Act I
The apartment of Lenny Krupps, a young man with a dream. Although Lenny is beyond college his disheveled apartment resembles a college dorm room with papers, clothing, kitchen utensils and assorted music-a-bellia. Prominent are a small bed, a computer, and electric keyboard. As the lights come up, nothing moves. A pile of blankets lies heaped upon the bed. There are two doors: one to the exterior and one to the bathroom.
(After a few moments there’s a knock at the door, then the door shakes, then a sliver of cardboard slides through the doorjamb and the door unlocks. Patty enters. She’s Lenny’s sister, a pert and with-it young girl full of determination. She looks around the room, then. . .)
PATTY: Lenny? (looks some more) Lenny? You in the bathroom? (knocking on the bathroom door) Lenny are you in there? (looks around then plops down on the bed as she says. .) Darn it, Lenny!
LENNY: (suddenly raising up out of bed underneath her in sweatpants and t-shirt, having been a part of the blankets) What? What you doing? (jumps out of bed) I’m not dressed! Am I late? Who are you?
PATTY: (a long beat, then) I’m your sister, Lenny.
LENNY: Oh.
PATTY: Patty. We grew up together. . same mother. . dad. . …toothbrush.
LENNY: You scared me. How’d you get in?
PATTY: I have a key.
LENNY: You do?
PATTY: Sorta. This place is dump.
LENNY: I know.
PATTY: You look awful.
LENNY: I’ve been asleep.
PATTY: I know.
LENNY: What time is it?
PATTY: Almost nine o’clock.
LENNY: Nine o’clock! It can’t be nine o’clock. (rummaging through papers) The song has to be done by nine o’clock. Why didn’t you tell me?
PATTY: Tell you what?
LENNY: That it’s nine o’clock.
PATTY: I just. . .
LENNY: Great. Oh this is just great. I’m in trouble. I’m in big trouble. Where’d I put it?
PATTY: Put what?
LENNY: Mr. Carter.
PATTY: You got a man in here?
LENNY: Mr. Carter! Mr. Carter’s here somewhere! I gotta find him.
PATTY: Okay. Whatever. (shouting) Hey Mr. Carter! You in here? You tried the bathroom?
LENNY: He can’t hear you. He’s dead.
PATTY: (a long beat, then) You got a dead man in your bathroom.
LENNY: I don’t think I left him in the bathroom.
PATTY: But he’s dead.
LENNY: Yeah. Mr. Carter.
PATTY: You’re creeping me out, Lenny.
LENNY: It’s my best account, Patty.
PATTY: The funeral home thing again?
LENNY: Yeah. I gotta find Mr. Carter.
PATTY: Lenny, this is the dumbest job you ever got. . .writing music for people’s funerals. So. . .I mean. . .they send you the dead person’s life story and you write a song about the corpse?
LENNY: It’s money, Patty. They call it “The Final Refrain.”
PATTY: Granny’s Last Tango.
LENNY: Mrs. Skinner says it’s increased sales fifty percent. It’s the hottest thing in the funeral business. Patty. (seeing where she’s sitting) Patty! Get up! (she jumps up) You sat on Mr. Carter! (grabbing a flash drive from where she’s been sitting)
PATTY: I didn’t even feel him.
LENNY: That’s because he’s dead. Man, I hope I’m not too late.
PATTY: He can’t be late. You told me he was dead.
LENNY: The funeral’s at ten.
PATTY: This is your idea of being a hit songwriter?
LENNY: Money. It pays the bills ‘til I get my first hit.
PATTY: Writing songs about dead people.
LENNY: (as he inserts the flash drive into this computer and begins to type) Whatever it takes.
PATTY: I can’t believe this. Play me Mr. Carter’s song.
LENNY: I don’t have time. I gotta send this off.
PATTY: Who was Mr. Carter?
LENNY: I don’t know these people, Patty. I just read their obituaries and write their song. He was a plumber.
PATTY: Oh come on, Lenny. I gotta hear this.
LENNY: I said I don’t have time.
PATTY: (picking up a paper) This it?
LENNY: Those are the lyrics, yeah.
PATTY: (reading) “As his last drop of water fell gently on the sand, Bob clutched his drain plug in his hand. . . .Oh dear God. .
LENNY: Patty!
