<<MSTing: "Windmills of the Gods" >>

--- Part 3 of 4 ---
 
[OPEN ON: SOL Bridge. Crow and Tom are alone.]
 
CROW: Hey Tom!  Let's have a mental spat.
TOM: Duuuuuuuuuh, OK.
 
[TOM growls and shakes in concentration, transmitting his 
 thoughts to Crow. We hear Observer-like sound effects.]
 
CROW: What? WHAT?! Why you...
 
[CROW growls and shakes and transmits his thoughts back to Tom.]
 
TOM: Hey, I can't help that, I'm big boned! Why you...
 
[Mike, clutching his head in agony, comes in to break it up.]
 
MIKE: Whoa, guys! C'mon! What'd I tell you about psionics in 
   enclosed spaces? Your negative feedback is giving me migraines!
TOM: Oh, you want a piece of this, buster? Plenty to go around! Grr...
 
[TOM transmits thoughts to Mike.]
 
MIKE (as he receives thoughts): What? Oh. You feel that strongly? 
   Well, I don't know. Gosh. OK, I suppose... really? I never...
 
[MIKE shakes his head, tries not to cry, and turns away from Tom. 
 Planet sign flashes. Mike is too emotionally hurt to notice.]
 
CROW: Uh, Mike, the planet's calling.  Mike?  Augh, I'll get it.
TOM: Wussy.
 
[CUT TO: Planet surface. Observer is holding a mallet, Pearl has a 
 staked "For Sale" sign ready to drive into the ground. The bottom of 
the two-mile high sign can be seen in the background.
 
PEARL: All right, Nel-sonambulist, we're ready to go here. Bobo is
   painting my picture up there on the two-mile high sign. (calls up) 
   How ya doin' Bobo?
BOBO (off-screen, two miles above): OK, just gettin' my safety harness 
   on! Say, does this job come with medical insurance?
PEARL: Oh, well I'd be happy to talk with you about medical insurance,
   Bobo, but to be honest, and this is the truth, I can't hear a word 
   you're saying, OK? (turns to Observer and job at hand) Now, as we 
   officially  christen this two-fisted money grab, I think it only 
   appropriate that Observer lead us in prayer.
OBSERVER: Do you? Oh. Well. Um...Dear lord... I know that... normally,
   a non-corporal atheist requesting your blessing for an underhanded 
   real estate swindle... (breaks down) aw hell, just end it now! Send 
   the lightning, the earthquakes, a plague of locusts up my butt, 
   just get it over with, damn you!
 
[PEARL gets sign into position.]
 
PEARL: You should be so lucky. All righty then, Brain Guy, if you would.
 
[Brain Guy mutters himself into position, then raises his hammer and 
 drives the sign into the ground. Immediately the ground shakes like it 
 was San Andreas' fault, and we hear a deafening angry roar from 
 somewhere. Pearl and Observer hit the ground.]
 
PEARL: What the hell?
OBSERVER: I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks, I do I do I do 
   I do I DO believe in spooks!
PEARL: You do not! Wait, where's Bobo?
 
[We hear Bobo plummeting to his death.]
 
BOBO: AAAAAAAAAAAUGH!
PEARL: Bobo! NO!
BOBO (suddenly not falling): Hee hee! Fooled ya didn't I Lawgiver!
PEARL (annoyed): Bobo, you're not plummeting to your wretched little
   death?
BOBO: You wish!  You silly, I've got my safety harness on!  Jiggled 
   the paint a bit though, made Lawgiver's mustache a little too
   pronounced, if you know what I mean.
PEARL (exasperated, turns to Observer): Brain Pan, you got some
   'splainin to do! You told me this planet was uninhabited.
OBSERVER: Well it is! There are no life forms on the planet!
PEARL: Well something sounded pretty darned alive to me!
OBSERVER: Perhaps the situation calls for a reconstructive experiment.
   Let's see, you were holding a stake sign like that.
PEARL (takes a second stake sign, places it on the ground): Yeah, and
   then you drove it forcefully into the ground with a mallet.
OBSERVER: Right, like this. (hits sign with mallet)
 
[The ground once again shakes with the violence of a Sam Peckinpah film,
 and a roar resounds deafeningly amid the knobs and valleys of the planet.
 We hear Bobo plummeting to his death again.]
 
BOBO: YIIIEEEEEEEEE!!!
OBSERVER: Bobo!
BOBO: PSYCHE! Hee hee! You sillies, I keep telling you, I've got my
   safety harness on! Well I ain't gettin' any work done here, I may as 
   well jump safely down to the ground now. Hup!
 
[We hear Bobo falling throughout the remaining exchange. Pearl grabs
 Observer by the collar.]
 
PEARL (threateningly): You! You landed us on one of them living planet
   deals, didn't you?
 
OBSERVER: Well, in retrospect it would appear that the reason there are 
   no living organisms on the planet is because the living organism that 
   is the planet, ate them.
PEARL (patiently): And by inflicting injury on the planet with these 
   stakes?
OBSERVER: Well, my guess would be the planet now considers us a harmful
   infection, is generating antibodies to eliminate the infection, and 
   they should be here to kill us in about twenty minutes, making us 
   dead... oh, in a half hour or so. Enough time for fajita wrap?
PEAR (pulling him up to her face): I can think of someone who'll be dead 
   a lot sooner. (drops him to the ground) C'mon, you Caped Cru-sadist, 
   let's head for the van and blow this biological freak-dump while we
   can.
OBSERVER: I'm sure, I'm sure you're right, yes. 

[Pearl exits. Just before exiting, Observer stops to listen to the 
 falling of Bobo, and comes back to look up at the falling ape.
 He considers this for a bit.]

OBSERVER: I don't suppose Bobo recalled to secure the other end of the 
   safety harness to anything?
PEARL (off screen): You'll know soon enough.
 
[OBSERVER exits, shaking his head. We still hear Bobo falling and
 screaming. Camera pans up a bit to focus on the horizon, then the ape
 falls through the shot and hits the ground with a calamitous thud. We
 hear a huge roar from the planet, the biggest earthquake yet. Pan back
 down, Bobo is at the bottom of a one-foot imprint of himself, a safety
 harness on his back.  Barely conscious, he climbs half-way out.]
 
BOBO (in agony): Oooh... thank goodness for my safety harness. 
   Otherwise, I could have been hurt.
 
[BOBO collapses back in the hole.]
 
[CUT TO: SOL. Mike and Tom are crying and hugging.]
 
MIKE (weepy): Why didn't you tell me you felt this way?
TOM (sobs): Oh, Mike!  I thought you'd think I was being mean and petty.
MIKE: Oh, Tom! I do!
 
[Buzzers sound.]
 
ALL: We've got fiction sign!
 
| 6 |... ( 5 )... [ 4 ]... > 3 <... = 2 =... / * \
 
[CUT TO: Theater.  Mike and the bots take their seats.]
 
CROW: That was good guys, I think we made a real breakthrough that
   session.
 
> 4
>
> "I disagree, Professor Ashley," Barry Dylan,
 
TOM: The tragic result of Bob Dylan and Barry Bostwick's marriage.
 
> -the brightest and youngest of the students in Mary Ashley's political
> science seminar, looked around defiantly.
 
MIKE (whining): I'm a prince! I'm a Grimwold warrior!
 
>"Alexandru Ionescu is worse than Ceausescu ever was."
> "Can you give us some facts to back up that statement?" Mary Ashley
> asked.
 
CROW: Well, Ionescu has 400 calories, and 26 grams of fat!
 
