THE FIX book and lyrics by John Dempsey music by Dana P. Rowe OFFSTAGE VOICE (in the dark) Ladies and gentlemen, a big welcome for the next President of The United States...Senator Reed Chandler!!! (Canned applause. As the lights rise, a number of TELEVISION REPORTERS appear on a TV screen, as if an unseen person is flipping through the channels.) TV REPORTER #1 .at this evening's rally, the senator seemed in high spirits... TV REPORTER #2 «with seemingly little cause to worry, Senator Chandler gave a stirring speech, rallying his supporters to.. TV REPORTER #3 wand our latest polls show Senator Reed Chandler with a commanding lead, a veritable shoo-in for the presidency of the United States. TV REPORTER #1 enator Reed Chandler... TV REPORTER #2 enator Reed Chandler. TV REPORTER #3 «Senator Reed Chandler. (A tremolo sounds. In the rising lights, we see DONNA astride a MAN in a chair, his back to us.) DONNA Oh..yes..yes..Reed! Reed! Reed, honey..! (realizing that he is no longer moving) Reed.honey? Mr. Senator? (She lifts his chin, daintily. His head falls back. She screams. Blackout. From another corner of the stage, PETER, a smiling security agent in sunglasses and a greasy ponytail, marches in with a hospital gurney. Atop the gurney is a man covered in a sheet. REED rises from the gurney and looks around incredulously.)"LET THE GAMES BEGIN" REED JESUS CHRIST, WHAT JUST HAPPENED AND WHY? DID I ACTUALLY DIE JUST AN INCH FROM THE PRIZE? WHAT A GYP! ONE BAD ROLL OF THE DICE AND THEY PACK YOU IN ICE AND PUT COINS IN YOUR EYES. (A group of REPORTERS dressed in sunglasses and trenchcoats, march in upstage, writing notes and taking pictures.) HOLY CRAP! HOW IT ALL COMES UNGLUED. I GOT SCREWED GETTING SCREWED. NOW THE PROSPECTS LOOK DIM USED TO BE THAT THE MAN WITH THE CROWN WOULD DECIDE WHO GOES DOWN; YEAH, BUT WHO JUDGES HIM? REPORTERS THUMBS UP! THUMBS DOWN! AND TO VARY IT A LITTLE THERE'S THAT FINGER IN THE MIDDLE LET THE GAMES BEGIN... REPORTERS THESE ARE THE GAMES. THE TOOLS AND THE TRICKS. THE ULTIMATE FIX AND THE BACKROOM DEAL. ROLL OUT THE WHEEL, GIVE THAT SUCKER A SPIN. LET THE GAMES BEGIN. SAYS THE EMP'ROR! REED AND REPORTERS LEY THE GAMES BEGIN! (GRAHAME enters. He is an older man, curiously vain, with an extravagantly shellacked comb-over His legs are in braces, and he scuttles about with the help of sleek, black, silver-tipped crutches. He sees REED's body on the gurney.) GRAHAME Oh, £-£-fuck!Hey! (as GRAHAME freezes) THERE'S MY BROTHER! THE BRAINS, AND THE EYES. WHO MAPPED OUT MY RISE, BUT NOT THIS DECLINE. WATCH HIM BURN AS HE LOSES CONTROL, AS MY DEATH TAKES ITS TOLL ON WHAT'S LEFT OF HIS SPINE.. (unfreezing, to PETER) Has anyone told his wife? (VIOLET enters, cigarette in her hand. She looks like a cross between Nancy Reagan and Cruella Deville. She glares at the corpse.) VIOLET You Son-Of-A-Bitch!!! (dryly) I'll take that as a yes. (VIOLET lunges for the corpse, but is stopped by PETER, who bars the way. The scene freezes.) REED Yeah -- THAT'S MY WIFE. EYE ON THE REINS, AND ICE IN HER VEINS, A PRO AMONG PROS. CHECK HER OUT; THE GAL IN COMMAND, CIGARETTE IN HER HAND, BREATHING FIRE OUT HER NOSE! REPORTERS THUMBS UP! THUMBS DOWN! REED TWO FAM'LY MEMBERS ‘ROUND THE COFFIN AND ANOTHER IN THE OFFIN'. LET THE GAMES BEGIN.. REPORTERS THESE ARE THE GAMES. THE