a tragicomedy in one act

by: Walter Wykes

Copyright © 2007 by Walter Wykes

CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that The Spotted Man is subject to a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright convention and the Universal Copyright Convention, and of all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including professional and amateur stage performing, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound taping, all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, such as information storage and retrieval systems and photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

Inquiries concerning all rights should be addressed to the author at



NOTE:  The Nurse, Dr. Flim & Dr. Flam should all be played by the same actress.

[An examining room—very sterile. Enter EUGENE, a harmless-looking man covered with spots. A NURSE follows behind him.]

NURSE: Have a seat.

[EUGENE sits on a rolling stool. The NURSE stops suddenly and glares at him. Silence. EUGENE begins to fidget.]

EUGENE: I ... I’m sorry, is something—

NURSE: Not there!


NURSE: Not there!

EUGENE: Not ... not here?


EUGENE: Where?

NURSE: There!

[She points to the examining table.]

EUGENE: Oh! Right! Sorry!

NURSE: This is the DOCTOR’S stool!

EUGENE: I’m sorry. I ... I didn’t realize.

[EUGENE moves to the examining table. The NURSE produces a sterilized rag and a spray bottle. She sanitizes the stool thoroughly.]

NURSE: As if you’d never been inside a doctor’s office! As if you didn’t know how things work!

[The NURSE continues to glare as she scrubs the stool furiously.]

EUGENE: You’re right. I … I should have known better than to sit on his—


EUGENE: —her stool. I apologize. I ... I don’t know what came over me.

NURSE: [Finishing.] There.

EUGENE: Listen ... I ... ahh ... I hesitate to ask this, but—

NURSE: What?

EUGENE: Well ... I ... I know this may not be precisely the right moment to ... I mean, I know you’re very busy, and this may sound a bit childish, but ... well, I was wondering if it might be possible for my wife to wait in here with me. In the examining room.

NURSE: Your wife?

EUGENE: That’s right.

NURSE: In here?

EUGENE: I know! It’s ridiculous! A grown man! It’s just that ... well ... I’m a little nervous, and she ... well ... she tends to have a calming effect on me. She’s like a human sedative! [Pause—the NURSE glares at him.] Anyway, she’s in the lobby. If you could just send her in, I’d ... I’d really appreciate it. [Pause—the NURSE glares at him.] Thank you. [Pause—the NURSE glares at him.] She’s wearing a green dress with flowers and a little hat that—

NURSE: You’ll have to ask the doctor.


NURSE: The doctor! The doctor! You’ll have to ask the doctor!

EUGENE: You ... you can’t just send her in?

NURSE: No, I’m afraid not. I can give you a little morphine if you like?

EUGENE: Morphine?

NURSE: That’s right.

EUGENE: You can give me morphine, but you can’t fetch my wife from the lobby?

NURSE: We have our rules. [She produces a thermometer.] I’m going to take your temperature now.

[EUGENE sticks his tongue out. The NURSE glares at him. EUGENE begins to fidget.]


NURSE: I’m going to take your temperature.

EUGENE: Right ... [Again, EUGENE sticks his tongue out. The NURSE throws her hands in the air.] What? I don’t understand.

NURSE: Your pants! Your pants! Drop your pants!

EUGENE: My pants? Why should I—

NURSE: I’m going to take your TEMPERATURE!

EUGENE: My ... OH!!! You know what ... I ... I’d really prefer the other end if you don’t mind.

NURSE: Fine. But it’s not nearly as precise! [She inserts the thermometer into his mouth and picks up his chart.] Now. What’s the problem?

EUGENE: [Astonished.] What’s the problem?

NURSE: That’s right. What’s the problem? Why are you here? For what reason have you come to us? You did come for a reason—didn’t you?

EUGENE: Look at me!

[She looks at him without much interest.]

NURSE: I’m a medical assistant—not a trained physician. It would be best if you just told me what was wrong.

EUGENE: I’ve got spots!

NURSE: Spots?

EUGENE: Yes! Spots!

NURSE: [Writing in his chart.] And these “spots” ... where are they located?

