CLARK GABLE – wears something 1940ish, casual and compatible with Gable’s style.

 

MARILYN MONROE – wears a simple light dress, 1950ish, like something Monroe would wear.

 

Set is a shallow room dominated by a trompe l’oeil fireplace on either side of which sit unmatched Chinese vases. Also in room: grandfather clock, blue rug, Victorian love seat, floor lamp, desk, swivel chair. There is a sherry bottle on desk, half full, and an empty glass.

 

Floor lamp goes on, lighting set mercilessly. CLARK GABLE is seated at desk, three-fourths turned away from us. 

 

After about ten seconds, GABLE puts hand on bottle, pauses briefly, then simultaneously picks it up and swivels front. Observes label. Goes to uncork bottle, hesitates, uncorks it with teeth, spits cork onto blue rug. pours some liquid into glass, swirls it, admires color, sniffs it, appreciates bouquet, brings to lips - grandfather clock strikes once - he hesitates.

 

                                                            GABLE

Things . . . bring me alive. Into the realm of the . . . senses. What I mean is . . . the mind.

                        (considers glass of liquid)

Smell of old leather . . . Color of buffalo piss . . . Taste . . .  of the hills of home . . . No question, I get more out of this booze than the average guy. It brings up a whole barrel of feelings – of – uh – ah . . .

                        (glass slips from his fingers, falls to floor)

It reminds me of me . . .

                        (gesture)

That’s why I love things . . . They bring me forth from emptiness. To experience. Experience . . .

 

(Thoughtful pause. He swivels back to desk, knocking over bottle which falls to floor, emptying contents.  MARILYN MONROE enters.)

 

                                                            MONROE

Those vases don’t match. But I think I was here. Something about the sofa . . .

 

                                                            GABLE

Thing is, I don’t aim to be “led by the nose”.

 

                                                            MONROE

That fireplace. It would make better firewood. The blue rug. The cork on the blue rug. The puddle of water near the cork. The broken pitcher. I have a shivery feeling certain things can’t happen here.

 

                                                            GABLE

You can brig a horzzdo--

                        (stop)

You cad brig a horzz--

                        (stop)

Do warber budoo--

                        (stop)

__

                        (stop)

 

                                                            MONROE

(staring hard at fireplace)

Is this supposed to mean “warm my hands”?

 

                        (Instead, defiantly, she lifts her skirts and exposes herself to fireplace.

                        GABLE observes her. Inspired by her example, he rises, addresses

                        Chair)

 

                                                            GABLE

Couch. Couch? Lion. Lion. Lion! LION! LION! LION!

 

                        (Chair remains unimpressed. GABLE sits again in it. MONROE

                        slowly lowers her skirts. She address left vase)

 

                                                            MONROE

What is it?

                        (as into deaf person’s ear trumpet)

WHAT  -  DO YOU  -  WANT?

 

                                                            GABLE

Unless I’m out to lunch, the picture on that thing tells us how to live.

 

                                                            MONROE

Did you say something?

 

                                                            GABLE

Picture  -  uh – the vase--

 

                                                            MONROE

Yes?

 

                                                            GABLE

Pic—

 

(Tension mounts as both stare at vase. Suddenly MONROE shoves it through the fake wall. Relief in both of them. Though not for long in

GABLE)

 

                                                            GABLE

The other one seems . . .

                        (gestures “not quite right”)

Move it over there.

                        (she does)

Why did you smash the first vase?

 

                                                            MONROE

I had to do something.

 

                                                            GABLE

Yeah, but . . . Sometimes you gotta live with – uh – unbearable – uh – you know, in order to – to . . .

 

                                                            MONROE

What?

 

                                                            GABLE

To . . .

 

                                                            MONROE

Are you afraid I love you? More than you love me?

                        (he looks at her)

Just say-

                        (he looks away)

Just say I loved you a bushel and a peck, and you only loved me a pint?

 

                                                            GABLE

I don’t know.

 

                                                            

 

MONROE

A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck, while you only loved me a pint? What if I loved—

 

                                                            GABLE

I don’t know! 

                        (Beat)

Listen kid, I’m walking a thin line. It’s your fault. On my own, I felt . . .  Frankly, I didn’t give a damn.

 

                                                            MONROE

Don’t put on a show for my sake.

 

                                                            GABLE

What if I jacked off? Eh? What if I just blew my wad? 

 

                                                            MONROE

Go ahead.

 

                                                            GABLE

Yeah? What about the lamp there? Huh? It just wants to be turned off? Or on. Or off – on – off – on-

                        (stop)

Whatever I do has you in mind. Eh? You.