TOOLS AND THE TRICKS.THE ULTIMATE FIX, AND THE BACKROOM DEAL. ROLL OUT THE WHEEL, GIVE THAT SUCKER A SPIN. LET THE GAMES BEGIN. REED SAYS THE EMP'ROR! REPORTERS LET THE GAMES BEGIN! Go -- GET THE NEXT ONE IN LINE, BUILD HIM A SHRINE, AND THEN GIVE HIM THE HOOK. REED Look, THEY ALL THOUGHT NERO HAD A SPARKLE TILL HE BURNED 'EM UP LIKE CHARCOAL. LET THE GAMES... add REPORTERS LET THE LET THE BEGIN! THESE ARE THE GAMES. THE TOOLS AND THE TRICKS. THE ULTIMATE FIX AND THE BACKROOM DEAL. ROLL OUT THE WHEEL, GIVE THAT SUCKER A SPIN. LET THE GAMES BEGIN. REED PROCLAIMS CAESAR! REPORTERS LET THE GAMES BEGIN! REED THE KING SAYS! REPORTERS LET THE GAMES BEGIN! REED (climbing atop the gurney for his big exit) SINGS THE PREFECT! SINGS THE PASHA! SINGS THE PREZ! AND REPORTERS LET THE GAMES BEGIN...! (A REPORTER [who will later play the MAID] wheels out REED and the gurney as the coffin is flown in. All the sunglasses come off. Everyone pulls out handkerchiefs on cue and dabs their eyes mechanically.)A WEALTH OF TEARS ACROSS THE LAND. THE PROMISE OF TOMORROW HAS BEEN SILENCED BY DEATH'S HAND. ALL HOPE'S INTERRED BENEATH THE SOD. THE MAN WHO WOULD BE PRESIDENT HAS FOUND HIS WAY TO GOD. (Flashbulbs pop. A 21 gun salute is fired off by the GUARD. The COMPANY shudders subtly with each gunshot.) CAN THIS BE THE END? IS THIS ALL IT BRINGS? SURELY THERE'S ANOTHER CHANDLER WAITING IN THE WINGS. (The COMPANY exits downstage, VIOLET the last to leave.) VIOLET There is. (Lights up on the upstage area. CAL sits on his bed, guitar in hand, his back to us. He is an unruly looking boy, hair in his eyes, two earrings in his left ear, dressed in torn jeans. He bangs out several chords on the guitar, his hair flopping up and down. A handy TV blares out the news.) TV REPORTER #1 (on the screen) On Eyewitness News at Noon, live coverage of the funeral for Senator Reed Chandler..forty-eight hours ago, a heavy favorite to be the leader of the free world. But today, Senator Reed Chandler lies in a coffi (There is a knock at the door. CAL puts down his guitar, and clicks off the TV with the remote. A maid, DANIELLE opens the door a crack and peeks in.) DANIELLE Mr. Chandler? Your mother sent me up with some food from the reception downstairs. Are you hungry? (CAL points and DANIELLE puts the tray down.) Well.all right(An awkward pause and then she starts to go.) caAL No, wait. You don't have to go. It's just. WELL, I'M FEELIN' PRETTY LOUSY. I JUST CAME UP HERE TO CRY, AND... Now, I'm embarrassed. DANIELLE (sitting beside him on the bed, nervous and excited) No, no! That's nothing to be embarrassed about. CAL I'VE BEEN TRY'NG TO KEEP MY DISTANCE. I GUESS I'M KINDA SHY, ALWAYS STAYING ON MY OWN.. DANIELLE (starting to get up) I should go. No, wait. I DON'T WANT TO BE ALONE. It's just... (turning away, his hand to his face) Ah, damn. 1.1 promised myself I was going to stop crying DANIELLE No. Shhhh! (She moves to put her arm around him. He turns and buries his face in her chest, sobbing. He brings his face up and they begin to kiss passionately, but awkwardly. DANIELLE breaks away.) I.I should get back to the reception. You gonna be Ok? CAL (wiping away a non-existent tear) I might get worse later. DANIELLE (exiting) I'll check in on you. CAL (deadpan, with an amused smirk) Alright...