EUGENE: [Astonished.] Where are they located?

NURSE: That’s right.

EUGENE: They’re everywhere!

NURSE: Everywhere?

EUGENE: Everywhere! My entire body is covered with spots!

[The NURSE makes a few more notes on EUGENE’s chart. The thermometer beeps. She checks it.]

NURSE: [Suspicious.] Hmmm ...


NURSE: [Evasive.] Oh ... nothing.

EUGENE: Nothing? What do you mean nothing? What was the “Hmmm …” for?

NURSE: The “Hmmm?”

EUGENE: That’s right! The “Hmmm!” You said “Hmmm!” Don’t try to deny it!

NURSE: I’m not denying anything.

EUGENE: What was it for?

NURSE: The “Hmmm?”

EUGENE: Yes! “The Hmmm!”

NURSE: Well ... you have to admit it’s a bit suspicious.

EUGENE: What’s suspicious?

NURSE: You claim to be sick—and yet you have no temperature.

EUGENE: Do I have to have a temperature?

NURSE: Well ... no, you don’t have to.

EUGENE: Aren’t there plenty of sick people out there with no temperature at all?

NURSE: That’s true, but—

EUGENE: But what?

NURSE: Well, it’s just that, if you were to show a bit of a temperature, it would make things a lot easier on us. A good fever is always a sure sign that something’s wrong. You don’t want to make my job any more difficult than it has to be—do you?

EUGENE: No, no, of course not.

NURSE: I didn’t think so. Now, why don’t we give it another shot? Maybe if we try the other end this time...

EUGENE: What?! No!

NURSE: Why not? What are you trying to hide?

EUGENE: What am I trying to HIDE?! What am I … I’m not trying to HIDE anything! Look at me! [EUGENE tears off his shirt.] Look! My entire body is covered with spots! Spots of every conceivable shape and size! Big spots! Small spots! Short spots! Tall spots! I have a spot the shape of Italy on my back! And another one ... I ... I know it sounds crazy, but ... I’d swear it’s the virgin Mary!

NURSE: Where?

EUGENE: On my ... ahh ... on my ...

NURSE: Your what?

EUGENE: I’m not comfortable talking about this with you! I’d like to see the doctor!

NURSE: Are you sure you’re not just trying to score some morphine?

EUGENE: No! No, I’m not trying to score some morphine! I didn’t even mention morphine! I don’t want morphine! The morphine was your idea! I’m a very sick man! There is something horribly, horribly wrong with me, and I’ve come to you for help! Can’t you just help me?! Isn’t that why you’re here?! To help people who are sick?!

[The NURSE glares at EUGENE for a moment—then makes some notes in his chart.]

EUGENE: What ... ahh ... what are you writing?

NURSE: [A vengeful tone in her voice.] Nothing.

[She continues to write.]

EUGENE: That’s an awful long “nothing.” [The NURSE scribbles violently in EUGENE’s chart.] You know, I ... I can’t help but feel we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot somehow. I’d like to apologize if I’ve offended you in any way or ... or made your job more difficult. That was certainly not my intent. It’s just that I ... I’m very concerned about these spots! I’m not normally like this. Normally, I’m very relaxed. Very laid back. Really! Water off the back—all that! You can ask my wife, she’ll tell you. But these spots ... they ... they’ve gotten under my skin! It’s almost ... I know this may sound a little crazy ... but it’s almost like they’re alive! Like they’ve got a mind of their own! They come and go as they please, pop up in the most inconvenient places, torment me for a while, make little pictures, signs, sometimes they almost seem to spell out words! And then they vanish without a trace! As if they were never there at all! For weeks, my wife didn’t believe me! She thought I’d gone insane! Every time I tried to show her, they’d disappear! But as soon as she turned her back, they’d rear their ugly little heads! Twice as many as before! It’s like they’re toying with me! Little microscopic invaders playing games with my mind!

NURSE: Put this on. The doctor will be with you shortly.

[She hands him a hospital gown.]