PATTY: “Was loved by all, by all was missed. . . His pipe wrench took one final twist. . .” You’re not serious.
LENNY: I’m broke.
PATTY: (reading) “But sometimes the noblest of drains must stop. . And the faucet of fate drips its last drop.” This is hilarious!
LENNY: Stop it! I mean. . .you’ve got to hear it with the music. Of course it sounds silly all by itself.
PATTY: Lenny, I’m not making fun of you. Really. Ever since you were a kid you wanted to write music. I admire that. . .really! But you’ve been at it now . . . what?. . .
LENNY: Five years.
PATTY: Five years. . . .and how many contracts?
LENNY: Three. . sorta . . a few commercials. . . Heavenly Acres Funeral Parlor and The Whoopee Doopee Show.
PATTY: That TV kids’ show?
LENNY: Yeah. Miss Francis and her Whoopee Doopee Show. This week we’re working on the presidents of the United States. Nothing rhymes with James A. Garfield. (pressing a computer key) Okay. Send. Whoa! Send! (pushing again and again) Send, damn it!
PATTY: Language!
LENNY: The Internet’s down! What time is it?
PATTY: 9:05. Fifty-five minutes and Mr. Carter gets unclogged and flushed away to glory.
LENNY: (frantically pushing the keys) Send! Send! Send!
PATTY: Forget it, Lenny. Come on, we’ll deliver it in person.
LENNY: That’s a two-hour drive to the funeral home. And why aren’t you at work?
PATTY: Because I knew you’d forget to wake up.
LENNY: Patty, don’t screw around and lose your job because of me.
PATTY: (grabbing the flash drive out of his computer) Gimme that!
LENNY: What’re you doing?
PATTY: (heading for the door) I’ll run down the block and keep knocking on doors ‘til I find a connection.
LENNY: We don’t have time!
PATTY: Got another idea? (Lenny is speechless) (to the flash drive) Come on, Mr. Carter, we can do this, kid. “’Til the faucet of life has breathed its last drop!”
LENNY: Patty!
PATTY: See ya, Mozart! (and she’s gone out the door)
LENNY: (in disgust) Ah! (pressing) Send! Send! (his phone buzzes) Yeah? Mrs. Skinner. I know . . . I know. The Internet’s down, Mrs. Skinner. I know. . .the funeral’s going start. I’ll get it to you, I promise. I’ve uh. . .look, I’ve just sent my secretary down the street looking for a hookup. . . you’ll have it, I promise. No, I can’t send it over the phone. I didn’t pay for that much data. Stall, okay? I don’t know. . . sing an extra hymn or something. He’s atheist? Do you have any accordion music?
MRS. BOUDREAU: (pounding on the door, offstage) Benny! Benny, you in there?
LENNY: Oh God. I gotta go. It’ll be there any minute, Mrs. Skinner, I promise! (runs to lock his door)
MRS. BOUDREAU: Benny! It’s your landlady! (jiggles the locked door) (Lenny runs into the bathroom.) Benny, unlock the stupid door! (again, a piece of cardboard is seen coming through the door latch and the door opens to reveal Mrs. Boudreau, a frumpy, unkempt wreck of a woman, cigarette dangling from her mouth. She looks around the room.) Hey Benny! I know you’re in here! (looks through his things) Musicians. (runs her finger through the dust on his desk) Sloppy musicians. (a bump is heard in the bathroom . . she moves to the bathroom door and just as she’s about to open it)
LENNY: (opening the door, a towel around him) Mrs. Boudreau!
MRS. BOUDREAU: (clutching her heart) Oh geesh. Don’t do that kid. You tryin’ to kill me?
LENNY: Mrs. Boudreau, I’m naked.
MRS. BOUDREAU: If that’s an offer, forget it. I still want the rent.
LENNY: My rent?
MRS. BOUDREAU: No, the Pope’s. Two months . . . you’re two months over. I need my money, Benny.
LENNY: And my name’s Lenny.
MRS. BOUDREAU: Benny, Lenny, whatever. Just so it’s on my check. I got bills. Did I tell you I got bills? Mrs. Stock’s dog. You know Mrs. Stock’s dog? Petey pees. Petey pees everywhere. You priced carpet lately?
LENNY: Mrs. Boudreau, I . . .
