Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mamma's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' so Sad by Arthur Kopit
[Madame Rosepettle has brought the Commodore (Mr. Roseabove) to her "lavish hotel suite somewhere in the Caribbean". When she talks about her husband, she means the stuffed corpse of her husband that she keeps in the closet. Keep in mind that this is an absurdist play, it'll help. Also, I wouldn't use this as an audition piece, but I'm including it on here in case someone finds a use for it.]
Madame Rosepettle:
Now you don't really want to leave-do you, Commodore? After all, the night is still so young-and you haven't even seen my husband yet. Besides, there's a little story I still must tell you. A bedtime story. A fairy-tale fullof handsome princes and enchanted maidens; full of love and joy and music; tenderness and charm. It's my very favortie story, you see. And I never leave a place without telling it to at least one perso. So please, Commodore, won't you stay? ...Just for a little while? [He stares at her in horror. He tries once more to push his chair back. But the chair does not more. He sinks down into it weakly. She leans across the table and tenderly touches his hand.] Good. I knew you'd see it my way. It would have been such a shame if you'd had to leave. For you see, Commodore, we are, in a way, united. We share something in common-you and I. We share desire. For you desire me, with love in your heart. While I, my dear Commodore-desire your heart. [She smiles sweetly and sips some more champagne.] How simple it all is, in the end. [She rises slowly from her chair and walks over to him. She runs her hands lovingly through his hai and down the back of his neck. The light on hte table dims slightly. She walks slowly away. A spot of light follows her as she goes. Light on the table fades more. The COMMODORE sits, motionless.] His name was Albers Edward Robinson Rosepettle III. How strange and sad he was. All the others who had come to see me had been tall, but he was short. They had been rich, while he was poor. The others had been handsome but Albert, poor Albert, he was as ugly as a humid day-[She laughs sadly, distantly.] and jsut about as wet, too. Oh, he was a fat bundle of sweat, Mr. Roseabove. He was nothing but one torrent of perspiration. Yes, he was round and wet and hideous and I never could figure out how he ever got such a name as Albert Edward Robinson Rosepettle III. Oh, I must have been very susceptible indeed to have married Albert. I was twenty-eight and that is a susceptible year in a woman's life. And of course I was a virgin, but still I-Oh, stop blushing, Mr. Roseabove. I'm not lying. It's all true. Part of the cause of my condition, I will admit, was due to the fact that I still hadn't gone out with a man. But I am certain, Mr. Roseabove, I am certain that despite your naughty glances my virtue would have remained unsoiled, no matter what. Oh, I had spoken to men. (Their voices are gruff.) And in crowded streets I had often brushed against them. (Their bodies, I found, are tough and bony.) I had observed their ways and habits, Mr. Roseabove. Even at that tender age I had the foresight to realize I must know what I was up against.So I watched them huddle in hallways, talking in nervous whispers and laughing when little girls passed by. I watched their hands in crowded streets. And then, one night, when I was walking home I saw a man standing in a window. I saw him taking his contact lenses out and his hearing aid out of his ear. I saw him take his teeth out of his thin-lipped mouth and drop them into a smiling glass of water. I saw him lift his snow white hair off his wrinkled, white head and place it on a gnarled, wooden hat tree. And then I saw him take his clothes off. And when he was done and didn't move but stood and stared at a full legnth mirror whose glass he had covered with towels, then I went home and wept. And so one day I bolted the door to my room. I locked myself inside, bought a small revolver just in case, then sat at my window and watched what went on below. It was not a pretty sight. Some men came up to see me. They came and knocked. I did not let them in.
"Hello in there," they said.
"Hello in there,
My name is Steven.
Steven S. (for Steven) Steven.
One is odd
But two is even.
I know you're not
So I'm not leavin'."
Or something like that. [short pause] But they all soon left anyway. I think they caught the scent of a younger woman down the hall.... And so I listened to the constant sound of feet disappearing down the stairs. I watched a world walk by my window; a wold of lechery and lies and greed. I watched a world walk by and I decided not to leave my room until this world came to me, exactly as I wanted it. One day Albert came toddling up the stairs. He waddled over to my room, scratched on the door and said, in a frail and very frightened voice, "Will you please marry me?" And so I did. It was as simple as that. [Pause. Then distantly] I still wonder why I did it, though. I still wonder why. [Short pause. Then, with a laugh of resignation.] I don't really know why. I guess it just seemed like the right thing to do. Maybe it's because he was the first one who ever asked me. No, that's not right. -Perhaps it's because he was so ugly and fat; so unlike everything I'd ever heard a husband should be. No, that doesn't make much sense, either.-Perhaps it's-yet, perhaps it's because one look at Albert's round, sad face and I knew he could be mine--that no matter where he went, or whom he saw, or what he did, Albert would be mine, my husband, my lover, my own--mine to love; to live with:--mine to kill. [Short pause] And so we were wed. That night I went to bed with a man for the first time in my life. The next morning I picked up my mattress and moved myself to another room. Not that there was something wrong with Albert. Oh, no! He was quite the picture of health. His pudgy, pink flesh bouncing with glee. Oh, how easily man is satisfied. How easily his porous body saturated with "fun". All he asks is a little sex and a little food and there he is, asleep with a smile, and snoring. Never the slightest regard for you, lying in bed next to him, your eyes open wide. No, he stretches his legs and kicks you in the shins; stretches his arms and smacks you in the eye. Oh, how noble, how magical, how marvelous is love. So you see, Mr. Roseabove, I had to leave his room. For as long as I stayed there I was not safe. After all, we'd only met the day before and I knew far too little about him. But now that we were married I had time to find out more. A few of the things I wanted to know were" what had he done before we'd ever met, what did he still want to do. what was he doing about it? What did he dream about when he slept? What did he think about when he stared out the window?... What did he think about when I wasn't near? These were the things that concerned me most. And so I began to watch him closely. My plan worked best at night, for that was when he slept-I would listen at my door until I heard his door close. Then I'd tiptoe out and watch him through his keyhole. When his lights went out I'd open up his door and creep across the floor to his bed, and then I'd listen more. My ear became a stethoscope that recorded the fluctuations of his dream life. For I was waiting for him to speak; waiting for the slightest word that might betray his sleeping, secret thoughts.... But, no, Albert only snored and smiled and slept on and on. And that, Mr. Roseabove, is how I spent my nights!-- next to him; my husband, my "Love". I never left his side, never took my eyes from his sleeping face. I dare you to find me a wife wh's as devoted as that. [She laughs. Short pause.] A month later I found that I was pregnant. It had happened that first horrible night. How like Albert to do something like that. I fancy he knew it was going to happen all the time, too. I do believe he planned it that way. One night, one shot, one chance in a lifetime and bham! you've had it. It takes an imaginative man to miss. It takes someone like Albert to do something like that. But yet, I never let on. Oh, no. Let him think I'm simply getting fat, I said. And that's the way I did it, too. I, nonchalantly putting on weight; Albert nonchalantly watching my belly grow. If he know what was happening to me he never let me know it. He was as silent as before. [Pause.] Twelve months later my son was born. He was so overdue, when he came out he was already teething. He bit the index finger off the poor doctor's hand and snapped at the nurse till she fainted. I took him home and put him in a cage in the darkest corner of my room.
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