EUGENE: Thank you. [He begins to undress.] Listen, I ... I don’t want you to think I expect special treatment just because of the severity of my condition, but if you could ask the doctor about my wife—

NURSE: What are you doing?!

EUGENE: I ... I’m changing. You said to put this—

NURSE: Wait until I leave the room!

EUGENE: Oh! Right! Sorry! I’m sorry! [The NURSE exits, hanging EUGENE’s chart on the door.] You’ve been very helpful! Thank you! Thank you very much!

[EUGENE closes the door. He continues to undress, hiding behind the examining table in case someone should enter unexpectedly. After a moment, he emerges in his hospital gown. DR. FLIM enters. She looks exactly like the NURSE, although her uniform is entirely different.]

DR. FLIM: Hello, I’m Dr. Flim.

EUGENE: Hello— [Turning to see her.] Wait a minute ... you’re not the doctor!

DR. FLIM: What do you mean? Of course I’m the doctor.

EUGENE: But ... when you were here before—

DR. FLIM: When I was here before? But I’ve only just stepped into the room.

EUGENE: You took my temperature!

DR. FLIM: No ...

EUGENE: Yes! You wanted to try the other end!

DR. FLIM: Oh! [She laughs.] No, that was the nurse—Margo.

EUGENE: Margo?

DR. FLIM: That’s right.

EUGENE: Are you twins?

DR. FLIM: Twins? Not at all.

EUGENE: But you look just like her!

DR. FLIM: Oh, don’t be ridiculous. We look nothing alike. She’s much more attractive. Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? [She reads EUGENE’s chart.] Hmmm ... [She nods, suppresses a laugh.] Well ... all right. I suppose I should have a look then, shouldn’t I? [EUGENE offers her his arm. DR. FLIM seems confused.] What’s this?

EUGENE: What do you mean?

DR. FLIM: What do you mean what do I mean?

EUGENE: You said you wanted to have a look.

DR. FLIM: Right.

EUGENE: Here it is.

DR. FLIM: This is your arm.

EUGENE: I know.

DR. FLIM: What does your arm have to do with ... oh! I see! Actually, the idea that hand size is corollary—it’s a myth, propagated, I should think, by men with large hands. Perhaps I should have a look at the actual member.


DR. FLIM: The member. You know.

EUGENE: I don’t understand.

DR. FLIM: It says here that you have a small member.

EUGENE: A small member?

DR. FLIM: That’s right. That you’re suffering from feelings of inadequacy caused by the size of your “freakishly small member.” “Almost microscopic,” it says. I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.

EUGENE: [Horrified.] No! I mean, yes! Yes! It is an exaggeration! I mean, it’s not an exaggeration because I never said that at all! It’s not true! Any of it!



DR. FLIM: You don’t have a small member?

EUGENE: Not small! I mean, maybe not large, but ... at least average! I have a very average member! I mean, it’s certainly not a problem!

DR. FLIM: Hmmm ... I wonder why she would have written that?

EUGENE: I have no idea! I mean, all right, I’ll be honest—I did get the impression she didn’t like me very much.

DR. FLIM: Well, I’m sure she wouldn’t allow that to interfere with her professional evaluation. Perhaps she misunderstood.

EUGENE: I don’t see how that’s possible.

DR. FLIM: So there’s no problem with your—

EUGENE: No! None whatsoever!

DR. FLIM: Would you like me to take a look—just in case?

EUGENE: I don’t think that’s necessary.

DR. FLIM: Just a quick peek? For good measure?

EUGENE: Really—I’m fine.

DR. FLIM: All right. What’s the problem then?

EUGENE: Spots. I’ve got spots.

DR. FLIM: On your—

EUGENE: Everywhere! And they itch! They’re very itchy! At night I have to wear a muzzle!

[Again, EUGENE offers his arm. DR. FLIM studies it carefully.]

DR. FLIM: Do you have a temperature?

EUGENE: No. No temperature.

DR. FLIM: Hmmm ...