MRS. BOUDREAU: ‘Course you don’t. You write music. My first husband was a musician. A deadbeat. Who needs an oboe player? Swan Lake, once a year, then unemployment. And he pees all over the place.
LENNY: Your husband?
MRS. BOUDREAU: Petey! Every time he hears a loud noise, Petey pees. A door slams. . Whiz! The garbage man slams down a can. . .Whiz! Whiz! Whiz! Mr. Steinmetz the crazy German up in 3B? The Lutheran with the adenoid condition? Every time he snores Petey lets loose. The dog’s like a fire hose! You seen those new collapsible garden hoses? That’s Petey. He’s under pressure. Last night. . .did I tell you about last night?
LENNY: I . .
MRS. BOUDREAU: Last night Mrs. Cottingham in 4A was watchin’ “The Alamo”. . . that’s John Wayne. . . I love John Wayne. . .walked funny, but what an actor. . . real name was Marion Morrison . . . no wonder he changed it. I had uncle that changed his name, but he changed it to Pauline and that was a whole other story. .
LENNY: Mrs. Boudreau. . .
MRS. BOUDREAU: So John Wayne was standin’ on top of the Alamo with both guns blazin’ away then this Mexican general raises his rifle and Pow! John falls off the wall and Petey shoots a stream right across the room and the door was open. . . now I got this streak right across the carpet in the hallway. So where’s your rent?
LENNY: (a long beat as he tries to digest all this) Look, Mrs. Boudreau, I’ll have it. . . I promise you. I sent a great new song to Billy Joel just last week and he’s going to get back to me.
MRS. BOUDREAU: He already did.
LENNY: What?
MRS. BOUDREAU: (pulls a letter out of her bra) He turned you down.
LENNY: That’s my mail?
MRS. BOUDREAU: (handing it to him) Personal delivery.
LENNY: You opened it?
MRS. BOUDREAU: It fell open. Could of been a bomb. Can’t be too careful.
LENNY: You read my mail.
MRS. BOUDREAU: I thought it was a check. He said you had talent.
LENNY: He did?
MRS. BOUDREAU: It was a form letter. Didn’t even sign it. Probably didn’t listen to it. Monday.
LENNY: What?
MRS. BOUDREAU: The rent. You got ‘til Monday.
LENNY: But what if I . . . ?
MRS. BOUDREAU: Write a song about it. Homeless, out of money, down on your luck. . . send it to Hank Williams.
LENNY: Look, I’m trying. Honest.
MRS. BOUDREAU: Yeah. Me too. (opens the door to exit, looks down, gasps, then) Oh damn it, Petey! (she exits)
LENNY: (entering the room, taking off his towel disguise) Great. That’s just great. (on the phone) Yeah? Miss Francis! I know. . I know. . . Look, do I have to come up with a song for every U.S. President? It’s just a children’s TV show. They’ll never know if I skip a few. . .look, I can jump right from Lincoln to Obama. That almost rhymes. Uh . . . Miss Francis? I need a favor. Nothing big. . . .just. . .look, I need an advance on next month’s check. (a beat, then) What? The Be Happy jingle? What’s that got to do with my paycheck? Okay! Okay! You want me to sing it? Right now? (he moves to the piano) Why do you want to hear that song? I wrote it a year ago. Alright . . . alright. . .let me think how it goes. (singing into the phone as he plays)
The grass is always greener in the yard across the street. And you act like such a wiener to everyone you meet. You always wish for something better. . . You always wish you had a lot. . . But if you want to keep on smiling, then be happy with what you’ve got. Be happy you’re livin’. . . . Be happy you’re free. . . Take a breath and be thankful. . Be happy like me!
Okay, Miss Francis. I get the message. Yeah. I know. . .be happy. Millard Fillmore by tomorrow. (hangs up) Great.
PATTY: (bursting into the room) Don’t kill me!
LENNY: What’re you talking about?
PATTY: Don’t kill me, Lenny!
LENNY: Okay! Okay! I won’t kill you. Now why won’t I kill you?
PATTY: The song. . .
LENNY: Yeah?
PATTY: Okay, I ran down Third Avenue and I was knocking on every door . . . even Starbucks didn’t have a connection and McDonalds and Bed, Bath and Beyond and so I cut over to Monroe and I saw the cable truck and asked how long before the Internet was up and they said they didn’t know so I cut through that alley behind Dunkin’ Donuts and when I came out on Fourth Street. . .oh Lenny, I’m so sorry!
