by David Mamet
CHARLES: I want a number so high even dogs can’t hear it. Are you cogitating? (Pause)
TURKEY GUY: I am.
CHARLES: And where have your deliberations led you?
TURKEY GUY: “No.”
CHARLES: “No”—to your Commander in Chief?
TURKEY GUY: Yes.
CHARLES: In wartime…
TURKEY GUY: … I…
CHARLES: Okay—that’s treason.
TURKEY GUY: Treason?
CHARLES: Under my wartime powers? You bet your ass.
TURKEY GUY: You know what, I don’t think so. You know why? You’re dead.
CHARLES: I’m dead… ?
TURKEY GUY: Your numbers are lower than Gandhi’s cholesterol, and, after the election, we’ll see you at Swap Meets signing autographs. You LOSER.
CHARLES: (To phone) Get me the Pork People on the phone …
(ARCHER takes the phone.)
TURKEY GUY: Oh. You’re gonna sell “pork” on Thanksgiving.
CHARLES: Watch me. Show this gentleman out …
(ARCHER motions the TURKEY GUY out.)
ARCHER: (On phone)… holding for the Pork People …
CHARLES: (Pause) Bernstein.
BERNSTEIN: Sir?
CHARLES: What is that about your neck?
BERNSTEIN: Sir, it is a Chinese amulet.
CHARLES: An “amulet”?
BERNSTEIN: That’s right.
CHARLES: From “China”?
BERNSTEIN: Yes, Sir.
(Pause.)
CHARLES: Ah huh … Bernstein?
BERNSTEIN: Sir?
CHARLES: Are you an agent of that Oriental Power?
BERNSTEIN: Sir, I am not.
CHARLES: And yet you bear their “mark” about your neck.
BERNSTEIN: Sir, it is a symbol of love.
CHARLES: Aah …
BERNSTEIN: And Family Unity.
CHARLES: And how am I to know that? Bernstein? I don’t read Chinese … Do you?
BERNSTEIN: They gave it to me at the hospital.
CHARLES: Uh-huh.
BERNSTEIN: When we went to claim our daughter.
CHARLES: Then you don’t know what it means …
BERNSTEIN: They told me.
CHARLES: Do you suppose, Bernstein, the Chinese are incapable, of hanging on your neck, a symbol, which said to their cohorts, in this country …
ARCHER: I have the Pork People on the phone.
CHARLES:… “Rise up and kill the White Oppressor.”
BERNSTEIN: They give it to all families who adopt a child.
CHARLES: What better conduit, Bernstein, for their filth. Can you be so naive?
BERNSTEIN: Sir—
CHARLES: Are you a friend of those forces inimical to the best interests of your native land?
BERNSTEIN: Sir, I am not.
CHARLES: And yet you went to China.
BERNSTEIN: Sir, Nixon went to China.
CHARLES: He went to play Ping-Pong.
ARCHER: National Confraternity of Pork and Pork Product Producers …
(CHARLES takes the phone.)
CHARLES: (To phone) Hello, Tink? How they hanging …? (To ARCHER) Caught between a dick and an asshole. (To phone) That’s a good one. Tink … (To ARCHER) Are we calling about that “thing,” about the piggy plane …?
ARCHER: What thing about the piggy plane?
CHARLES: Tink, far as I know, we’ve got a clean board on the piggy plane … (To ARCHER) Some guy in Bulgaria wants to file a complaint to … what? The International Amnesty for Victims of Oppression? They saw the piggy plane? They saw the people getting off the plane? Bags over their heads in manacles … How’d they know the plane was yours? (To ARCHER) They saw the curly thing on the tail.
ARCHER: (To self) I told him not to put that thing on the tail.
CHARLES: Who saw it? A reporter? (He nods) Tink? Get me his name and we’ll have him killed.… Tink … Yeah, it’s been such fun working with you, too … But Tink? Lookit here, my library … (Pause. To ARCHER) He was thrilled to be able to make the contribution he made to our … our campaign, and he only wishes it could have been more. (To phone) Tink, I think I may be able to make your wish come true. Look here: Tink: You sitting down? What if. What if, historically, at Thanksgiving. Americans. DID NOT EAT TURKEY. (Pause) Well, they ate pork. (Pause) Well, who the fuck knows if they did or not. There’s guys say World War Two never took place. (Pause) I dunno, some Frenchmen. Point of my call: Tink. I got these turkey guys, want me to bless their turkeys. But—I’d rather go to my friends: (BERNSTEIN sneezes.) Tink, I would like to use the power of my office, to inform the American populace that, from now on, We will not demean, the memory of our ancestors white and red by eating turkey at Thanksgiving, but … hold on, but, BUT will honor them by eating pork. (Pause) Fuck the Jews. (To ARCHER) Do the Jews celebrate Thanksgiving?