> There were twelve graduate students in the seminar being held in a
> classroom at Kansas State University's Dykstra Hall. The students were
> seated in a semicircle facing Mary. The waiting lists to get into her
> classes were longer than any other professor's at the university.
 
MIKE: Wha- but it's not the size of the list, it's how you use it!
TOM: Jeez, since when does Freud do poli-sci?
 
> She was a superb teacher, with an easy sense of humor and a warmth that
> made being around her a pleasure. She had an oval face that changed
> from interesting to beautiful, depending on her mood.
 
CROW: Oh, a mood face. They were real popular in the seventies, you know.
 
> She had the high cheekbones of a model and almond-shaped hazel eyes. Her
> hair was dark and thick. She had a figure that made her female students
> envious, and the males fantasize, yet she was unaware of how beautiful
> she was.
 
MIKE (sighs): Yup, that's likely.
TOM: This role has Cindy Crawford written all over it, and it's making 
   my skin crawl.
 
> Barry was wondering if she was happy with her husband. He reluctantly
> brought his attention back to the problem at hand.
 
CROW: Panties!
 
> "Well, when Ionescu took over Romania, he cracked down on all the
> pro-Groza elements-
 
TOM: Hydrogen, lithium, sodium...
CROW: I think the alkali metals are all pro-Groza.
 
>-and reestablished a hard-line, pro-Soviet position. Even Ceausescu
> wasn't that bad."
> Another student spoke up. "Then why is President Ellison so anxious
> to establish diplomatic relations with him?"
 
MIKE: Because he's two wheels short of a go-kart?
 
> "Because we want to woo him into the Western orbit."
 
TOM (Curly): Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo!
 
> "Remember," Marty said, "Nicolae Ceausescu also had a foot in both
> camps. What year did that start?"
> Barry again.
 
ALL (groaning, fed up): Barry again.
CROW: Finnegan, begin again!
 
> "In 1963, when Romania took sides in the dispute between Russia
> and China to show its independence in international affairs."
> "What about Romania's current relationship with the other Warsaw
> Pact countries, and Russia in particular?" Mary asked.
 
MIKE (as gossip): Well Romania won't talk to Poland since he showed up
   drunk at Czechoslavakia's wedding, but Cambodia's still trying to 
   get into Yugoslavia's pants.
 
> "I'd say it's stronger now."
> Another voice.
 
CROW: Voices! Make'm stop! Please make the voices stop!
 
>"I don't agree. Romania criticized Russia's invasion of Afghanistan, and
> they criticized the Russians' arrangement with the EEC. Also, Professor
> Ashley-"
> The bell sounded.
 
TOM: Whup, another poli-sci professor got their wings.
 
> The time was up.
> Mary said, "Monday we'll talk about the basic factors that affect
> the Soviet attitude toward Eastern Europe, and we'll discuss the
> possible consequences of President Ellison's plan to penetrate the
> Eastern bloc.
 
MIKE: She is the most phallic professor ever.
 
> Have a good weekend."
> Mary watched the students rise and head for the door.
 
MIKE: The most ever.
 
> "You too Professor."
> Mary Ashley loved the give-and-take of the seminar. History and
> geography came alive in the heated discussion among the bright young
> graduate students. Foreign names became real, and historical events
> took on flesh and blood. This was her fifth year on the faculty of
> Kansas State University, and teaching still excited her.
 
TOM: Oh, "excited her"? Sheldon, you are one twisted pretzel piece.
 
> She taught five political science classes a year in addition to the
> graduate seminars,
 
MIKE: Oh, so she just can't get enough? She's gotta have it, is that
   what you're saying?
CROW (slyly): She could teach all night and beg for-
MIKE: Crow!
CROW: What?
 
>-and each of them dealt with the Soviet Union and its satellite
> countries. At times she felt like a fraud. I've never been to any of
> the countries I teach about, she thought. I've never been outside the
> United States.
 
MIKE (Minniwegian): Oh, I've been to paradise, but I've just never been
   to me, ya know?
 
> Mary Ashley had been born in Junction City, as had her parents. The
> only member of the family who had known Europe was her grandfather, who
> had come form the small Romanian village of Voronet.
 
TOM (sings): Extra value is what you get...
MIKE (to Tom): OK. No! Do you hear me?
 
> Mary had planned a trip abroad when she received her master's
> degree, but that summer she met Edward Ashley, and the European trip
> turned into a three-day honeymoon at Waterville, fifty-five miles from
> Junction City, where Edward was taking care of a critical heart patient.
 
MIKE: Oh, well wasn't that just popely of them?
TOM: Never characterize where you can canonize!
 
> "We really must travel next year," Mary said to Edward shortly after
>they were married. "I'm dying to see Rome and Paris and Romania."
> "So am I. It's a date. Next summer."
 
CROW (Gene Rayburn): Next Summers! What was your response to,
  "BLANK, a-doodle-doo"?
MIKE (laughing): I think you know that was Brett Sommers, Crow.
 
> But the following summer Beth was born, and Edward was caught up in
> his work at the Geary Community Hospital.
 
TOM: Honey, I can see the dumb baby any ol' time. Changing bedpans is
   forever!
 
>Two years later, Tim was born. Mary had gotten her Ph.D. and gone back
> to teaching at Kansas State University, and somehow the year had melted
> away. Except for brief trips to Chicago, Atlanta, and Denver, Mary had
> never been out of the state of Kansas.
 
CROW: Or the state of denial.
 
> One day, she promised herself. One day...
>
> Mary gathered her notes together and glanced out the window. Frost
> had painted the window a winter gray,
 
TOM: Boy, David Frost's career sure bottomed out.
 
> and it was beginning to snow again. She put on her lined leather coat
> and red woolen scarf and headed toward the Vattier Street entrance,
> where she had parked the car.
> The campus was huge, 315 acres dotted with eighty-seven buildings,
> including laboratories, theaters, and chapels,
 
MIKE: And an authentic Native American gambling casino!
 
>-amid a rustic setting of trees and grass. From a distance, the brown
> limestone buildings of the university, with their turrets,
 
CROW: The university has Touret's?
TOM: When I c-c-call your name, c-c-c-come get your dip-p-ploma.
 
>-resembled ancient castles ready to repel enemy hordes.
 
MIKE: Or Caucasian male students with affirmative action lawsuits.
 
> As Mary passed Denison Hall, a stranger with a Nikon camera was
> walking toward her. He aimed the camera at the building and pressed the
> shutter. Mary was in the foreground of the picture. I should have got
> out of his way,she thought. I've spoiled his picture.
 
CROW (squeaky Kathy Ireland voice): Because I'm so unaware of how
beautiful I am, don't you see?
 
> One hour later, the photograph was on its way to Washington, D.C.
 
MIKE: Which was weird since they mailed it to Boise.
 
>
> Every town has its own distinctive rhythm, a life pulse that springs
> from the people and the land. Junction City, in Geary County, is a farm
> community, population 20,381, 130 miles west of Kansas City, priding
> itself on being the geographical center of the continental United States
 
TOM: But "The Computer Wore Tennis Shoes" said that was Lebanon!
ROW: Either Walt Disney or Sidney Sheldon is telling us a great big fib.
 
> It has a newspaper- The Daily Union- a radio station, and a television
> station. The downtown shopping area consists of a series of scattered
> stores and gas stations along Sixth Street and on Washington. There is a
> J.C. Penny's, the First National Bank, a Domino Pizza, Flower Jeweler's,
> and a Woolworth's.
 