EUGENE: What? Is it bad? [DR. FLIM continues to study EUGENE.] Am I going to die? Oh god! I’m going to die—right?! I read in the paper about a flesh-eating virus that devoured a man in a matter of hours, and I knew, somewhere inside, I knew that if something like that really existed, I was bound to catch it! This is just my luck!

DR. FLIM: I’ll be honest with you—I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s a bit unusual. It could be stress-related. Or some sort of terrorist plague.

EUGENE: Terrorist plague?!

DR. FLIM: Probably stress.

EUGENE: You said terrorist plague!

DR. FLIM: I was only joking. I’m sure it’s nothing a little rest and relaxation won’t cure.

EUGENE: So it is stress then?

DR. FLIM: That would be my guess. We’ll run a few tests just to be sure. I’ll have Margo take some blood. I’m also going to have my partner take a look, if you don’t mind. But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.

EUGENE: But ... the thing is … my main source of stress is these spots! Before the spots, I had very little stress! No stress at all, really! Normally, I’m very relaxed! Water off the back—all that! You can ask my wife if you don’t—oh! I almost forgot! Did Margo ask about my wife?

DR. FLIM: No. Does she have spots too?

EUGENE: No, I asked if it might be possible for her to wait in here with me. In the examining room.

DR. FLIM: She didn’t mention that.

EUGENE: It’s just that I’m a little nervous, you know, and she tends to have a—

DR. FLIM: I should think that would be fine.

EUGENE: She’s in the lobby. She’s wearing a green dress with flowers and a little hat that—

DR. FLIM: I’ll have Margo fetch her for you.

EUGENE: Thank you.

[DR. FLIM nods and exits. EUGENE sits for a moment, looks at his watch, then picks up a magazine and begins to read. After a moment, the NURSE enters, glaring. She slams the door behind her and locks it. In her hands, she holds a needle and syringe.]

NURSE: What is WRONG with you?! Are you trying to get me FIRED?!

EUGENE: What? I ... no!

NURSE: How could you question my authority like that?!

EUGENE: I ... I didn’t mean to—

NURSE: Do you think this job means nothing to me?! Do you think I won’t fight to protect it?!

[She approaches him with the needle and syringe.]

EUGENE: [Rising.] Okay, maybe I should—

NURSE: SIT! [EUGENE sits.] Give me your arm!

EUGENE: I don’t know if that’s such a—


[Reluctantly, he complies. She ties a rubber tourniquet around his arm and roughly inserts the needle.]

EUGENE: Ow! Owww! Careful with that thing!

[The syringe begins to fill with blood.]

NURSE: You realize with one little twist of this needle I could tear your vein in half?

EUGENE: Please don’t.

NURSE: Or I could reverse the flow—send an air bubble straight to your brain—no one would ever suspect it was anything but a terrible accident.


NURSE: Shut up!

EUGENE: All right!

NURSE: Listen to me when I’m talking!

EUGENE: I’m listening!

NURSE: I don’t think you are!

EUGENE: I am! I swear! See!

[He listens.]

NURSE: I don’t like to be reprimanded! That bitch questioned my integrity! Do you know what that’s like?! To have your integrity questioned?!

EUGENE: Yes! Yes! It happens to me all the time!

NURSE: Don’t make fun of me!

EUGENE: I’m not!

NURSE: Why couldn’t you just play along?!

EUGENE: She ... she wanted to see my member!

NURSE: She threatened me with my JOB! My LIVELIHOOD!

EUGENE: I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking! It won’t happen again!

[The NURSE studies EUGENE for a moment.]

NURSE: All right ... I’m going to let you live.

EUGENE: Thank you! Thank you!

NURSE: But you owe me.

[She removes the needle from EUGENE’S arm.]

EUGENE: How much blood did you take? I feel faint.

NURSE: Don’t be such a baby. [She applies a bandage.] There—all better.

EUGENE: It still hurts.

NURSE: Do you want me to kiss it?


NURSE: Well, don’t say I didn’t offer.

[She gathers the blood samples and turns to go.]

EUGENE: Oh, by the way, the doctor said my wife could come back.

