 It's academic, and it's theater, and it's a place where they book me. You have blogging and practice, and it's always that way. Information practices, historical practices, political practices. Samples of women sharing what it is they need to share and how they do that. There's no way you can ignore that. We don't know any more. Well, come on. You can come and see the talk. What time is it now? It started out about different people and about different things. The whole sea of phenomena. The universe of everybody. Yes, everybody. That's it. What can we do? We have to do it completely open. I think we might understand the right relationship there. How do all Americans change? Martin D. Siegel's Theatre Center here at the Graduate Center of CUNY took part three of our Arab Classic Place Day. It's a significant program at the Siegel Center. We bridge academia and professional theater, international and American theater. They already have two readings behind us. They were really fantastic. I think they executed great acting and directing. And also the place. They are a classic place. They stand on their own feet. And I also had a stunningly, another great audience for both of the readings. This event is a special event also, not only because of this theme. It's very unique. We don't really think this has been done anywhere in the Americas or in Europe. We got a lot of attention. We're live-streamed right now. We got mails from, I think, from Lebanon and from Berlin and other places. It was the notes of encouragement and how significant that is. And which we do think so. Our focus on Arab theater comes from the work of Marvin Carlson. Professor Carlson who is here with us, who is like the Arab theater specialist next to many, many others of his, focus of his work. The Arab Stages is also our website where we have an academic journal dedicated to theater from the Arab world, theater and performance, focusing on theater, on performances of festivals. And I really encourage you to go. A lot of work goes into that. We have a 20-board member advisory board. And it is one way to get some news and information of this truly lively scene with diversity that is stunning. Even so, we think we know a little bit of here and there, but it's always really surprising of what we know. The Segal Center bridges, as I said, academia and professional theater and international and American theater, though this is truly a significant evening for us. It would like to thank very much Joy Arab, who is our next generation fellow here. She also came back. She's just finishing up at Columbia with her studies. And she chose this as her project. We always give one day in collaboration with us. We're doing a sister project. This is called Black Classics. I also encourage you to have a look at this. It goes over two days. And I think it's one way to investigate, to research, to ask questions and to find out what is of significance and what surprisingly is not really done somewhere else in a small space, but such a big theater landscape here in New York City. And we have to do all, we have to do a better job. And this is our contribution I would like also to welcome Rebecca Margorez here, Phillip Homburg from Sundance. I see our great public player, Zeodora. So many, many others. So thank you for coming and I'll give the microphone to Joy now. But before I do that, take out your cell phone. Let's see where I have mine. Oh, it's outside charging, but just for a moment. See, it should be on, take a moment. It should be silent or mute or completely off. And it never rings in our readings. You will see this is the reason why. So again, Joy, thank you for everything you did for producing it. It is a great contribution. So thank you. Hi, everybody. Thank you so much for joining us for the last reading of the event. Thank you so much, Frank and Marvin for letting me do this. These plays are very important to me, but also very significant in the Arab world. And I hope that it will be significant for you guys and broaden your horizons. So this third play is The Flip Flaps by Yusef Idris. It was translated by Trevor Legasic and it was directed by N.J. Aguuna. I just want to thank so much everyone who stayed with us the whole night, the whole day. And please join us for the panel that's following. Thank you so much. Enjoy. By Yusef Idris, placed anywhere. Time, Act 1, anytime. Act 2, sometime after the events of Act 1, possibly even before. Act 1, the stage is bare except for a lectern fitted with microphones. On it are a jug of water and a glass. Behind the lectern stand a tall, distinguished looking man wearing spectacles which add to his dignity a starched white shirt, bow tie and dinner jacket. When the curtain has risen, he coughs on the back of his hand. Ladies and gentlemen, please don't be afraid. I'm not going to deliver a speech or anything like that. I'm the author of the play. We could of course have begun at once. Each of you sitting down there alone in the dark as you do in the cinema. But we are in the theatre. And theatres should be for celebrations where people can be together. People, all sorts of people, human beings have let their problems outside to come and live happily for two or three hours as one big human. Now they ought to be happy. First because they have come together. And secondly because their celebrations are to consist of play acting and philosophizing and a satire upon themselves in a fully frank and free and unashamed way. Now for this reason in my play there is no distinction between actors and audience. It is you who will be doing a little acting. And the actors a little viewing. Why not? Anyone who knows how to watch something also knows how to act. What was that? Yes, yes, yes. Oh, you don't know how to act. Oh, what a show, eh? Who do we have with us today who's never done a little acting, eh? To get himself never concocted a little story to get himself alone? No, yes, yes. Who, what a woman doesn't pretend to her husband to be delighted when his mother comes to visit. What actress could produce a sigh more longing than any woman amongst you who sees a particularly pretty dress in a shop window? Why you even come here to play a part? A part of the spectators' ears. Now what's all this about? Well, we've decided to uncover these hidden talents of yours instead of letting you all play your role as spectators, hiding your laughter behind your hands. Now why should you be so shy and embarrassed in front of each other, eh? We're all human beings, brothers in fact. Why are we so stiff and afraid of each other? Why do we keep so far apart as you're sitting shoulder to shoulder? But yet you might as well be a thousand miles apart. Look around you, my friend. Say good evening to your neighbour. Yes, yes, offer him a cigarette. He speaks the same language as you, you know. You won't find. It's for us to abolish the distance between us, to raise the curtains that hide us from one another to spend an hour or two or three or two in the morning, and join acting for one another and play acting and play making together and watching one another behave. Music strikes up. It may be either a brass band or a reed pipe to announce