Darkess in an alley downtown next to the Co-operative grocery. The wind blows furiously. Judy wears sunglasses and a tight trench coat and waits in the alley. She stares at the door to the Co-op. People enter and exit. Paul, her brother, exits in an apron, but doesn’t notice her. He walks down the sidewalk and Judy starts to follow him.
Judy: Paul- Paul- Wait.
He turns.
Judy: May I speak with you?
Paul: Who are you- wait- Judy?
Judy: Yes, it’s me.
Paul: I want nothing more to do with you.
Judy: No, no, no. Wait. Wait. Please hear me out. I’m ready-
Paul: Ready for what? Don't you know what time it is? Shouldn't you be at home with your Alfie?
Judy: Come with me for a second.
Paul: Where? I have to go back to work. I’m just going down the street for the newspaper.
Judy: Newspaper?
Paul: Yeah, they put it in the stands just before midnight before the next day.
Judy: Come on. It’ll only be a few minutes. Just come into this alley with me.
Paul: I don’t have time for your tricks.
Judy: This isn’t a trick. This- This is real.
Paul: Prove it to me.
Judy takes his arm and she leads him into the alley. He stands waiting.
Paul: How can you see anything in those glasses?
Judy: I can't really. Here. (removes glasses) Okay. Okay. Hear me out. I know you are an idealist. A feminist. You have a way of making people feel comfortable. But remember when you were different? Remember when you voted republican?
Paul: Don’t remind me. What is this all about?
Judy: You know. The reason you stopped talking to me.
Paul: I stopped talking to you, because you married him. You did everything to please him. It wasn’t about anybody anymore, but Alfred.
Judy: I know. I know. I was blinded by him, the money-
Paul: Exactly. How has any of this changed?
Judy: His son. His son has been threatening my life. He comes to the house and harasses me.
Paul: And?
Judy: I told Alfred. And all he does is compare me to his first wife.
Paul: The one you replaced, because-
Judy: Paul . . .I don’t want a public scandal. I just want to be good again. I mean that. I want to do things with my life, but I feel trapped in this marriage.
Paul: Get a divorce.
Judy: He won’t allow it. He won’t.
Paul: Judy, what is this all about?
Judy: Remember when you used to dream of being a senator? Remember those days. . .
Paul: I left politics, Judy. I hate politics.
Judy: I know. I know. But I know about those days. I know about the drugs. I know about the lies. I know about the people on the outskirts of the fringe. . .
Paul: I have nothing to say about them anymore. I have to get to work.
Judy: Paul, I know what you tried to do to Senator Tompkins.
Paul: (Silence.)
Judy: I need that guy.
Paul: You need psychiatric help.
Judy: Paul.
Paul: I don’t want to talk about this.
Judy: Then let’s play the game. That game we played when we were growing up when we didn’t want our parents to know what we were saying. Okay? Hear me out, please.
Paul: What?
Judy: I’ll tell you that I must live with Alfred. I love him so much. He glorifies me everyday. He makes me feel so special. So loved. So empowered. I don’t want to talk to that man that was your dealer. He was such a clean man. I know he would not be able to help me. I don’t want his help.
Paul: Judy.
Judy: Paul, since you are in my life so much now because you have always loved me so much. This is the first of many favors.
Paul: I believe it.
Judy: Remember the game, Paul. Remember the good times we had? You see I want to monopolize your time. I want to be in your life again. I don’t want this one favor, because I am so happy in my marriage. (She breaks down and falls to her knees.)
Paul: (rushing to help her) Judy!
Judy: Alfred, never gave soft money to Senator Tompkins. I don’t want this favor.
Paul: I’ll give you his number. But my hands are clean of this. I never saw you today and I don’t want to see you again. My life is different now. I lead a simple life. I’m not playing anymore games. This is it. (He takes out a piece of paper scrawls a number and then walks away.) Good-bye, Judy. I really don’t want to see you again.
Judy: Paul, I still love you.
Paul: I know. I would love you too if you didn’t bring trouble wherever you went.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
8: A Family Dinner
The Windhover Dining Room. Camden sits at the head of the table. Denise, his wife appears in the doorway. Clara, the cook, brings out the covered tins of food and sets them down. Light jazz plays. A crystal chandelier hangs above the table.
Camden: Candles? Where are the Candles?
Clara: I will get them right away, Mr. Windhover. (She exits to the kitchen.)
Denise: Camden. . .listen to the jazz.
Camden: Denise, take a seat now. You are making me nervous.