LENNY: What? You’re sorry about what?
PATTY: Mrs. Cottingham was walking that stupid dog of hers. .
LENNY: Petey?
PATTY: The one that leaks. . .and she had him on a leash and I couldn’t stop and so I went to jump over the leash and I tripped and. .
LENNY: You okay?
PATTY: Yeah. . yeah. . but I dropped the flash drive. . . it went down this drain in the sidewalk and I tried to get it but the water was running and. . . oh Lenny, I’m so sorry. (she collapses into his arms, sobbing)
LENNY: The flash drive is gone?
PATTY: Yes!
LENNY: Damn it, Petey!
PATTY: Damn it, Petey!
LENNY: (his phone has buzzed) (reaching awkwardly to get his phone as he continues to hug Patty) Yeah? Mrs. Skinner. . yeah. . .yeah, I know. A half hour. It’s on the way. . .I promise. Stall. . . (covering the phone, to Patty) How do you stall a funeral?
PATTY: CPR?
LENNY: Funny. (back into the phone) It’s coming. I promise. (clicks the phone off) I promise that I’m going to lose the best-paying job I’ve got.
PATTY: I’m sorry, Lenny. It’s still on your computer, right?
LENNY: Yeah. . but no connection. Great. . .I lose this and I’m down to Miss Francis’s Whoopee Doopee kids show and a few stupid commercial jingles.
PATTY: (picking up a paper) What’s this?
LENNY: (taking the paper from her) Gimme that.
PATTY: What’s the matter?
LENNY: It’s not finished.
PATTY: Come on, Lenny. I’m your sister. Let me see it. (grabs it from him. . .reads a bit then laughs) What is this?
LENNY: A commercial. Come on, we gotta figure out a way to . . .
PATTY: (reading) “He’s sneaky and he’s slimy, he’s really, really grimy. .and you’re willin’ he needs killin’, he’s a dirty little rat. . . .”
LENNY: It’s a commercial for rat poison. (he makes another grab at it, but Patty moves out of his way and continues reading)
PATTY: “When he snuck around the corner, you knew he was a goner, I swear upon my honor, he’s just a dirty rat!” This is beautiful, Lenny!
LENNY: Very funny.
PATTY: Play it for me.
LENNY: No!
PATTY: Please!
LENNY: Patty, I’ve got to get this Internet working!
PATTY: Come on, big guy. It’ll take your mind off of things until the cable gets fixed. (moving him) Look, you sit here and sing it to me and I’ll sit at your computer and keeping pushing Send, Send, Send until it goes through. Please? Just for me?
LENNY: This is stupid.
PATTY: I know. That’s why I love it.
LENNY: I feel stupid.
PATTY: I know. That’s why I love you. Some people are stupid stupid, but you’re like funny stupid. (as she sits at his computer and starts pressing buttons) Play, Brother! Play!
LENNY: (sighs then plays and sings) He’s sneaky and he’s slimy, he’s really, really grimy. .and you’re willin’ he needs killin’, he’s a dirty little rat. . . When he snuck around the corner, you knew he was a goner, I swear upon my honor, he’s just a dirty rat! He’s so stinky. . . he’s so fat. . . And we’re so glad he’s finally where he’s at! So sing out halleluiah! He never got ahead! We’re so glad the rat is finally dead!
PATTY: (standing and clapping) Encore! Encore!
LENNY: Please, Patty!
PATTY: (kissing him on the forehead) Keep working, Mozart. I’ll run down and ask the repairman how long it’ll be.
LENNY: Aren’t you supposed to be at work?
PATTY: Aren’t you supposed to be making it big in the music business? I called Trent to fill in for me.
LENNY: Trent? That jerk?
PATTY: That jerk is my boyfriend, Lenny.
LENNY: He’s jerk.
PATTY: He’s an actor.
LENNY: Same thing.
PATTY: Lenny!
LENNY: One shampoo commercial. . .the guy’s only had one acting job in his life and he acts like he’s a star.
PATTY: And you’ve sold how many songs to Billy Joel?
LENNY: Just leave.