the entry of an actor and the author signals with his hand to someone off stage. No, no, say where you are, flip-flap. No one has come on yet. I have not finished talking to these lovely people. Friend, I want to present to you tonight the best, the greatest, the most... Music strikes up again, announcing an entrance and the author glares into the wings bopping up and down angrily on his bare legs. Then he stands still the moment, regaining his composure. The moment he opens his mouth to address the audience once more the music begins again. He turns around quickly towards the wings and cries into spare. That's it. I give up. You've all ruined it. You'll have to find another author. I'm through. Give me back what I've written. No, no, you really do irritate me. Come on, get back. Oh, come on, come on. We've finished now. We're sorry. Please go on making us sorry. Well, my friends, I wish to introduce to you tonight the best, the greatest, the very finest flip-flap ever to appear on the face of the earth. But before I do, we must search and find his master. The music strikes up again, but the author continues mouthing as though he is talking and determined to finish his speech, even while flip-flap enters to a great deal of noise and banging about. She is dressed in a very old suit of a peculiar cut, something like that of a clown. Her complexion is rather brown and her face is covered with flour or white powder. On her head, she wears an old tarbouche or a high-clonical cast suggestive of a tarbouche. The actor who takes this part should, in real life, be a humorous and satirical person. She comes swirling in like a tornado, circling around the stage, hitting out at random with a stick made of cardboard or a thin, cracked card to make a noise but cause no harm. She advances on the author who stands there repeating the best, the greatest, the very finest, the best, the greatest, the very finest, and so on, and she strikes her on the head. What the hell? How did you get in here before I finished flip-flopping? Oh, told you to come on. You can just get out of the way. Come on, get off with you. I'm not done. Oh, no, my fine fellow. It is you who can't go. Me? Why shouldn't I? You're an author. You can't go over there to make your play. I can only be a flip-flop here. But, oh, all right. But I want to introduce your master first. There's no need. I'll do that. Well, I'll introduce you, at least. Don't you think you ought to know how to introduce yourself first before, you know, you introduce me? What do you think this is anyway? How do you mean? What's wrong with me? What's wrong? Your pants, huh? I mean, it doesn't really look to me as if you're wearing any trousers. What's wrong with my trousers? It's the pair of regular authors' trousers. Authors always wear like that? Oh, yes. Yes, they must. They certainly must. How can you be a proper author? They don't, you know. And author has to create everything. I created this outfit for myself as an original designer. Yes. What don't you like about it? It's super, really. But, you know, if the viewer were to cut a little shorter, perhaps, cut a little slit at each side like that with introduction added to the front and a poster perhaps at the rear, then it would be absolutely funny, you girl. Again, there you go, cutting in at the wrong time and bothering me. Well, I suppose we ought to find out what a damned master of yours is. Can you look for him, at least? Excuse me. What's this got to do with me? You just bring me a master, and I'll go to work. Without a master, how can I work? Will you stand in for him? Trouble is, I've forgotten what he looks like. I don't know how absent-minded I am. Oh, could that be him? He seems like a man sitting in one of the front roads and makes him stand up and brings him on stage. So that's him. He sounds as if he's come straight from the carpenter's shop. Well, what's this? Now, I wonder what you've been delivering. I've got you an inspector from the Ministry of Supply. I swear that bread has already been eaten once. What's he so afraid of me for? I haven't got the time to eat the bread. I'm really rushed, you know. I've work to do and appointments to keep. Oh, really? Well, I like to do work as well and it's not me who lost him. Okay, my dear trip lab, I still have some instalments in my pork clastries that I haven't even written yet. I just don't have time for you. You'll just have to look for yourself. What? Me? Look for him? Why should I? I'm going to sit here. I can't find anything wrong with it with him. Well, can't you see, master? And then I want an actual real master. You know, someone to arrest a fellow and make him want to serve him. Someone big who dresses like a thumb star in a smart dressing room and all that and looks as though he's somebody. This fellow just looked at how lucky he is. Hold on a moment. You know where I've seen something like that before? A television series. Yes, that's it. That's spitting image. There he is. I found him. See, I hear the clap. Author points down to the master, leaning back asleep in the front row of his stalls. And what is he sitting there like this? Well, what are we going to do with you? I mean, chattering away like you've been. It's already half past four. We still haven't finished writing. Either I take delivery of him awake or I won't have anything to do with it. Please, flip clap. This installment has to be broadcast at nine o'clock. I'm in a hurry. There he is. He's got him now. Wake him up and get to her right next time. I'm off. Don't go yet. All right. So this is my master now. Where's my mistress? I just hope you haven't forgotten her that far because if you have, I won't take any part in this play. It all depends on my mistress. Why, I've been searching about her for so long. Ever since that last play and now you go and lose her for me. No, no, no. I've not lost her and anything like that. It's just that I've forgotten all about her. I must start working till she comes. My honor. Flip clap. I will send her to you at once. By taxi. Your honor. And the taxi. Seriously. Seriously. An author's honor. It's just like the matches are in these days. You can strike them. It doesn't. Times and they still want to light. It's up to you. Well, goodbye now. Goodbye. But watch out, policeman. Doesn't see you like that. Well, I need to adapt you to your own special medium. Flip clap. This play. Oh, don't worry. Just send me mine. It's just that I am yours to do it. I don't know. This play. Flip clap. I need to be at it. Don't worry. I will make it explode. Flip clap. The public. The public. My reputation. The critics. Fame. The seventh scene of the tenth act is going to be. Oh, it's going to raise me to the sky. Dash you to the ground. But you needn't worry about that. We'll bring you down to the earth. All right. Flip clap. I won't. Why don't you leave now? Okay. The seventh scene of the tenth act. Her real bank. The public. The real world. The critics. The accent. Another indeed. As if anyone invents anything anyway. Oh, well. Might as well get on with it. Okay. What about waking up now? Mm-hmm. Okay. The water's gone. And we can begin the fun. Up you get. Nothing but