MIKE: Sidney Sheldon: King of Product Placement.
 
>There are fast-food chains,
 
CROW: I guess McDonald's and Burger King wouldn't fork over any dough.
 
> a bus station, a menswear shop, and a liquor store- the types of
> establishments that are duplicated in hundreds of small towns across the
> United States. But the residents of Junction City love it for its
> bucolic peace and tranquility.
 
TOM: Hey, that's not funny, bucolic peace killed millions of people 
   in the Middle Ages!
 
>On weekdays, at least. Weekends, Junction City becomes the rest-and-
>recreation center for the soldiers at the nearby Fort Riley.
 
CROW (laughs like Charles Nelson Riley): Hn-hn-hn!
 
> Mary Ashley stopped to shop for dinner at Dillon's Market on her way 
> home and then headed north toward Old Milford Road, a lovely residential 
> area overlooking a lake. Oak and elm trees lined the left side of the 
> road, while on the right side were beautiful houses variously made of 
> stone, brick, or wood.
 
TOM (as Bob Dole): You kids get off of Bob Dole's lawn!
 
> The Ashleys lived in a two-story stone house set in the middle of
> gently rolling hills. It had been bought by Dr. Edward Ashley and his
> bride thirteen years earlier. It consisted of a large living room,
> dining room, library, breakfast room, and kitchen downstairs, and a
> master suite and two additional bedrooms upstairs.
 
MIKE (Mary): Honey, where's the bathroom?
TOM (Edward): Bathroom?
 
> "It's awfully large for just two people," Mary Ashley had protested.
> Edward had taken her into his arms and held her close. "Who said
> it's going to be only for two people?"
 
CROW: The next day, longtime companion Felipe settled into the attic.
 
> When Mary arrived home from the university, Tim and Beth were
> waiting to greet her.
> "Guess what?" Tim said. "We're going to have our pictures in the
> paper!"
> "Help me put away the groceries," Mary said. "What paper?"
 
TOM (as Tim): The Cincinnati Enquirer. They're going to squeeze us in
   between apologies!
 
> "The man didn't say, but he took our pictures and he said we'd hear
> from him."
 
MIKE (as Beth): And he gave us these cool tattoos, and things went all
   swimmy and I became the lizard queen!
 
> Mary stopped and turned to look at her son. "Did the man say why?"
> "No," Tim said, "but he sure had a nifty Nikon."
 
MIKE: Not a word, Crow.
 
> On Sunday, Mary celebrated- although that was not the word that
> sprang to mind- her thirty-fifth birthday. Edward had arranged a
> surprise party for her at the country club.
 
CROW (whispering): OK, everybody keep out of sight, and don't point out
   how beautiful she is!
 
>Their neighbors, Florence and Douglas Schiffer, and four other couples
> were waiting for her. Edward was as delighted as a small child at the
> look of amazement on Mary's face
>
ALL: SURPRISE! (sing to Happy Birthday) Welcome to middle age, when your
   life is half gone! Your best years are behind you, and you soon will 
   be dead!
 
> when she walked into the club and saw the festive table and the happy
> birthday banner. She did not have the heart to tell him that she had
> known about the party for the past two weeks. She adored Edward. And
> why not? Who wouldn't? He was attractive and intelligent and caring.
 
TOM: And as fluffy as cloud in springtime!
 
> His grandfather and father had been doctors, and it had been doctors, 
> and it had never occurred to Edward to be anything else. He was the best
> surgeon in Junction City,
 
MIKE: Sounds like being the best songwriter in Marilyn Manson.
 
>-a good father, and a wonderful husband.
> As Mary blew out the candles on her birthday cake, she looked across
> at Edward and thought: How lucky can a lady be?
 
CROW (as nerdy scientist): Here at Bell Labs, we measure luck in
   microChers, a unit equal to one-millionth the luck Cher needed to 
   win an Academy Award.
 
> Monday morning, Mary awoke with a hangover. There had been a lot of
> champagne toasts the night before, and she was not used to drinking
> alcohol.
 
MIKE (Mary): It has less kick than Sterno.
 
>It took an effort to get out of bed. That champagne done me in.
 
TOM: Wow, this is just like "Porgy and Bess", except it's really quite
   awful.
 
> Never again, she promised herself.
> She eased her way downstairs and gingerly set about preparing
> breakfast for the children, trying to ignore the pounding in her head.
> "Champagne," Mary groaned, "is France's vengeance against us."
 
CROW: For what, unimaginative bon mots?
 
> Beth walked into the room carrying an armful of books. "Who are you
> talking to, Mother?"
> "Myself."
> "That's weird."
> "When you're right, you're right."
 
MIKE: It's nice that Sheldon added these quiet, humdrum moments to break
   up the non-stop inertia of the plot.
 
> Mary put a box of cereal on the table.
 
CROW: Wow, this breakfast already has more action than the whole Ellison
   presidency!
 
>"I bought a new cereal for you. You're going to like it."
> Beth sat down at the kitchen table and studied the label on the
> cereal box.
 
TOM (Beth): Mueslix is Switzerland's vengeance against us.
 
> "I can't eat this. You're trying to kill me."
 
MIKE: Not the box, the cereal inside it, sweetie.
 
> "Don't put any ideas in my head," her mother cautioned. "Would you
> please eat your breakfast?"
> Tim, her ten-year-old, ran into the kitchen. He slid into a chair
> at the table and said, "I'll have bacon and eggs."
> "Whatever happened to good morning?" Mary asked.
 
CROW: Hey, why did all the male characters get full names and the female
   lead doesn't?
 
> "Good morning. I'll have bacon and eggs."
 
MIKE: I'll have chocolate cake for breakfast!
TOM (as Bill Cosby): It has eggs! And milk!
 
> "Please."
> "Aw, c'mon, Mom. I'm going to be late for school."
> "I'm glad you mentioned that. Mrs. Reynolds called me. You're
> failing math. What do you say to that?"
> "It figures."
> "Tim, is that supposed to be a joke?"
 
CROW: No, but ABC bought the rights anyway.
MIKE (announcer): TGIF, after Sabrina, this fall!
 
> "I personally don't think it's funny," Beth sniffed.
> He made a face at his sister. "If you want funny, look in the
> mirror."
 
TOM (sighing): Do you remember in "The Piano" when Holly Hunter watched
   her piano fall from her boat into the ocean and it dragged her down to 
   the bottom with it? That was so much funnier than this.
 
> "That's enough," Mary said. "Behave yourselves."
> Her headache was getting worse.
> Tim asked, "Can I go to the skating rink after school, Mom?"
> "You're already skating on thin ice.
 
MIKE: I think this what the Algonquin round table would have been like if
   "The New Yorker" were staffed by the Sioux Falls Parent Teacher
   Association.
 
> You're to come right home and study. How do you think it looks for a
> college professor to have a son who's failing math?"
 
CROW (Tim): That's right, I forgot my academic performance was all about
   your needs.
 
> "It looks okay. You don't teach math."
> They talk about the terrible twos, Mary thought grimly. What about
> the terrible nines, tens, elevens, and twelves?
 
TOM: Oh yeah, well what about the terrible first chapter? The terrible
   second chapter? That festering cold sore of a prologue?
 
> Beth said, "Did Tim tell you he got a D in spelling?"
 
MIKE (Beth): He stuck it between the two l's.
 
> He glared at his sister. "Haven't you ever heard of Mark Twain?"
> "What does Mark Twain have to do with this?" Mary asked.
> "Mark Twain said he has no respect for a man who can only spell a
> word one way."
 