NURSE: [Sharply.] I know what the doctor said.

EUGENE: All right. I’m just–

[The NURSE exits. Almost immediately, DR. FLAM enters. She looks exactly like DR. FLIM except that she wears a brightly-colored clown wig.]

DR. FLAM: Hello. I’m Dr. Flam.

EUGENE: You mean Flim.

DR. FLAM: No, Flam.

EUGENE: But before you—

DR. FLAM: Before?

EUGENE: Yes. When you were here before—

DR. FLAM: Oh, that was Dr. Flim—my partner. She asked me to take a look at you.

EUGENE: Oh. You look exactly alike. I mean, except for the wig.

DR. FLAM: What wig?

EUGENE: That one. The one you’re wearing.

DR. FLAM: This is my natural hair. Do you like it?

EUGENE: It’s … it’s lovely.

DR. FLAM: Well, let’s take a look. [EUGENE offers his arm.] Hmmm … just as I suspected.

EUGENE: What is it?

DR. FLAM: I have no idea. But I suspected as much, so it’s really no surprise. What you need is a specialist.

EUGENE: A specialist?

DR. FLAM: That’s right. Someone who’s devoted his life to studying this sort of thing. And I know just the man. He’s a genius. A real giant among men. His knowledge of spots is encyclopedic—almost inhuman. Godlike, if you will. They say he’s even performed a few miracles. Miracle cures, you know. He will, no doubt, diagnose your illness in the blink of an eye.

EUGENE: When can I see him?

DR. FLAM: Never. He’s booked for years in advance, decades—well into the next millennium. [EUGENE is speechless. She laughs.] I’m kidding! He’s one floor up. I’ll see if he can swing down and take a look.

EUGENE: Thank you! Thank you! That would be great! [She nods and moves to the door.] Oh! There’s one more thing. The nurse was supposed to send my wife in.

DR. FLAM: Margo? She’s completely incompetent. A real nutcase. We only keep her on because Dr. Flim has a thing for her.

EUGENE: Do you think you could send her back?

DR. FLAM: Margo?

EUGENE: No—my wife.

DR. FLAM: Of course. Where is she?

EUGENE: The lobby.

DR. FLAM: [With a grimace.] Oooh … that’s too bad.

EUGENE: What do you mean? [Pause.] What? What is it?!


DR. FLAM: Well … I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but … the lobby is under quarantine. There’s been some kind of outbreak.

EUGENE: An outbreak?! What … what kind of outbreak?!

DR. FLAM: We don’t have all the details yet.

EUGENE: Is it serious?!

DR. FLAM: Something about a plague.

EUGENE: A plague?! In the lobby?! My god!

DR. FLAM: I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. [EUGENE moves to the door. She blocks his path.] Where do you think you’re going?

EUGENE: I have to see my wife.

DR. FLAM: Sir, you need to sit down and let the professionals handle this.


DR. FLAM: I’m sure your wife is fine. So far it’s just the old and very young who are actually dying. And a few sickly teenagers. Your wife isn’t a teenager, is she?


DR. FLAM: Then you have nothing to worry about. Just have a seat while I place that call to the Specialist, and I’ll have someone check on your wife. All right?

EUGENE: [Hesitates.] Okay. Thank you.

[DR. FLAM exits. EUGENE sits in dazed silence. A moment later, DR. FLIM returns wearing a hospital mask.]

DR. FLIM: It doesn’t exist!


DR. FLIM: Your disease! I’ve been through all the medical books! Every database! It just doesn’t exist! There’s no such thing!

EUGENE: But … surely in one of your textbooks ... somewhere ... I mean, there … there must be some reference! I can’t be the first person ever to have this problem!

DR. FLIM: Every plague starts with one person.

EUGENE: This is just my luck!

DR. FLIM: One little mutated cell. One bad seed.

EUGENE: Wait—you’re … you’re saying the plague in the lobby, the quarantine, it’s … it’s all my fault?!

DR. FLIM: It’s not just the lobby. The whole building’s under quarantine.

EUGENE: The whole building? Good lord! And … people are actually dying?!

