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PSYCHOLOGY; OR BRING A WEASEL AND A PINT OF YOUR OWN BLOOD
by Mac Wellman
Recent plays are THE DIFFICULTY OF CROSSING A FIELD with Composer David Lang and the Ridge Theater, and TWO SEPTEMBER at The Flea. Three OBIE awards, including the 2003 Lifetime Achievement. More about the author...


A candle in the dark.

A GIRL face appears in a small window quite high above, a window within a golden frame and perhaps above the frame strange illustrated double-somethings that could be ears or horns.

Under her breath she mutters something (we do not hear), something snide and cutting, but alas we cannot hear.

Downstage far left is the GUY and his GREEN CAR (The GREEN CAR is simply a green wooden chair with another guy dressed in black (a la Bunraku) sitting in it. But according to the wonder of theater we think GREEN CAR. The GIRL’s snide remarks are meant, obviously, for these two.

Pause of what the hell was that.

She mutters under her breath once more.

The GUY prickles, stiffens.

She does the bad thing again.

Again he prickles, stiffens.

GUY
Come down here and say that.

She looks disdainfully at him and his green car.

GUY
You heard me. You heard me. Come down here and say that. Come on down here and say that.

She does the raspberry.

The GUY stiffles, and prickens and looks at his Car. His Car prickles and stiffens and looks at his Guy.

She does the raspberry.

She does the raspberry again.

GUY under his breath.
Okay okay you can just go and do that that bad thing go ahead.

She does an exceptional raspberry.

GUY under his breath.
Okay okay you have made your point. I guess you sure have. (Aloud:) Come on. Come on down here and do that.

She does the bad thing once more.

GUY
Come on down here and do that.

She does the bad thing once more.

GUY
Come on down here and do that.

She mimes doing but does not do the bad thing catching him off balance thereby.

GUY
What do you call that?

She indicates, what do you mean?

GUY
What do you call that thing that that you do?

She indicates, you are a colossal dunce.

GUY
Do you, er, do you have have some kind of a name for that thing that you do or is it is it maybe just some kind of a some kind of a thing that you make up sorta on the spot sorta?

She mimics, on the spot sorta.

Another pause of what the hell.

The GUY looks at the GREEN CAR the GREEN CAR looks at the GUY.

? Someone or two or three recites one of the mangled propositions of Euclid:
A chain the same air line of the way can be persecuted, through the connection of both points that does not specify her.

The GUY stiffens, prickles.

The GREEN CAR stiffens, pickles.

The GIRL smiles sweetly, then mocks as best she can the way they stiffen and prickle.

(We notice for the first time that the GREEN CAR possesseth feet.

The GUY tries to ignore what we have all noticed for the first time, namely this fact of GREEN CAR feet.)

She does the Prong.

She does the Hook and Ladder.

She does the Double Prong.

GUY
Okay okay you just go and. You just go and.
You just come on down here and do that.
You just come on down here and do that.
You just come on down here and do that.
She indicates that she cannot hear what he is saying.

GUY
Okay okay you just go and. You just go and.
You just come on down here and do that.
You just come on down here and do that.
YOU JUST COME ON DOWN HERE AND DO THAT.
She indicates that she STILL cannot hear what he is saying.

He despairs.

The GREEN CAR tries to console him.

The GIRL mocks in turn, his despair and his inward raging.

Door of high window slams shut slams open. She shrieks.

GIRL
I seen you beat your kid.

I heard you say my kid was a loser.

I heard you say my kid was a noser.

I seen you beat your kid with sticks.

I heard you say my kid was a dumb doggo.

I seen you beat your kid with a piece of wood with nails sticking out.

I heard you say my kid was a dead monkey.

I seen you I seen you I seen you do dat and dat and dat.
Dat dat dat.

Pause of wondering what the hell is dat.

GUY
Go to, ah, got to, ah, go to, ah, merde.

She is astonished by this.

GUY
Go to, ah, merde.

She is enthralled.

GUY
Go to, ah, merde.

She is in love. Closes (the little) door above. Appears as if by sortilege below, through another (normal) door opened by a strange DWARF who wears a golden fez who has been also reciting the stage directions as though they were commands.