TOM: Great, the kid's got Stephen Ratliff for English.
 
> We can't win, Mary thought. They're smarter than we are.
 
MIKE: I think we'll just let that one go by.
CROW: Oh, but it's soooo tempting.
 
> She packed a lunch for each of them, but she was concerned about
> Beth, who was on some kind of crazy new diet.
 
MIKE (Mary): Three hamburgers patties, no bun? What planet is this 
   Atkins guy from anyway?
 
> "Please, Beth, eat your lunch today."
> "If it has no artificial preservatives. I'm not going to let the
> greed of the food industry ruin my health."
 
TOM (gruffly): Now I gotta pick up a pack of Camels before school.
 
> Whatever happened to the good old days of junk food, Mary wondered.
>Tim plucked a loose paper from one of Beth's notebooks. "Look at this!"
> he yelled. "'Dear Beth, let's sit together during study period. I
> thought of you all day yesterday and-"
> "Give that back to me!" Beth screamed.
 
CROW: Oh, for the love of...
MIKE (laughing): Sheldon clearly viewed an entire season of 
   "Step By Step" in preparation for this scene.
 
>"That's mine." She made a grab for Tim, and he jumped out of her reach.
> He read the signature at the bottom of the note. "Hey! It's signed
>'Virgil'. I thought you were in love with Arnold."
 
CROW: No, Helga's in love with Arnold. Catch up on your Nicktoons.
 
> Beth snatched the note away from him. "What would you know about
>love?" Mary's twelve-year-old daughter demanded. "You're a child."
 
TOM (Tim): Well, in peace Love tunes the shepherd's reed, in war he mounts
   the warrior's steed.
 
> The pounding in Mary's head was becoming unbearable.
> "Kids- give me a break."
 
MIKE: You're driving me to the edge of realizing how beautiful I am!
 
> She heard the horn of the school bus outside. Tim and Beth started
>toward the door.
> "Wait! You haven't eaten your breakfasts," Mary said.
> She followed them out into the hallway.
> "No time. Mother. Got to go."
> "Bye, Mom."
> "It's freezing outside. Put on your coats and scarves."
 
CROW: And don't shoot up without asking the school nurse for clean
   needles!
 
> "I can't. I lost my scarf," Tim said.
> And they were gone. Mary felt drained. Motherhood is living in the
> eye of a hurricane.
 
MIKE: Mother's just another word for nothing left to lose.
 
> She looked up as Edward came down the stairs, and she felt a glow.
 
TOM: Yup, nothing cures a hangover like seeing the man responsible for it.
 
> Even after all these years, Mary thought, he's still the most attractive
> man I've ever known. It was his gentleness that had first caught Mary's
> interest.
 
CROW (Mary): Wow, you're sure eating that sandwich gently.
MIKE (Mary): Look at him gently cross the street. He's barely touching
   the pavement!
TOM (Mary): What's this? Oh, a gentle restraining order! I have to stay
   fifty gentle feet away from him.
 
>His eyes were a soft gray, reflecting a warm intelligence, but they could
>turn into twin blazes when he became impassioned about something.
 
MIKE (impassioned): I hate blue M&M's!
 
> "Morning, darling." He gave her a kiss. They walked into the
> kitchen.
> "Sweetheart- would you do me a favor?'
> "Sure, beautiful. Anything."
> "I want to sell the children."
 
TOM (calls): Boy for sale!
 
> "Both of them?"
> "Both of them."
> "When?"
> "Today."
> "Who'd buy them?"
> "Strangers.
 
MIKE: Honey, we're upper-class working professionals. To the kids, we
   are strangers.
 
>They've reached the age where I can't do anything right. Beth has became
> a health-food freak,
 
TOM (Mary): The kind you don't take home to me.
 
>-and your son is turning into a world-class dunce."
> Edward said thoughtfully, "Maybe they're not our kids."
> "I hope not.
 
MIKE: Kids suck!
 
> I'm making oatmeal for you."
> He looked at his watch. "Sorry, darling. No time. I'm due in
> surgery in half an hour.
 
CROW: They're removing my pituitary. I should be a nine-foot freak by
   dinner.
 
>Hank Cates got tangled up in some machinery. He may lose a few fingers."
 
TOM: He may not- depends if he pays his outstanding balance.
 
> "Isn't he too old to still be farming?"
> "Don't let him hear you say that."
> Mary knew that Hank Cates had not paid her husband's bills in three
>years.
 
MIKE: Hank's husband Trevor?
 
> Like most of the farmers in the community, he was suffering from the low
> farm prices and the Farm Credit Administration's indifferent attitude
> toward them.
 
CROW: Until three Christmas spirits showed them the true meaning of
   agriculture.
 
> Many were losing farms they had worked on all their lives. Edward never
> pressed any of his patients for money, and many of them paid him with
> crops. The Ashleys had a cellar full of corn, potatoes, and wheat.
 
MIKE (hits a bell): Pit!

>One farmer had offered to give Edward a cow in payment,
 
TOM: Just don't include the gratuity, 'cuz that's (snickering) cow
   tipping! Ha! Cow tipping! Get it?
MIKE (beginning to unscrew the top of Tom's head): Oh, Tommy, me boy,
   you're just not going to survive this novel in one piece, are ya son?
TOM (whimpering): Forgive me, father. I'll stop.
MIKE (stopping for now): I wish I could believe that, son. I want to.
 
>-but when Edward told Mary about it, she said, "For heaven's sake, tell
> him the treatment is on the house."
> Mary looked at her husband now and thought again: how lucky I am.
 
CROW (Mary): Well, better turn the gas on now. I'm coming, Mrs. Plath!
 
> "Okay," she said. "I may decide to keep the kids. I like their
> father a lot."
> "To tell you the truth, I'm rather fond of their mother." He took
> her in his arms and held her close. "Happy birthday, plus one."
 
TOM (Mary): Oh, so I'm supposed to do algebra with a hangover now? 
   Don't talk to me!
 
> "Do you still love me now that I'm an older woman?"
> "I like older women."
 
[Tom and Crow whoop and buzz like a battle stations siren.]
MIKE (like battle computer): Wrong answer. Danger. Wife is now armed and
ticking.
 
> "Thanks." Mary suddenly remembered something.
 
CROW: Repressed memory. Her father left the toilet seat up when she was
   four.
 
>"I've got to get home early today and prepare dinner. It's our turn to
> have the Schiffers over."
> Bridge with their neighbors was a Monday night ritual.
 
MIKE (sings/caterwauls): Are you ready for some BID WHIST?!
 
>The fact that Douglas Schiffer was a doctor and worked with Edward at the
>hospital made them even closer.
 
TOM: Plus their daughter Claudia was one hot German potato salad!
CROW: RrrrrOWrrrr!
 
>Mary and Edward left the house together bowing their heads against the
>relentless wind. Edward strapped himself into his Ford Granada and
> watched Mary as she got behind the wheel of the station wagon.
 
CROW: They strike me as more of a minivan family.
 
> "The highway is probably icy," Edward called. "Drive carefully."
> "You too darling."
> She blew him a kiss, and the two cars drove away from the house,
> Edward heading toward the hospital, and Mary driving toward the town of
> Manhattan,
 
MIKE: Well no wonder the native tribes sold it for twenty-four dollars!
   They thought it was in Kansas!
TOM: Think we could convince Trump to move out there?
CROW: I doubt it.
 
>where the university was located, sixteen miles away.
> Two men in an automobile parked half a block from the Ashley house
>watched the cars leave. They waited until the vehicles were out of
>sight.
> "Let's go."
 