snore, snore, snore. Please do wake up, John. Anyone get a hammer. Anyone? Get up. Get up. Get up. Where are we? My heavens. Here we are indeed. Oh, it's you. Well, who did you expect, Christine Keeler? I blessed you. You know, it was for the dream I was having. Nice dream, I hope. No. I blessed you. I was having such a dream. I hope to turn out nice. Well, what were you dreaming? You must have been dreaming. You were asleep from what I know of you. Oh, no, no, no. I was dreaming that I was dreaming. Okay. And what were you dreaming you were dreaming about? I was dreaming that I was dreaming. That I was dreaming. And in that very last of them, the very last. I was dreaming. What were we dreaming, though? That I was dreaming. Were you dreaming that you were dreaming? That you were dreaming about? I was dreaming. I was dreaming. I was dreaming. Yes. I was dreaming. I was dreaming. What a wonderful dream. You're really flying one. Do you know what the dream meant? No. What did it mean? That you were still asleep and that you won't wake up until someone like me makes a decision to decide, to decide to get you a hiding. Okay. It's not your fault. It's the thought of the not-need author who made you a master to spend your time dreaming while I spend around you waiting for you with a sleeve biting away. Stop it, stop it, can't you? You do hit me like that. I am your flip flop. That gives you the right to hit me. Who are you? What a free country, isn't it? What do you mean by waking me up? What do you think? So we can get to work on the first act. How are we going to work? Well, you're the master and I'm the flip flop. I'm flip flop and you're the master. But really, how can I be a master just like that? Where's my mansion? Where are the servants? Where are the gardens, the finer horses, the grand visitors? The harem, where's all the pomp and glory? Here it is, all the pomp and glory. You little rat like you. So here, you'd better watch your step. The acting hasn't begun yet and I haven't yet gotten into character with the part. When I have really become flip flop, you can call me as many names as you like. Alright, get into character at once or I'll show you what are you in character? I'm not quite. Finished? You swine of a flip flop. What's now? It's just I haven't gotten into, you know, my character properly yet. And now? I think so, I know. I'll finish it. Just you be careful, that's all. Still haven't recovered from the fright you just gave me. Sure you're in character already. Oh yes. Don't worry. Completely. Everything's okay. Absolutely and fine. You flip flop and I'm the master. Exactly. You flip flop and I'm the master. And you are the master. And you are a flip-flaps master. Everything is fine. Got a cigarette and flip flop? I've been dying for one whole day. And what stopped you from having one if you wanted one so much? What do you think stops a person having a cigarette when he's dying for one? A sore throat I suppose. That's right. A sore throat. Do you have a cigarette then? Yes I have. Good. Let's have one then. Fine. Hand over and I'll go get some. Where from? The shop. You said you had one. I have. In the shop. But they want a half a dollar for them. Whatever I have no money. No money tonight either. 500 plays I've done with you and not once have you made the mistake of acting like your real true master. Putting your hand in your pocket and saying, you flip flop, take this and enjoy yourself with it. What sort of a master do you think you are? Now really honestly I don't have anything on me. Alright, put out your tongue then. Now if you've been lying to me, it won't go in again. The master tries to put his tongue in his mouth once more but he cannot. He just stipulates to flip flop, pointing to his tongue but flip flop takes a little notice of it. Don't do it. It hasn't gone in my habit. It's nothing to do with me. You brought it on yourself. Why did you lie? It's nothing to do with me my friend. This is something between you and your tongue. I have nothing to do with it. Are you sorry? Okay, do you have money on you? Do you have money on you? Okay, how much? Three pounds? Three piesters? Three half piesters? What then? Okay, alright, let's put your tongue back in and see what it is you have. Well, what is it then? Three millions. Oh, what a lovely master. Can I have a cigarette now? No, a cigarette indeed. Let's stop all this nonsense and get properly into character without rules and get started. If the offer comes along and finds a sitting fooling about like this, we'll be in real trouble, okay? I'm the master, isn't that right? That's right. So I'm the master, but what about me? What's my name? Why don't you ask the one who's thought you up? But you're the person who knows. Come on, what's my name? Your name's Master and that's all. But who's ever heard of a master without a name? Flip-flop, my man. I order you to find me a dignified name. Pick up some name that will suit a master like me. That's not my job. I have to take delivery review, ready named. Anyway, all names sound funny or ugly in some way. You'll do much better to leave yourself as you are, just known as the master. Oh, there you go. Let's forget the name. How about the work? What about it? Well, what exactly is my work? You work as my master. Oh, no, I'm your master. I have to have some definite occupation. Look here, you choose a nice respectable position for me. Something really impressive. Okay, okay. You can be a patriotic man of independent beings in a small way, of course. Have anything prior. Okay. How about being an intellectual? What did they do where you come from, these intellectuals? They don't do anything. They don't do anything? Well, you're asking that choice if you're not an intellectual. Okay. What else is there then? How about being an artist? An artist? Yes. What does that mean, I do? You'll just be an artist without art. Are there any artists, anyway, or without art? Lots and lots of them. They're as common as fleas. Let's see, what about being a songwriter? I just won't go about that. Nothing simple. You go to the spice dealers and fill one of your pockets with the jealousy of my arrivals. And another pocket with what the other girls all say. And then another with I can't sleep at night. Another one, it's my own cutie. Gives me my wound. And if you can't find any of that, you can make do with a wound that hasn't been cured or a clutch of eyelashes in your breath bucket or a handful of Tuscan beauty with a pinch of light white loveliness. What do I do with all these things, I hear? Pedal it around among the singers and a sort of bunch here and a little paper back full there. That should set you up nicely. I didn't forbid you to find this some more respectable job. I know what. How about being an author like that one of yours? How flippant. Don't get excited. How about being a lawyer? What will I have to do exactly? You'd have to appeal to the court's sense of justice so that they give judgments in your favor. And what if they don't? Well, we'll have our retainers be angry. No, I think I'll be the prosecutor. What? This fellow who makes a job of always making unkind accusations against people will know