DR. FLIM: They’re dropping like flies.

EUGENE: What about the Specialist? Has he come yet?

DR. FLIM: What specialist?

EUGENE: The Specialist. One floor up. The one Dr. Flam—

DR. FLIM: Him? Ha! He’s a quack! Some guy she used to bone in college!

EUGENE: But … she said he was a genius.

DR. FLIM: Pfff!

EUGENE: She said he could perform miracles.

DR. FLIM: He’s a drooling idiot!

EUGENE: So, he … he’s not …

DR. FLIM: He’s not even certified.

EUGENE: Then … there’s no hope.

DR. FLIM: Not really.

EUGENE: We’re all going to die.

DR. FLIM: That’s the most likely outcome. Yes.

EUGENE: And it’s all my fault.

DR. FLIM: No, no, not at all. [Pause.] Okay, yes it is. I can’t lie.

EUGENE: I want to see my wife.

DR. FLIM: I told Margo to send her back. Hasn’t she come?


DR. FLIM: That woman! If she wasn’t so damned attractive, I’d fire her on the spot!

[DR. FLIM exits. A moment later, the NURSE bursts into the room.]

NURSE: Is it true?! Have they sent for the Specialist?!

EUGENE: Well … yes.

NURSE: Finally! After all these years!

EUGENE: But … Dr. Flim said he’s a quack.

NURSE: She’s jealous!

EUGENE: He isn’t even certified.

NURSE: They’re ALL jealous! He’s so far beyond them, they can’t comprehend his tiniest thought! And you! You’re responsible for bringing him here! I could kiss you! I could do more than that, if you’d like!

[She tries to kiss him.]

EUGENE: What … what are you doing?!

NURSE: Don’t you find me attractive? Don’t you want me—sexually, I mean?

EUGENE: Well, I ...

NURSE: What about these? Do you like these?

[She shows EUGENE her breasts.]

EUGENE: Well, I ... they’re ... they’re very ... ahh ... nice, but—

NURSE: Nice?


NURSE: Just nice?

EUGENE: I … I really don’t—

NURSE: You want to touch them?


NURSE: Go ahead. No one’s watching. The world’s coming to an end. You might as well.

EUGENE: Shouldn’t you be working? I mean, I’m sure they need your help—with the building under quarantine and all.

NURSE: Oh, it’s not just the building. The whole city’s under quarantine.

EUGENE: The whole city?!

NURSE: That’s right. And it won’t stop there. The country. The world. Society’s falling apart—civilization as we know it. It’s unraveling. The thread has been pulled. Everyone’s dying. Survivors are running for the hills. Hiding in caves. There’s no food. People are eating their own children.


NURSE: We’re going the way of the dinosaurs. It was only a matter of time.

EUGENE: I want to see my wife! Right now! The doctor told you to send her back!

NURSE: How can you think of your wife at a time like this?

EUGENE: Who else should I think of?

NURSE: [Covering her breasts.] Oh, fine.

EUGENE: She’s wearing a—

NURSE: I know! I know! A green dress with flowers!

EUGENE: And a hat that—

[The NURSE exits in a huff and returns a moment later, wearing a hat and a green dress with flowers.]

NURSE: Hello, darling.

[She kisses him.]

EUGENE: What … what are you doing?! Why are you wearing my wife’s clothes?!

NURSE: Sweetheart—what are you talking about? Don’t you know your own wife?

EUGENE: You’re not my wife!

NURSE: Of course I am. Those spots must have gone to your brain.

EUGENE: [Shaking her violently.] No! No! I’m not crazy! Where is she?! What have you done with her?!

NURSE: Sweetheart, I—

EUGENE: What have you done with my wife?!

NURSE: Why don’t we just go home and—



NURSE: All right, fine. Have it your way. [She removes the hat.] She’s dead.

EUGENE: What? You’re … you’re lying!

NURSE: No, she was one of the first to go.

[EUGENE releases her. He backs away.]

EUGENE: This can’t be happening.

NURSE: She was weak—no will to live.

