David Mamet Channels Aristophanes
An Old Woman picks berries from a small bush. Enter The Traveler.
The Traveler: Many miles have I traveled, uh, until now, now I am not sure of where I am! Pray, tell me, woman old, uh, where the hell am I?
Old Woman: You are where you stand, sir.
The Traveler: But, uh, where is it I stand?
Old Woman: You stand where you are, I do believe.
The Traveler: No, I mean, what place is this?
Old Woman: This is the place where we stand.
The Traveler: Christ! You’re not listenin’ to me! Look, look, just tell me, tell me this—does this place have a name?
Old Woman: Indeed it does, sir. Chicago!
The Traveler: Well, that fuckin’ took long enough.
The Old Woman flings berries at him and sings:
Impatient tongue ye have, and plethora of gall;
But still we welcome kindly every living soul
Who comes and seeks to roost among our buildings tall.
Now I must gather up my things. You shut your hole.
She takes her basket and leaves. Enter a Politician, jogging.
The Traveler: What a strange creature this is!
The Politician: Tut, tut! Clear out the way, for I must pass!
The Traveler: Then pass; I do not here, uh, hinder thee.
The Politician: To squeeze? To shuffle sideways past? To work around your most imprudent bulk? Fie on you, sir! For I must have the clearest path, all to myself, to carry out my public duties!
The Traveler: What manner of, of man are you, then?
The Politician: I am a politician, graced with renown of friend, respect of foe, and perks and priv’leges a-plenty. Bulls, bears and cubs, e’en blackhawks, fire, and bandits; all clear the way before my stockings white.
The Traveler: And how come you by this work?
The Politician: How’s come? How’s come? Look, buddy, I got work to do. Political work, see? Important stuff to do. Now move your ass!
The Traveler: One question, er, one question more. What business brings you out this way?
The Politician: To put in an appearance, grasp a happy hand, and speak upon the good that I have done, though it be never manifest. The great Machine requires such, and will not sleep, nor let me rest.
The Traveler: Ah, I see! You run all over the fuckin’ place, an’ don’t get shit done!
The Politician: Ahhh, fuck you! Ya motherfucker!
The Politician picks up a baseball bat and crushes The Traveler’s skull.
The Politician: Cocksucker.