Five Television Plays (David Mamet) by David Mamet

alone.
    (C LORIS, with A LBERT in tow, runs down the stairs and after the P OTAWATAMIES. A chase throughout the museum. A reprise of “The Song of the Thirties” [ as it would be sung by the Soviet Army Men's Chorus ] is in the background. The chase takes them through a large part of the museum and culminates in a remote part of the first floor, where C LORIS and A LBERT encounter P IERRE and his P OTAWATAMIES about to do harm to the M INERS. )
    C LORIS: Okay, Pierre, give it up.
    P IERRE: This is just dialectic, Cloris, this is the Law of life.
    C LORIS: I'll give you the Law of life, Pierre, pick on someone your own age, for Chrissakes.
    P IERRE: It's not for nothing that we're younger than they are . . .
    C LORIS: No?
    P IERRE: There's a plan in this.
    C LORIS: This is strongarm and robbery.
    P IERRE: That's a very limited view, Cloris.
    C LORIS: Well, you just let ‘em alone.
    P IERRE: Or you are gonna what?
    ( The shouts of D IETER are heard. )
    C LORIS ( shouting ): Dieter! We're over here. Now you're gonna get yours, creep.
    (D IETER appears with the F ARMERS behind him. )
    C LORIS ( to J OHN ) : Alright alright alright. And about time, too. (Thank God.)
    J OHN: What, uh, seems to be the trouble here?
    P IERRE: Hi, John.
    J OHN: Pierre.
    C LORIS: They want to whack out the miners.
    J OHN ( to P IERRE ) : This true?
    P IERRE: Yes. ( Pause. )
    J OHN: You don't, uh, really want to do that, do you, Pierre?
    P IERRE: Yes.
    J OHN: But, why?
    P IERRE: Money.
    ( A pause. P IERRE and the P OTAWATAMIES advance on the M INERS brandishing blunt instruments. )
    T IMMY ( to M INERS ) : Sing, boys!
    (M INERS break into “Solidarity Forever,” which continues behind ensuing dialogue. )
    C LORIS: You hold it right for Chrissake there, Pierre. John. John . . .
    (J OHN starts surreptitiously edging away from scene of conflict. )
    C LORIS: John, where are you going?
    J OHN: Going? I'm not going anywhere.
    C LORIS: Then why are you getting farther away? ( Pause. ) John? John where are you going? ( Pause. ) You can't do this, John. You come back here. You come back here. (C LORIS interposes self between P OTAWATAMIES and M INERS. To F ARMERS: ) Douggie, Fran, Bruce, where do you think you're going with him?
    J OHN: We have a social function to fulfill, Cloris, which does not encompass getting hit on the head. This is a struggle for property between two naturally opposed groups, and the intervention of our faction would be the sheerest gaucherie. ( Pause. ) White-collar liberalism. ( Pause. ) These people are much closer to the roots of the problem than we, Cloris. There are variables in this conflict whose existence we are not even aware of. ( Pause. ) The urge to acquire property is a primordial and (we may assume) in the final analysis, a constructive urge. ( Pause. Summoning F ARMERS: ) Friends . . .
    (R UDY separates self from F ARMERS and stands with C LORIS. )
    R UDY: That is the lowes’ bunch of verbige I ever did hear. You come back here, John.
    J OHN: I have a responsibility to these people ( indicating F ARMERS. A P OTAWATAMIE advances on a M INER. )
    P OTAWATAMIE: Gimme your wallet, Gramps.
    A LBERT ( to P OTAWATAMIE ) : Okay, okay, this has gone about far enough. Here's what we're going to do . . .
    (A LBERT gets whacked across the head with a quarterstaff. He falters. )
    C LORIS: John, I swear to God . . . you come back here.
    J OHN ( reverting to a childish tone ): If they're so smart, how come they're old?
    A LBERT ( to P OTAWATAMIE ) : Why don't you put down those things and go home?
    P OTAWATAMIE: We live here.
    C LORIS ( to J OHN ) : If you're so smart, how come you're living in a museum on Twinkies?
    J OHN ( incensed ): What did you say?
    C LORIS: You heard me.
    (J OHN screams, and runs at C LORIS. The P OTAWATAMIES, sensing their bloodlust condoned, turn on the M INERS in force. A LBERT interjects self into the fray. )
    A LBERT: You leave these folks alone, you goons. ( He gets another whack in the head. )
    ( A