PATTY: That’s sweet. (she exits)
LENNY: I’m dead. Like a rat. (moves to the door and locks it) I wish they’d sent me samples of the poison. “So sing out halleluiah! He never got ahead! We’re so glad. . .” (his phone buzzes) Yeah? Mrs. Boudreau, you can’t shut off my power. It’s against the law. No, you can’t shut off my water! Look, as soon as I get this song sent to the funeral home I . . . Mrs. Boudreau? Hello? (clicks off) Damn. Think. I’ve got to think. (his phone buzzes again) Yeah? Patty! Talk to me Patty! Any minute? What’s that mean? I’m running out of minutes, Patty! Mr. Carter’s about to go into the ground! Well tell them to hurry! A man’s death depends on it! (a knock at the door) Go away! I’m not home!
MISS FRANCIS: (a cultivated voice, offstage) Leonard? I can hear you, Leonard! I know you’re in there!
LENNY: (to himself) Oh no. (shouting) He’s not here, Miss Francis! Leonard died this morning!
MISS FRANCIS: Unlock the door, Leonard.
LENNY: I can’t it’s stuck.
MISS FRANCIS: (as again a stick or piece of cardboard is seen wedging its way in to unlock the door) Oh you are such a kidder, Leonard! That’s why I love you so much! Just kid, kid…(and the door opens) . . . Darling!
LENNY: Hi, Miss Francis.
MISS FRANCIS: (Miss Francis is so overly sweet that just coming near her is running the risk of diabetes. She’s dressed in an over-gaudy fashion with enough flowers and bows to resemble and Macy’s Parade float and tends to float rather than walk.) (moving to give him a breath-taking hug) Leonard, darling! How is my boy! This is where you live? It’s . . .uh . . . bohemian décor, yes?
LENNY: Uh. . .
MISS FRANCIS: Avant-garde.
LENNY: Well. . .
MISS FRANCIS: Nonconventional.
LENNY: I . . .
MISS FRANCIS: A dump.
LENNY: Yes.
MISS FRANCIS: Oh, the starving young artist. I love it! Now where’s my music?
LENNY: Your music?
MISS FRANCIS: Oh silly boy! Don’t be coy with me! You know that Miss Francis starts taping her show on Calvin Coolidge this afternoon.
LENNY: Calvin Coolidge? You told me it was Garfield.
MISS FRANCIS: I found out somebody shot him. Too depressing for my kiddies. And my little ones think Garfield is a dog. Do you have any tea? Something organic? Whole leaf preferably? I can’t think without tea. This is your apartment, right? I mean, it’s not a warehouse or anything? Oh how I love the alternative lifestyle! It reminds me of my days before money. Now let me hear what you’ve written.
LENNY: I . . . I don’t have it done yet, Miss Francis. I will, I promise you. The Internet is down, the rat poison is almost done and Mr. Carter is dead.
MISS FRANCIS: (a long stare, then) I have no idea what the hell you just said.
LENNY: I’m sorry. It’s been a confusing morning.
MISS FRANCIS: You know there are other songwriters.
LENNY: I’ll have it to you. . . I promise. Don’t fire me, Miss Francis.
MISS FRANCIS: (moving to him, stroking his hair) You know that Miss Francis is the queen of children’s television . . .that she got that way by being kind and understanding and encouraging . . .
LENNY: Yes, ma’am.
MISS FRANCIS: (holding his cheeks in her hands). . .that millions of little children look to her on how to handle their daily little problems. . .washing their hands, making their beds . . . flushing when they’re done.
LENNY: Yes, ma’am.
MISS FRANCIS: (suddenly grabbing his hair, jerking his head back and growling) And that she can rip your heart out and eat it for breakfast if you try to screw with her, kid! I’ve eaten guys like you for breakfast! (turns and moves to the door, then just before she exits, she turns, smiles and sings . . . )
Be happy you’re livin’. . . . Be happy you’re free. . . Take a breath and be thankful. . Be happy like me!
