Two to Tangle by Victor Dalsky

This Play is the copyright of the Author and must NOT be Performed without the Author's PRIOR consent

ACT 1. Scene 1.

A Thanksgiving celebration at the Manchini house. All the members of both families are around the festive table. Franco offers drinks to each person.

Dino (taking a sip). Marvelous, son. First class. No one makes a better gin and tonic than you. (makes grand gesture of tossing a bill on the tray.) Mastery has to be rewarded. Your tip, sir.

Carol. At my age, I shouldn’t drink. But all right. It’s Thanksgiving, after all. (Takes a sip.) Especially when there’s a blizzard outside. I don’t remember another November this cold in New York!

Anna (wearing an apron and carrying the large spoon she was just using in the kitchen). What if I lose my head from your cocktails and forget about the turkey? I don’t want to burn it.

Franco. No one’s ever lost her head from a gin and tonic. It’s not like vodka.

Mark. That turkey is no danger anymore. We turned it a little earlier, so it will have nice crispy skin. That’s even tastier.

Marilyn (chugs down her drink and fluffs her hair). While the bird is languishing out there, let’s think of something to do. Something active. Original. I hate all these holidays. You have to diet for two months after all that gluttony.

Mark. What diet, darling? You’re in wonderful shape.

Dino. The male population of both houses is in solidarity. (Clinking glasses with Mark.) Let me make a toast, dear neighbor. To the women we love!

Marilyn. Well, if you love us, then you can’t refuse us a small request. Anna, when will your famous turkey be ready?

Anna. Just ten minutes or so.

Marilyn. Then let’s dance. Franco! You’re not just the bartender, you’re a DJ, too, right? Put on something romantic.

Franco (good-humored). Franco’s the bartender, Franco’s the DJ. What more do you want? Will an Argentine tango do?

Everyone claps hands: It will! It will!

Alison (after a pause). You want something original? I suggest - ladies’ choice. The beautiful girls ask their handsome partners to dance. Do you like my idea?

Dino (enthusiastically). Bravo, Alison, bravo!

Carol (slightly aside). And who’s a lonely widow supposed to dance with? Or will you find me a date on the Internet? A hundred-year-old geezer with gout and hemorrhoids! (Everyone laughs.)

Mark. My dear mother-in-law, I promise you the second dance. Though you do know what a bad dancer I am.

Marilyn. What’s it called this Argentine tango?

Franco. Suburban Tango.

Anna. I think I’d better keep an eye on the turkey. You’ll never forgive me if I let it burn.

Dino. No, no, dear. This is a dance for lovers.

Marilyn (to Franco). Can your Suburban Tango be a ladies’ choice?

Franco. I have no idea. I’ll ask DJ Rod tomorrow. (puts on the record.) I do know for sure that you can change partners during the dance. (claps the hands.) Attention! Tango for two houses! Everyone dances!

Marilyn. It’s a good thing we’re not celebrating Thanksgiving with the whole block. I wouldn’t know who to ask for sure. (Approaches Dino.) Will you dance with me, Mr. Manchini?

Dino. My pleasure, Madam Neighbor. (To Mark.) Mark, keep up. We’ll have a small dance contest. A ladies’ choice tango as a prelude to a turkey dinner.

Franco heads over to Alison intending to ask her to dance, but she asks her grandmother.

Alison. Sorry, Franco. But it’s ladies’ choice. And so, I’m asking my most marvelous life partner. My adorable granny. Why don’t you prepare us martinis in the meantime? I’ve been hearing about it for a week already…. (She practically pulls her grandmother along with her.)

Carol. Which of us is going to lead?

Alison. Certainly - me. I do have some experience at it. While studying acting, I had to play men’s roles sometimes. (to Franco.) Don’t be lazy, show the world what a bartender you are!

Franco. Don’t you worry, I just need a few minutes to work my magic. The secret of a good martini is getting the proportions right. And always gin, never vodka. But be careful, this is a powerful drink!

Each couple takes a turn at the front of the stage. They pause briefly and say a few words before floating upstage. Marilyn and Dino dance very professionally, executing each step with flair; Anna and Mark are clumsy, missing the beat. At the finale of the dance, a spotlight focuses on Marilyn and Dino.

Dino. You’re a marvelous dancer.

Marilyn. Don’t’ forget, I was a professional ballerina once. If it weren’t for my damned ankle, I’d be a prima ballerina in the Houston Ballet. Ben Stevenson idolized me…. (after another pause). But you’re a terrific partner! Where is that from?

Dino. Oh, dancing is an old passion of mine. I took lessons in so many clubs. Salsa, rumba, Paso Doble, even tap dancing… Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a long time. You used to produce new shows. Why only drama? You’re a professional dancer…

Marilyn. I couldn’t have stood failing in ballet. Too painful. As for producing… My last experience with a Broadway musical was it for me. The show cost my partners and I six million. It lasted three days…. We decided to shut it down to cut our losses. Believe me, it was a pretty good show. But someone was out to get us. Someone paid off the New York Post to blast the show, and that was it! Nobody bought tickets, the critics smiled politely, and we were dead. I was deep in debt. We had to sell the house. We barely managed to survive. There’s nothing more stressful than being a producer in show business. Constant battles and hassles. You’re always on the edge, and you get only one try, no do-overs. That’s why I’m in management now. They hire me to present a show and pay, and I’m ready to do it. Though you wouldn’t call this job a vacation, either.