far better if you were a... My fellow, I don't know anything about medicine. You think doctors do? Please do hurry up and find me a job. I've got it. How about being an accountant? You save people money off their taxes and then you fake it yourself. I will really know. I know, that's the thing for you. The very thing. How about being a football player? No, impossible. You need a skill to do that. Skill? Go off and play on the streets, can't you? Are you trying to insult me? The street? That's all the skill you need. Just throw away your books, forget your studies completely and stop to play for a year or two on the streets until you get to be like 16 or 17 years old in the junior profession, they call it. All of a sudden you will find that someone has discovered you. Some nice captain will come along and look at you and say what a fine lad you are. Bravo, champ! And then can't you see the stand all filled with your fans screaming? Go! That football stuff is just for children. Can't you suggest a single job where a man can earn his keep but the sweat of his brain? That's a thief. That's a good idea. Would you prefer to be big, middle-sized or small? I said that needs an answer. A big thief, of course. Then you must work in the government. Important. I suppose I want to be in middle-sized. Then start up a cooperative society. No thanks. How about a small-time thief? That's the wretched fellow who steals by the sweat of his brow. He climbs up a drainpipe to break into a house, takes someone's wallet, and it turns out to be empty, that sort of thing. Oh, no thanks. I know. I'll be a grave digger. Oh, no. Really? Yes. And be on the very edge of this world so that if your foot slips, you topple over into the hereafter? It's better than being a thief. Oh, my God. No. Better be a thief. I know. I'll be a police informer. What? One of these men, everyone knows to be an informer why he thinks nobody knows but him. Being a taxi driver. Can you drive well? Yes, of course. Do you know all the streets of Cairo? Yes, street by street. And can you go from an hour for an hour without swearing? Oh, yes. Then you're unfit to be a taxi driver. What's wrong with you? Are you crazy or something? There's nothing pleases you. Are you some sort of a newspaper critic? What's wrong with you? All these jobs our Lord created and might not be to you. How do these other people live then? Haven't they jobs they're happy and contented with? If they were happy, would they have come here? Who told you they aren't happy? Why are you amongst ourselves about it? They're here, right in front of us. Let us ask them. There are people down there, all of you. Not one. Not one. You liar, you bloody liar. There's one over there. Why don't you stand up so we can get a good look at you? And that the audience stands up, his hands still in the air. You're happy with the occupation, are you? Oh, yes. Very, very happy. And what do you do exactly? I'm looking for a job. Some are happy. Why do they go on working? Out of disgust. They work out of disgust. Yes, what's strange about that? Do you find they work anything but disgusting? I mean the best work is the most disgusting. Oh, that does it. That's how it's done. I should work as a great digger. Come on then, let's get going. Okay, and where are you off to? To work. To do what? Lesson used ourselves. Digging a grave or two to pass the time to play. Fine master, you make. A very fine master. You can find almost anything ready made in the world except grays. And they have to be made to order. Where's the corpse we'll be digging the grave for? Oh, he's here. Where? He'll be here soon. He's probably just a moment crossing his street not watching where he's going or taking a ferry or driving a lorry where he's stoned or on his way to the Dermedash hospital just an hour. He'll be brought along. So you have a guarantee of that in your pocket, do you mean? Why, of course. Especially the one on his way to the Dermedash hospital. He's absolutely sure and certain. So much for the Dermedash, but is there Kasselainen? No, no, Kasselainen isn't it. The sick are dead before they can even get in there. You're absolutely sure you'll have a course? I'm certain. There's nothing easier today than death. But just the other day someone I know fell down, dead while trying to shave. The one I know about is more striking. He died trying to be born. Poor thing, no time to live. You mean no time to die? I mean to live. You call this a life? When people live adjust to die? It's a joke. And a flat one too? That seems to be it, but the tragedy is we don't know it. And the best thing for us is to turn it inside out. So that it becomes what? So that it becomes at least a funny joke. How do you mean? Instead of living to die, we at least die to live. How do you mean time to live? At least to make it a good joke. Instead of expecting to live and being always afraid that death is going to spring on us, we expect to die. So we'll be pleased at the end of the day we live through. And when we come to die, it won't make any difference. The best thing is for everyone to work as grave diggers. There will still be one problem. Who will they bury? They can bury each other. Do you trust me with that? Don't they spend all day and out digging graves for each other? Good luck my friend. You're speaking like something of a philosopher. Me? The very idea. Me behaving like one of that crowd when I think how I wasted my life reading about philosophy. One time I spent a year reading both. All they convinced me of in the end was that I did exist. You are very fond of philosophy, were you? Not at all. I was just looking for a job to do. I was reading to find out what would be the best work and what. The only result was that I wasted my time reading a lot of silly trash. What did they write about? The tragedy of a man. Being and non-being. The moment of decision, free will and intuition. Intuition. I wanted the philosophy to tell me what I should do with my stuff. Me. Flip. Flap. The human being. The one who hurt if I pinched myself. Tell me what work to do and why. But no one could tell me. The result was that here I am now working as Flip Flap. A few more lines like that and you'll discover you're a poet. One of that gang who praised hunger to the skies when they're well fed and contentment when they're hungry, they spout poetry when they're in pain and when they're really happy they claim to feel lost. When they're in love they curse love and then when they fall out of it they curse all those who aren't in love. No, no, please. Keep me from all of them. I beg you. What a miserable fellow. Poets express the things that make people suffer. And you think that's clever? You think it's the one who bears up against pain who's the clever one? Neither is very clever. Not the one who complained, nor the one who puts up with it. Well, who's that? You really want the truth? You want to know who is really clever? Yes. The really clever fellow? The one who commits suicide. Oh, that's just silly. The mystic who gives everything up? That's just because he doesn't know how to cope with things. The one who just exists and leaves it all at that? That's not life to