| | (Three huge air guitar chords, then CAL reaches under his mattress for a little wooden box. With its contents, he begins to roll a joint.) "ONE, TWO, THREE" CAL THERE'S A RECEPTION GOIN' ON DOWNSTAIRS, SIT BACK AND WATCH THE FUN BEGIN. COME ONE, COME ALL TO THE MOURNER'S BALL. IT COSTS YOU SEVEN "I'M SO SORRY'S" TO GET IN. ABOVE THE PARTY GAMES, YOU HEAR THEM SPEAK OF HOW THE FUTURE'S AT THE DOOR. THEY'RE HOT TO WIN, TO GIVE THE BOTTLE SPIN, BUT IT'S JUST ME AND ME ALONE, KNOWS THE SCORE -- AND IT'S "ONE, TWO, THREE!" THAT'S HOW I FEEL ABOUT THE FUTURE! THAT'S HOW I DEAL WITH IT ALL! LIVIN' FOR THE MOMENT'S REWARDS, KNOWIN' DESTINY LIES IN THESE TWO HANDS PLAYING THESE THREE CHORDS! YOU HEAR WHISPERS IN THE CASTLE HALL; "HOW COULD THE KING HAVE PASSED AWAY?" THE COURT PLAYS DUMB, AND THE QUEEN KEEPS MUM. BUT LISTEN CLOSE AND YOU CAN HEAR THE JESTER PLAY --! ADD OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) “ONE, TWO, THREE!" cAL THAT'S HOW I FEEL ABOUT THE FUTURE! OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) “ONE, TWO, THREE!" CAL THAT'S HOW I DEAL WITH IT ALL! OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) “ONE, TWO, THREE!" CAL LIVIN' FOR THE MOMENT'S REWARDS, KNOWIN' DESTINY LIES CAL AND OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) IN THESE TWO HANDS PLAYING THESE THREE CHORDS! PLAYING THESE THREE..(CAL lights the lighter. The stage lights dim.) CAL ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW, THREE FOR THE KID WHO'S GOT NOWHERE TO GO. FILLING HIS DAYS WITH DESPERATE PLEASURES WELL, DESPERATE TIMES CALL FOR DESPERATE MEASURES. DESPERATE TIMES, CAL. DESPERATE TIMES. (He lights the joint, then launches into another chorus. He mimes playing the guitar, as the sounds of an imaginary crowd cheering are heard.) OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) "ONE, TWO, THREE!" CAL THAT'S HOW I FEEL ABOUT THE FUTURE! OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) "ONE, TWO, THREE!" CAL THAT'S HOW I DEAL WITH IT ALL! OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) “ONE, TWC THREE cAL LIVIN' FOR THE MOMENT'S REWARDS, PLAYIN’ “ONE, TWO, THREE!" OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) THAT'S HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THE FUTURE! cAL “ONE, TWO, THREE!" OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) THAT'S HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL! cAL NE, TWO THREE!" OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) LIVIN' FOR THE MOMENT'S REWARDS, CAL AND OFFSTAGE VOICES (WOMEN) KNOWIN' DESTINY LIES IN THESE TWO HANDS |AYING THESE THREE CHORDS! YES, THESE TWO HANDS PLAYING THESE... (slam) THREE. (slam) CHORDS...!(CAL disappears from sight as GRAHAME and VIOLET walk on. GRAHAME sits and VIOLET pours them both rinks.) EMBRACE TOMORROW" VIOLET WORK YOUR FINGERS DOWN TO THE GRISTLE. GRIT YOUR TEETH. SELL THE LIES. GARDEN CLUB, CHURCH EV'RY SUNDAY THEN COMES MONDAY, ONE WHORE TOO MANY AND -- BOOM! SURPRISE! JESUS, HOW THEY BURN, GRAHAME, THOSE FLASHBULBS IN YOUR EYES. ALL THOSE POINTLESS YEARS; THE SPIRIT SAPPED, THE SOUL DIMINISHED. LET IT GO, ACCEPT YOUR LOSSES. IF NOTHING ELSE AT LEAST IT'S FINISHED. WRONG! NO BACKING DOWN! NO COPPING OUT! I'M HOLDING SWAY -- I'VE FOUGHT THE WHOLE OF MY LIFE FOR THE BRASS RING. AND NO ONE CAN TAKE THAT AWAY! IT'S MINE, GRAHAME! IT'S MINE. ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. IF I CAN'T BE THE WIFE OF THE PRESIDENT, YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS, I'LL BE HIS MOTHER. GRAHAME Oh my God... VIOLET WE'RE MOVING AHEAD WITH CAL. WE'RE MOVING AHEAD..WITH CAL. GRAHAME Cal? Your son -- in politics?! VIOLET Why so surprised, Grahame?GRAHAME If you honestly think you can get that boy elected to anything higher than student council, you're as insane as he is! VIOLET Grahame... GRAHAME SANITY'S EXPECTED IN THE WHITE HOUSE. A SENSE OF RIGHT AND WRONG AND FAM'LY LOVE. SANITY'S EXPECTED IN THE WHITE HOUSE; OR A LEAST A FAIR FACSIMILE THEREOF. VIOLET There is nothing wrong with Cal. GRAHAME Questionable blood, Violet. Questionable paternity..! VIOLET HE'S OF DECENT LINES, NOBLE LINES, HONORABLE LINES... GRAHAME QUESTIONABLE PATERNITY! (Light change. BOBBY "CRACKER" BARREL appears through an upstage scrim "window", strapped into an electric chair.) BOBBY "CRACKER" BARREL LET IT BE SAID THAT I LOVED ME A WOMAN. A FIRST CLASS, HIGH TONE, WASHINGTON B... (There is the sound of sparks and an explosion. Light change. BOBBY disappears. VIOLET turns her head swiftly toward GRAHAME, who is laughing himself sick.) VIOLET We all have out little secrets, you misshapen old fag. (GRAHAME abruptly stops laughing) So do your part before I start prying into your closets. GRAHAME (miffed, turning away from her) Flattery's not going to work this time, Violet. VIOLET (music in) The city council race heats up in six months. You're the only one who can do this, Grahame. No, no really I mean it. 10GRAHAME Look, I hate to be the one to break it to you, Ms. Peron, but your moment in the spotlight is done. Get your ass off the balcony. VIOLET It ain't over till the fat lady sings. GRAHAME Good, take lessons. It's important to have a hobby. VIOLET All I'm asking is that you get him started up the ladder, map it out like you did for his father. GRAHAME And why on earth would I want to d-d-do that? VIOLET I'll make you a deal. You give us, say, two years of your time, and then I will gladly send you on your way to some cozy little seat on the Circuit Court. GRAHAME A judgeship? VIOLET t's what you've always wanted. GRAHAME What makes you think I couldn't waltz out of here right now and get one myself? VIOLET The same thing that makes me think you couldn't waltz out of here, period. Let's face it, Grahame -- graceful exits aren't exactly your forte. GRAHAME Oh my God, this is your idea of sweet talk, isn't it? VIOLET Think about it, Grahame. You're vision in those eyes. Your words in that mouth. Your brains... (music out) «in that body. (intrigued) Six months? VIOLET God created the world in six days. 11GRAHAME God didn't have to deal with your son. VIOLET You'd call the shots, Grahame. No questions asked. GRAHAME (starting to smile, excited) You may not like what it involves. VIOLET I'm prepared to take that risk! IT'S MINE, GRAHAME! IT'S MINE. ONE WAY OR ANOTHER -- IF I CAN'T BE THE WIFE OF THE PRESIDENT YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS I'LL BE HIS MOTHER. GRAHAME AND VIOLET LET'S NOT TALK OF FEUDS, HIST'RIES OF REMORSE AND SORROW. FACE THE PRESS. COMBINE OUR FORCES. DAMN THE PAST EMBRACE TOMORROW. (Flashbulbs as they pose for pictures.) FACE THE PRESS/PRESS THE FLESH. COMBINE OUR FORCES. DAMN THE PAST EMBRACE TOMORROW. (CAL enters.) VIOLET Cal, darling! I sent the girl up earlier with some food. CAL What's your point? VIOLET The girl. Did you get any? cAL Uh..just a quick bite. VIOLET Oh, well you should have gotten more than that. cAL Yeah, maybe later. 