ALL (as the Ramones- Mike beats his knees for the drumbeat): Ay! Oh! 
   Let's go! Ay! Oh! Let's go!
 
> They drove up to the house next door to the Ashleys. Rex Olds, the
>driver, sat in the car while his companion-
 
TOM: -his longtime companion-
 
>walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The door was opened by an
>attractive brunette in her middle thirties.
> "Yes? Can I help you?"
 
CROW: No, ma'am. Just like ringin' doorbells.
 
> "Mrs. Douglas Schiffer?"
> "Yes...?"
> The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an
> identification card. "My name is Donald Zamlock.
 
[ALL snicker.]
 
>I'm with the Security Agency of the State Department."
 
MIKE: Yeah, that or a kid's party magician.
TOM: The Great Zamlok! Huzzah!
 
> "Good God! Don't tell me Doug robbed a bank!"
> The agent smiled politely. "No, Ma'am.
 
CROW (Zamlock): Not a bank, no.
 
> Not that we know of. I wanted ask you a few questions about your
> neighbor, Mrs. Ashley."
> She looked at him with sudden concern. "Mary? What about her?"
> "May I come in?"
> "Yes. Of course." Florence Schiffer led him into the living room.
>"Sit down. Would you like some coffee?"
> "No, thanks.
 
TOM (Florence): Good, I don't have any.
 
> I'll only take a few minutes of your time."
> "Why would you be asking about Mary?"
> He smiled reassuringly. "This is just a routine check.
 
MIKE: So is your routine ready? Cue music, and... FIVE, six, seven,
   eight!
 
> She's not
> suspected of any wrongdoing."
> "I should hope not," Florence Schiffer said indignantly. "Mary
> Ashley is one of the nicest persons you'll ever meet." She added, "Have
> you met her?"
> "Yes ma'am.
 
CROW: Huh? He did? When?
MIKE: Maybe he means he's met her in his rich fantasy life, where she,
   Xena and Liz Phair wait for him each night, tell him he's a bad boy, 
   and model exotic underwear.
 
>This visit is confidential, and I would appreciate it if you kept it that
>way. How long have you known Mrs. Ashley?"
 
TOM (Florence): About twelve feet.
 
> "About thirteen years. Since the day she moved in next door."
> "Would you say that you know Mrs. Ashley well?"
> "Of course I would. Mary's my closest friend. What-?"
> "Do she and her husband get along well?"
 
MIKE (Florence): Well, their legs seem fully functional.
CROW: Not that kind of getting along, you...
 
> "Next to Douglas and me, they're the happiest couple I've ever
> known."
 
TOM (Florence): Of course, when they're not next to us... POW!
 
> "I understand Mrs. Ashley has two children. A girl twelve and a boy
>ten?"
> "That's right, Beth and Tim."
> "Would you say she's a good mother?"
 
MIKE (Florence): Well she's a lousy sea urchin.
 
> "She's a great mother. What's-?"
> "Mrs. Schiffer, in your opinion, is Mrs. Ashley an emotionally
> stable person?"
 
[TOM whispers to Crow.]
CROW: Huh? Oh, OK. Ahem. Say Mike? That's like when inmates at
   Bellevue staff a horse farm, and it's an emotionally personed stable!
[MIKE knocks the dome off Servo's head and across the theater.]
TOM: AAAUGH!!! My face! My face! AAAUGH!!!
CROW: Jiminy crickets, Nelson! You almost hit me!
MIKE: Aw, c'mon, Tom, it's just prosthetic anyway.
TOM: AAAUGH! (immediately calms down) Oh.
 
> "Of course she is."
> "She has no emotional problems that you are aware of?"
> "Certainly not."
> "Does she drink?"
 
TOM: Only to excess.
 
> "No. She doesn't like alcohol."
> "What about drugs?"
> "You've come to the wrong town, mister. We don't have a drug
> problem in Junction City."
 
CROW: Someone should tell Florence what the farmers grow when they can't
   turn a profit.
 
> "Mrs. Ashley is married to a doctor?"
> "Yes."
> "If she wanted to get drugs-?
> "You're way off base.
 
TOM: No, your way's off second base.
CROW: I'm not asking about drugs on second.
TOM: Drugs are on first!
CROW: I don't know!
ALL: Free base!
 
>She doesn't do drugs. She doesn't snort, and she doesn't shoot up."
 
MIKE (Florence): And she doesn't inhale. And she didn't steal no bike,
   neither.
 
> He studied her for a moment. "You seem to know all the
> terminology."
> "I watch Miami Vice, like everyone else.
 
CROW: Ah, remember when Don Johnson was the next Rick Springfield?
MIKE: Yeah, then David Caruso became the next Don Johnson. Of course, now
   with Nash Bridges, Don Johnson is the next Don Johnson.
TOM: My name is Don Johnson. I come from Wisconsin.
 
>Florence Schiffer was getting angry. "Do you have any more questions?"
 
CROW: Oh! Um... Has Mary Ashley ever rebroadcast, retransmit, or had
   any other use...
MIKE: -of the pictures, descriptions, or accounts of Western European
   History...
TOM: -without the expressed written consent of Lynne Cheney?

> "Mary Ashley's grandfather was born in Romania. Have you ever heard
> her discuss Romania?"
> "Oh once in a while she'll tell stories her grandfather told her
> about the old country.
 
TOM: Say, why do we call Middle Europe "the old country"? Egyptian
   civilization predates the most rudimentary European settlements by at
   least...
MIKE: Don't go there.
CROW: Well, he's just saying, if you treated African culture with the 
   same respect you accord your white Eurocentric...
MIKE (covers ears): La-la-la! Can't hear you! La-la-la!
 
> Her grandfather was born in Romanian but he came over here when he was 
> in his teens."
 
CROW: IQ-wise, that is.
 
> "Have you ever heard Mrs. Ashley express a negative opinion about
> the present Romanian government?"
> "No. Not that I can remember."
> "One last question. Have you ever heard Mrs. Ashley or Dr. Ashley
> say anything against the United States government?"
> "Absolutely not!"
 
TOM: Yeah, right. I think anyone who doesn't condemn the government in
   the Midwest is jailed as an illegal immigrant.
 
> "Then in your estimation, they're both loyal Americans?"
> "You bet they are. Would you mind telling me-?"
 
MIKE: -all your thoughts on God? I'd really like to meet her.
 
> The man rose. "I want to thank you for your time, Mrs. Schiffer.
> And I'd like to impress upon you again that this matter is highly
> confidential. I would appreciate it if you didn't discuss it with
> anyone- not even your husband."
 
CROW: And by the way... is THIS your card?
TOM: The Great Zamlok! Huzzah!
 
> A moment later he was out the door. Florence Schiffer stood there
>staring after him. "I don't believe this whole conversation took place,"
> she said aloud.
 
MIKE (ironically): My tax dollars at work. Oy!
 
> The two agents drove down Washington Street, heading north. They
>passed a billboard that read: ENJOY YOURSELF IN THE LAND OF AH'S.
 
CROW: So there's a brothel, then.
TOM: That, or their chief export is tongue depressors.
 
>"Cute," Rex Olds grunted. They went by the chamber of commerce and the
> Royal Order of the Elks building, Irma's Pet Grooming and a bar called
> The Fat Chance.
 
MIKE: Can't a fella find a place to have fun in this town?
TOM: Fat Chance.
 