Dino. If you ever decide to create a ballet, don’t forget me. I’d be thrilled to be an extra.

Marilyn (with a smile). What extra? Extra investor?! You’re fearless! Bravo!

(Leading his partner away, Dino takes her around the stage, showing off a series of complicated steps. Then, leaving Marilyn, he goes into the kitchen.)

Now Anna and Mark are upstage.

Mark. Dancing was never my thing. And once I had a real embarrassment. At a school friend’s wedding I got brave and asked the bride to dance. It was a Viennese waltz, which I had never danced in my life. The carpet slid on the parquet floor beneath us and I ended up under the table, with the bride in my arms, at the feet of her new mother-in-law. That was hilarious.

Anna. Dino suggested that I take a few lessons many times. He even found a teacher for me. But I always found a way to avoid it. Maybe I should have tried….

Mark. I’m totally useless when it comes to dancing. But any repairs around the house, and I’m the king… And I consider dancing with the culinary queen - an honor.

Anna (with feigned embarrassment). Oh, don’t exaggerate. And then, I’m not happy with the turkey today…. (They continue dancing awkwardly, stepping on each other’s feet constantly.)

Now Carol and Alison are in the light.

Alison. Grandma, you’re a wonder. I don’t think I’ll ever find a better partner in my whole life.

Carol. When your grandfather was alive, we went out dancing a lot. And sometimes we danced at home. Simply put on a record and danced. Just the two of us… We didn’t need anyone else. …

Dino enters the room carrying a big steaming ceramic bowl.

Dino. Pasta’s ready, ladies and gentlemen! (Tastes.) The chef’s surprise—pasta con pesto! Bon appetite!

Carol, Marilyn, Anna, Alison, Mark (all together). Dino, you’re astonishing! Why pasta, when we’re having turkey?!

Dino. Pasta is always appropriate. Trust me, I’m Italian and I tell you that it’s no holiday without pasta.

Franco (claps his hands). The martinis are ready. We’ll all be tipsy in no time.

A deafening siren goes off. Then the alarm starts beeping. The lights go out. In the total darkness, a chorus of voices can be heard.

Anna. O, my God! The alarm! I forgot all about our turkey!

Dino. Happy Thanksgiving 2018!

Mark. I told you the bird would have a nice crust!

Alison. Grandma, where are you? Are you all, right?

Carol. I’m here, dearest.

Marilyn. Poor, innocent turkey. We’ll have to settle for cocktails.

Franco. You can be 100 % sure. My bar is open 24/7. What will you order, ladies and gentlemen?

Blackout

Scene 2

The Frishman house. Mark, Anna, and Dino sit in silence at the table holding water and fruits. Marilyn, standing at the window, is mechanically stirring her coffee. Her hand trembles and the porcelain rings. Anna interrupts the protracted silence.

Dino. Franco promised to be here in ten minutes. The show opens tomorrow. Do you know what they’re calling it? “Imprisoned by the City.” Not bad, right?

Mark (after a long pause). I’ve seen a few of the works. I’d call it “City of the Indentured.” Such is New York.

Anna. Let’s go over it again, the best way to explain it. I can’t even imagine how they’ll react.

Marilyn. Whether we prepare or not, doesn’t really matter. (She drops the coffee, the cup breaks.) Damn, I can’t keep hold of anything.

Alison appears at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing a very extravagant, revealing dress. The two outstanding features of the dress are a large flower on her chest and a rather large tattoo of the designer’s logo on her bare belly.

Alison (coming down the stairs). Please, nobody faints. This dress is opening the show of the new collection by the House of Olga Pellini. And I’ve been chosen to wear it. Beyond belief, isn’t it? I have to show you my entrance.

Dino (with a chuckle). I think it should be called a show of a new collection of bodies.

Anna, Marilyn (simultaneously). Dino!

Dino. Breath-taking!

Mark. Obviously, the House of Pellini is suffering from serious financial troubles. They don’t even have enough to buy fabric. If this dress opens the show, what’s the big finale? Just a parade of naked models wearing only fig leaves stamped with the Pellini label!

Alison. Why so glum, Daddy? And really, what’s up. You all look miserable. Tell me.

Sharp ring of the doorbell. A second later the door is flung open and a smiling Franco, wearing several cameras, appears.

Franco. Hello, everyone! You can congratulate me. My work is on the poster for the New York Photo Biennale. (Removes all the camera equipment). I’m begging you; give me a sip of water. Otherwise, like the Greek marathoner, I’ll die of thirst at your feet after announcing the victory.
Anna pours a glass of water and hands it to her son, silently.