12VIOLET Oh, Grahame -- look at this face! (holding CAL's face in her hands) Is this not the face of a president? GRAHAME Yes, I especially like the earrings. Very James Buchanan. VIOLET (embracing him a bit too closely) Mommy's little man. cAL James who? GRAHAME Cal, your mother and I are worried about you. VIOLET All this hiding out. cAL But you t GRAHAME s just not natural. VIOLET Luckily, we have an idea. Something to help lift your spirits. GRAHAME A tribute as it were to your late father. CAL What's that? GRAHAME Follow in his footsteps. CAL Footsteps? GRAHAME Yes, well (to VIOLET) .all except for that last one, of course. (GRAHAME and VIOLET share a little laugh.) GRAHAME VIOLET No, no, wouldn't want a repeat Good one, Grahame! Heavens of that, now would we no! Wouldn't that be a 13(Sensing that CAL is confused, they turn to him. GRAHAME's smile drops instantly and is replaced with weariness.) 7 GRAHAME He died, Cal. (CAL nods vacantly.) VIOLET But the rest? The politics..? cAL (after a beat, getting it) Oh. Oh! Aw, mom, I don't wanna be the president! GRAHAME (to VIOLET, dryly) Boy, the way he picks these things up. It's uncanny, isn't it? CAL Mom. VIOLET Darling, you wouldn't have to do it right away. These things take time. GRAHAME Days..weeks even. VIOLET But first we'd have to get you into the public eye. CAL How? What, like a speech or something? VIOLET A speech? Yes, a speech is good. But we were thinking more along the lines of..the army. CAL The army?! Oh... VIOLET You'd get a gun. You like to play with guns, don't you? Remember your G.I. Joes? (to GRAHAME) He used to blow their little heads clean off. (as GRAHAME moans) I warned his father to keep the gun cabinet locked, but you know Reed. He was always off somewhere making his speeches, making his dedications. GRAHAME Making his secretarial staf... 14VIOLET (indicating one of her fingers) Oh look, Grahame, a paper cut! Why don't you just pour the salt right in! GRAHAME You make it so easy. VIOLET Grahame...! GRAHAME Violet! cAL (who has been trying to butt in for some time) Hey..!| What about what I want? VIOLET Oh, darling, this is what you want. Isn’t it, Grahame. GRAHAME Absolutely. VIOLET Now just. (turns CAL around and pushes him toward the next so =make us proud, honey! e) (GRAHAME and VIOLET exit. A platoon of SOLDIERS marches in. CAL struggles to keep up with them.) "ARMY CHANT" SERGEANT I DON'T KNOW, BUT IT MUST BE; CAL & SOLDIERS I DON'T KNOW, BUT IT MUST BE; SERGEANT THE ARMY'S MADE A MAN OF ME. CAL & SOLDIERS THE ARMY'S MADE A MAN OF ME. SERGEANT OURS IS BUT TO DO OR DIE. - CAL & SOLDIERS OURS IS BUT TO DO OR DIE. SERGEANT SO KISS YOUR HAIRY ASS GOOD-BYE. CAL & SOLDIERS KISS YOUR HAIRY ASS GOOD-BYE. (Gunfire sounds. The SOLDIERS pull out their rifles and drop to the ground. The stage is ablaze with battle. CAL huddles in a corner.)CAL Mom, I know you said this was supposed to lift my spirits. But it's not! Army life is hell! Last week we had an honest to God air