DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Halperin (aka HaHa), wears a bowler hat
Dobbs (aka DoDo), wears an identical bowler hat
Patrone, a media boss
Pundizzo, a talking head
A Boy, eerily resembles a Monsieur Plouffe
Dobbs: Nothing to be done.
Halperin: I'm beginning to come around to that opinion. All this election season, I've tried to put it from me, saying, HaHa, be reasonable, you haven't exhausted every threadbare lead. And I resumed the struggle. Heck, I haven't even bothered deleting that Obama/Bayh bumper-sticker story I posted this evening. [He broods, musing on the struggle.] So there you are again.
Dobbs: I'm on pins and needles.
Halperin: Are you, DoDo?
Dobbs: We all are.
Halperin: Are we?
Dobbs: [vehemently] Yes!
Halperin: Yes.
[Pause.]
Halperin: Suppose we begged for information.
Dobbs: It wouldn't hurt.
Halperin: On pins and needles? Yes, it would.
[Pause.]
Halperin: Dodo!
Dobbs: Yes?
Halperin: He said the text was coming yesterday.
Dobbs: Yes?
Halperin: Yes.
[Pause.]
Dobbs: Wait, you said the text was coming yesterday.
Halperin: Yes?
Dobbs: Yes.
Halperin: Isn't that what I said? What did I say?
Dobbs: I don't remember.
[Pause. They get bored. They swap bowler hats. They swap hats again. Suddenly, the sound of a whip cracking in the distance. Pundizzo enters with a rope about his neck. The rope should be long enough so that Pundizzo is halfway across the stage by the time Patrone enters.]
Patrone: Stop! [Pundizzo does] Turn! [He does.] Back! [He backs up.] Stop! [He does.]
Halperin (to Dobbs): Is that him? Does he have the text?
Dobbs (to Halperin): I dunno. What do I know? I don't know anything. Ouch! [He has stepped on a pin. He sits on a rock to pull it out.] Ouch! [He has sat on a needle.]
Patrone: I present myself: Patrone.
Halperin: You have the text?
Patrone: What text? [Pause. Ingratiatingly,] I have a little pundizzo.
Dobbs: What's a pundizz--
Patrone: A pundizzo! Do you want to hear him think?
Halperin: What?
Patrone: Think! Think!
Dobbs: I'd rather see him dance.
Patrone: Dance? No, think!
Halperin: [Eyes lighting up] Yes, yes!
Dobbs: [Responding to an elbow from HaHa] Yes, please. Pretty please.
Patrone [a shout]: Think! Think, Pundizzo! [He places a bowler hat on Pundizzo's head]
Pundizzo [recoiling smartly, then in a rapid tone]: Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Drudge and Bowers of a veepstakes quaquaquaqua with male parts or female quaquaqua either this weekend or tonight, we who, from the heights of political apathia, cultural athambia, infotainmental aphasia, want dearly for reasons unknown but time will tell, to be so smart smart smart, not waste a lead lead lead, labors left unfinished by the Conventionalnalnalnal Wisdom or the Freakeakeakeak blogpost as known through the public labors of Drudge and Bowers, labors continuous in spite of the need for alimentation and defecation, naked in the stockinged feet of the proverbial mother's basement, in a word, for reasons unknown, in light of the labors public of Silver and Giordano, who in the plains in the mountains by the seas by the rivers running water, I resume, for reasons unknown in spite of FlightAware, in spite of DNS names, in spite of passports, in spite of demographics, in spite of reasons unknown to the public labors of Silver and Bowers, abandoned unfinished in the vetting the vetting the vetting of Hillary Clinton, in spite of all vociferations, verbal defecations, and fanciful prognostications in the works made so recently public of Anon and UserID, the names, the passports, the live direct live direct feeds, the feeds, the flight plans, the feeds.
Patrone: His hat! [Halperin quickly removes the hat from Pundizzo's head. The silence of Pundizzo. Panting of the ne'er-the-wiser.] Up, pig! [Pundizzo rises.] Back! [He backs up.] On! [He starts offstage]. Adieu!
Halperin: Adieu!
Dobbs: Adieu!
Patrone: Adieu!
Dobbs: Adieu!
Halperin: Adieu!
[The noise of Patrone's adieus slowly fade away. Silence. A boy enters.]
Boy: Sir!
Halperin: Yes? Is it you.
Boy: No, sir. I have a message from him though.
Dobbs: A message? Go on, please, go on!
Boy: He says he'll come tomorrow.
Halperin: Tomorrow?
Dobbs: Tomorrow? You've seen him though?
Boy: Yes, he's made up his mind. And he's coming tomorrow.
Halperin: He's made up his mind!
Dobbs: He's made up his mind! [Pause.] Is there anything else? [DoDo turns to see that the Boy has already left.]
Halperin: We've nothing more to do here.
Dobbs: No? Aren't there hours to fill? Pages to fill?
Halperin: Ah, DoDo, don't go on like that. Tomorrow everything will be better.
Dobbs: How do you figure?
Halperin: Did you not hear what the child said?
Dobbs: Yes. No. [Pause.] Yes. [Pause.] Then all we have to do is wait on here.
Halperin: Pity we haven't got a bit of rope.
Dobbs: Remind me to bring a bit of rope tomorrow. Have some hidden in case of Mexeecans.
Halperin: Good. Well, shall we go?
Dobbs: Yes, let's go.
[They do not move]
[RINSE. WASH. REPEAT.]