What About Dick? Page #3

- He's looking for a

Mommy for the lost boys.

- You are one of the lost boys, Dick.

- Mm, because I have no mommy.

- Because you are different, Dick.

Lost boys are not so

much as lost as hiding.

- From whom?

- From the cruel world,

Dick, which frowns on

boys trying on Tigerlilie's

flimsy dresses or

borrowing makeup from

Tinkerbell, or going out

hunting for rough, male pirates.

Let me put it another

way, when Oscar Wilde

talks of a love that

dare not speak its name--

- What's that?

- Well, it's male love.

- No, no, not that,

that, there on the beach.

- Oh good heavens, it's a piano.

What's it doing on the beach.

- Sounds like Rat Maninoff.

- I'm going to give this

piano to the working

classes.

- Why?

- Because they need some new instruments.

- But I saw it first.

- Then we shall call it

the Dick piano for the

working classes.

- Hey Burt.

- Yes, Ken.

- See that piano?

- Yeah.

- What's it doing on the beach?

- Well perhaps it fell off

the back of the Titanic.

- Maybe its a symbol.

- Nah, it's definitely a piano.

- Hey you two idiots.

- Yes, Gov?

- What's your name?

- Burton Russell.

- The Philosopher?

- No Sir, Burton Russell

the furniture remover.

- Oh, well, I want you

to remove this piano to

London, I'm going to give

it to The Working Classes.

- Wow, I'm sure they'll be thrilled,

all 25 million of 'em.

You okay, Ken, you got a bit pale.

- There's something oddly

familiar about this piano, Burt.

- What?

- I've seen it before.

- Where?

- In India.

When I was in the regiment.

It was August 1898, a

stinking hot day in Shagistan.

- What's going on?

- He's having a flashback.

- Oh dear, can you stop him?

- Too late, Sir, it's started.

- I was in British India in Shagistan with

the Queen's Armed Gay Gordon's,

a cross-dressing British regiment sent to

raise morale on the Northwest Front Yard.

We were a hundred men under Lord Darling,

guarding the back passage to India.

One day, I came across a local man by the

name of Deepak Rushdie Obi Ben Kingsley.

He was making something rather special.

- There, that is it.

It is finished.

- What is it, Deepak?

- Well, what does it look like?

- Well, it looks like a dick.

- Exactly, in fact, it

is a dick, but a toy one

for the women.

- What kind of toy.

- A toy women can play with.

- Where?

- in their privates.

- Well, what will they do with it?

- Well, they could, sit on it.

- You mean--

- Yes.

- Good grief! You're a monster.

- No, that's just

shortsighted, women will enjoy

this little toy.

- But, I can't believe that any woman--

- Oh, yes, they will, you

will be shocked, Sergeant

but you're looking at the future.

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