 

                                                            MONROE

                        (pointing with childish delight)

Look, the cork on the blue rug!

 

                        (They gather round, stare at it)

 

                                                            GABLE

The golden sun sinking into the blue Pacific, viewed by Mr. Christian from the quarterdeck of HMS Bounty . . .

                        (picks cork up, considers it)

 

                                                            MONROE

It’s a cork.

 

                        (GABLE drops it as though burned)

 

                                                            GABLE

Were you ever struck by a sign?

                        (rueful expression and rubs shoulder)

It can hurt.

                        (stops rubbing, drops expression)

You and me, we’re practically interchangeable.

 

                                                            MONROE

Honey pours down my legs; your flagpole goes up.

 

                                                            GABLE

So. I come to the party dressed as a wolf. Actually, I come to the party as a wolf dressed in tails. Tails . . .  No. I come to the party, climb into a wolf skin, then climb into a tux. Four wolf paws show. . . Then, I behave off balance, exactly like a wolf trying to balance on his rear legs.

 

                        (As he demonstrates, MONROE stares at him. He stops)

 

                                                            GABLE

Therefore . . . Therefore--

 

                                                            MONROE

I’m not wearing panties.

 

                                                            GABLE

What?

 

                                                            MONROE

They’re in the fridge.

 

                        (GABLE stares at her)

 

                                                            MONROE

My thighs are so white. So warm, so soft, smell so good. . . My thighs are so white I can hardly stand it. Such a waste. Every second another hairline crack in my white china thighs. They were made to be used: desired, uncovered, felt, kissed, licked, smelled, opened, tasted, talked to, written about, photographed, filmed—

 

                                                            GABLE

“White as a duck’s neck”, “Juicy as a peach”, “Soft as a . . . “ Smell like a ride across Lake Constance”! I sit here with a stiff rod. Because your thighs are so terrific. The most perfect thighs in the world.

                        (brief pause)

And I’ve got the greatest cock in the world. We were meant – fated – to . . .

                        (gesture – then, as though it’s been decided)

It’s settled. I’ll give up everything for you.

                        (brief pause)

Except my mustache.

                        (he has none)

Could you see me without it? Or these ears? They’re not a matter of pride, but of remaining, remaining . . . Once upon a time I could have shaved these ears off. Now it’s a question of them shaving me off.

 

                        (Pause)

 

                                                            GABLE

Remember how I discovered you?

 

                                                            MONROE

I was a waitress!

 

                                                            GABLE

That’s right.

                        (he frames her with his hands, like a camera)

You had a face like . . . A face . . . I don’t know . . . Like . . . 

 

                                                            MONROE

Like who?

 

                                                            GABLE

Norma Jean.

 

                                                            MONROE

Norma - ?

 

                                                            GABLE

“If you’re any good, brat, you’ll become just like her.” I said that. Back then.

                        (Beat)

I remember the way you wiped the Formica counter “without a thought”. Dreaming. Back then it was a cinch to figure out: I’d lean across, sweep the hair back from your neck – I knew you were made for a mustache brushing your neck -- and then--

 

                                                            MONROE

But you didn’t!

                        (beat)

You didn’t!

 

                                                            GABLE

I, I was on my way up the Big Two-Hearted River on a fishing trip with Coop. Yeah. I figured I’d see you again. 

 

                                                            MONROE

Chairs were made to sit in.

 

                                                            

GABLE

You were made to stand over a subway grate -  white skirt billowing! Or out in the badlands – Wyoming! -- tight pants – bawling over some – gawd damn dog food!

 

                                                            MONROE

I was made to sit in.

 

                                                            GABLE

Come on now, kid, I know what’s what.

 

                                                            MONROE

How do you know what’s what?

                        (he stares at her)

How do you know what’s what!

 

                                                            GABLE

By the-

                        (claps hands as in applause)

- of the chair, the lamp. Haven’t you ever felt the grin of a blue rug? We’re not alone, kid. We have daily -- you know -- intercourse -- with things.

 

MONROE

                        (mildly surprised)

You have – you – with the grandfather clock?

 

                                                            GABLE

Once. I wanted to . . . penetrate – get to know--

                        (he has gone behind the clock)

You know? The thing.

 

                                                            MONROE

You had a, a -- ?

 

                                                            GABLE

Yeah.  No!  A . . . relationship – and to – to – pardon my French - fuck something is to – the American way of, of, of—

                        (stop)

I saw a statue: Christ tempted by the devil. Carved out of a single hunk of marble. The devil was behind Christ and had his hands on his shoulders. But he was too close. It looked like he was – you know. Christ had this funny little grin . . .