raid. Yesterday, we were hit by sniper fire. Are you sure this is what I want...? (VIOLET and GRAHAME appear on opposite sides of the stage. VIOLET is reading the letter.) VIOLET I never should have let you talk me into this. GRAHAME Give it time. VIOLET ahame...! GRAHAME Training, Violet. The boy needs to learn combat. Today the middle east, tomorrow the pork lobby! (The SOLDIERS begin to mime digging a minefield and planting mines.) SERGEANT I DON'T KNOW, BUT IT SEEMS SO; CAL & SOLDIERS I DON'T KNOW, BUT IT SEEMS SO; SERGEANT ARMY LIFE'S THE WAY TO GO. CAL & SOLDIERS ARMY LIFE'S THE WAY TO GO. SERGEANT MEN ARE MEASURED BY THEIR TOYS. CAL & SOLDIERS MEN ARE MEASURED BY THEIR TOYS. SERGEANT SO KEEP 'EM COCKED AND READY, BOYS. CAL & SOLDIERS KEEP 'EM COCKED AND READY, BOYS. (Once again, the sound of gunfire and bombs. CAL ducks again.) CAL Mom, Not much new. The officers keep ordering me to the back, where they say I can't get hurt. Tonight they have me guarding a minefield. I never see much action, but on the plus side, I can clean a latrine in under five minutes. When can I come home? (VIOLET and GRAHAME appear on opposite sides of the stage again.)VIOLET For God's sake, Grahame! There's a Chandler out there in the middle of some desert scrubbing toilets! GRAHAME f£ he fails at the politics thing, he'll have something It's a skill. to fall back on. VIOLET Oh, Christ, Grahame! GRAHAME You asked me to help you, do my part. That's exactly what I'm doing. SERGEANT I DON'T KNOW BUT I'VE IN TOLD. CAL & SOLDIERS I DON'T KNOW BUT I'VE BEEN TOLD. SERGEANT ARMY LIFE IS GOOD AS GOLD. CAL & SOLDIERS Is GOOD AS GOLD. SERGEANT PRACTICING DIPLOMACY. CAL & SOLDIERS PRACTICING DIPLOMACY. SERGEANT AND SHOOTING THOSE WHO DISAGREE. CAL & SOLDIERS SHOOTING THOSE WHO DISAGREE. SERGEANT At ease! (The gunfire ceases. The sounds of night can be heard. The SOLDIERS all collapse for the night, smoking joints or sleeping. One SOLDIER offers CAL a Sugar cube.) CAL A sugar cube? SOLDIER Go on. It's good stuff. (CAL puts it in his mouth and begins to chew. The music turns hallucinatory. After a beat, REED enters.) REED (spying CAL) SOLDIER! 17CAL Sir! REED SNAP TO BOY, THERE'S AN OFFICER PRESENT. CAL Sir, yes, sir! TELL ME, WHERE DO WE STAND? No one knows, sir! Location classified! REED DESERT, I'D SAY, FROM THE LOOKS OF THE SAND. CAL Yes, sir! Desert! Lots of sand! REED COULD BE KUWAIT. OR ARIZONA. AT EASE..SON. CAL Dad? Dad! REED Cal, my God, look at you -- all grown up in your uniform. A full fledged.private? Jesus, Cal, you're a private? cAL Grahame's idea. Oh well, that figures. But hey, those are your dues. CAL It sucks. REED O£ course it sucks. Dues suck. Fact of nature. CAL I don't belong here. This isn't who I am. REED “Who you are?” Who gives a good goddamn? You're here to learn combat!Combat? REED Yeah, combat! How to crush the competition! cAL Competition? REED Yeah, competition! How to decimate your opponent! cAL Opponent ? REED Yeah, oppon..what are you, deaf? Cal -- you're being groomed for office. cAL I don't think I want to be in office. REED "Don't want to be in office?" Wait a minute! What's that sound? Oh, never mind; it's just me spinning in my grave! CAL Sorry. REED (slapping the back of CAL’s head) "Don't want to be in office?!" That's because you've never been. There's