(and she is gone)
LENNY: (looks around his room, lost. . .confused. He walks over and picks up a framed picture) Well Mom, whatta you think of your little boy today? Big success, huh? Aren’t you glad you spent all that money on piano lessons so Lenny could write songs about dead plumbers and presidents? (Puts the picture on his piano, sits, sighs…then sings. . .) Hurray for Calvin Coolidge . . Nothing rhymes with Coolidge . . Foolish…..ghoulish….sewage. Damn! (a long beat, then laughs a little to himself) I remember. . . I’d sit there looking at my piano lesson. . . sharps. . . I’ve always hated sharps. . .and I’d start to play and . . .and then I’d just stop. I didn’t want to do it anymore. And I’d go to get up and leave the room and then this hand. . .your hand. . .It’d like come out of nowhere and land on my shoulder. And sometimes. . .sometimes you wouldn’t even say anything. . . .you’d just stand behind me with that hand on my shoulder. . then you’d lean over me and you’d take my hands (as he raises his hands in front of him) and you’d gently put them down on the keys. . . and you’d stand right behind me. . with that hand. . .that hand. .
Song about “Your hand on my shoulder”
MRS. BOUDREAU: (knocking at the door) Bennie! Bennie, open this door!
LENNY: Oh God.
MRS. BOUDREAU: I have the police with me, Bennie!
LENNY: The police?
MRS. BOUDREAU: It’s the SWAT team, Bennie. They have tasers!
LENNY: Tasers! (moving to the door) I’m opening . . . I’m opening the door, Mrs. Boudreau! Don’t shoot! (he jerks the door open, then jumps back, his hands in the air)
MRS. BOUDREAU: (entering, holding a squirt gun in her hands) Stick ‘em up. (she squirts him in the chest)
LENNY: (wiping at himself) What’re you doing?
MRS. BOUDREAU: I’m arresting you for not paying your rent.
LENNY: You carry a squirt gun around with you? (sniffing & sputtering) What is that stuff?
MRS. BOUDREAU: Mr. Clean. Got ammonia.
LENNY: You’re cleaning windows with a squirt gun?
MRS. BOUDREAU: It’s for Petey. The little sucker pops his Little Oboe out again and I’m gonna clean his reeds.
LENNY: You shoot dogs with ammonia?
MRS. BOUDREAU: You want to clean my carpets? It won’t kill him but it’ll teach him keep his little burrito inside his poncho when he’s in my house. So am I gonna get my money on Monday?
LENNY: Mrs. Boudreau, I sent this great new song to Elton John. If he buys it you’ll have the rent and I get you a whole case of Mr. Clean.
MRS. BOUDREAU: (pulling an envelope from her nether regions) He sent you this.
LENNY: You opened my mail again?
MRS. BOUDREAU: (handing him the opened letter) This one’s more personal.
LENNY: (opening the envelope) Really?
MRS. BOUDREAU: Yeah. .
LENNY & MRS. BOUDREAU: (reading the letter as Mrs. Boudreau recites it along with him) “To Whom It May Concern. . . .”
MRS. BOUDREAU: Like you been friends for years.
LENNY: (reading) “Thank you for your kind submission. . .”
MRS. BOUDREAU: Gay men are always polite.
LENNY: Please! “You obviously have great talent, but I receive so many submissions. . .”
MRS. BOUDREAU: He didn’t even listen to it.
LENNY: “ . . . that it is impossible to answer every songwriter personally. . .” He called me a songwriter!
MRS. BOUDREAU: They don’t have a name for “deadbeat” in England.
LENNY: But look! It is personal! Down here at the bottom! Handwriting! “p.s. Your rent is due Monday.” (looks at Mrs. Boudreau)
MRS. BOUDREAU: What can I say? The man is psychic. (putting the water pistol under his chin, in a thick Mexican accent) Monday, senor. . .or my leettle friend here. . .he soak your tamale. (she moves to the door)
LENNY: But Mrs. Boudreau. . .
MRS. BOUDREAU: Adios, Chump! (and she is gone)
LENNY: Why did I even get up this morning? (his cell rings) Mrs. Skinner? How long? No! No! I’ll have it to you, I promise! Move the song to the end of the funeral. I promise, it’ll be a great climax! I’m serious. . . you should be getting Mr. Carter’s song any second now. It’s practically there. .
PATTY: (knocking on the door) Lenny!
LENNY: Can you stretch it? No, not Mr. Carter. The funeral service. Read another Psalm. Which one? All of them! Gotta go!
PATTY: (from outside the door) Lenny!
LENNY: (pushing a key on his keyboard) Send! Send! Send!