EUGENE: I want to see the body.

NURSE: Too late. It’s already been burned—to stop the spread of the disease, you know.

EUGENE: Oh God! What have I done! I’ve killed my own wife! I’ve given her my disease!

NURSE: Don’t be such a crybaby! My god! Here you are, at the end of the world, with a drop-dead gorgeous horny nurse practically throwing herself at you—some men would consider this a fantasy come true.

EUGENE: But my wife—

NURSE: Shut up about your wife! Stop living in the past!

EUGENE: How can you—

NURSE: For god’s sake! Take me!


NURSE: Take me! Right here! On this table! Give me your disease!

EUGENE: You ... you want my disease?

NURSE: Yes! I want it! I want to taste death! I want to feel its weight pressing down on me—the weight of a dying man! I want to hear its soft whisper! Its anguished cry! I want to take it inside me like a child! Nurture it! Let it grow! Let it feed on me like a sack of rice! And then, finally, open myself up ... unleash it upon the world ... a great sweaty monster of spotted flesh and stinking bodies!

EUGENE: You’re insane!

[She kisses EUGENE. He struggles, but she clings to him passionately. There is a clawing sound at the door.]

EUGENE: What’s that?

NURSE: Nothing! Kiss me!

[Again, a clawing sound at the door. EUGENE pulls away.]

EUGENE: It might be the Specialist! Maybe there’s still time!

[EUGENE opens the door, and THE SPECIALIST lumbers into the room. He is a sub-human creature, a throwback to the age of the Neanderthal, an idiot-retard who cannot speak but only drools and grunts. He is dressed, however, like a distinguished physician.]

EUGENE: This … this can’t be him!

[The SPECIALIST grunts.]

NURSE: Of course it is! Who else would it be?

[She takes the SPECIALIST by the arm and leads him to the rolling stool. He sits, as if upon a throne, and grunts his approval.]

EUGENE: What’s wrong with him? [To the SPECIALIST.] Have you been in some kind of accident?

NURSE: Don’t talk to him that way! He’s a genius! [She strokes the SPECIALIST’S hair. He grunts with pleasure.] Oh, look—he likes that!

EUGENE: He … he can’t really be the great doctor—can he? The pinnacle of man’s learning? Is it possible this is all we amount to? [To the SPECIALIST.] Can you understand me? Are you insane? Or ... no! Perhaps ... perhaps I’m insane! That’s it! You’re speaking normally, but I can’t understand because I’ve finally lost my mind! Or ... or perhaps we’re both insane! Both trying desperately to communicate but—

[The SPECIALIST sniffs under the NURSE’s skirt.]

NURSE: Oh! You’re so naughty!

[The SPECIALIST and the NURSE perform the carnal act.]

EUGENE: What are you doing? Don’t do that!

NURSE: Yes! Oh, yes! I can feel your enlightenment pouring into me! Your knowledge!

EUGENE: Stop it! Stop! For god’s sake, she’s … she’s wearing my wife’s dress! [EUGENE picks up the doctor’s stool and brandishes it like a weapon.] I won’t allow this! I forbid you to continue! Do you hear me?! Stop! I ... I said stop!

[The SPECIALIST grunts in ecstasy. EUGENE begins to pummel him with the chair.]

NURSE: What are you doing?! Don’t hurt him! Leave him alone! [There is a struggle, but soon the SPECIALIST lies dead. EUGENE throws the chair to the ground.] What have you done?! He was our only hope!

[She lunges at EUGENE and begins to pound him with her fists.]

EUGENE: Don’t! Please! I ... I don’t want to hurt you!

NURSE: Help! Murder!

EUGENE: Shhh! Be quiet!

NURSE: Murder!

[EUGENE grabs her by the throat. He holds the NURSE until she, too, lies motionless. EUGENE hovers over her for a moment, breathing heavily—then backs away, horrified.]

EUGENE: Oh God! [There is a knock at the door. EUGENE freezes, tries to regain his composure.] Who … who is it? Who’s there?

VOICE: [Offstage.] The Specialist.



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