me. That's a living death. Well, then who's it really clever? Who? I don't know. I've just been pulling your leg all the time. That makes you the clever one. Oh, come on. Is anyone at all clever? Let's go on with our work. We've only chosen your job. Come on, the time's slipping away. Haven't chosen anything. What could we have done? Just like all the rest of mankind, when we're left in despair with only one solution, we tell ourselves that this is the one we really want to choose. Should I start digging then? Of course. Without a corpse? But wasn't it you who said... All right, all right. Let's get to work. That's life, I suppose. But look here. I have to have all my job right. We have no arbitrary clauses and no punishment without investigation or any nonsense of that sort. You understand? I like that. I'd like to know my rights and we have rights one hand by itself cannot clap. Don't we agree, all of you? It's we who sweat, so it's we who must get the result of our sweat. Don't you agree, man? Sweaters of the world unite! How about justifying some of that by little work? It's best to get things straight at first, knowing your rights. At work is useful if you ever get the push I don't like to be mean to others nor others to me. Is that clear or not? Clear. Stubborn. Stubborn. Fun. There's the matter. Get to work. Time to do the work. Who else did you think? You. Oh no, I'm your master. It's you that works for me. But what about the work contract and meanness and the fact and all that? Oh yes, that's all in force. For me? Oh no, for me. Why for you? Isn't it me who's going to do the work? Oh, but I'm going to work as well. What work will you do? I'm going to work as your master. And what will you do exactly? I'm master, master it over it. Master it over me, will you? Fine job that is. Oh no you don't. Master it over me indeed. Where do you think we are? I won't even get the finger at it. I swear at it. That's your role, don't you see that? Trying to play the fool, are you? Don't you know the way the play is? You mean to plot is. I have to do all the work and you do nothing but be master. Still trying to play the fool. Whoever could have made up such a damn silly play. I bet it was you who thought of it. That's quite clear. You've never helped write the play before. Author, Mr. Auger. What's wrong? What happened? Have you dared deviate from the text? Yes. This land flip-flap has you worshiped my being. His master doesn't appeal to him. Well how so? It does not appeal to him indeed. How dare he? Hands up, here's is it. Is it you? You are the master, right? And there's the end of it. That's the end of it. And you are flip-flap. So there it is. Is that clear? Or is it not? That's clear. Mm-hmm. Good, good. And the next time you disturb me in this manner, how do you go at once? Is that clear? Only you won't feel dutch. Oh, well take care not to add a single syllable of your own. It shall be work. Yes, sir. Speak. Yes, sir. Come. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. You'll be on your way now, sir. Yes. I get the message. Why on earth did you have to do bring up all that? You just wait till he's gone. Okay. I'm going now. And until next time. There won't be a next time. Mm-hmm. There won't. We reformed. We realized we did wrong. Take care. You take care not to forget to send us the mistress. I swear. I swear. I swear that should be the master. Right. Now you swine of a master. I will show you. Come on, flip flap. Don't waste any more time. Take the matter and get down to work. That's life, I suppose. Let's get to work. This matter is about to dig. Here. What's this? Don't dig here. Where abouts then? Over there. Why there? because I want you to dig over there. And why the hell is there and not here? Because as long as you want to dig here, I want you to dig here. Then my here is always better than your here. And in what divine book was that revealed? As long as I'm your master, my opinion will always be better than yours. Even if my opinion is right, and yours is wrong. Do you think there's a right opinion and a wrong opinion, my boy? That opinion that's right is mine. And that opinion that's wrong is yours. But I don't agree. Then you're wrong. Just like that, without any disagreement, without any discussion. Me and I dig here. Did I see you there? Whereabouts then? No. Over there, I meant idiot. Here? Is there the same as here? I say here. Just as you like. Here? What unbelievable stupidity. I said here, you tie. That means here. Don't you know here means here? No, I don't. What does here mean? Here. The real truth of the master is that, of the master is that I just don't understand. Do you? All I really understand is that I'm your master and that's all. Master, you master, for heaven's sake, tell me master. What do you want? For heaven's sake, why are you my master? You don't know why I'm your master, then. May I be changed into something lying on the ground like that if I'm not? What a clown you are, flip-flap. Don't you really know why I'm your master? No, I don't, do you? It's just that not to know is part of my job. Why are you a flip-flap? You are my flip-flap, and so you must do the knowing for me. The fact is, this is a particular thing I don't know. And I don't either. So my don't know will override your doner. So what now? Why on earth are you asking all this now? After we've acted a thousand plays together. Aren't I allowed to ask? All right, ask the author. What's it got to do with me? It's he who invented you, and he's the one to deal with you. Why mix up with me in it? But this is a matter of reason. It doesn't need any author or anything. Aren't you a human being just like me? Why, if we're to believe Darwin, you developed from an ape, and I did just the same. Oh, who knows? Maybe that ancestor of yours was working as an ancestor's flip-flap. But apes don't have masters and flip-flaps. So you agree with me that it's only humans who are able to become masters and flip-flaps? Who said that? Well, that's my opinion. And if you don't like it, ask the author. Nobody left longer ago. Call him out, Farley. Hey, author, author. People like you fool. Don't you know all authors like to be respected under here? And flattered, especially flattered. Your honor, the author, your worship, the author, you best finest, biggest, the greatest, stoutest author. Author enters now in the form, now in the form of a small boy, or, if preferred, a little person. Only half as tall as the previous author. He still wears short trousers. What do you want, flip-flap? Are you the author? What do you mean? Have you been rendering service to another author? Not for good? Not for good. We aren't at that sort, your excellency, but it seems perhaps almost as if you've got a little, I mean, just a little smaller. Well, mine did not be the reverse flip-flap, and that you were the ones that have gotten bigger. How about that? The author is getting smaller because his characters are going bigger. It would be funnier if the characters are getting bigger because the author is getting smaller. If you would be so good now, your excellency, would you mind telling flip-flap why I am the master? Yes, please. As if that