PATTY: Lenny, let me in!
LENNY: Just a minute, Patty! (we see the piece of cardboard working its way through the door) Come on, darn it!
PATTY: (bursting in) Lenny!
LENNY: (running to her, grabbing her) Tell me you did it, Patty. Tell me it worked.
PATTY: It worked!
LENNY: What?
PATTY: I’m lying.
LENNY: Patty!
PATTY: Sorry. I just wanted to see you smile.
LENNY: This is it, Patty. I mean it. I give up.
PATTY: Don’t talk that way.
LENNY: I love you, Patty. . . you’re the only cheerleader I’ve got, but . .
PATTY: (putting her arms on his shoulder) Lenny, you can do this. You’ve got what it . . . (sniffs) . . .What’s that smell?
LENNY: Ammonia.
PATTY: Don’t do it, Lenny!
LENNY: Patty. .
PATTY: Don’t! Come out of it, kid! (slaps him)
LENNY: That hurt.
PATTY: You can’t end it like this! (frantically tearing the room apart) Where is it? Where’d you put it, Lenny?
LENNY: Put what?
PATTY: The poison? Did you swallow it? (grabbing him by the throat) Cough it up! Cough it up, Lenny!
LENNY: Patty, it’s not. .
PATTY: Shut up! The Heimlich! The Heimlich maneuver! Get down on the floor!
LENNY: If you’d just let me. . .
PATTY: Down! (and she throws him onto his back and begins pumping on his chest) One, two, three! (slams into his chest) One, two, three! (slams his chest again)
LENNY: Patty, that’s CPR!
PATTY: Oh. Then gag! (sticks her finger into his throat) You’ve got to gag, Lenny!
LENNY: (finally wrenching himself away) Stop it! I didn’t swallow ammonia!
PATTY: You didn’t swallow it? An enema? Oh Lenny! (grabbing him and pulling him toward his bathroom) You’ve got to . .
LENNY: No! (she stops) I’ve been squirted.
PATTY: Squirted? Petey’s in here?
LENNY: Squirted. Mrs. Boudreau attacked me with her squirt gun.
PATTY: I think you need a rest.
LENNY: She’s trying to kill Petey.
PATTY: She mistook you for Petey?
LENNY: Forget it. No luck with the flash drive?
PATTY: They don’t know when it’ll be fixed.
LENNY: I’m dead.
PATTY: You’re not giving up, brother! Somebody’s gonna latch onto one of your songs and. . (he hands her the most recent letter) . . .Wow! Elton John!
LENNY: He loved it.
PATTY: (scanning the letter) He didn’t say he hated it.
LENNY: He didn’t even listen to it, Patty.
PATTY: Why does he want you to pay your rent?
LENNY: (grabbing the letter and tearing it in half) I quit. I just quit. (sits at the piano stool)
( Segue to composers number.)
(after the song)
PATTY: Mr. Steinmetz!
LENNY: What?
PATTY: Steinmetz up in 3B! He pays for that satellite Internet service!
LENNY: He never speaks to me, Patty. He never speaks to anybody! He goes in at night and closes his door and downloads Wagnerian operas all night long. He’s a weirdo.
PATTY: But he’s got a satellite connection.
LENNY: He won’t even open the door.
PATTY: You seen the way he looks at my butt when he comes up the stairs?
LENNY: No.
PATTY: He’s not looking at my shoes, Lenny. The old guy’s got the hots for me.
LENNY: Don’t talk that way. You’re my sister.
PATTY: (as she begins to take off her sweatshirt to revel a sexy top and starts arranging her hair differently) . . .and I’d do anything for my baby brother.
LENNY: What’re you doing?
PATTY: Steinmetz is going to open that door.
LENNY: And do what?
PATTY: (grabbing the flash drive) Send Mr. Carter off to the land of clogged pipes and hairballs!
LENNY: Patty, come on . . . what would Mom think? Look, I’ll just go ask him.
PATTY: He won’t even speak to you. He’s nuts, Lenny. . . and he’s got a concealed carry permit.
LENNY: I’ll blind him with a squirt gun full of Mr. Clean, grab his satellite phone and jump out the window.
PATTY: You hate heights.
LENNY: I hate heights.