> The commercial buildings came to an abrupt end.
> Donald Zamlock said, "Jesus, the main street is only two blocks
> long. This isn't a town. It's a pit stop."
> Rex Olds said, "To you it's a pit stop, and to me it's a pit stop,
> but to these people it's a town."
 
CROW (as gruff but lovable Bill the Caretaker from Pod People): To me,
   it's a centipede! It's always been a centipede!
 
> Zamlock shook his head. "It's probably a nice place to live, but I
> sure as hell wouldn't want to visit here."
 
TOM: Yeah, right, Zamlok. Just get in your cape, that Mercury
   dealership's not gonna open itself.
 
> The sedan pulled up in front of the state bank and Rex Olds went
> inside.
> He returned twenty minutes later.
 
MIKE (as Olds to locals): Jeez. Yes, that's right, it's an Olds-mobile,
   ha-ha. Dumb inbreeding hicks.
 
>"Clean," he said, getting into the car. "The Ashleys have seven thousand
> dollars in the bank, a mortgage on their house, and they pay their bills
> on time. The president of the bank thinks the doctor is too soft-hearted
> to be a good businessman, but as far as he's concerned, he's a top
> credit risk."
> Zamlock looked at a clipboard at his side. "Let's check out a few
> more names and get back to civilization before I begin to moo."
 
CROW: Ba-boom! I'm a cow!
TOM: The Great Zamlok!
ALL: Huzzah! (All applaud)
MIKE: Thanks kids, the Great Zamlok will be back at 8:30, in the
   meantime, enjoy your dinner at Chuck E. Cheese's!
 
> Douglas Schiffer was normally a pleasant, easygoing man, but at the
>moment there was a grim expression on his face. The Schiffers and the
>Ashleys were in the middle of their weekly bridge game, and the Schiffers
>were ten thousand points behind.
 
CROW: That's the Georgia Tech-Cumberland of bridge scores!
 
> For the fourth time that evening, Florence Schiffer had reneged.
> Douglas Schiffer slammed down his cards. "Florence!" he exploded.
>"Which side are you playing on? Do you know how much we're down?"
> "I'm sorry," she said nervously. "I-I just can't seem to
>concentrate."
 
TOM: Have you considered switching to- a decaffeinated coffee?
 
> "Obviously," her husband snorted.
> "Is anything bothering you?" Edward Ashley asked Florence.
> "I can't tell you."
 
CROW: These damn hemorrhoids!
 
> They all looked at her in surprise. "What does that mean?" her
> husband asked.
> Florence Schiffer took a deep breath. "Mary- it's about you."
> "What about me?"
 
MIKE (sings): It isn't fair, I've had enough and I want my share...
 
> "You're in some sort of trouble, aren't you?"
> Mary stared at her. "Trouble? No. I-what makes you think that?"
> "I'm not supposed to tell. I promised."
> "You promised who?" Edward asked.
> "A federal agent from Washington.
 
TOM: There, ya see, this is what happens when national security is left
   to the honor system.
 
> He was at the house this morning asking me all kind of questions about
> Mary.
 
MIKE: Like what she did with Peter and Paul.
 
> He made her sound like some kind of international spy."
> "What kind of questions?" Edward demanded.
> "Oh, you know. Was she a loyal American? Was she a good wife and
> mother?
 
CROW: Did I think she'd go out with him?
 
>Was she on drugs?"
> "Why the devil would they be asking you questions like that?"
> "Wait a minute," Mary said excitedly. "I think I know. It's about
> my tenure."
 
[ALL titter.]
MIKE: Yeah. Right. Tenure. Uh-huh. Sure.
 
> "What?" Florence asked.
> "I'm up for tenure. The university does some sensitive government
> research on campus,
 
TOM: You know- ozone layer. Cow flatulence. Hush-hush.
 
>-so I suppose they have to check everyone pretty thoroughly.
 
MIKE: Yeah, I guess surreptitious State Department interrogations are
   pretty much SOP on campus these days.
CROW: She's gotta have her doctorate. It takes at least six years to get
   this stupid.
 
> "Well, thank God that's all it is." Florence Schiffer breathed a
> sigh of relief. "I thought they were going to lock you up."
> "I hope they do," Mary smiled. "At Kansas State."
 
TOM: We hope they do- at Lebanworth.
 
> "Well now that that's out of the way," Douglas Schiffer said. "Can
> we get on with the game?" He turned to his wife. "If you renege one
> more time, I'm going to put you over my knee."
 
ALL: Ewwww!
 
> "Promises, promises."
 
MIKE: That was very unright- and not in a good way, either.
 
> 7
>
 
CROW: 7? What happened to 5 and 6?
 
TOM: Shh! Don't remind them!
 
> President Paul Ellison put down the last security report on Mary
> Ashley and said, "Not a blemish, Stan."
 
CROW: Nope, pretty sure it's a cyst.
 
> "I know. I think she's the perfect candidate. Of course, State
> isn't going to be happy."
 
MIKE: A state named State? That must be where generic products come
   from.
 
> "We'll send them a crying towel.
 
TOM: Oh, The Crying Towel is what Jaye Davison dropped to expose his-
MIKE: Crow!
CROW: What? Tom said it!
MIKE: Oh, sorry. Tom!
TOM: What? It wasn't a pun!
MIKE: Oh. Well- whichever one of you is in trouble, cut it out!
 
> Now let's hope the Senate will back us up."
>
> Mary Ashley's office in Kedzie Hall was a small pleasant room with
> bookcases that were crammed with reference books on Middle European
> countries.
 
CROW: The third shelf of books seceded, and subjected its neighbors to
   ethnic cleansing.
 
> The furniture was sparse, consisting of a battered desk with a swivel,
> chair a small table at the window piled with examination papers, a
> ladder-back chair,
 
TOM: Mike? If I hypothetically said that was made by the Ladder-Day
   Saints?
MIKE: Well... you know, I'd hypothetically-
 
[MIKE takes hold of the remains of Servo's head and twists it 180 
 degrees.]
 
TOM: AAAUGH!
MIKE: Hypothetically.
CROW: What is your deal today, Nelson?!
MIKE (resentful): He started it.
 
> and a reading lamp. On the wall behind the desk was a map of the
> Balkans.
 
TOM: Where? I can't see!
CROW: You can't see anyway, Tommy. It's a book.
 
> An ancient photograph of Mary's grandfather hung on the wall. It had
> been taken around the turn of the century, and the figure in the
> photograph was standing in a stiff, unnatural pose, dressed in the
> clothes of the period. The picture was one of Mary's treasures.
 
MIKE: Oh, Mary's Treasures, the cut-rate Veronica's Secret.
CROW: I don't know, Nelson. That sounds suspiciously like a pun to me.
MIKE: Hmm. You're right.
[MIKE grabs his own head, and twists it 180 degrees.]
CROW and TOM: AAAUGH! Omigodomigod! AAAUGH!
 
> It had been her grandfather who had instilled in her a deep curiosity
> about Romania. He had told her romantic stories of Queen Marie, and
> baronesses and princesses, tales of Albert, the prince consort of
> England, and Alexander II, czar of Russia, and dozens of other 
> thrilling characters.
> Somewhere in our background there is royal blood. If the revolution
> had not come, you would have been a princess.
 
MIKE (shrill like girl in "The Little Princess"): Every little girl is a
   princess. Didn't your father ever tell you that? DIDN'T HE?!
CROW (whimpering in prayer): Ourfatherwhoartinheavenhallowedbethyname...
TOM: He's Satan! We're in Hell! AAAUGH!
 
> She used to have dreams about it.
 
