glass as opposed to being in my lap.
WAITER: Very good, sir. Are you ready to order?
BRIAN: I think we are. Robert, are you sure you want to pick up the tab on this one?
ROBERT: Uh?
NAOMI: How generous of you, honey.
NAOMI kisses ROBERT on the cheek.
ROBERT: Well that’s me: Generous.
BRIAN: Well, I’ll have the lobster and a little caviar. And let’s see a bottle of your finest Champagne. Do you have Cristal?
WAITER: But, of course.
BRIAN: A bottle of that.
ROBERT stares daggers at BRIAN.
WAITER: Okay. And for the lady?
NAOMI: That lobster sounds good. But, I was hoping to have steak tonight. I’ve been in the mood for meat all day. However, that lobster is tempting.
BRIAN: Tell you what, I’m pretty hungry, so I’ll have two lobsters, you can get the steak and have some of my second lobster.
NAOMI: That’s a great idea, Brian. Isn’t that a great idea, Robert?
ROBERT: Absolutely brilliant.
WAITER: Okay, and for you, sir?
ROBERT: still staring angrily at Brian bitterly says: I’ll have a salad.
WAITER: What kind of salad?
ROBERT: still staring at Brian Just a regular salad.
WAITER: Uh, yes. And for your main course?
ROBERT: never taking his eyes off of Brian Just put some lettuce in a bowl and bring it to me with a glass of water.
WAITER: Okay, sir.
WAITER takes menus and leaves.
NAOMI: Are you on a diet, sweetie?
ROBERT: You could say that.
BRIAN: So, why don’t you tell me how you two met?
NAOMI: Well, Robert use to sell shoes at the local mall, and one day I went in to buy a pair of pumps. And the way he handled my feet, I knew he was the one for me.
BRIAN: That’s very romantic.
LANCE enters and moves very slowly and conspicuously across the back of the stage.
NAOMI: Are you married, Brian?
ROBERT: Oh God.
BRIAN: Yes. 25 years. I love her to death. She stood by me during that whole ugly Dave Thomas incident. The love of a good woman is all you need in this world.
NAOMI: Oh that’s so sweet.
BRIAN: Not that we don’t have our problems though, but I guess everyone does.
NAOMI: Who doesn’t? I hate Robert’s mother.
ROBERT: What?
BRIAN: Yeah well, the wife is always on me about my bad back.
ROBERT: Here we go.
BRIAN: She keeps telling me to see a chiropractor.
LANCE is signaling to ROBERT, who is squinting trying to make out what LANCE is trying to say.
NAOMI: Robert’s brother is a chiropractor, and he’s an asshole.
ROBERT turns quickly to NAOMI reacting to the remark, then turns his attention back to LANCE.
BRIAN: Oh most of them are. I tell my wife I agree with the AMA. Chiropractors are nothing but a bunch of voodoo-practicing…
BRIAN is distracted by ROBERT who is now motioning to LANCE.
BRIAN: What the hell are you doing?
ROBERT: What?
BRIAN: What are you doing? I’m telling a story here and you’re being very rude.
BRIAN glances back at LANCE
BRIAN: Oh, him again? I told you, we don’t want any! Now, piss off you bloodsucker! Goddamn Amway. Oh, sorry, dear, I forgot there was a lady present.
LANCE quickly exits.
NAOMI: Oh it’s okay. I don’t mind cursing. I’m liberated. See. Mother-fucker. Laughs.
ROBERT: shocked. Naomi!
NAOMI: Son of a bitch.
ROBERT: Naomi, please this is very embarrassing.
NAOMI: Oh, it’s not embarrassing when we’re in bed and you’re asking me to talk to you like that.
ROBERT: What goes on in our bedroom is no one else’s business. Especially, Brian’s.
BRIAN: Oh, I don’t mind. Tell me everything you want to about your sex life.
LANCE enters again carrying a potted plant in front of him.
BRIAN: So, you two like to talk a lot in bed?
NAOMI: Oh yeah, Robert says it intensifies his…
BRIAN: My wife’s a big talker. Always yelling and screaming for me to make her feel like a real woman. She’s always yelling, “That’s it! Do it harder! Get your back checked!” She gets a lot more graphic, but we’re about to eat.
LANCE: blurting. The Chevy is in the garage!
BRIAN: What did that guy just say?
NAOMI: Oh, I think he must’ve escaped from a mental institution or something. When you were in the bathroom he came over and started saying the strangest things about Boris being onto Robert and how Robert was some spy.
BRIAN: Is that so?
ROBERT: Honey…
LANCE: Sandra Bullock is Satan’s mistress.
BRIAN: stiffening. Jennifer Aniston is Beelzebub’s bride.
