BABE: Killing! Killing! Killing!
JOHN: CLICK!
BABE: ESPN!
JOHN: Yes! Yes! Yes!
BABE: Sports! Scores! Highlights! Hypnotizing sound bites. Sports! Scores! Highlights! Goooooo
Team! [JOHN cheers. BABE stops haltingly.] Hup. Ben Gay Commercial. [JOHN whines.] Oh! Miller Lite! [Another aggravated whine from JOHN.] Rogaine! Solo flex! Tough Actin' Tinactin!
JOHN: Click.
BABE: Killing.
JOHN: Click.
BABE: Killing
JOHN: Click.
BABE: Scrambled porno channel, porn, I think, can't see, lips, fuzz, breast, garble, sex act! Scramble--
JOHN: Damn!
[JOHN inquisitively crosses to TV and fiddles with BABE's knobs and wires.]
BABE: Hey! What are you doing? Garble-fuzz. The channel's scram-scrambled, you have to pay! [JOHN gives the side of her TV a little whack with his hand.] Ow! John so help me- --Visual! Breasts! Legs! Hair! Scramble-scram-scramble. Stop it John! This
Is degrading!
JOHN: There's men in them too-- From what I hear!
BABE: Watch your stupid sports!
JOHN: Forget it. OFF.
BABE: Power down.
[Her screen blacks out and she sits.]
JOHN: [Taking room in:] What a dump.
[DAD, DICK, and SMITTY suddenly appear behind the bed laughing. They wear white furry hotel bathrobes and carry martinis and cigars.]
DAD: What a dump. Hey, what's that from? "What a dump." What picture was that? Who said what a dump imitating Bette Davis saying what a dump?
DICK: Elizabeth Taylor.
DAD: Elizabeth Taylor. Was it Elizabeth Taylor?
DICK: Yea, Liz Taylor. She was barkin' at Dick Burton.
DAD: Dick Burton?
SMITTY: "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"
DAD: Yea, that's right, Liz Taylor. What a bitch.
[A beat. Then all three burst out laughing. They cross to John.]
SMITTY: You'd never catch me in this fleabag
DICK: Or any fleabag
DAD: Sittin' on my ass
DICK: Watchin' TV
SMITTY: Sleepin' and takin' a shower! All it's good for
DICK: All it's supposed to do
DAD: What're you doin' Johnny? You got frames to sell.
JOHN: Goddamnit! I had them sold. Twice! [To DICK:] To you! [To SMITTY:] And to you! These damn frames have been sold more times than cut heroine
[He sees DAD. A big Beat.] No. Wait. It was you. You kicked off Dick and Smitty before I could sell ‘em!
DAD: Damn right.
JOHN: What is this? A curse?
DAD: You're gonna have to earn this one Johnny.
JOHN: What?
DAD: These are my contacts John.
JOHN: So?
DAD: So!!
DICK: I do believe the boy thinks himself a salesman.
DAD: Those weren't sales son.
SMITTY: That was your father!
DICK: Your father was behind every sale you ever made!
JOHN: Bullshit.
SMITTY: Every dollar that nestled in your wallet
DICK: Every ounce of food on your plate
SMITTY: Every pinko liberal college class
DAD: Was on account of dear ol' Dad.
JOHN: That's not true.
DAD: You know it is.
JOHN: Well not anymore!
SMITTY/DICK/DAD: That's right! Cause you're gonna buy your own damn house!
DAD: Sales is a powerful tool son, it gets you what you want out of life.
JOHN: No! This is all just a fluke. A freak occurrence. I'm not going to be that person-- I don't want to be that person!
SMITTY: What? A dinosaur?
DICK: Salesmen built this nation!
JOHN: A strip mall!
[JOHN goes to pick up the TV remote. SMITTY grabs it.]
SMITTY: Ach! You want this?
DICK: The TV
you want the TV?
SMITTY: Smart guy's gonna figure it all out for us
DICK: Yea, he's gonna change the world
SMITTY: Just him, in his house
DICK: With his dog, and his coffee
SMITTY: Just as soon as he finishes watchin' some TV.
DAD: Get off your ass Johnny. You got frames to sell.
SMITTY: Toughen up his nuts! My nuts are tough!
DAD: Come here. How ‘bout that cute little girl with the glasses at the front desk. Put on some pants-- sell her some frames. She'll tell the waiter in the lounge
they want you to take their money!
DICK: Dad gummit, God forbid you might get a date.
JOHN: [Snagging the remote and giving out a little laugh.] A date? Who needs a date? Click.
BABE: Power Up! [BABE's screen lights up. She pulls off her robeshe's dressed in leather.] Welcome to "Hot Fantasies"-- You hotel's premium channel for adult features.
DAD: What's this?
BABE: It's warped is what it is.
DICK: Gol-durnit, I don't remember this on my business trips.
JOHN: Bed and a shower ain't all it's good for.
BABE: You're not really this pathetic are you? Huh guys?
[The salesmen each grab a beer and sit on the bed.]
JOHN: Survival Guide for Salespeople Chapter 3, last paragraph. A Radio Shack de-scrambler is a good investment. What's on tonight Babe?
BABE: It's an exotic romp through one woman's fantasies as a receptacle of pleasure and a provider of lust.
SMITTY: Liz Taylor!
BABE: Tonight's feature, "Deep
Inside." Oh, brother
Stars Babe Bighooters taking on the delights of three older, well endowed salesmen in a three on one romp
[A beat.] Wait. What?