means ask you, it's just a fact like the sun, the moon, the hellfire, yes? What, what, next you becoming and asking me why I am the author? Ah, so that's funny. My play doesn't contain any whys. It contains only yeses. Is that clear? Why? Yes, I mean yeses. Now, look here. I know very well all these tricks of yours, yes, and you'll not stop them until someone throws you out into the street one day. Now, see here. This is your master, and there's no whys or buts about it. And you are flip-flap without fuss or bother. You need only a vague everything he tells you. Otherwise, enter two enormous thugs wearing your test masks. I will make them throw you out. Outside, you understand? You hear a flip-flap? Yes, I hear. Three times over. I hear one for you, one for you, and one for the thugs. It's all over now. Goodbye. Author turns to me, walks a few paces, then faces flip-flap and stares hard at him. I know I'm- It's the seventh scene of the tenth act, a bang. Oh wow, I know it all, but don't forget to send them a kiss. I swear, I swear, I swear. Well, bye-bye. I hope you have a nice trip. Have you ever wrote that flip-flap? Whether I've read it or I didn't, never mind. That's how it is. Now, where were we? Shall we get to work? Oh no, I just couldn't do any work. Now, I'm tired. And what about you, tired? That work? Oh, I'm sure you want to be exhausted. You'll just have to take a rest. I don't want to take a rest. What do you want then? I want to get married. What? To get married. Don't you understand what that means? Well, what's stopping you? Go on, get married, or do you want me to do the getting married for you? Why not? Aren't you my flip-flap and I'm your master? Please, master. Please, not that. You tell me to break stones and I'll do it, or pound pebbles to powder and I'll do that, but this marriage business is just too much. What? What's it to you? You're not getting married for yourself, you're just getting married for me. Who knows? I might be convicted of it and sentenced. Now, flip-flap, do as I say. There's no need for it. You're fine, healthy, and happy as you are. Do you want to upset everything for yourself? None of us can do without marriage, flip-flap. So you do you without your life itself just to get married? Flip-flap. Or get married for me, and who do I marry for you? How should I know? That's your job to find someone. Do you want me to do the work of a flip-flap as well? You mean I have to go and hunt around for a bride, get her consent, get engaged, go through the wedding, and... As far as you will have to go, and then you can put the brakes on it. Oh, you leave me all the thorns while you pick up the rose. All made, and ready for yourself. Oh, you are a mean master. Old master, something like that. Go on, get to work. That's like I suppose. I'd have to find you a bride. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry. Ladies only. I mean, girls, young maids, old maids, any kind of maids, and even hot maids. I am a husband for you. He comes from a good family, has an important position, enjoys unnecessarily good health, is fond of a quiet life, and his favorite hobby is sleeping. He's looking for a wife, anyone but any offers. Is there any lady who's a good housekeeper, has a nice, rosy complexion, holds a family life in high respect and who's hobbies are using a skipping rope and reading love stories? Isn't there any? Well. How do you stop talking, keep going. Now shall I keep going, there's no one knocked at the door. No one at all. No one. What now? Nothing doing. I plead with his honor the author who does nothing but intimidate me. And I asked him not to forget to send her, but you see, he has forgotten. Who knows what installment he's busy with now or where he's broadcasting from. He's probably managed to reach the transmitter at Abu Zaba without budging from his favorite seat at the angle bar. But isn't she supposed to come along and not just now? Supposed to, only seems to apply to me. As for him, did you hear someone knock? Listen now. I'm afraid the knocking is only in your head, master. Well, what now? Are you happy at a swing around like this in front of everyone looking like a retwashing machine on a winter's day? No, I'm not happy. But I'll tell you what, I've had an idea. Why don't we just forget about that mistress of his and marry you off to one of those ladies out there? The very idea. You're just, but they're just spectators. They came to watch not to get married. Oh, it begins like that. You go along to watch and then soon you find yourself in fact within a marriage. There they are in front of you. Choose the one that appeals to you. You mean I have to steal myself and actually make a choice? Oh, wow, so believe them. What do you think of that one over there in the flat? Or that one? Oh, she's obviously not bad at all. Oh, no, no, wait. How about that one sitting there over there? You mean that one sitting there? Yes, that one. That's my mother, man. Right, all right. How about that one? Which one? The one with the red scarf around her neck. That one? Yes, that's right. That red thing has really got me. That you blind donkey is a tie wearing a man. Oh, all right. That one over there? She's married. How do you know that? Can't you see she has two men with her? I'm hopeless. I give up. You choose for me. On one condition. What's that? That I try her first. Well, perhaps not. Ah, there we are. I found her for you. Wait a minute. That one sitting down there in the front stalls on the right. I can see her. Whereabouts on the right in the front stalls? You see that dignified man there picking his teeth? I've got him. Yeah, turn sharp right when you get to him. Do you see her now? I can't really, but it's all right. I'll take her. Just like that? Without even having a look at her? Enough for me that she's in the front stalls. She must be well fed her. Do you hear that, ladies in the back stalls? Just two shillings more, but a husband. You imagine, you down there sitting in the front row. Would you mind looking up at us here, up here? Are you talking to Simone? Not you. I'm talking to the moon. Oh, what a common little man. What do you want of me? Will you marry my master? My word? You're the very heart and soul of your master's flip flap, are you? You idiot, that's not the way to talk to her. You would scare her off like that. Better let me take over. Excuse me, my name. You clear off? OK, go away and sit down. Can't you? This is my job. Didn't you say it was me who had to work? And here you are trying to act as a flip flap now? Preserve your dignity, can't you? And act like a master. Will you marry my master? But what is he, your master? 