She stands there, ready.

~

She stands there ready but nothing much happens.

The people they pick up various tools and begin to tackle a variety of tasks that at first glance appear to be a part of a scene change but in reality are not. They are merely random and pointless acts of barely plausible pseudo-construction: these include the hammering in and pulling out of nails with a large claw hammer, the unbolting and bolting of clasps and turnbuckles, the unfurling and hanging of pointless and unnecessary drapery, the stacking and unstacking of chairs and platforms, cinder blocks, and whatever else is to be found. All of this is to be accomplished with the greatest patience, silence, and cunning and apparent technical purposefulness of the theater.

The DWARF who now wears a black fez, directs all of this, snapping his fingers and making low grunts. As the GIRL begins slowly to disrobe in the half light, a creepy, shapeless, and unconvincing sock-puppet appears within the precinct of her former window. This puppet is disturbing because he bears no resemblance to any known creature. Except one: the weasel.

Is she going to speak for the weasel? Is the weasel going to speak for her? Neither as it transpires.

PUPPET does a vast armadillo of a raspberry.

This so distracts us that we do not notice that the GUY has been replaced by the partially clad GIRL. Guess what has become of the one (GUY) who has been so egregiously and unconvincingly sworn at?

WEASEL (GUY)
Your kid throwed a ball at my kid.

GIRL
You you you. You no good cabbage.
Come down here and say that.
WEASEL (GUY)
Your brother flashed my sister.
Your brother flashed my mother.
Your brother flashed the Pope.
Your brother flashed Mrs Sprinkle.
Your brother is a dumb doggo.
Your brother has shit for brains.
Your brother has just got down from the trees.*

Your brother flashed my sister.
Your brother flashed my mother.
Your brother flashed the Pope.
Your brother flashed Mrs Sprinkle.
Your brother is a dumb doggo.
Your brother has shit for brains.
Your brother has just got down from the trees.

GIRL
Oh yeah? Oh Yeah? Oh Yeah? Oh Yeah?
Oh yeah? Oh Yeah? Oh Yeah?
Come down here and say that.
Come down here and say that.
Come down here and say that.
Come down here and say that.
Come down here and say that.
Come down here and say that.

This sweet (but unconvincing) exchange is repeated word for word exactly the same dumb as the hole in the donut 900 times. The GREEN CAR looks back and forth from horrid sock PUPPET to horrid GIRL and cannot decide which is more embarrassing. Finally the GIRL stops and mutters to herself while the sock PUPPET repeats twice more for effect his screed.

A pause of accusatory burn-out.

Another.

An electric Rat scuttle along the far wall.

All watch this, curious only to see whether the damn things malfunctions;

it (ratly) does or doesn’t;

silence. Pause. Silence.

? Someone or two or three recites another of the mangled propositions of Euclid:

The pagination of the right of the chain can
extensively be
indefinite in a same air line of the chain.

She gives the sock PUPPET the finger.

The sock PUPPET rages inwardly.

She does the prong.

The sock PUPPET sizzles.

She does the double prong.

The sock PUPPET stiffens.

She does the triple prong.

The sock PUPPET stiffens and prickles.

She does the monkey brain.

The sock PUPPET quivers with intense hatred.

She does the Sicilian mal’occhio ...

The sock PUPPET puts on a small red fez, and speaks coldly:

WEASEL (GUY)
Why the moustaches?

The GIRL is puzzled as she possesseth no moustaches.

GIRL
So?

GIRL
So? So what?

WEASEL (GUY)
So why the moustaches?

GIRL
...

WEASEL (GUY)
Pourquoi les moustaches?

GIRL
Oh and aren’t we sophisticated?

WEASEL (GUY)
Why the moustaches?

GIRL
So? So what’s the implication?

WEASEL (GUY)
Why the moustaches?

GIRL
“Why the moustaches?” What’s that supposed to mean?

WEASEL (GUY)
[cold and dead] Why. The. Moustaches?

GIRL
So?

WEASEL (GUY)
So. Why the moustaches?

GIRL
“Why the moustaches?” What’s that supposed to mean?

WEASEL (GUY)
Pourquoi les moustaches?