ARCHER: How do I know …?
CHARLES: (Listens to phone) Who?… well, fuck them, too. How many Arabs do we have here …? (Pause) Oh. (Pause) Jeez … (Pause) Well … (To ARCHER) “How about some other holiday?” (To phone) Tink, that’s not what we’re selling. Tink. Today here’s what we’re selling: we’re selling, on Thanksgiving, Pilgrims ate pork. Pilgrims ate pork on Thanksgiving. (Pause) Well, thanks anyway. And “do I want a seat on his Board?” (ARCHER holds up two fingers.) No, you know what, Tink. Hey, gimme two seats on the Board. You bet. Thanks for listening. (Hangs up) He thinks he “gave” ’cause he lent us the piggy plane … Sinking ship, sinking ship? (To himself) They didn’t eat pork on Thanksgiving … They didn’t eat Turkey … (To ARCHER) What about if they ate tuna?
ARCHER: Who?
CHARLES: The American people.
ARCHER: They ate tuna on Thanksgiving?
CHARLES: That’s right.
ARCHER: Tuna.
CHARLES: Yes.
ARCHER: Is, I believe, a Pacific fish.
CHARLES: Yeah.
ARCHER: And the pilgrims …
BERNSTEIN: Mr. President, may I go home?
ARCHER: Landed on the East Coast.
CHARLES: Because of the time change.
BERNSTEIN: … Mist …
CHARLES: No, I’m gonna need you, Bernstein. Okay, okay. The pilgrims. They did not eat “tuna …” They ate some species of “codfish,” which, the Indians (To ARCHER) Find me an Indian … (ARCHER looks for a card.)… in their ignorance, called tooohnah, which in the blah-blah language means “great abundance from the sea.”
BERNSTEIN: Mister President, may I go home?
CHARLES: When I’m done with you, Bernstein. When you’ve fulfilled your duty. Then you may go home. (Of phone) Who the fuck is it?
(ARCHER hands him a card. Picks up the phone and dials.)
ARCHER: Your Indian …
CHARLES: Dwight? Dwight …? (Of card)
ARCHER: (Looks) “Grackle …?” “Chief Dwight Grackle.”
CHARLES: (To phone) Chief Grackle. Yaas, that’s right, this is who that is … waal, Dwight, it’s an honor to talk to you, too … (Pause) Yes, that was a fine day. (Pause) How is … (Is pointed out card) Tish? (Pause) She did … When? I am so sorry … (To ARCHER) Whoever last revised these cards, she’s fired. (To phone) Yes, yes, no, I remember meeting her at the … uh … I’m so sorry, Dwight. So sorry. (Pause) How … Hunting a what? (Pause) Well, these things happen. (Pause. To ARCHER) It’s got to be on the card, people. (To phone)… Dwight: I am calling … no, no, you get the kettl … you get that teakettle!! (To ARCHER) His wife died hunting a fucken walrus, and it’s not on the card … She was eaten by a walrus … (Pause. To phone) Dwight? Dwight. You got yer tea? You all set? Dwight: I am calling you in your tribal capacity … Dwight: well, no, it’s not about the hotel casino, Dw … Of course. I would be more than glad to … no, you go first. (Pause) Uh-huh … uh-huh. (Pause) Four … hundred beds.… four thousand beds. On the so-called National Seashore Preserve on Nantucket. Whew. Dwight, what do you mean “so-called …”? (To ARCHER) Because the Tre
aty of Porcupine Cove ensured to the Micmac Nation … (To phone)… sovereign rights in perpetuity … uh-huh … Yaas, yaas, Dwight. Yas. We have to go into that … I’m sorry, I thought you’d finished. (BERNSTEIN sneezes.) Gesundheit. (He motions for her to sit; to phone) Dwight, I need a small favor. I’d like you to announce that, as may be the case, you have discovered that the original Thanksgiving was celebrated not with “turkey,” but with codfish. Which your people knew as tuna. (Pause) God bless you, Dwight. Now, tell me how I can express my gratitude. (Pause) Well, then, I wasn’t listening. (Pause) Ha, ha, no, but seriously … (Pause) Just to say the fucken codfish was a tuna… ? You’re out of your … I can’t, by executive fiat give you Nantucket Island. Well, I can’t give you half of Nantucket Island.
ARCHER: … It’s a National Wildlife Refuge.