100 kilograms weight or thereabouts. And what is his job? So that's where the awkwardness starts. Would you just mind stepping across here for a minute? I'm not budging from my seat till I know what he does. Well, he's sort of the opposite of a midwife, you might say. If not what he does that I care about, is he any money? Bad. I mean, bad. I'm bad. But then, in principle, I'm coming. What's he called, this master of yours? Yes, as far as the name goes. You can call him whatever you want. But where is he from? I hope he doesn't have an unsuitable surname. It's neither suitable nor unsuitable. He doesn't got one at all. That's rather low. But anyway, I'm willing to let him use my family name. I am the feather brain. The feather brain? No? Wait. You have my family, the feather brain. No? Of course, of course. The feather brain are a fraction of the feather brain everywhere you look. But there's one thing very important. If there's one thing I want there, it's my freedom. I cannot allow anyone to obstruct my movements. Is your master reactionary? Obstruct your movements, reactionary. I don't understand. If he has anything against me staying out until 2 in the morning or later, then he's all right with me. If he wants me home early, I need a reactionary. You have to worry. He's a very heavy sleeper. And will you let me keep my friends, my gentlemen friends? Well, I don't really know. And I wouldn't want to lie to you. Even in that respect, my demands are very important. Why, my girlfriend made her husband let her take a boyfriend with her from the honeymoon. Mom, she was right, of course. What's wrong with a better friend when he does whatever he does is just a bit of a boy. And that's all settled. Will you marry my master? I have no objection. We can get married for a month as a child and if we don't work out, I get a divorce. But, Madam, even civil servants have a three-month trial period. How can you get divorced after only a month supposing something were to happen during that month anyway? So what, I can have an appendicitis or a tonsillocation? But I mean, ah, I mean that too. But what's the connection between tonsils, appendix and what we're discussing? I don't know. We go to the hospital, we always call it appendicitis. Or something, tonsillitis, I always say that. Are you all right? What is one to do, eh? They once reported in the papers that I had two appendicitis operations in one month. It's reported in the papers too. Oh, we, we, we don't like to do anything secretively. Everything's done above board. So how often have you had this appendix operation then? Ah, I think you cannot remember. Seven or eight times, perhaps. And the tonsils? Oh, I'm sure, I haven't counted. When I think of that one, last time, was it appendix or tonsils? Neither. A gallbladder, an absolutely blissful gallbladder that had been ushering out the hospital one week and sent me back the next. Hurry up, master, master. We haven't fallen asleep again, have we? What happened? Where are we? Uh, uh, uh, uh, who are you? This is the bride, master. You couldn't have drunk of a finer one. She could be beauty from one of the best families in Egypt. The feather brains, yes, and in a very clean condition too. No tonsils, no appendix, no gallbladder, no destiny either. If anything else doesn't appeal to you, she's willing to rub it out two, twice, three times. Doesn't matter, what do you think? Well, uh, do you like her flip-flop? I dreamt of the heel of her shoe forever and a day, but it's all a matter of temperament. Find out, flip-flop, whether or not she'll appeal to my temperament. Does she appeal to you, his temperament? Yes, yes, yes, she does. Did you hear with your own ears? Yes, I heard. Come on, then, marry us, flip-flop. I have to be the notary, too. Come on, give me your hand, mother and your master. Silence, everyone. Do you, master, known to all by the name of master, agree to marry us? Here, what's that flip-flop? You're in there, you're doing the acting. Oh, that's good, that must be the message for all of us. Shall we open or shall I, you know, take no notice? You want her to make a scandal? Open for her. Open up. And this one? Don't you worry, we'll make her understand everything. Abracadabra. Hey, presto, open. That's me, the door is open. Goodness gracious. Are you deaf, didn't you hear me? I'm not even a good in this gracious glory, what is this, what is this? That deaf strike can't choose, I can talk to you. Aren't you the people in the play? There's some sort of a loon and you just look that way. Your Arthur meant me, we had a drink together and he sent me over to you for this part. What, oh, oh, I see. So I'm to come from miles away, just for her to steal my parts, am I? Now madam, I will call you. This is just a lady's presentation. And she's just watching, what is she doing up here on the stage if she wants to wash, why does she go down there with the rest of the audience? The part here is up here, that's for us, why doesn't she go to her seat? I did not leave my place to come up here to be driven away by scum like you. And then what does the leadership intend to stay here for? You're gonna act with us. I'm waiting for my husband here. We are engaged and we are just getting married. That's a fine thing I must say and so what have I come here to do? It's my part to marry him. You want to pinch it, not on your life. You're gonna go quietly, or should I scratch your eyes out? How can you stand there and let her talk to me that way? Would you expect me to do flip-flop, my boy, why don't you get moving, do some thinking. You can find a way out too. The only way out, master. The only way out is for this one to marry you and that one to marry me. That's with self everything, really. Me marry you, and I'm gonna jump that badly, you. My part is to get married to him and so long as that's my part, that's the one I shall play. I think when he tries to prevent me, I'd better watch out. Oh, well watch out. Yourself, but expect me to crawl back to my seat with nothing to show because of a creature like you. I'll have you know I practice judo at the club every morning. Oh indeed, and I can show you some of our local tricks too. Okay, okay. How can a lovely creature like you even think of fighting a pretty, fainted doll like her? As you be careful, I'm very, very strong as you may have noticed that I easily lose my temper. Let me go, just you let me get out of here, you mad amangie bitch. Okay, you've got it wrong, feather rain is her name. Lush in one, let go of me. And what did you say? Can't you think of some way out? You have pretty cats, you. I'm championing all over, my brain and sense is in a chamber. How can I think? Say, listen everybody, there's one way out. Let's all stop fighting and we'll all be happy. Are you going to marry me? Are you going to marry me? I shall marry the better of you. Oh, you would of course marry me. I am the superior one. What was that good heavens? One of my toenails is with more than all of you, feather brain. No, no, no, no, that's no good at all. Instead of fighting, I want each of you to show me why, which way she's better. Who's knocking? That must be the one who's to marry Flip Flavre The author sent her with me and I left her outside to come in here first to see that everything was all right. Then I met Madame here. The one who's to marry me. Oh, that's awfully nice of the author, isn't it? What does she look like? There's no time for that now. Go on and open. Do that, I'm shy. Go and open the door, I tell you. All right, I suppose I have to, but I'm shy all the same and I shirk lift my eyes from the floor. Flip Flavre goes very shyly over to the door looking at his feet the entire time. When