Having transcended our potential for social mobility, we depart into the void only to be invited to the cocktail party of the Unmenschen. So it goes, I suppose.
Some people wonder.
Good. They should wonder. If they didn’t, who would?
Yo yo yo yo yo my name is Flash and I smoke some hash.
I take hot showers and I spend cold cash,
on the honies.
Boy, you think I’m being funny?
Playboy bunnies ain’t got nothing on my honies,
Now me and my crew, we run these streets,
I just bust a fuckin cap in the chief of police.
From While the Cat Was Out:
CHERYL. I don’t know what happened to you. You used to be such a nice kid.
HARRY. Throw me out of the house, then.
CHERYL. You know I‘d never do that… no matter how many good reasons you gave me.
HARRY. Aw, gee, ma, you’re a saint.
CHERYL. But you know, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer to me. And to your brothers.
HARRY. Actually, it would. See, I have a condition, it’s called paternal-oppositional dysphoria—it makes you hate your father and take it out on your family.
CHERYL. Save it for the shrink.
HARRY. I would, but you won’t send me to one.
CHERYL. You don’t need one.
HARRY. The middle child always needs therapy. Jesus, mom, don’t you know anything?
CHERYL. Harry, if I can get through life without therapy, believe me, you can too. (Beat.) How was class today?
HARRY. I didn’t have class today.
CHERYL. Yes, you did. It’s Thursday. I know you have class on Thursday.
HARRY. I didn’t go.
CHERYL. And why not?
HARRY. Because I’ll get an A in that class whether I show up or not, and because the professor is an idiot, and it’s at 8 in the morning, and I’d rather sleep in my bed than in a chair.
CHERYL. So you slept all day.
HARRY. No, I stayed in bed and read a book. Believe me, it was more educational than going to class.
CHERYL. If you say so. What was the book about?