nothing like it in the world, Cal. The flashbulbs, the marching bands. It's the ultimate fix, my boy! CAL Really? "CONTROL" Ya gotta remember, Cal -- IT'S GONNA BE YOUR FACE SHINING FROM THE MAGAZINES. YOUR SMILE STRIKING UP THE BAND. YOUR WORDS SPLASHED ACROSS THE BUMPERSTICKERS. YOUR VOICE HEARD THROUGHOUT THE LAND. THE PEOPLE THINK THEY HIRE YOU, CAN KICK YOU TO THE CURB. THEIR VOICES MAY BE MANY BUT YOU GET THE REVERB-ERB-ERB-ERB-ERB... 19IT'S GONNA BE YOUR THOUGHTS IN THE PERIODICALS. YOUR NERVE STIRRIN' UP THE COALS. YOUR EYES STARING FROM THE BULLY-PULPITS. YOUR SONG CLIMBING UP THE POLLS. THE MASSES THINK THEY OWN YOU, CAN THROW YOU ON THE ROPES. SURE, THEY CAN CHANGE THE CHANNELS BUT YOU CAN BUMP THE SOAPS. Dad..! Land mines! REED Don't you worry, son! I've danced around worse than this before. just gotta remember a few basic rules... (Explosions sound as he sidesteps them.) PUBLIC OFFICE IS A MINEFIELD. (bam) Right! (bam) Left! ONE WRONG STEP, YOU'RE BLOWN AWAY. (bam) Hey! LEAD YOUR OPPONENT T'WARD THE FRAY; THAT'S HOW IT'S DONE. DO ALL YOU KNOW TO TRICK YOUR FOE, TO KEEP HIM UNAWARE. (bam) Shhhhhh! HE'LL WALK STRAIGHT INTO A SNARE, "SAYONARA," "C'EST LA GUERRE!" AND KID YOU'VE WON! (They sidestep the mines together.) CAL AND REED AND THEN -- IT'S GONNA BE YOUR FACE. YOUR SMILE... YOUR WORDS. YOUR STYLE.. YOUR EYES PLAYIN’ UP THE PUBLIC. YOUR SWEAT, PAYIN' UP THE TOLL. YOUR PRIZE, YA GOTTA REMEMBER YOU'RE LOST WITHOUT, THE FAME, THE CLOUT; IT'S ALL ABOUT CONTROL... CONTROL! 20 You(A bomb drops from overhead. The soldiers sleeping upstage all wake and begin shooting. As hell breaks loose, REED and CAL casually walk downstage arms around each other.) REED Well, I imagine this is good-bye. But I'll be around, You can always count on your ol' dad, you know? To look out for you. To protect you. (REED starts to exit, whistling. Another whistling sound is heard, growing louder and louder.) cAL Oh, shit! (An explosion takes over the stage. CAL is hurled to the ground. REED disappears in a flash of light. “Blackout. Lights up on VIOLET, holding a framed Purple Heart Medal.) VIOLET It's perfect, darling! I'll put it in the first floor powder room, right by the one your father got. : (Lights up on CAL and GRAHAME as well. CAL turns around, his arm in a sling.) cAL The powder room? VIOLET Well, darling, it's a great honor, but it's still purple. (GRAHAME Oh, and while we're accessorizing, there is one more thing that might help. A family. How "bout it, my boy. Feel like getting hitched? cAL = Not really. GRAHAME Too bad. We have a wife for you. cAL Mother. E VIOLET Your Uncle Grahame's right on this one. We have to portray you as a family man. GRAHAME This is Deborah...! 21(PETER enters, pushing on an enormous, be-ribboned box. It opens and out of the packing material comes DEBORAH PULLMAN, hair pulled back, pert and perfect. Stepford material. Flashbulbs pop.) VIOLET How lovely! You did well, Grahame. GRAHAME Thank you. GRAHAME, VIOLET AND PETER NOW, ISN'T SHE THE VERY THING WE'RE NEEDING? PATRICIAN, WITH A MANNER SMOOTH AS GLASS. MISS PULLMAN IS A PARADIGM OF BREEDING. IN SHORT, SHE'S THE EPITOME OF CLASS. GRAHAME Pretty, isn't she? cAL I guess. Do I have a say in this? GRAHAME No. VIOLET Her name is Deborah Pullman. She comes from a very old family. Very wealthy family. cAL I can't marry her. I don't even know her GRAHAME Oh, let's worry about the big picture for now. Leave the minutia for another time. REPORTERS (entering) IN AGES TWENTY-ONE TO EIGHTY-SEVEN, HER PROFILES AND HER SCORES ARE GOOD AS GOL! DOES EQUALLY AS WELL WITH MEN AND WOMEN. NON-THREATENING YET LOVELY TO BEHOLD CAL Does she talk? GRAHAME Yes, but she never says anything. That's the beauty of it. CAL I think I prefer redheads. 