PATTY: I can do this, Lenny. (as she moves him into position to act this out) I’ll knock on the door. (pretends to knock) Oh, Herr Steinmetz?
LENNY: Ya?
PATTY: It ees your fraulein!
LENNY: Mine fraulein?
PATTY: Open der door, Mein Herr. Fraulein Patty has some strudel for you.
LENNY: You’re grossing me out, Patty.
PATTY: And Mr. Carter is starting to mold.
LENNY: Okay! Come in! Come in! (she enters his imaginary apartment)
PATTY: (throwing her arms around him passionately) At last! Ve are alone!
LENNY: Patty!
PATTY: (rubbing his arms) Oh, your arms. . zey are so strong, Mr. Steinmetz!
LENNY: He’s on a walker.
PATTY: (moving around behind him) And your body, Mr. Steinmetz! Such a he-man! Your bulges! Zey are in all zee right places!
LENNY: That’s his catheter bag.
PATTY: Mr. Steinmetz, if you would just loan me your satellite phone for a moment! Just a teeny moment? Bitte?
LENNY: He’ll never fall for it.
PATTY: (throwing him onto the bed and pinning him down) Give me that phone or I’ll rip out your pacemaker and eat your Medicare card raw!
LENNY: (begins to laugh)
PATTY: What’s so funny?
LENNY: You! I love you, Patty. You’re nuts and a really, really love you.
PATTY: (moving to the door and then just before she exits) You vill laugh out der udder side off your mouth, Ludvig! Auf Wiedersehen! Sayonara! Aloha! (and she is gone)
LENNY: (pushing the laptop keys) Send! Send! (picks it up and prepares to toss it out the window) Send! (his phone rings and he puts down the laptop) What now!? Oh. . sorry Mrs. Skinner. I didn’t mean to shout…yes, there’s a funeral going on. Yes. Yes, I have a watch. How much longer will it last? . . .the service, I mean. . .not the body. Twelve. You mean minutes. You mean twelve minutes. Then what? . . . Death? But he’s already. . . oh. You mean mine. Any minute! I promise you! Any minute! Just a minute! (runs to the door, covers phone, looks out) Patty? (nothing) (into the phone) My secretary’s on it right now. (covering phone) Patty! (into the phone) It’s on the way, Mrs. Skinner! Don’t worry! You’re gonna love this one! (clicks the phone off) (shouting out the door) Patty!
MRS. BOUDREAU: (offstage) Lenny! Is that you?
LENNY: No! (begins to shut the door, but Mrs. Boudreau’s hand comes poking through and dangles there on the partially closed door)
MRS. BOUDREAU: (offstage) I need that money, Lenny!
LENNY: Lenny’s dead!
MRS. BOUDREAU: No such luck. Got the money?
LENNY: This is the undertaker! We’re wrapping up the body.
MRS. BOUDREAU: (as he hand lands splat on Lenny’s face, feeling around) You know you got face just like Lenny? Might want to have that fixed. (grabs his nose) I want that money, Lenny!
LENNY: Let go of my nose, Mrs. Boudreau!
MRS. BOUDREAU: You know you got a nose just like Jack Nicholson? I swear to God it’s just like his. You see him in that Shining movie? “Here’s Johnny!”
LENNY: Just let go of my . . .
MRS. BOUDREAU: (still holding his nose) . . .but the Joker in Batman. . I loved that one. Or A Few Good Men? “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!” Easy Rider. . didn’t like that one. . they smoked grass the whole show. You smokin’ grass in there, Lenny?
LENNY: (grabbing her hand) Let go of me!
MRS. BOUDREAU: That’s assault, you know. I could have you arrested for assault.
LENNY: (pushing her hand back through the door) Leave me alone, Mrs. Boudreau! (slamming the door) You’ll have your money! Just go away! (there’s a pounding on the door) I said, just go away and leave me alone! (more pounding) (opening the door) Go away!
PATTY: (at the door) You greet everybody that way?
LENNY: Sorry, Patty.
PATTY: Fifteen minutes.
LENNY: Huh?
PATTY: They say they’ll have the connection made in fifteen minutes. You’re okay.
LENNY: I’ve got ten. I’m dead.
Act I ending crash… the wrong song is sent and Patty loses her job. …and blackout. . Mrs. Boudreau? Mrs. Boudreau you can’t shut off my power!