Denise: (sits, long Silence)
Camden: All of this food is getting cold. It’s ten after.
Clara re-enters.
Clara: These were all I could find.
Camden: That’s fine. Set them down. Set them down. You shouldn’t even be in here right now. It’s our dinner time.
Clara: You asked for candles.
Camden: I shouldn’t have to ask for things. You should know.
Clara: But I’m not psychic.
Camden: Wouldn’t you say, Denise, that the makings of a good cook in ones household are the way that they are able to pick up on their master’s tastes and sensibilities?
Clara: Did you say master to me?
Camden: Nevermind. Now is not the time to discuss this. Please light these and go into the other room. Don’t come back until it’s time for dessert.
Clara: Fine. (She leaves the lighter on the table and exits.)
Camden: I don’t think we should have hired her. She doesn’t know anything about cooking.
Denise: (Silence)
The doorbell rings.
Camden: That must be them. Clara! Could you get the door?
Silence.
Camden: Clara!? . . .Clara. . .
Clara: I’m gone. Remember? Get the door yourself!
Camden: Denise, get the door.
Denise exits and a few moments later Janet enters with her and behind them Michael, holding a bottle of wine. Camden stands.
Denise: Janet-
Camden: Janet, what on earth happened to your eye?
Janet: A mean man at the fruit stand threw an apple at me.
Camden: A mean man? Hmmm. What didn't you help him?
Janet: He snuck into the market before it was open. We called security.
Denise: Who? Carol did?
Janet: Yeah.
Denise: Did you catch the man? I don't know if I want you working there.
Camden: Nonsense, Paula wouldn't allow her to work there if she couldn't do it. Besides I don't think that's where she got the bruise.
Janet: I know where I got this eye, Dad.
Camden: Nevermind.
Denise: Where do you think she got this eye then?
Camden:: Ahhh, Michael. You must be Michael, old chap.
Michael: Nice to meet you, sir. Janet has told me a lot about you.
Camden: Hopefully only good things.
Michael and Janet exchange a glance.
Camden: What was that look for?
Janet: What look?
Camden: You just gave Michael a look.
Janet: No, I didn’t.
Camden: You looked at him. What did you mean?
Janet: What do you mean?
Michael: I assure-
Camden: Quiet. This is my house, boy.
Silence.
Camden: Everybody have a seat. Oh no. Janet, you there. Michael, over here by me. Denise, sit down.
Silence.
Michael: (holding up the bottle) Oh, I brought this for you. Some Italian wine.
Camden: (taking it, examining) Amarone? 1986. Good year. Thank you, Michael. See that, Denise? Amarone. What a nice gesture.
Camden stares at Denise.
Michael: So what do you do?
Camden: I’m a surgeon. Janet, didn’t tell you?
Michael: No. Do you have a specialty in surgery?
Camden: Well, the way Americans have gotten so fat these days, I mostly perform bypasses. Mostly triple bypasses, but a few quadruple bypasses. I don’t know what to tell you, but this country has gotten so fat.
Michael: That’s true.
Camden: I thought your leg was broken. Janet said that you had a broken leg?
Michael: I had it set yesterday.
Camden: Well it must not have been broken, because you should know of all people that a set leg isn’t able to be walked on for several weeks. What happened?
Michael: Well I thought it was broken, but turns out that my leg had only popped out of the socket. They just needed to pop it back in.
Camden: Oh. So how’d it happen?
Michael: Tennis. A tennis match with my roommate.
Silence.
Camden: Well since you are so late, I’m sure the food is cold. So let’s begin.
Michael: Mrs. Windhover, what do you do?
Camden: She doesn’t work.
Michael: Oh.
Camden: Did you grow up in the area, Michael?
Michael: Yes. Yes. I did.
Camden: What do your parents do?
Denise: Camden. . .that’s enough.
Camden: I’d like to know.
Denise: The food is cold enough, you already said so.
Janet: Can I tell Michael what we’re doing?
Camden: Fine.
Janet: When I was little, I would talk at all the meals. So when it’s dinner time at our house, we eat without talking.
Michael: But you aren’t little anymore.
Camden: No, but she still is prone to talk, aren’t you?
Janet: Sometimes.
Michael: What are we having? Smells delicious.
Camden: Cook prepared shrimp scampi with prime rib.
Michael: Oh no. I have a shell fish allergy.
Camden: Then don’t eat the shellfish ding-a-ling.
Silence. The food is passed around the table.