Franco (gulping it down). Ah, that’s better. (Pours himself another glass and drinks it). What’s wrong?

Mark (summoning up his courage). Listen, children. We’re getting divorced. … (Moves his arms apart.) And getting together again… Damn, I can’t explain... Dino, you do it!

Dino (making the same hand gestures, but in the other direction). And in the second case, we’re also divorcing and getting together …

(Marilyn approaches Dino, puts her hands over his and calms him down. Alison and Franco exchange confused looks.)

Alison and Franco (simultaneously). What? What are you saying? Who’s getting together?! Who’s getting divorced?!

Marilyn (decisively). My dear children. Alison, Franco, listen. Mark and I and Anna and Dino have decided to break up.

Anna. But, at the same time, Marilyn and Dino and Mark and I are going to try… But we’re not parting as enemies or anything…

Franco. Are you nuts? Have you lost your minds in your old age?

Alison. Is this a joke? You’re screwing with us. It doesn’t happen that four people all at once just…?

Franco (sarcastically). Why don’t you tell us you’re getting married, too? (He pours more water, the glassware jangling.) Or are you all going to live together and with orgies and no shame?

Alison (going over to Mark). Daddy, you’re the only sane person here. Tell me, are you joking? Really? (She looks over at the wall calendar. Breaks up in hysterical laughter.) Franco! Franco, look! They really got us.

Franco. It’s April Fools? Today! They were kidding! Come on, ‘fess up, whose idea was it? You get first prize in the dark humor division.

Alison. Hilarious! (Grabs Franco and spins around the room with him.) They made us believe that we would have tiny brothers and sisters! Pampers and pacifiers! That we wouldn’t be alone in our old age. (To Anna.) I hope you don’t have mastitis, dear Mrs. Mancini? (Exposing her breast to the older woman.) Would you like to breast feed a new baby?

Anna passes out, sliding onto the floor. Dino and Mark rush up to her from different parts of the room.

Dino, Mark. What’s the matter? Are you OK?

Anna. Nothing. I just got dizzy. It’s too hot. (To the children.) My dear children, it’s not a joke. We didn’t even realize it’s April first today. That’s a coincidence. But we really have decided to try …

Franco. Try what? Get in the same bed? Do a joint project for new babies? Have you lost your mind?!

Marilyn. We understand this is a shock. And we…

Anna. As mothers, we decided it would be better for you to stay in your own homes, with your mothers, without moving anywhere.

Franco. How touching. Thanks a lot. The four of you have done everything to destroy us, to break up both homes.

Alison (grabs the photo of her parents on the end table, tears it up and tramples it). Hate you!

Mark. You must understand. Life is much more complicated than any formula. It just happened….

Dino. And then….

Anna (softly but firmly). We decided that this concerns the four of us. This is more comfortable, warmer, better for us—at least today. These are the twists of fate.

Dino. You’ll understand with time. Family life is… (he gropes for an image.) It’s not road paved with gold. There are potholes and cracks. And we’re not angels…

Alison. So now what, angels? What happens to us? Did you give that any thought at all, our so-called loving parents?

Marilyn. Of course, we did. Our new households are open to you at any time. Your mothers and fathers love you just as we always did. It won’t make a different where we live, here, or somewhere nearby, once we sell the houses.

Franco (angrily). What do you mean - it doesn’t matter? It won’t make a different where, it doesn’t matter with whom — then what does matter? (Grabs an apple, takes a bite and chokes. Coughing even harder, he continues his tirade.) Shit! Lying cheaters!

Alison starts pounding Franco’s back with one hand, and with the other she makes chopping motions in rhythm with her words.

Alison. I don’t believe a single word you say! Not one! What was it you kept telling me since I was little? Our home is our castle! The family is the most important thing! Liars! Hypocrites!

Anna nervously pours more coffee, gulps it down. The cup falls and shatters.

Alison (bursts out angrily). Right! Break everything you can! There used to be two families. Two happy families, in their own way. Now, there’s nothing left. Ruins and rubble! (grabs what’s at hand—sofa pillows, stuffed animals—and throws them at her parents. They try to avoid the flying objects.) Connivers! Cheaters! Bastards! Fuck you!

Marilyn. Alison, Alison, stop it!

Mark. Alison, sweetie, what’s the matter! You seem off!

Alison takes off her shoe and beats the full-sized photo of her parents on the wall. The portrait falls on the floor. Franco stomps on the portrait with exaggerated pleasure.

Anna. Franco!!! Stop it!!! What are you doing?

Alison kicks the portrait some more.

Dino. She’s in a fury!

Alison picks up a cushion from the floor and throws it at her father, who is by the front door. He moves aside and the pillow hits Carol as she walks in.

Carol (looking around). What’s going on? The last time I saw a battlefield like this was thirty years ago in a mental institution near Boston. Grandfather and I went there to hand out Christmas presents. But those were patients, sick people… I came over because I wanted to tell you about my will. This doesn’t seem to be the right time now, though….

Blackout