GIRL
...

WEASEL (GUY)
Pourquoi les moustaches?

GIRL
...

WEASEL (GUY)
POURQUOI LES MOUSTACHES!

The GIRL turns away and rages inwardly.

The sock PUPPET surveys his vast domain with triumph and withdraws to his inner sanctum and carefully closes the little door behind him.

On the door is painted the face of the SUN avec moustaches.

The GIRL turns on the GREEN CAR who sensing a palpable threat tries to make herself very very small.

GIRL
What the hell are you looking at?

GREEN CAR sensing a palpable threat tries to make herself even more small.

GIRL
You’re looking at me like I was an immigrant. You’re looking at me like I was a foreigner. I don’t like it when people stare, when people go and stare at you like just came down from the trees. You think I have a tail? Take a good look. I don’t have a tail. My people never had tails. My people are of an unimpeachable origin. We once lived among the blue bells. Not in the tree tops like monkey brains there.

Indicating the now closed window high above, now sun now moon.

A hopeless pause of rancor and unease.

Pause. Silence. Pause.

Something happens in a far corner of the theater. Something barely visible, something barely audible.

GIRL softly
I had a little dog once who looked like you. Yes just like you. I would call and he would come running. Sometimes he would come running even though I hadn’t called. Don’t know why. Maybe he could tell there was something the matter. Maybe he could tell there was something the matter even before I could.

I think this life is truly awful. A dog’s life. Doggo the dog. Just when you think you have things figured out they go pop and just change on you and you not a whit the wiser. People act strange and are always doing things that don’t make any sense. Most people face the fact act like they have no soul. People without souls.

[GREEN CAR is now listening carefully. Perhaps this is what GREEN CAR has been thinking all along himself herself whichever.

GIRL softly
You ever do something really nice for someone. You know. You invite them for dinner on your birthday and prepare them the Pascal feast of roasted lamb and they and they don’t show and stand you up and you are shaking with rage and sorrow and disbelief and the knowledge of the sheer futility of ever knowing what is going on inside another person’s head. You hear yourself saying, Lowell, Lowell, you creep....

But you are not speaking, because you are only raging inwardly and the voice you hear is the voice of yourself raging inwardly. Psychology. Psychology. I mean take a good look at people. Liars. Cheats. Just a bunch of conniving con artists. Frauds. Hacks. Losers. Nosers. Losers like Lowell. You cannot imagine how low they can sink and how desperate and opportunistic they are all of them. How simple minded and callous and just plain spiritually empty.

A dog is better than any person. A dog is not like a person. I hate them all. People without souls.

I won’t tell you what happened to my little dog.

Something bad something very bad. He was only a mutt.

(Bitten on the neck)

Just a little mutt.

(Bitten on the neck by a [whisper] weasel.)

Psychology. Psychology is just a an empty word.

The psychology of Lowell blah blah what does she mean?

So what does he mean?

So what does what mean?

Ha. The word. Psychology.

[The GREEN CAR finds the existential predicament described here just as much of a puzzle of entrapment as does the half clad GIRL.

As the GIRL slowly and awkwardly gets dressed, we hear the first Procession of Knights from Wagner’s PARSIFAL: “We bear the grail in concealing shrine to its holy place; whom have you in that gloomy shrine that you mourning hither bear?”

Various shadowy figures collect and continue as before the random and pointless redistribution of things, stuff, junk. Most of the things this time end up in a heap to one side. Stage right maybe.

? Someone or two or three recites yet another of Euclid’s (mangled) prepositions, as the insane DWARF who now wears a white fez mutters and snaps his finger directing as before the random and pointless scene change:

If the right pagination to the given
cancellation, a totality can be
persecuted, with using the way that the startings
and an obstruction
indicate that the center.

Silence. Pause. Silence.

Slowly the door of the little window opens and we see with horror a GREEN CAR puppet, faceless and horrid like the grill of an antique automobile from a depraved and former time. The GREEN CAR puppet is mic’d and speaks with a cold and deadly quietness.

GREEN CAR puppet
You know what you are yes you know ...

[Which one of us is he referring to, they both wonder the GIRL and the GUY, the former now seated in GREEN CAR’S green chair.