LANCE freezes, drops the plant then runs off stage.
THE WAITER enters with the food.
WAITER: Here’s your steak, ma’am. Here’s your salad, sir. And here’s your lobster.
WAITER spills the plate into Brian’s lap.
BRIAN: Jesus Christ, you’re clumsier than two drunks making love. You’re lucky these pants are made of plastic or I’d have your job.
BRIAN storms off again followed by THE WAITER. LANCE enters quickly.
LANCE: I paid the waiter a hundred dollars to spill the lobsters in Boris’ lap. I have to tell you, this international spying is more expensive than I thought.
ROBERT: Alright, look. You have to let me know what’s going on. I don’t know any Boris. I’m not a spy. I don’t really even follow politics.
LANCE: Look, you’re very convincing, Eagle, but you don’t have to keep up this façade anymore. I’m on your side. Now, Boris, on the other hand, is definitely onto us being onto him. It may have something with your lovely wife here basically telling him we were onto him.
NAOMI: Well, I’m sure I’m sorry.
LANCE: I’m sure you are! Look, he’s probably going to try to kill you. You know how ruthless these Soviet Communists are.
ROBERT: Soviets? Communists? Look, I don’t follow politics but I do know that the Soviet Union fell back in 19…
LANCE: We don’t have time for any history lessons from you, Eagle. Whatever you do, don’t go home with him.
ROBERT: Why would I?
LANCE: Well, his MO is he usually tries to engage couples into a three-some. He’ll probably bring up sex in some way and your bedroom habits.
ROBERT: Well, Lady Chatterley here already took care of that.
NAOMI: Sorry.
LANCE: Damnit! Ma’am, pardon me for saying this but you are really making my job much more difficult than it should be. (beat) Alright, eventually he’s going to show you, Eagle, a picture of his wife. It’s not really his wife but Jayne Mansfield in a wet tee shirt. Don’t be fooled, the stunning Ms. Mansfield has been dead for over four decades now. However, the picture is used to get you interested in returning home with him for a night of passion. Once all your wildest fantasies and desires are fulfilled, he kills you. Kinda like a kinky black widow but in reverse he’s male, not female and he kills spies for a foreign government, not his mate. You follow?
ROBERT: I…guess so.
NAOMI: Well, how is he going to try to seduce me?
LANCE: Well, the thing is he paid the bartender a sawbuck to put an aphrodisiac in your drink. It’s a little-known fact but restaurant wait staffs are synonymous with International Espionage. I suspect you’ll be half-naked and begging strange men to take you in the most gruesome ways on the table before Eagle finishes his salad.
ROBERT: Look; now I’ve had just about enough of this. Is this some joke? Is there some video camera hidden behind those ferns over there? Seriously, is Alan Funt here? Alan? Alan?!
LANCE: I think you’re a little paranoid, Eagle, but that’s good. Paranoia keeps you sharp. The only cameras here are the seventy-five miniature infrared, X-ray cameras trained on every inch of your body. Also, Alan Funt is a very antiquated reference. Shit, Boris is coming back. Remember don’t go home with him. And please try not to let him kill you. Our boss would be extremely upset.
LANCE exits, BRIAN enters.
BRIAN: suspiciously. Was that guy bothering you again? God, I hate…salesmen. Almost as much as I hate…chiropractors.
ROBERT: Look…
BRIAN: You know the wife and I went to a comedy club last night. The comic was terrible. His whole schtick was changing around punch lines.
NAOMI: Oh yeah, like what?
BRIAN: What’s the difference between a pregnant woman and a light bulb?
NAOMI: What?
BRIAN: A pregnant woman is a human female with a fetus in her womb and a light bulb is a glass bulb with a chemical filament that, when electronically heated, gives off light.
NAOMI and ROBERT stare blankly at BRIAN.
BRIAN: I didn’t get it either. The original punch line is, you can unscrew the light bulb.
Speaking of screwing, Robert, did I show you a picture of my wife?
ROBERT: Look, Lance told us all about this so I think you’re wasting…takes a picture from Brian. Wow!
NAOMI is slightly gyrating in her chair
BRIAN: I was thinking that after the meal maybe the two of you would like to go back to my house to meet the wife and have a few drinks.
ROBERT: Standing up. Look, I know exactly what’s going on here. Well, no not exactly. I actually have no idea what’s going on here. But I suspect that you want me and her to go back to your house, have a threesome…
NAOMI: lustily. Oh yes. That sounds hot…
ROBERT: And then you’re going to kill us. But, I want to let you know, that I’m not this Eagle guy, and I don’t know who Boris is if that is you. You’ve obviously mistaken me for someone else. We’ve never met. I’m not a spy. If you are, then, good for you. But, I want you to know that the United Soviet Socialist Republic was dissolved back in 1991, it no longer exists.
