(Scene: a minimalist stage set that looks like your den, only minimalist.)
ESTRAGON: Let's go.
VLADIMIR: We can't.
ESTRAGON: Why not?
VLADIMIR: We're waiting for Fitzgerot.
ESTRAGON: (despairingly). Ah! (Pause.) You're sure it was here?
VLADIMIR: What?
ESTRAGON: That we were to hear about the indictments.
VLADIMIR: He said it would be in Washington.
ESTRAGON: Is this Washington? It looks like Muncie.
VLADIMIR: What are you insinuating? That we've come to the wrong place?
ESTRAGON: Fitzgerot should be here.
VLADIMIR: He didn't say for sure that the grand jury'd hand anything down today.
ESTRAGON: And if they don't hand them down today?
VLADIMIR: We'll wait here tomorrow.
ESTRAGON: And then the day after tomorrow.
ESTRAGON: We waited here yesterday.
VLADIMIR: And the day before that.
ESTRAGON: What did we do yesterday?
VLADIMIR: What did we do yesterday? Same as the day before. Waiting for Fitzgerot, picking over every article and blog post, trying to read between the lines that "indictments are now inevitable," trying to tease out evidence that indictments will definitely be handed down and that we're not just a couple of clowns in an existentialist farce that has no cathartic moment, no conclusion...
ESTRAGON: Oh, God!
VLADIMIR: All the same...that Raw Story article...
ESTRAGON: You're sure it was today?
VLADIMIR: What?
ESTRAGON: That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR: He said Wednesday. (Pause.) I think.
ESTRAGON: You think.
VLADIMIR: I must have made a note of it. (He fumbles in his pockets, bursting with miscellaneous rubbish.)
ESTRAGON: (very insidious). But what Wednesday? And is it Wednesday? Is it not rather Thursday? (Pause.) Or Monday? (Pause.) Or Friday?
VLADIMIR: (looking wildly about him, as though the date was inscribed in the landscape). What'll we do?
ESTRAGON: If he came yesterday and we weren't here you may be sure he won't come again today.
VLADIMIR: But you say we were here yesterday.
ESTRAGON: Yesterday...now I remember it. I had a dream.
VLADIMIR: Don't tell me!
ESTRAGON: I dreamt that--
VLADIMIR: DON'T TELL ME!
ESTRAGON: It's not nice of you, Didi. Who am I to tell my dreams to if I can't tell them to you?
VLADIMIR: Oh, all right. Tell me your precious dream.
ESTRAGON: (Portentously.) I dreamed...that Karl Rove and Scooter Libby were indicted!
VLADIMIR: Eh...so what. Everybody has had that dream. I'VE had that dream. A recurring dream.
ESTRAGON: No, but, there was more, Didi. Much more. I dreamed that John Bolton was indicted too, and had to step down as Ambassador to the U.N.! Bolton, Didi!
VLADIMIR: All right, so you dreamed John Bolton was indicted.
ESTRAGON: Yes...I remember seeing him in handcuffs.
VLADIMIR: Ah, stop it! A lot of people have seen him in handcuffs, I'll bet. Everybody knows he's into all that kinky stuff. That doesn't mean he'll be indicted.
ESTRAGON: And then...and then...I dreamed that Steven Hadley and Mary Matalin were indicted, too. Hadley, Didi!
VLADIMIR: Hadley, eh, that's something, anyway. The National Security Advisor! Matalin, ptui. Who else?
ESTRAGON: (A pause.) Cheney.
VLADIMIR: STOP IT!
ESTRAGON: Vladimir, I tell you. I saw Cheney being frog-marched in my dream! It was clear as day. His lip was curled in a cold sneer the way you always see him in those photos. It was horrible, horrible.
VLADIMIR: Stop it now, Gogo. This is 'way too Grand Guignol, even for this investigation. I'll settle for Rove and Libby....and Bolton. And...Hadley. Sure. But don't even think about Cheney. He's bad luck.
ESTRAGON: I say there's an even chance. Or nearly.
VLADIMIR: Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.
ESTRAGON: It's not how I feel, it's what's will be. Sometime. Sooner or later. Maybe.
VLADIMIR: Well? But what do we do in the meantime?
ESTRAGON: Don't let's do anything except read blog posts. It's safer.
VLADIMIR: Let's wait and see what Fitzgerot says.
ESTRAGON: Who?
VLADIMIR: Fitzgerot.
ESTRAGON: Good idea.
VLADIMIR: Let's wait till we know exactly how things stand.
ESTRAGON: Good idea.
VLADIMIR: Good, then that settles it.
ESTRAGON: Well, then, let's go.
VLADIMIR: We can't.
ESTRAGON: Why not?
VLADIMIR: We're waiting for Fitzgerot.
ESTRAGON: (despairingly). Ah!