22GRAHAME Blondes test better with the public. REPORTER #1 Any plans for children, Miss Pullman? VIOLET (answering for DEBORAH) She longs to have children. REPORTER #2 Any career plans for yourself? VIOLET (once again) Her family is her career. REPORTER #3 The world wants to know, Miss Pullman -- Briefs or boxers? (The REPORTERS all laugh politely.) ‘VIOLET (good naturedly) Oh, now, I hardly thin DEBORAH (pushing forward herself) Boxers, thank you for asking. ALL REPORTERS Miss Pullman..!?!? VIOLET (fed up) Oh, no! She's answered too many questions! Can't you see the poor girl's exhausted?! (The ENSEMBLE transforms into a wedding party. CAL and DEBORAH are placed before a CARDINAL.) CARDINAL I now pronounce you. MAN AND WIFE! (The WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHER takes the family wedding picture. Flash. Blackout. Lights up, on CAL, GRAHAME and VIOLET.) GRAHAME It's all about combinations, C-C-Cal. The right suit, the proper words. 23VIOLET (snatching CAL's earrings) A decent haircut GRAHAME And the first thing we have to do is get you to look the part.. (GRAHAME, VIOLET and PETER circle CAL, as STAFF ng out clothes and accessories.) "AMERICA'S SON" GRAHAME AND VIOLET PROFILE, CUNNING. WARDROBE, STUNNING. TOP OF HIS GAME WISE ADHERENTS. SHARP APPEARANCE. AND OH, THAT FAM'LY NAME! HE'S RIDING THE SPOTLIGHT, SEE HIM. HE'S READY AND POISED TO RUN. HE'S RIDING THE SPOTLIGHT, SEE HIM. WHERE HE BELONGS... add GRAHAME AND VIOLET WHERE HE'S THE ONE...! (GRAHAME and VIOLET choose a shirt and begin to dress CAL in it.) CHORUS AMERICA'S SON, RISING. AMERICA'S SON, SIZING UP THE STAGE. RISING TO A BRAND-NEW AGE. RISING, AMERICA'S SON! (A chart showing the hierarchy of the American Government is wheeled on.) cAL (buttoning up his shirt) Hey, look! Pictures! GRAHAME It's a strategy, Cal. Local Government, State Government, National Government. You can't just jump in head first into the Senate. We have to get your feet wet in every conceivable arena. And we're starting with City Council. CAL And what does the City Council do? 24GRAHAME e wouldn't be much attention paid to Surprisingly little. Normally, t! this race. VIOLET But we have something leaning in our favor. cAL My last name. VIOLET Right. GRAHAME Which means we have to haul out the big guns. Peter! Get me the "I see the future" speech! PETER But, sir. GRAHAME t argue with me, Peter. Just do Don PETER (exiting) I'm on it, Mr. Chandl (REED enters with a rack of three suits. CAL alone sees him. REED winks at CAL, then exits. MARIA steps forward.) Mr. Chandler? GRAHAME (dismissing the suits one by one, nonchalantly) Too earthy. Too drab Burn that. MARIA But Mr. Chandler... GRAHAME Sweetheart, it's all too British. I need something exciting. VIOLET Oh, but nothing flashy. GRAHAME Good: point. He has to be a man of the people. Now, wh: American? looks Italian silk? 25