[MIKE returns his head to normal, then twists Servo's head back into
 place.]
MIKE: I'm kidding, you rubes. I'm just getting you back for the mental
   spat. I'm not Satan.
[CROW and Servo stare at him incredulously for a beat, then bust a gut
 laughing.]
CROW: D'oh!
TOM: You nut! C'mere, you!
 
> Mary was in the middle of grading examination papers when the door
>opened and Dean Hunter walked in.
 
CROW: Wow! Fred Dryer in Animal House! This should be cool!
TOM (as Eastwood): I know what you're thinking, Bluto. Did I suspend six
   members of Delta House, or only five?
 
> "Good morning, Mrs. Ashley. Do you have a moment?" It was the first
>time the dean had ever visited her office.
 
MIKE: Oh, no, this is where she's upset 'cuz he never comes to her
   office, and he's upset 'cuz she never invited him, and they wind up
   hugging over an international coffee.
 
> Mary felt a sudden sense of elation. There could be only one reason
>for the dean coming here himself. He was going to tell her the
> university was giving her tenure.
 
CROW (in magical pixie voice): And she'd win the ruby slippers, and Jo
   would marry Laurie, and all would be right as rain!
 
> "Of course," she said. "Won't you sit down?"
> He sat down on the ladder-back chair.
 
MIKE: Ow! My head!
TOM: Watch that first step! (chuckles) Of the ladder that hit him in the
   back of the head, you see...
 
>"How are your classes going?"
> "Very well, I think." She could not wait to relay the news to
> Edward. He would be so proud. It was seldom that someone her age
> received tenure from a university.
 
CROW: Usually they received a spanking!
 
> Dean Hunter seemed ill at ease. "Are you in some kind of trouble,
> Mrs. Ashley?"
> The question caught her completely off guard. "Trouble?
 
MIKE (Mary): Right here in Junction City?
 
> I- no.
 
TOM: The negative interstate highway.
 
> Why?"
> "Some men from Washington came to see me, asking questions about
> you."
> Mary Ashley heard the echo of Florence Schiffer's words: Some
> federal agents from Washington...
 
CROW (as echo): Washington... Washington...
 
>He was asking all kinds of questions about Mary.
 
TOM: Mary... Mary...
 
>He made her sound like some kind of international spy...
 
MIKE: Spy... spy...
TOM: There is no-o-o-o sanctuary... A-a-a-all frozen...
MIKE: I ho-o-ope no one assa-a-a-asinates the ba-a-astard.
CROW: Tom Stewart killed me!
 
>Was she a loyal American? Was she a good wife and good mother?

MIKE: Was she haunted by echoing voices in her head... head... head...
CROW: Um, Mike? It's over.
MIKE: Oh. OK.
 
> So it had not been about her tenure, after all. She suddenly found
> it difficult to speak. "What- what did they want to know, Dean Hunter?"
 
TOM (as Eastwood): They want to know about the rights of that little
   girl.
MIKE (laughing): OK, Tom. That's enough pretending to be Dryer 
   pretending to be Eastwood.
 
> "They inquired about your reputation as a professor, and they asked
> questions about your personal life."
 
CROW (as Dean): And I got them all right. Even the Daily Double about
   where you soak your fine washables!
 
> "I can't explain it. I really don't know what's going on. I'm in
> no kind of trouble at all.
 
TOM (as Mary): Ignorance is safety!
 
> As far as I know," she added lamely.
 
MIKE (resentful): More lamely.
 
> He was watching her with obvious skepticism.
> "Didn't they tell you why they were asking questions about me?"
> "No. As a matter of fact, I was asked to keep the conversation in
> strict confidence. But I have a loyalty to my staff, and I felt it only
> fair that you should be informed about this.
 
TOM: Fellas, I'm startin' to think State Department intelligence would be
   safer if it were broadcast on Comedy Central.
 
> If there is something I should know, I would prefer to hear it from 
> you. Any scandal involving one of our professors would reflect badly on 
> the university."
> She shook her head helplessly. "I-I really can't think of
> anything."
 
MIKE: Well, she's stickin' with a believable story, anyway.
 
> He looked at her a moment, as though about to say something else, then
> nodded. "So be it, Mrs. Ashley."
> She watched him walk out of her office and wondered, what in God's
> name could I have done?
 
CROW: Bewildered, she dropped by her numbers operation to review the
   night's receipts.
 
> Mary was very quiet during dinner. She wanted to wait until Edward
> finished eating before she broke the news of this latest development.
> They would try to figure out the problem together. The children were
> being impossible again. Beth refused to touch dinner.
 
TOM: You touch your dinner young lady! Touch it!
 
> "No one eats meat anymore. It's a barbaric custom carried over from
> the cavemen. Civilized people don't eat live animals."
> "It's not alive," Tim argued. "It's dead, so you might as well eat
> it."
 
MIKE (sarcasm): Oh good! They're back! I had so missed their snappy 
   reparté!
CROW: It's just like Frasier, except I wish every one of them would die!
 
> "Children!" Mary's nerves were on edge. "Not another word. Beth,
> go make yourself a salad."
> "She should go graze in a field," Tim offered.
 
TOM: Yeah, a minefield. You go with her.
 
> "Tim! You finish you dinner." Her head was beginning to pound.
> "Edward-"
> The telephone rang.
> "That's for me," Beth said. She leaped out of her chair and raced
> toward the telephone. She picked up and said seductively, "Virgil?"
 
TOM: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! She is NOT speaking seductively, she is TWELVE!
 
> She listened a moment, and her expression changed. "Oh, sure," she said
> disgustedly. She slammed down the receiver and returned to the table.
> "What was that all about?" Edward asked.
 
CROW (Beth): Linda Tripp, swearing she'd never record our phone
   conversations again, the bitch.
 
> "Some practical joker. He said it was the White House calling Mom."
> "The White House?!" Edward asked.
 
MIKE (Beth): Oh, Mom also got a call from Hull House. Dad got a call
   from Maxwell House, and Tim the International House of Pancakes.
 
> The telephone rang again.
> "I'll get it," Mary said. She rose and walked over to the
> telephone. "Hello." As she listened, her face grew grim.
 
CROW: Oh, I love this. This is her Bob Newhart impression. It'll kill
   ya. Watch.
 
>"We're in the middle of dinner, and I don't happen to think this is
> funny.
 
MIKE (resentful): Or suspenseful. Or heartwarming. Or interesting.
 
> You can't just- what? ... Who?
 
TOM (in terror): The calls are coming from inside the phone!
 
> The President?" There was a sudden hush in the room. "Wait a- I- Oh,
> good evening, Mr. President." There was a dazed expression on her face.
> Her family was watching her, wide-eyed. "Yes, sir, I do. I recognize
> your voice. I- I'm sorry about hanging up a moment ago. Beth thought
> it was Virgil, and- yes, sir.
 
CROW (Mary): Beth, the President wants to know what you're wearing! Skin-
tight jeans, Mr. President.
 
> Thank you." She stood there listening. "Would I be willing to serve as
> what?" Her face suddenly flushed.
 
TOM: Since the house has no bathroom, it's the only thing that can.
 
> Edward was on his feet, moving toward the phone, the children close
> behind him.
> "There must be some mistake, Mr. President. My name is Mary Ashley.
 
CROW (Mary): And I'm an alcoholic.
 
> I'm a professor at Kansas State University, and- You read it?
 
MIKE (as if speaking from phone): I certainly did.
 
> Thank you, sir...
 
MIKE (phone): Lotta words in that thing.
 