Michael: But my allergy is severe. If the scampi has touched the ribs.
Camden: Then don’t eat. Sit there and wait. Cook. Cook.
Clara: (entering) What now?
Camden: Can you whip up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for my daughter’s boyfriend? He is allergic to shellfish.
Clara: Fine. (She exits)
Michael: Well, while I wait for my sandwich, may I talk?
Camden: Go ahead, but I’m not sure you’ll get a response.
Michael: Well, I wanted to speak with you about my proposal to your daughter.
Camden: Can’t that wait, until after dinner? Do you have no manners at all? You don’t ask the blessing in front of the women. You wait until we are having a cigar in my den.
Michael: Sorry, sir, if I don’t know your rules, but first of all, I don’t smoke cigars.
Camden: They’re smuggled from Cuba. You will have one.
Michael: Alright. Okay. I will have one, but this isn’t about asking your blessing. It’s about telling you that the wedding will be in two months.
Denise spills her water. Camden spits up his food into a napkin.
Camden: Excuse me. Why on earth-
Michael: We are in-
Camden: I’m not asking you. Janet-
Janet: We are in love. I want to move in with him.
Camden: That is no reason.
Janet: How long did you and mom know each other before getting married?
Camden: Nevermind. This is a different generation and a different circumstance. You are my daughter.
Michael: You don’t own her.
Camden: Do not tell me what I own.
Michael: Fine.
Denise: Camden. Stop it. Now. We’ll talk later.
Everyone sits in silence and eats. Clara appears in the doorway.
Camden: You may bring the sandwich to the young man.
Clara: I know already. (She brings the sandwich to Michael, sees him, and they look at each other.)
Camden: What is it?
Clara: (staring) Nothing I just got the strangest sense of Déjà vu.
Camden: Yeah, yeah. That’s nice. Please go prepare dessert.
Clara: It’s already ready.
Camden: Well make sure it’s fresh.
Clara: Okay. (She exits with her eye on Michael.)
Camden: So I have an interesting story. It appears the neighborhood has a thief in its midst.
Michael: What do you mean?
Camden: All of the carrots I grew in my garden are missing. Just gone. Uprooted and walked out of the patch. Now if it would have been a rabbit or a mole problem, I would be able to tell by the operation. . .teeth marks on remnants of carrot gore or something of that nature. .. but this job was clean. Very clean. Done by a human no doubt. A human thief.
Michael: Strange.
Camden: Very strange.
Janet: So what are you going to do about it?
Camden: I’m going to find out who did it.
Janet: How?
Camden: There are ways. Traps to set etc. etc. This steak is really good, don’t you think?
Silence.
Michael: My sandwich is very good. Tell Clara I said so.
Camden: How do you know her name?
Michael: You said it. I think you said it.
Camden: I didn’t think I had. I don’t call the help by their first names.
Denise: Maybe I said it. Who knows. Get over it.
Long Silence. Everyone eats.
Camden: So. . .Yale.
Michael: Yale.
Camden: You got accepted?
Michael: Yes.
Camden: I went there you know.
Michael: I didn’t know. You never said anything about that.
Janet: I don’t like to talk about it. It’s all he cares about.
Camden: Janet, Yale is a big deal. I could put in a word for your boyfriend.
Janet: What types of words would you say?
Camden: Oh nice things. Good things. Special things.
Michael: You would do that for me?
Camden: Yes. I could.
Michael: Wow. That’d be so nice.
Camden: What is your student ID number?
Michael: What?
Camden: I will call tomorrow and put in a good word for you. Make sure you get the special treatment. I am still a big donor for the school. I have some clout. So it’ll be no trouble. What is your student ID number?
Michael: What’s that?
Camden: The number the school gives you as your identification number. That’s how they look up the students in their system.
Michael: Oh that. I have it on my admittance letter, but I haven’t memorized it yet.
Camden: Well what’s your last name?
A cellular phone rings.
Camden: Janet, how many times-
Michael: It’s mine. Sorry. Oh shit. I mean. . .oh no. crap. Sorry for cussing.
Janet: What is it?
Michael: I’m on call tonight. I’m going to have to jet. I have to go fight a fire.
Camden: A fire, now?
Michael: Yeah. I don’t really get to pick and choose when they happen. It’s sort of an emergency.
Camden: Do you even get paid for such a venture?
Michael: We get a stipend, but I really have to go. I’m sorry.
Camden: Not as sorry as you are going to be.
Denise: Camden!