CHARLES: It’s a National Wildlife Refuge … (Listens) “Under the terms of Porcupine Cove” …(Pause) Well, maybe so, but I’m not at all sure that I want to give you half of … (Pause) Fuck the Treaty of Porcupine Cove, D … Dwight. (Pause) What, are you nuts? (Pause) I’M CALLING YOU TO ASK A FAVOR. DWIGHT? NO, THIS, NO. YOUR “RESPONSE” IS HARDLY IN THE NATURE OF A … A “favor” is, I’ll tell you what a favor is: to pick my kids up after soccer. That’s a favor. To give you the Federal Nature Preserve on Nantucket to build a four-thousand-bed casino … That is not a favor, Dwight. That is highway rrr … yes, I am aware that “I called you,” Dwight, you know, it might be in, a thinking man, in your best interest to have, in your “pouch” a favor owed you by the President of the … No, Dwight, I intended nothing by the use of “pouch.” Dd … Dwight, no, it is not a word I do associate with Native Americans … it is … Dwight, people have …
ARCHER: Tobacco pouches.
CHARLES: Tobacco pouches, uh-uh … DW … kanga-fucken-roos have pouches.
ARCHER: Opossums.
CHARLES: Dwight. Opossums have pouches. I intended nothing by my use of … well, well, fuck you, too. Fucken dime-store Indian … Yes, yes, I said it, and … (To ARCHER) He’s taping the call. (To phone) I don’t give a fuck if you’re taping reruns of Bonanza. Well, why don’t you fucken ride down here, Dwight, and present your complaint? Whyn’t you do that …? On your no doubt Painted Pony. Hey, I’ll leave a pass at the gate … (To ARCHER) Leave a pass at the gate for Chief DWIGHT GRACKLE of the Micmac Nation. (To phone) Yes, yes, Dwight, I did use that term disparagingly … (To ARCHER)… a “hate crime”… (To phone) Oh, really, well, well, Dwight. I CAN’T SAY I CARE. You know why? Because I can’t be convicted of crimes. I can resign tomorrow and my Vice President … (To ARCHER) What’s his name? (ARCHER shrugs) Will pardon me for crimes yet uninvented. Yes, while you, “Tonto,” are on a plane to nowhere. And I hope your second wife gets eaten by a walrus … (Listens. To ARCHER) In Micmac, that’s apparently the worst thing you can say … He’s going to send his braves down to extract revenge. (To phone) Well, Dwight, how’d you like a ride? I’ll tell the Secret Service to come by and put you on the piggy plane to Prybschych fucken Bulgaria with a priceless view of the Bumfuck Mountains, ’cept you will not see them, being encased in sixteen cubic feet of concrete, ’til the flesh molts on your body and falls in a tidy pile around your fucking, fucking, “terrorist” ass. Now you talk: (Pause) Well, fuck you, too. (The phone rings. ARCHER answers.)
ARCHER: (To phone) Yes … (Hangs up. To CHARLES) The Turkey guys. One ninety-five, is as high as they’ll go.
(Pause.)
CHARLES: Yeah, you’re the ruler of the free world, everyone’s your friend, you’re not, you’re just another “working stiff.” (Pause) Who can we shake down …?
ARCHER: Chucky … It’s over.
CHARLES: No. Arch, I’d have to go home broke.
ARCHER: Take the one ninety-five.
CHARLES: No library …
ARCHER: Even Cinderella had to go home sometime. (Pause.)
CHARLES: Someday. Some “researcher,” in some deep repository of our nation’s papers. Some budding “historian,” devoted to “the life of the mind,” will come across a note. That, in the past, there was such a figure, as CHARLES P. Smith. That he lived, and suffered. Who was he?
ARCHER: Who?
CHARLES: He was “a man.” (Pause) No, Archer. No. I have built no bridges, cured no disease; and the great problems which I found, I leave behind me. Did I understand “the world”? Who does? I went from day to day, trying to stumble forward by the light of those poor gifts I had. But somewhere, perhaps, in “the mind of God,” I’ll be judged not by my “self-assessment,” but by the needs of the Great Hidden Scheme. And I’ll be found to have served my purpose. (Pause) What is immortality?
ARCHER: It is the ability to live forever.
CHARLES: Indeed it is. But my legacy. Will die on Tuesday, when that wanker gets elected.
ARCHER: I know. It’s wrong.
CHARLES: A harsh world, Bernstein, is it not …?
BERNSTEIN: (Waking up) Sir …
CHARLES: Harsh world. Especially for you.
BERNSTEIN: For me?
CHARLES: As you are a lesbian.
BERNSTEIN: In essence, yes.
CHARLES: Thus, your day, must abound with constant horrendous disappointments, insults and betrayals.
BERNSTEIN: I endeavor, Sir, to live my life with self-respect.
CHARLES: That’s laudable, Bernstein. It’s more than laudable, it’s saintly.
BERNSTEIN: Thank you, Sir.