DAD: All right!
SMITTY: Let's go!
DICK: Yum. Yum.
[DAD, DICK, SMITTY approach BABE.]
BABE: John, turn it off. No. Turn it off John! Turn it off! Stop watching! John!
JOHN: Power Down!
[BABE's TV light goes out. The salesmen are disappointed. BLACKOUT. A phone rings. Lights up. John is sitting up in bed. GREG enters with a ringing phone. He picks up the handle and offers it to a waking JOHN.]
GREG: Intentions John. What are your intentions?
[JOHN takes the handle. GREG exits.]
JOHN: [Into phone:] Hello? [To audience:] Waste of a perfectly good wake-up call.
[Cross fade to SHELLY. She enters talking on her cell phone and takes over her hotel room. She is an older woman with super permed hair. She looks a bit frumpy even in her all black "fresh from a funeral" dress. She is still attractive, but decades of sales work have definitely taken their toll. She pulls out a PowerBook and computer printouts. She is trying to put on her best smile.]
SHELLY: Well they said they'll take their chances-- price over service, you know: It's just a change in the weather is all- Buying direct is a whole different animal, especially foe a 150-store chain-- Everybody'll be back. Back to Dupree Distribution in no time. I'll be at their door and on their phone day and night. Dupree is still going to be the biggest distributor in the Bay area
did I tell you I have an appointment with Walgreen's? There is so much business we can just barely keep track of it all!
[Spot on BABE, also talking on cell phone.]
BABE: Shelly. Stop. Fast Forward. Let us get to the part where we talk about your failure.
SHELLY: What?
BABE: That is what this conversation is all about isn't it? You're not going to be able to pay me this month.
SHELLY: Sure I am. [A beat.] Give me a couple of weeks.
BABE: Your failure is complete.
SHELLY: We're going to get them back it's just a matter of
BABE: Hold on
Shelly
will you hold on for two seconds
[Looking off.] NO. NO! DON'T HANG IT THERE! LOOK, THERE'S NOT ENOUGH ROOM! YOU GOTTA LET IT BREATHE! Sorry Shelly I got the decorators
I'm opening up my real estate office in a couple
JUST PUT THAT ONE DOWN!
SHELLY: Babe, maybe I should
BABE: I TOLD YOU WHEN I BOUGHT THAT PIECE THAT NUDITY AND FOOD PREPARATION DON'T MIX! I DON'T CARE BUT GET IT OUT OF THE LUNCHROOM!
SHELLY: Really I can
BABE: I tell you Shelly I'm so happy I sold Dupree Distributing to you. That inherited albatross around my neck. It sucked. I love this person I'm becoming. Big money, big margins and big fees. It's all big. And I'm in charge! Me!
SHELLY: That's great Babe, really.
BABE: [Not hearing her.] I thought maybe you and Beatrice could make that company work, but frankly honey I knew you'd fail-- distribution's a sinking ship.
SHELLY: But at least I'm at the helm.
[A crash.]
BABE: YOU"RE PAYIN" FOR THAT! YEA YOU! THE BABOON!
SHELLY: Maybe this isn't a good time.
BABE: As you can see Shelly I need that money
SHELLY: This is a very simple request
BABE: Why am I the cutback? Trim some fat Shelly and pay me for the sale of the business. That's a simple request.
SHELLY: It's an issue of time
BABE: Stop failing! Shelly, you're a saleswoman-- you don't know how to run a business. You belong in sales. PowerBooks and meetings with bean counters, that's not you. In your day you'd shake your tush and bat your eyes and you could sell the Brooklyn Bridge. Things have fallen apart a little since then, I know, but the spark is still there
you know, many homebuyers in the real estate industry seem to trust someone
older. Older people feel better dealing with someone their own age. And they'll buy too.
SHELLY: What are you saying?
BABE: I need to fill a void in my sales staff.
SHELLY: Are you offering me a job?
BABE: What do you say?
SHELLY: I have a job.
BABE: P-lease. Erect the tombstone honeyDistribution is dead. Do something that you're good at and with real estate sales you don't have to travel, just stay here in the city with your family
sorry
I totally forgot about Dan and the kids, but hey, here's a perfect opportunity! Get away from it all! Your business is failing. Your family dies on impact in the everglades
sell out, liquidate, move to Seattle and sell real estate! Hell, everybody else is!
SHELLY: I gotta go Babe.
BABE: How ‘bout it? Huh? And don't you worry your pretty head about what you owe on Dupree Distribution. I'll just garnish your wages!
SHELLY: You're going to get your check two weeks late. If you don't like it sue me.
BABE: Oh, don't worry Shelly honeyI will.
[SHELLY hangs up. Light out on BABE. After a beat we hear the sounds of a Yma Sumac rumba, "Malambo#1." SHELLY goes to the hotel refrigerator and produces an airline bottle of vodka to the beat. SHELLY opens the bottle and drinks it down. She turns suddenly to her purse, grabs it and begins to look through it. At this moment, DAD, DICK and SMITTY enter in a chorus line dance tossing to each other a prescription bottle. They are covered in swamp mud and weeds. SHELLY sees them and laughs. The salesmen play keep away with the prescription bottle and then begin to feed her the pills one by one and wash them down with Vodka. It's a suicide party! Then
a phone ring. SHELLY picks up the phone.]
SHELLY: Shelly Underwood.
[Light up on JOHN talking on the phone. Music continues.]
JOHN: Shelly? John.
SHELLY: Hello again John.