Camden: I just mean sorry in the sense he has to go fight a fire . . .now. . .of all times.
Michael: Maybe we can re-schedule?
Camden: Maybe indeed.
Janet: Dad!
Denise: You are being unfair.
Michael: Thank you for the wonderful dinner. I really am quite embarrassed that this is happening. Can we do a raincheck?
Camden: We’ll see.
Michael: (kissing Janet on the forehead) I’m really very sorry, dear.
Janet: You have to do what you have to do.
Michael: I will call you later.
Janet: You better.
Michael: It was nice to meet you. . .all of you. Good night. (He exits.)
Camden: I don’t know why I offer to be nice to youngsters who just want to take advantage of me.
Denise: He did not, Camden. He is doing good. So stop it.
Camden: Amarone, Denise? That bottle is probably 75 dollars. That’s it? That’s all to pay his respects?
Denise: Stop being such a snob.
Camden: I even offered to give him a good recommendation.
Denise: You still will.
Camden: He didn’t tell me his last name, how am I supposed to? (pause, to Janet) Please recommend Michael BlahBlahBlah for- Hell, I don’t even know what he’s studying.
Janet: I don’t think his last name is BlahBlahBlah.
Camden: I know that.
Janet: Then why’d you-
Camden: What is his last name?
Janet: (thinking) I don’t know.
Camden: You don’t know?! You are going to marry this guy in two months and you don’t know his last name? What is wrong with this world? Somebody tell me. I don’t know if I’m going to give my blessing to something like this.
Denise: They will get married with or without you, Camden. The world doesn’t revolve around you.
Camden: Well we’ll see if I don’t give a bad recommendation.
Janet: Why would you do that?
Camden: Because I can.
Janet: I could kill you, but it doesn’t mean I will. I can do a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean I should. Sometimes people are wrong.
Camden: That’s right, sometimes they are. Cook. Cook.
Clara enters.
Camden: Bring my dessert to my room. Find out his last name for me, please.
Clara: I don’t know it, sir.
Camden: Not you. My daughter. I.E. the one who is getting married to him!
Janet: Okay.
Camden: Turn off that infernal Jazz. It's giving me a headache.
Camden: Candles? Where are the Candles?
Clara: I will get them right away, Mr. Windhover. (She exits to the kitchen.)
Denise: Camden. . .listen to the jazz.
Camden: Denise, take a seat now. You are making me nervous.
Denise: (sits, long Silence)
Camden: All of this food is getting cold. It’s ten after.
Clara re-enters.
Clara: These were all I could find.
Camden: That’s fine. Set them down. Set them down. You shouldn’t even be in here right now. It’s our dinner time.
Clara: You asked for candles.
Camden: I shouldn’t have to ask for things. You should know.
Clara: But I’m not psychic.
Camden: Wouldn’t you say, Denise, that the makings of a good cook in ones household are the way that they are able to pick up on their master’s tastes and sensibilities?
Clara: Did you say master to me?
Camden: Nevermind. Now is not the time to discuss this. Please light these and go into the other room. Don’t come back until it’s time for dessert.
Clara: Fine. (She leaves the lighter on the table and exits.)
Camden: I don’t think we should have hired her. She doesn’t know anything about cooking.
Denise: (Silence)
The doorbell rings.
Camden: That must be them. Clara! Could you get the door?
Silence.
Camden: Clara!? . . .Clara. . .
Clara: I’m gone. Remember? Get the door yourself!
Camden: Denise, get the door.
Denise exits and a few moments later Janet enters with her and behind them Michael, holding a bottle of wine. Camden stands.
Denise: Janet-
Camden: Janet, what on earth happened to your eye?
Janet: A mean man at the fruit stand threw an apple at me.
Camden: A mean man? Hmmm. What didn't you help him?
Janet: He snuck into the market before it was open. We called security.
Denise: Who? Carol did?
Janet: Yeah.
Denise: Did you catch the man? I don't know if I want you working there.
Camden: Nonsense, Paula wouldn't allow her to work there if she couldn't do it. Besides I don't think that's where she got the bruise.
Janet: I know where I got this eye, Dad.
Camden: Nevermind.
Denise: Where do you think she got this eye then?
Camden:: Ahhh, Michael. You must be Michael, old chap.
Michael: Nice to meet you, sir. Janet has told me a lot about you.
Camden: Hopefully only good things.
Michael and Janet exchange a glance.
Camden: What was that look for?
Janet: What look?
Camden: You just gave Michael a look.