> That's very kind of you...
 
MIKE (phone): 54,906 if I'm not mistaken.
 
> Yes I believe it is..." She listened for a long time.
 
TOM (phone): Never was much of a word man myself. Always preferred
   pictograms. No one knows what you're saying, but they think it's 
   damn eloquent.
 
>"Yes, sir, I agree. But that doesn't mean I...
 
CROW (phone): I want you to write a book in numbers.
 
> Yes, sir. Yes, sir I see. Well, I'm certainly flattered. I'm sure it's
> a wonderful opportunity, but I...
 
CROW (phone): Not even any spaces. Just one, big, four million digit
   number. About an asteroid hitting the Earth.
 
>-of course I will.
 
TOM (phone): Good.
 
> I'll talk it over with my husband and get back to you." She picked up a
> pen and wrote down a number.
 
TOM (phone): No, don't write the number now! Put some thought into it! 
   I want this number to tell a great story. Real Movie of the Week 
   potential. Maybe a miniseries. Just make sure it has a vampire in 
   it somewhere, and a speedboat chase. Oh, and work in a love story!
 
>"Yes, sir. I have it. Thank you, Mr. President. Good-bye."
> She slowly replaced the receiver and stood there in shock.
> "What in God's name was that all about?" Edward demanded.
> "Was that really the President?" Tim asked.
> Mary sank in a chair, "Yes. It really was."
 
MIKE (Mary): He offered me one million dollars- to spend just one 
   night with my husband!
 
> Edward took Mary's hand in his. "Mary- what did he say? What did
> he want?"
> Mary sat there, numb, thinking: So that's what all the questioning
> has been about.
 
TOM: It had nothing to do with the Hokey Pokey!
 
> She looked up at Edward and the children and said slowly, "The
> President read my book and the article of mine in Foreign Affairs
> magazine, and he thought it was brilliant. He said that's the kind of
> thinking he wants for his people-to-people program. He wants to
> nominate me as ambassador to Romania."
 
MIKE: When he knows I have Rophobia.
 
> There was a look of total disbelief on Edward's face.
> "You? Why you?"
 
CROW: Ah, the same words he spoke on their wedding night.

> It was exactly what Mary had asked herself, but she felt that Edward
> could have been more tactful. He could have said, "How wonderful! You'd
> make a great ambassador."
 
MIKE: Or, "God Almighty! What the hell were they thinking?"
 
> But he was being realistic. Why me, indeed?
> "You haven't had any political experience."
> "I'm well aware of that," Mary responded tartly. "I agree the whole
> thing is ridiculous."
> "Are you going to be the ambassador?" Tim asked. "Are we moving to
> Rome?"
> "Romania."
> "Where's Romania?"
 
TOM (vindictively): Up your scrawny prepubescent-
MIKE (picks up Tom, begins to leave theater): Tom, let's just take a 
   deep cleansing breath, OK?
TOM (sobs): I'm sorry, Mike. It's just... what does any of this have to
   do with windmills of the gods?
MIKE: Well... you know. It's a metaphor and stuff.
TOM (still sobbing): We're not in Amsterdam, Don Quixote's nowhere to be
   seen, and the only Odin in the neighborhood probably hides in the 
   garage the minute his wife starts hollering how they never go 
   anywhere anymore.
CROW: Hey, buck up, pal. It's just a title. Like "The Last Picture
   Show".
TOM (still sobbing): If only it were!

/ * \ ... = 2 =... > 3 < ... [ 4 ]... ( 5 )... | 6 |...

[OPEN ON: SOL Bridge.  There is a spinning disco ball on the bridge. 
 Tom is dressed in a ridiculous white Travolta suit, standing around 
 waiting for Crow, and he is not pleased. Crow enters and addresses 
 Cambot.]
 
CROW: Ahem. Good evening. Welcome to "Disco of the Gods", a playlet by
   Crow T.Robot. Based on characters created by Sidney Sheldon. Who were
   featured in a work by Sidney Sheldon. That were thought up in the head 
   of Sidney-
TOM: Crow! Can we get on with this! I feel like a milkman who lost his
   hat!
CROW: Oh. Right. OK, well before we begin, I think I have to set up the
   scene because this is actually a very small part of a larger work, 
   which I am currently in the midst of trying to get out of the middle 
   of figuring out what it is that I want to have happening in it... yet.
TOM: Crow, can we please just do the damn playlet! I still gotta grab 
   the last Goo-Goo Cluster before Mike gets his fleshy maw on it.
CROW: Um, OK. This is what I imagine would happen if Stanton Rogers and
   Mary Ashley met in a swinging 70's singles bar long before either of 
   them even dreamed of their future as poorly-drawn characters in 
   "Windmills of the Gods".
 
[CROW leaves the foreground, and re-enters in front of Tom.]
 
TOM (clears throat, begins as swinging single): Sta-
CROW (interrupts): Oh. Tom will be playing the part of Stanton Rogers.
TOM: They know that, Crow!
CROW: Well, good. Clarity is helpful.
TOM (composes himself, clears his throat, starts again): Sta-
CROW: Oh, and I'll be playing Mary Ashley.
TOM (furious): They know that Crow!
CROW: Well I'm not in costume, so they might-
TOM: Who am I?
CROW: Stanton Rogers.
TOM: Who am I supposed to meet?
CROW: Mary Ashley.
TOM: Who's the only other person here?
CROW: Well-
TOM: THEY KNOW YOU'RE MARY FLIPPIN' ASHLEY ALREADY!
 
[MIKE walks in eating a Goo-Goo cluster.]
 
MIKE: Hey guys. What's up?
 
[TOM sees the Goo-Goo Cluster, chokes back a whimper or two, then screams
 in frustration and leaves.]
 
MIKE: Oh, hey, this your playlet? Can I do it with you?
CROW: Sure, take the Stanton Rogers part. 
MIKE: Ok, let me just take a second here...
 
[Mike puts down candy, reads, takes some deep breaths, and gets into
 character. Reads next line as swinging Stanton Rogers introducing
 himself.]
 
MIKE: Stanton Rogers. 
CROW (introducing herself): Mary Ashley.
MIKE (offering a drink): Tom Collins?
CROW (declining): Johnnie Walker.
 
[Suddenly the satellite shakes as we hear a crash, and Mike and Crow lose
 their balance.]
 
MIKE: Whoa! Cambot, give me rocket number nine!
 
[CUT TO:EXTERIOR OF SOL.  A ship made out a huge paperback novel has 
 hit the SOL.]
 
[CUT TO: SOL Bridge. The Hexfield Viewscreen irises open to reveal a 
 happy, bon vivant Englishmen in a comfortable lounge chair, wearing 
 a smoking jacket, puffing on a pipe and swirling a snifter of Chivas 
 Regal. He looks like a figure who would command your respect, until you 
 realize it's just Paul Chaplin in a bathrobe.]
 
CROW and MIKE: Sidney Sheldon!
SIDNEY (gregariously): Greetings and felicitations to the Satellite of-
MIKE (interrupting as light flashes): Um, Mr. Sheldon? I'm sorry, 
   we have commercial sign.
SIDNEY (after chewing on his pipe): Oh. Well, never mind, then. Cheerio!
 
[Hexfield closes.]
 
CROW: Poor guy. We should send him some mail-order steaks.
MIKE: Hey, who swiped my Goo-Goo Cluster?
 
[TOM chuckles off-screen]
 
[Logo, commercials. Obey your thirst! Cluck like a chicken!]
 
--- End Part 3 ---
 
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