GUY
--

GIRL
?

GREEN CAR puppet
You yeah you ...

GUY
--

GIRL
?

GREEN CAR puppet
You yeah you ...

GUY
Yeah?

GREEN CAR puppet
You’re a passive aggressive hostile fuck.

GUY
Oh yeah?

GREEN CAR puppet
Yeah ...

GUY
Come on,* come on down here ...

GIRL
Come on down here and say that.

GREEN CAR puppet
Yeah?

GUY and GIRL
Yeah.

GREEN CAR puppet
You know what you are?

GUY
Yeah?

GREEN CAR puppet
You’re a passive aggressive hostile fuck.

GUY
Oh yeah?

GREEN CAR puppet
Yeah ...

GUY
Come on,* come on down here ...

GIRL
Come on down here and say that.

GREEN CAR puppet
Yeah?

GUY and GIRL
Yeah.

[This exchange is repeated as though on a tape loop word for word exactly the same dumb as the hole in a donut 900 times. The GIRL in the GREEN CHAIR and the GUY look at each other both bristling with inner rage.
v Something happens once more in a far corner of the theater. Something barely visible, something barely audible.

All crane their necks, curious and distracted.

There is something about this egregious rubbernecking that is repellant, almost obscene.

~

The darkness darkens. Are we going blind?

The DWARF, lurking in the gathering shadows, has some kind of fit, or conniption, or episode and he is writhing on the floor making little noises and worse.

All quietens.

All quietens, except for.

All quietens, except for?

All quietens, except for a tapping which once more inaugurates the random and pointless nailing, unnailing, unbolting and bolting up and stacking up of lumber and unrolling and rolling of drapes and curtains and all the rest of this random and pointless business. All of this is as before directed by the DWARF who has apparently recovered from his conniption and fit and episode and perhaps inwardly one secretly wonders if perhaps he is not directing anything and that the activity is not being directed by anyone and anything but is simply happening in the way a candle burns and burns until he is nothing but a glop of goop a shapeless glop of melted wax.

?::Someone or Something or two or or three recite the last of Euclid’s mangled propositions:

All the right angles are in the agreement.
If two chains are persecuted, this cut the
third place.

We are distracted by this. The lights do something that they should not and we are back where we were (roughly) at the beginning if we can remember back that far. We hear muttering:

(What the hell does that mean?)
(What mean?)

(“A whit the wiser”)

[The GIRL opens the door.

GIRL
It is a concept from psychology.

[The GIRL shuts the door.

GUY
?

GREEN CAR back where he was
...

[The GIRL opens the door.

GIRL
But a dunce like you wouldn’t know about psychology.

[The GIRL shuts the door.

GUY
Psychology.* What ...

GREEN CAR
What does psychology have to do with it?

[The GIRL opens the door.

GIRL
... idiot ...

[The GIRL shuts the door.
GUY and GREEN CAR
Come down here and say that.

[The GIRL opens the door.

GIRL
... moron ...

[The GIRL shuts the door.

GUY and GREEN CAR
Come down here and say that.

[The GIRL opens the door.

GIRL
... imbecile ...

[The GIRL smiles and shuts the door– now wearing the face of a silvery moon.

GUY and GREEN CAR
Come on down here and say that.

Come on down here and say that.

Come on down here and say that.

Come on down here and say that.

Come on down here and say that.

Come on down here and say that.

Come on down here and say that.

The door remains shut and does not therefore open.

They wait (stupidly) for the door to open.

GUY
Psychology. Ha. What.* Who.

GREEN CAR
Psychology. Fifty cent word.

We first see then hear the DWARF (with his first golden fez) lead a funeral procession and once more hear very quietly the music from PARSIFAL: “We bear the grail in concealing shrine to its holy place; whom have you in that gloomy shrine that you mourning hither bear?”

In the procession we see a flower strewn casque which bears the name of Woofli.

Darkness.

Pause. Silence. Pause.

We hear a violin.

We hear muttering.

We hear a plucked string.

We hear light, silvery laughter.

Black out.

This demented play is for the three
Lemurvians: Erin Courtney, Karinne
Keithley and Kate Ryan.

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