Janet: No, I didn’t.
Camden: You looked at him. What did you mean?
Janet: What do you mean?
Michael: I assure-
Camden: Quiet. This is my house, boy.
Silence.
Camden: Everybody have a seat. Oh no. Janet, you there. Michael, over here by me. Denise, sit down.
Silence.
Michael: (holding up the bottle) Oh, I brought this for you. Some Italian wine.
Camden: (taking it, examining) Amarone? 1986. Good year. Thank you, Michael. See that, Denise? Amarone. What a nice gesture.
Camden stares at Denise.
Michael: So what do you do?
Camden: I’m a surgeon. Janet, didn’t tell you?
Michael: No. Do you have a specialty in surgery?
Camden: Well, the way Americans have gotten so fat these days, I mostly perform bypasses. Mostly triple bypasses, but a few quadruple bypasses. I don’t know what to tell you, but this country has gotten so fat.
Michael: That’s true.
Camden: I thought your leg was broken. Janet said that you had a broken leg?
Michael: I had it set yesterday.
Camden: Well it must not have been broken, because you should know of all people that a set leg isn’t able to be walked on for several weeks. What happened?
Michael: Well I thought it was broken, but turns out that my leg had only popped out of the socket. They just needed to pop it back in.
Camden: Oh. So how’d it happen?
Michael: Tennis. A tennis match with my roommate.
Silence.
Camden: Well since you are so late, I’m sure the food is cold. So let’s begin.
Michael: Mrs. Windhover, what do you do?
Camden: She doesn’t work.
Michael: Oh.
Camden: Did you grow up in the area, Michael?
Michael: Yes. Yes. I did.
Camden: What do your parents do?
Denise: Camden. . .that’s enough.
Camden: I’d like to know.
Denise: The food is cold enough, you already said so.
Janet: Can I tell Michael what we’re doing?
Camden: Fine.
Janet: When I was little, I would talk at all the meals. So when it’s dinner time at our house, we eat without talking.
Michael: But you aren’t little anymore.
Camden: No, but she still is prone to talk, aren’t you?
Janet: Sometimes.
Michael: What are we having? Smells delicious.
Camden: Cook prepared shrimp scampi with prime rib.
Michael: Oh no. I have a shell fish allergy.
Camden: Then don’t eat the shellfish ding-a-ling.
Silence. The food is passed around the table.
Michael: But my allergy is severe. If the scampi has touched the ribs.
Camden: Then don’t eat. Sit there and wait. Cook. Cook.
Clara: (entering) What now?
Camden: Can you whip up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for my daughter’s boyfriend? He is allergic to shellfish.
Clara: Fine. (She exits)
Michael: Well, while I wait for my sandwich, may I talk?
Camden: Go ahead, but I’m not sure you’ll get a response.
Michael: Well, I wanted to speak with you about my proposal to your daughter.
Camden: Can’t that wait, until after dinner? Do you have no manners at all? You don’t ask the blessing in front of the women. You wait until we are having a cigar in my den.
Michael: Sorry, sir, if I don’t know your rules, but first of all, I don’t smoke cigars.
Camden: They’re smuggled from Cuba. You will have one.
Michael: Alright. Okay. I will have one, but this isn’t about asking your blessing. It’s about telling you that the wedding will be in two months.
Denise spills her water. Camden spits up his food into a napkin.
Camden: Excuse me. Why on earth-
Michael: We are in-
Camden: I’m not asking you. Janet-
Janet: We are in love. I want to move in with him.
Camden: That is no reason.
Janet: How long did you and mom know each other before getting married?
Camden: Nevermind. This is a different generation and a different circumstance. You are my daughter.
Michael: You don’t own her.
Camden: Do not tell me what I own.
Michael: Fine.
Denise: Camden. Stop it. Now. We’ll talk later.
Everyone sits in silence and eats. Clara appears in the doorway.
Camden: You may bring the sandwich to the young man.
Clara: I know already. (She brings the sandwich to Michael, sees him, and they look at each other.)
Camden: What is it?
Clara: (staring) Nothing I just got the strangest sense of Déjà vu.
Camden: Yeah, yeah. That’s nice. Please go prepare dessert.
Clara: It’s already ready.
Camden: Well make sure it’s fresh.
Clara: Okay. (She exits with her eye on Michael.)
Camden: So I have an interesting story. It appears the neighborhood has a thief in its midst.
Michael: What do you mean?
