The House of Yes Page #3
Marty, a word.
- A word, Mama, or many words?
- Oh, now, don't get snippy, Marty.
You've been in this house exactly
37 seconds, and you're already snippy.
It's no wonder your father died young.
He'd simply had it with all this snippiness.
A person can die a slow death...
year after year.
The way he said "salad"
when he meant "solid."
Two of you would not let it go,
like a puppy with a rag doll.
- Daddy didn't die a slow death.
- Let's stick to the subject.
I have no idea
what the subject is.
- I'll tell you what the subject is not.
- No, Mama.
- That's too broad a category. Tell me what the subject is.
- You. A fiancee.
- Here. Why?
- I love her, and I'm just trying to follow procedure.
- Do you love her for any particular reason?
- Why, you didn't like her?
I spoke to her for exactly 37 seconds,
Marty. Who is she? What does she do?
- She's a waitress in the Donut King on 14th Street.
- Uh-huh.
She smells like powdered sugar.
Marty, men don't marry girls
who smell like powdered sugar.
They have a sweet little affair with them, which
they recall fondly in their twilight years.
- Don't be such a snob.
- Marty.
Your sister has been out of
the hospital less than six months.
Last week she nearly lost it
because the seltzer water was flat.
Not just a woman, but a fiancee.
An anti-Jackie.
- Are you trying to push your sister over the edge?
- No.
- Well, just what then are you trying to do?
- Be normal.
It's a little late for that, young man.
Do you want us to leave?
Yes, I want you to leave at once, without
further ado, as soon as the storm lets up.
If you don't, I'll take away your
sheets, your towels, everything.
- Without "further ado."
- Yes. I'm getting dramatic.
Well, stop it.
What do I tell Lesly?
Tell her the truth.
- The truth.
- That your sister's insane. She'll understand.
Don't say "insane."
She's ill.
Oh, if she were ill, I could give her
an aspirin, I could put her to bed...
I could make her that soup
you're supposed to make.
- Chicken noodle.
- That, exactly. But I cannot.
I mean, I can make the soup.
For heaven's sake, it comes in a can.
I cannot make her well.
I have tried.
I come and tell her myself.
It would be better not to tell her at all. It
would be better if you had nothing to tell.
If there's anyone present who knows why
this marriage should not take place...
it is me.
- Why?
- Why what?
Why shouldn't this marriage
take place?
You know why.
Tell me.
Excuse me. I'm going to go baste
the turkey and hide the kitchen knives.
So, those are the towels.
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"The House of Yes" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 5 May 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_house_of_yes_10263>.
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