 

                                                            MONROE

You just, just – went -- into its guts? The clock. Did it like it?

 

                                                            GABLE

You’ve heard the expression “to lubricate a woman”? Well, a clock, a clock . . .

                        (gestures trying to indicate the similarity)

Ok, ok – just because you’re here, I’ll play Mr. Nice Guy.

                        (to clock)

Sorry. Okay?

 

                        (Both stare at clock expecting it to respond. It doesn’t.)

 

                                                            GABLE

At any rate now I know what’s what - say, sitting in the chair reading, say, Riders of the Purple Sage, that, looking up when the clock tolls . . . rings? When it, when it “sounds” – you know what I mean.

                        (she stares at him)

The clock – gongs? Bongs? Clangs – bashes – crashes - when it blasts – blows up – combusts – When it -- explodes/evolves/evaporates/invents – eggs– eggs –eggs – ah – ah . . .

                        (stop)

I don’t know what it does.

 

                        (Pause)

 

                                                            MONROE

Tells the hour.

 

                                                            GABLE

“Tells the hour”. I look at it and . . . nod my head. There, you see the relationship. A nodding one. Not . . . not something else.

 

                        (Pause)

 

                                                            MONROE

But me you . . .

 

                                                            GABLE

Yeah. But sometimes I nod. With you it’s not so easy. Sometimes I – excuse the French -- fuck you, sometimes I nod. If I fucked you when I was nodding, what would that be? Eh? What would it be?

 

                        (GABLE becomes distracted by sight of Chinese vase)

 

                                                            GABLE

                        (to vase)

What’s your problem, pal?

 

                                                            MONROE

Would you like a cigar?

 

                                                            GABLE

What?

 

MONROE

A cigar.

 

                                                            GABLE

A cigar?

 

                                                            MONROE

You look like a cigar store Indian.

 

                        (GABLE rather finds himself rigidifying in the posture of a

                        cigar store Indian. They stare at each other. Suddenly she

                        slaps him across the face, which breaks him out of pose)

 

                                                            GABLE

                        (greatly relieved)

Ah! That was as good as a smack in the kisser!

 

                                                            MONROE

Something was needed.

 

                                                            GABLE

Yeah. Yeah--

 

                        (He suddenly embraces her dramatically.

                        They hold the pose too long, tremble, she falls,

                        lies awkwardly on blue rug, he moves to fireplace,

                        muttering)

 

                                                            GABLE

What the hell is this for—

                        (drives fist through faux wall)

 

                        (Long moment of immobility, he with fist in wall, she

                        lying awkwardly on blue rug. GABLE suddenly pulls fist

                        out of wall, grabs vase, shifts it here, there, the other 

                        place, until he is satisfied with the arrangement)

 

                                                            GABLE

There! 

                        (chuckles with relief)

The thorn is pulled.

                        (shakes his hand)

I feel like a new guy. Say, we could become man and wife. 

MONROE

It doesn’t feel right.

 

                                                            GABLE

What?

 

                                                            MONROE

The—

(indicates vase)

 

                                                            GABLE

You’re looking at it wrong. Upside-down, or--

 

                                                            MONROE

It’s not right.

 

                                                            GABLE

It was wrong before.

 

                                                            MONROE

It was right because I didn’t notice it.

 

                                                            GABLE

Everything would be hunky dory if you hadn’t smashed the first vase.

They were a pair. They were -- balanced. They were--

 

                                                            MONROE

What first one?

 

                                                            GABLE

Well, I could just shove that one back where it was.

 

                                                            MONROE

Go ahead.

                        (he doesn’t)

I could smash it.

 

                                                            GABLE

There’s a hole. There. Like a missing tooth.

                        (feeling space where first vase had been)

It’s killing me, it’s . . . Oh, Blue Blazes!

 

                                                            MONROE

You’re a junkyard.

 

                                                            

GABLE

You were screwing up our relationship before it started!

 

                                                            MONROE

I’ll just move it over—

 

                                                            GABLE

DON’T TOUCH IT! 

                        (beat)

Nothing more to be done.

 

                        (Long pause)

 

                                                            GABLE

I can’t move.

 

(MONROE picks up cork. She places cork on desk – GABLE tries to speak, can’t. She moves cork to love seat – he remains immobile. She

                        picks it up, considers, throws it off stage – GABLE is

                        released. He returns to desk, sits, back to us, as at beginning.

                        She stares at him)

 

                                                            MONROE

Are you sure?

 

                        (Finally clock chimes once, softly. MONROE goes

                        to love seat, sits. A moment.)