BRIAN: angrily. Sit down right now.
ROBERT: meekly. Yes, sir.
BRIAN: They’ve trained you well, Eagle, but you don’t fool me. You remember me, and the betrayal in Afghanistan. Don’t you even dare tell me you don’t remember, because it would kill me if you don’t even remember what I’ve been trying to forget for close to three decades. The word is out my friend, that you are the informer, who gave me away without so much as a fight. So, be a good friend and let me take you quietly, without a fight. I’ll be the one to take you home tonight. I’ll be the one to take you home tonight.
ROBERT: Seriously, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Also, I believe you just infringed on many copyrighted song lyrics.
NAOMI: straddling the table leg. You can take me home tonight.
BRIAN: Infringing on song lyrics no longer worries me, mate. What worries me is seeking my vengeance on you. Since the fall of ’81 when you handed me over to those Afghan rebels, your name has haunted me. I’ve followed every step you took from Kenya to Tripoli to London to Dublin to Detroit then back to Dublin then finally here. Do you know how much money I’ve spent bribing wait staffs in restaurants throughout the world? And now, I’ve found you and it was all worth it. The sweet taste of revenge that I’m enjoying right this moment is almost worth the three years I spent in that rebel camp, toiling day in and day out making those mujahideen bastards ice cream sundae after ice cream sundae. Sure, they may want to bring civilization back to the 13th Century but they sure do love 21st Century desserts! Do you know what scooping ice cream for three years straight does to the wrist and elbow?
ROBERT: nervously. Well, you do have very nice forearms.
BRIAN: Really? Thank you. I do like to keep in…that’s not the point! The point is after twenty-five years I’ve finally got you in my cross-hairs.
ROBERT: nervously. Lance!
BRIAN: Oh, Eagle how I’ve waited for this day.
ROBERT: LANCE!
BRIAN: When you get to hell, I want you to let all the tortured souls know that the eternity of torment you are all experiencing is a relief compared to the misery I put you through before I sent you to meet the dark lord, and that you now personally no longer fear him because you intimately knew the true Prince of Pain here on Earth!
NAOMI: Oh baby, are you into pain? I like it rough. Very rough!
ROBERT: Lance! Help me! Lance! Lance! I got a murderous mad man and a sadistic nymphomaniac on my hands here!
LANCE: from offstage: Use the codeword!
ROBERT: Codeword?
LANCE: I’m not authorized to interfere with the operation until I hear the code word.
ROBERT: Waiter!
BRIAN: So, you have a friend here. I suppose they were bringing you in from the cold? Well, Eagle, sorry to disappoint you, but you’re going to be experiencing a cold you never knew before – as I slowly drain your body of all its blood.
ROBERT: Lance, seriously!
BRIAN: Do you want to know what I’m going to do to you, or should I demonstrate on your lovely wife while you watch first?
NAOMI: rips off her blouse and hops on top of the table. Oh, I can’t take it anymore demonstrate all over me! I want you to take me right here on this table, you magnificent beast!
LANCE runs in, gun drawn.
LANCE: Don’t move, Boris! Lance Phillips, Special Covert Operative Director of the Special Covert Operative Forces.
BRIAN: Phillips! You bastard, I thought I smelled you when I entered the bar.
LANCE: That wasn’t me; I’ve had those glands surgically taken care of. And now, I’m going to take care of you, you murdering back-stabbing son of a bitch.
BRIAN: Amway salesman, eh? Good cover, Eagle. Ha, I should’ve known it was you, Phillips. But I didn’t recognize you without your head up Rumsfield’s ass.
LANCE: The only part of my body going into another man’s rectum is my foot into yours.
ROBERT: It’s about time you came out here, Lance!
LANCE: I told you, I had to wait until I heard the code to swarm.
ROBERT: Well, what’s the code?
LANCE: Magnificent beast. D’uh.
ROBERT: Isn’t that two words?
LANCE: “Code phrase” or “Codewords” don’t sound as good codeword.” But, whatever, we got the job done.
ROBERT: Okay, that’s great. Can I go now? Can I leave this madness?
NAOMI: back to normal. No, actually. Sorry, Robert but this was all an act.
ROBERT: What?
NAOMI: These guys are all actors from the local community theater. I hired them to do this.
ROBERT: What? Why would you do that?
NAOMI: I think it’s fairly obvious what I’m trying to tell you: I want a divorce.
ROBERT: Divorce? (beat) Obvious?
NAOMI: Yes. There’s nothing left in our marriage, it’s dull and stagnate. And I’ve been having a torrid affair with Brian here.