Camden: All of the carrots I grew in my garden are missing. Just gone. Uprooted and walked out of the patch. Now if it would have been a rabbit or a mole problem, I would be able to tell by the operation. . .teeth marks on remnants of carrot gore or something of that nature. .. but this job was clean. Very clean. Done by a human no doubt. A human thief.
Michael: Strange.
Camden: Very strange.
Janet: So what are you going to do about it?
Camden: I’m going to find out who did it.
Janet: How?
Camden: There are ways. Traps to set etc. etc. This steak is really good, don’t you think?
Silence.
Michael: My sandwich is very good. Tell Clara I said so.
Camden: How do you know her name?
Michael: You said it. I think you said it.
Camden: I didn’t think I had. I don’t call the help by their first names.
Denise: Maybe I said it. Who knows. Get over it.
Long Silence. Everyone eats.
Camden: So. . .Yale.
Michael: Yale.
Camden: You got accepted?
Michael: Yes.
Camden: I went there you know.
Michael: I didn’t know. You never said anything about that.
Janet: I don’t like to talk about it. It’s all he cares about.
Camden: Janet, Yale is a big deal. I could put in a word for your boyfriend.
Janet: What types of words would you say?
Camden: Oh nice things. Good things. Special things.
Michael: You would do that for me?
Camden: Yes. I could.
Michael: Wow. That’d be so nice.
Camden: What is your student ID number?
Michael: What?
Camden: I will call tomorrow and put in a good word for you. Make sure you get the special treatment. I am still a big donor for the school. I have some clout. So it’ll be no trouble. What is your student ID number?
Michael: What’s that?
Camden: The number the school gives you as your identification number. That’s how they look up the students in their system.
Michael: Oh that. I have it on my admittance letter, but I haven’t memorized it yet.
Camden: Well what’s your last name?
A cellular phone rings.
Camden: Janet, how many times-
Michael: It’s mine. Sorry. Oh shit. I mean. . .oh no. crap. Sorry for cussing.
Janet: What is it?
Michael: I’m on call tonight. I’m going to have to jet. I have to go fight a fire.
Camden: A fire, now?
Michael: Yeah. I don’t really get to pick and choose when they happen. It’s sort of an emergency.
Camden: Do you even get paid for such a venture?
Michael: We get a stipend, but I really have to go. I’m sorry.
Camden: Not as sorry as you are going to be.
Denise: Camden!
Camden: I just mean sorry in the sense he has to go fight a fire . . .now. . .of all times.
Michael: Maybe we can re-schedule?
Camden: Maybe indeed.
Janet: Dad!
Denise: You are being unfair.
Michael: Thank you for the wonderful dinner. I really am quite embarrassed that this is happening. Can we do a raincheck?
Camden: We’ll see.
Michael: (kissing Janet on the forehead) I’m really very sorry, dear.
Janet: You have to do what you have to do.
Michael: I will call you later.
Janet: You better.
Michael: It was nice to meet you. . .all of you. Good night. (He exits.)
Camden: I don’t know why I offer to be nice to youngsters who just want to take advantage of me.
Denise: He did not, Camden. He is doing good. So stop it.
Camden: Amarone, Denise? That bottle is probably 75 dollars. That’s it? That’s all to pay his respects?
Denise: Stop being such a snob.
Camden: I even offered to give him a good recommendation.
Denise: You still will.
Camden: He didn’t tell me his last name, how am I supposed to? (pause, to Janet) Please recommend Michael BlahBlahBlah for- Hell, I don’t even know what he’s studying.
Janet: I don’t think his last name is BlahBlahBlah.
Camden: I know that.
Janet: Then why’d you-
Camden: What is his last name?
Janet: (thinking) I don’t know.
Camden: You don’t know?! You are going to marry this guy in two months and you don’t know his last name? What is wrong with this world? Somebody tell me. I don’t know if I’m going to give my blessing to something like this.
Denise: They will get married with or without you, Camden. The world doesn’t revolve around you.
Camden: Well we’ll see if I don’t give a bad recommendation.
Janet: Why would you do that?
Camden: Because I can.
Janet: I could kill you, but it doesn’t mean I will. I can do a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean I should. Sometimes people are wrong.
Camden: That’s right, sometimes they are. Cook. Cook.
Clara enters.
Camden: Bring my dessert to my room. Find out his last name for me, please.
Clara: I don’t know it, sir.
Camden: Not you. My daughter. I.E. the one who is getting married to him!
Janet: Okay.
Camden: Turn off that infernal Jazz. It's giving me a headache.
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