Clue Page #4

Everyone sits bewildered.

WHITE:

You say you are used to being a hostess as part of your husband's work?

PEACOCK:

Yes, it's an integral part of your life when you are the wife of a. . .

oh, but then I forgot we're not supposed to say who we really are,

though heavens to Betsy, I don't know why.

MUSTARD:

Don't you.

GREEN:

I know who you are.

SCARLET:

Aren't you going to tell us?

PEACOCK:

(removes glasses nervously)

How do you know who I am?

GREEN:

I work in Washington, too.

PLUM:

Oh, so you're a politician's wife.

PEACOCK:

Yes, I-I am.

MUSTARD:

Well, come on, then. Who's your husband?

Suddenly, Wadsworth opens the door from the kitchen.

PEACOCK:

(to Mrs. White)

So, what does your husband do?

WHITE:

(almost cutting her off)

Nothing.

PEACOCK:

Nothing?

WHITE:

Well, he . . . just . . . lies around on his back all day.

SCARLET:

Sounds like hard work to me.

Yvette, in the kitchen, opens the partition suddenly.

The noise coincides with a crash of thunder.

Mr. Green, jumpy as ever, spills his drink again, this time on Miss Scarlet.

GREEN:

I'm . . . sorry. I'm afraid I'm a little accident-prone.

He starts to wipe off her upper chest.

SCARLET:

Ah--watch it.

He stops.

Yvette starts serving food.

YVETTE:

Excuse moi.

The guests start eating.

PEACOCK:

Mmm! This is one of my favorite recipes!

WADSWORTH:

I know, madam.

PEACOCK:

So, what do you do in Washington, D.C., Mr. Green?

No answer.

PEACOCK:

Come on, what do you do? I mean, how are we to get

acquainted if we don't say anything about ourselves?

SCARLET:

(angrily)

Perhaps he doesn't want to get acquainted with you.

PEACOCK:

(bothered)

Well, I'm sure I don't know, but if I wasn't trying to keep the conversation

going, then we would just be sitting here in an embarrassed silence.

PLUM:

Are you afraid of silence, Mrs. Peacock?

PEACOCK:

Yes! What? No, why?

PLUM:

Oh, it just seems to me that you seem to suffer from

what we call pressure of speech.

SCARLET:

"We"? Who's "we"? Are you a shrink?

PLUM:

I do know a little bit about psychological medicine, yes.

WHITE:

Are you a doctor?

PLUM:

I am, but I don't practice.

SCARLET:

Practice makes perfect. Ha. I think most men need a little

practice, don't you, Mrs. Peacock?

Mrs. Peacock shrugs, very uncomfortable.

WHITE:

So what do you do, Professor?

PLUM:

I work for UNO, the United Nations Organization.

MUSTARD:

Another politician. Jesus!

PLUM:

No, I work for a branch of UNO. W.H.O., the World Health Organization.

PEACOCK:

Well, what is your area of special concern?

Rate this script:4.7 / 3 votes