BRIAN: It’s true. You and I have been swimming in the same pool for about a year now, mate.
ROBERT: Swimming in the same pool? What? Uh, honey, eh, I’m speechless.
NAOMI: she crosses and stands next to Brian. Sorry. I feel much more fulfilled with Brian, in more ways than one. I love him and we’re moving to Malibu, I’m getting plastic surgery and I’m becoming an actress. Brian’s gonna join me. It’ll be so romantic.
BRIAN: he puts his arm around Naomi. We’ll be like Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward.
ROBERT: I’m sorry you feel that way, Naomi. I just want you to know that I still love you, and you’ll always know where to find me if you need me. I’ll wait forever for you to return to me, my beloved.
NAOMI: Oh Christ, Robert. Have some dignity.
ROBERT: Sorry.
THE WAITER enters behind BRIAN.
WAITER: Excuse me, sir, your second lobster will be done shortly.
BRIAN: Huh?
Brian turns to face the waiter. ROBERT crouches and pulls a gun from an ankle holster. LANCE and ROBERT fire at BRIAN. NAOMI screams and hits the floor.
BRIAN: My God, you shot me in the face. In the face. My face is my livelihood, you heartless bastards.
BRIAN stumbles backward and turns, THE WAITER pulls out a gun and fires two rounds into BRIAN’S chest. BRIAN falls.
BRIAN: I should’ve known. Never…trust…the…wait staff…they…are… the three-dollar whores…of the spy…game.
BRIAN dies.
LANCE, ROBERT, and THE WAITER stand around the body.
LANCE: Good work, Eagle.
ROBERT: You too, Phillips.
LANCE: to the waiter. Nice shot, Keller.
WAITER: Thank you, sir.
ROBERT: We’ll see you at the rendezvous point at 11 hundred hours.
WAITER: Roger.
THE WAITER exits.
NAOMI: What the hell is going on?
LANCE: Sorry, sweetie. We had to kill Boris. He knew too much about our top-secret operation to blow up our own submarine which the Russians are holding in dry dock.
NAOMI: So, so, he was a spy all along?
ROBERT: Yes, and not a half-bad actor. I saw him at the community theater’s production of Dreamcoat last August. He was terrific.
NAOMI: So you were a spy all along?
ROBERT: Yes. Sorry, we had to use you in our twisted web of lies, double-crosses then, finally, the almost unbearable and insulting triple-cross. This was all an elaborate ruse. We knew Boris would escape Afghanistan once we invaded. He’d ultimately come looking for me and we knew his MO. He was a scoundrel at heart; he’d love nothing more than to get back at me by first bedding my wife. We needed you as bait.
NAOMI: So, the wedding, the vows, the love, our dog, Trevor, the years together they were all fake?
ROBERT: Well, Trevor is real. But to answer your question, everything else was a lie. I’m actually happily married and living somewhere back east. I would tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.
NAOMI: You’re not going to kill me now?
LANCE: Don’t be silly, the CIA is not a bunch of heartless murderers.
NAOMI: You’re not?
ROBERT: No. That’s just PR. It makes us look fearsome. We’re more into arts and crafts than brutal murders.
NAOMI: But, you just told me about the plan to blow up our own sub. Isn’t that dangerously classified information that I’m now aware of…wouldn’t you want to kill a person who knows stuff like that?
LANCE: What did we just say? Just, shut up, okay?
NAOMI: sadly. Oh, okay.
ROBERT: Well, I never liked this part of the job. Leaving my fake wives has never been easy.
NAOMI: Oh baby, I’m so sorry.
ROBERT: It’s okay, darling. I’m the one who should apologize. (beat) A government employee should be by within the week to pick up my stuff. And Trevor. Along with anything I’ve ever bought you. Including the car…and the house.
NAOMI: The house?
LANCE: Technically it’s government property.
ROBERT: Please be out by Friday.
NAOMI: Where will I live?!
LANCE: Well, you could put a bid in on the house when it goes up for auction next month.
NAOMI begins crying and runs off.
LANCE: Poor kid.
ROBERT: Yeah that’s never easy.
LANCE exits. ROBERT is alone on stage with BRIAN’S body.
ROBERT: It is a hell of a world, Boris. You truly were a worthy adversary. I spent a majority of my life matching wits with you and…I guess you could say you made me the man I am today…that you completed me even. You were my reason to live in a way. It almost makes me sad to think that, in a moment, we’ll be cutting off your extremities and removing your teeth with a rusty pair of pliers before we dissolve the rest of your remains in a vat of acid.
ROBERT pauses for a moment and looks away from BRIAN’S corpse.
ROBERT: Whatever shall I do with my life now?
The End.
Copyright 2021 Joseph M. Boylan. Published May 22, 2021
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