CHARLES: In spite of your loathsome, and abominable practices. For, Bernstein, you have been a good friend to me.
BERNSTEIN: Thank you, Sir.
CHARLES: A good friend to a failure. Yes. A man, who looks back. On his life. What does he see? But missteps, squandered opportunities, betrayal … loss.
BERNSTEIN: I’m sorry for your troubles, Sir.
(She sneezes.)
CHARLES: … to this man … gesundheit.
BERNSTEIN: Thank you.
CHARLES: … everything is wrong. Go home. The Good and the Bad:
BERNSTEIN: I’ll come in tomorrow, Sir, with your concession speech.
CHARLES: … all wrong.
BERNSTEIN: (Gathering up her things) God bless you, Sir.
CHARLES: Restraint and effort …
ARCHER: … mmm-hmm …
CHARLES: Right and Left. War and Peace.
BERNSTEIN: Bye-bye.
CHARLES: Sin and Redemption … All wrong.
ARCHER: Point to one thing which is not wrong.
(Pause.)
BERNSTEIN: I’ll see you tomorrow, Sir.
CHARLES: What if Thanksgiving is wrong?
ARCHER: I don’t get it.
CHARLES: Thanksgiving is wrong.
ARCHER: Why?
CHARLES: Bernstein.
BERNSTEIN: (Exiting, she turns back) Sir.
CHARLES: Thanksgiving is wrong.
BERNSTEIN: I don’t understand.
CHARLES: We, we had “slavery” for years.
BERNSTEIN: Yes.
CHARLES: That was wrong … We had, I’m sure there are other instances … uh, “disco”… things that we did in our ignorance, Bernstein. But, what makes this country great?
BERNSTEIN: Sir?
CHARLES: We Have the Power to Correct Ourselves …
BERNSTEIN: “Thanksgiving is wrong …”
CHARLES: Off the top of your head.
BERNSTEIN: Thanksgiving.
CHARLES: Yes.
BERNSTEIN: Is a Eurocentric holiday, uh, which …
CHARLES: Wrongs, Bernstein …
BERNSTEIN: … yes …?
CHARLES: Have victims.
BERNSTEIN: Sir, that is true—
CHARLES: Who are the victims of Thanksgiving, Bernstein?
BERNSTEIN: … are they the turkeys, Sir?
CHARLES: They are the turkeys. Write me that speech. Archer:
ARCHER: Sir?
CHARLES: Do I have the power to pardon turkeys?
ARCHER: Mister President, you do.
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br /> CHARLES: Tell them I want two hundred million dollars in cash, on my desk by breakfast, or I’m going to pardon Every Fucken Turkey In This Country.
ACT TWO
The men in shirtsleeves. Bernstein at a typewriter—typing paper all around her.
ARCHER: (Checking his notes) We can’t build the fence to keep out the illegal immigrants.
CHARLES: Why not?
ARCHER: You need the illegal immigrants to build the fence.
CHARLES: It’s always something.
ARCHER: And you can’t pardon all the turkeys.
CHARLES: I can pardon whoever I like. Clinton proved that.
ARCHER: That is, you can “pardon” all the turkeys but, the people will still eat them.
CHARLES: Not after Bernstein’s speech.
BERNSTEIN: When I’ve finished my speech, may I go home?
CHARLES: Why is Thanksgiving wrong?
BERNSTEIN: Because it celebrates …
CHARLES: Yes.
BERNSTEIN: Patriarchy.
CHARLES: Okay.
BERNSTEIN: Exploitation of indigenous …
CHARLES: … I’m listening.
BERNSTEIN: … peoples, and conspicuous consumption.
CHARLES: Uh-huh …
BERNSTEIN: Combined under the auspices of a seemingly nongovernmental holiday which is, in essence, a hymn to the power of the state.
(Pause.)
CHARLES: Yeah, no, you have to start again.
BERNSTEIN: Why?
CHARLES: Lookit … (Pause) You want to rile people up, you’ve got to give them something to like better than the things they like, OR something to HATE better than the things they like … You can tell them a good IDEA, but, that only works, if it lets them DO something, which, they couldn’t, course of events, do. Like Free Love or kill the Jews. (Pause) That’s what we’re aiming for. Throw in some sex for God’s sake.
BERNSTEIN: Oh. (Pause) All right, Thanksgiving was not, originally, a holiday of thanks, or harvest, but a historic day of orgy. When the Native Americans cast off all shackles of …
CHARLES: Uh-huh.
BERNSTEIN: Sexual restraint.
CHARLES: Well, now you’re talking.
BERNSTEIN: And cavorted, naked …
CHARLES: … I love it already …
BERNSTEIN: … making the woods ring with their savage, orgiastic cries …
CHARLES: … Good …