he opens the door, there walks in a tall, thin, ugly man dressed as a woman in a flowing black gown, a black headcloth, and a black veil with a red bead over the noseband. Do please come in, Madame. You are very welcome. Please come in. Oh, well. Are you too shy to come in? Aren't you Flip Flavre? Yes, and that's why I'm shy too. Why don't we stop being timid and take a good look at each other? All right, let's. He lifts her veil and tosses it behind her head, looking up at Flip Flavre who is also lifting his face. Oh my God. Oh, are you still shy, Flip Flavre? Are you the timid type? That fellow told me you were a real charmer and I have, and I just love them like that. Come here. She tries to grab Flip Flavre and he slips away. For heaven's sake, Master, leave this woman away from me. Why not even the chief of police can keep you from me? You can't hear my love. I fell for you as soon as I saw you. If only you wouldn't keep slipping away. You like that splee from place to place. Help me. There's someone. No matter what you do, I will say, I lay my hand snugly in yours. I'll cut my hand off sooner than that. You now. In that case, you can't hear you. Police, fire, I'm going to. I'm your hands, sanitary inspector. Fetch out the DDT. Oh, do you really think you can get away from me? Not ever, if you can see the back of your own head. Well, it's hard. Sooner see that than see you offer the love of God. Help, women, there's are you. I'm a woman. An attractive one, too. Oh, no, it's me who's a woman. I'm not going to be a man anymore. A woman has to be like you. I agree, then, that I'm a woman. Whichever of you is more attractive. I'll show you how I'm more attractive. Strike out my strut. The orchestra plays Arabic music for a belly dance. The actress dances, doing her best to rouse the master. Whenever Clifclat looks at her or takes a step nearer to her, he is violently pulled back by the woman in black. When the actress has finished her belly dance, the master rushes towards her in a daze. But the lady's spectator hauls him back. What a vulgar sort of dance with you just looking at it like that. A man like you have to join in like this with me. Maestro! Western pop music. The lady's spectator dances a frog wildly and forces the master to join her. He is so worked up by this that he forgets his eagerness over the first dance. When the music stops, he remains with his arms around the lady's spectator. I hope none of this cave we're about impresses you, Clifclat. You and I are going to play at single six. They spend at single sticks. Clifclat receives numerous blows all over his body. At the end of the game, he falls into a faint in the arms of the woman in black. Come on! See how I can wear new clothes? That's not where I am. I'm down to the top. That's enough from you two. Now, as for you two ladies, I must say I feel very confused. I don't know which to take and which to live or which to love or which to marry. Therefore, I propose to marry you both. What do you think? What do you expect? You filthy boon dog, love. My little man, big amist. You mean you don't want to marry me? Who ever said that? Who ever said I wouldn't accept you, thief? No. No, go with you. No, no, I cannot accept you, thief. No. My best congratulations. Well done. The very, very best of luck. The master puts an arm around each of the ladies and walks off right with them. Their arms are around his neck and they are scuffling with each other with their hands. Flip Flap attempts to slip off stage, masked by then, but the woman in black takes him by the scrub of the neck and pulls him back. And now you, Flip Flap. What do you say? Oh, and with all things rest in peace, amen. Oh, what a thing to say. Is someone dead? I am. Oh, heaven forbid. While I'm with you, no one dead won't dare come near you. But you're deaf, you're a thief. Oh, my angel. You come to me. Come. The woman in black picks him up and carries him on her shoulder through the left exit. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. The master enters now, rubbing his face as though with an odour cologne after a hot bath. Oh, what a wonderful thing this marriage is. A million times better than being bachelor. Flip Flap enters, wearing a bandage around his head with a large blood stain on it. What on earth has marriage done to you, Flip Flap? You haven't done stitches so far. That's what. Trouble with people like you is you don't know the art of living. You don't know how to butter her up, stroke her and pat her and cover her to be to her properly. You should be more playful with her. And what do you think happened when I did just that? How did you get hurt? She was sleeping back at me, but eventually, she split my forehead. Oh, when I met her, the most beautiful thing you know. You're right there, but they have to be female women. I imagine how I feel at being about to become two fathers today. Why, I could jump for joy. A father twice over? Yes. All at one go? All at one go. For jolly good show. Aren't you going to have a child, Flip Flap? If I had a baby, that would be fair enough. But she, to have a baby, that's certainly unbelievable. You think she can have a child just like any other woman, personally, I don't. Congratulations, dear. It's a boy. A boy, see? Congratulations, my pet. It's a girl. It's a girl. Isn't she lovely? Congratulations, Flip Flap. You have a child. A boy. A boy. They enter carrying a man on her shoulder. He is crying like a child and gesticulating for food. She gives him a big onion and bread. The child breaks open the onion on her head and swallows the bread in two gulps. Oh, just look at your son, Flip Flap. Wouldn't you like to rock it for a little while? Oh, come on, do rock it. Flip Flap reluctantly plays with the child. Please excuse me now, my love. It's time for the baby to be fed. I must go change her nappy. She's got a little wear. Now please don't forget to get what I asked you. And don't forget the five pounds you promised me for today. Listen, Flip Flap, we have to get a child for the boy. You know, to protect him from the evil eye. Wouldn't harm him if it did get him. I'm just warning you, he needs a child. And only the wise man can give it. And he will want two shillings. And if you don't get the money by midday, I'll knock your socks off. I wish a judge bummer would settle your hash and offer my brook off for 10 piasters. Think it's a coconut or something? Well, what now? I don't know how many days you've been sitting here watching the flies without a single corpse to bury. It must be an official holiday these days with all the hospital clothes. That never takes a holiday. How do you mean? It doesn't matter. She says if I don't break her some money today, she'll knock my brook off. She's always, oh, she always means what she says. Can't you find us a way out? Me? What's your job then? Well, what do you want me to do? Get us a corpse we can work on. And where am I to find one, huh? You mean I should borrow one, perhaps? Tell me, neighbor. Do you have a corpse you could lend me till the beginning of the month? Now if there's not all I want you to do is find us a corpse. However, you do it. I'll help you. There's a simple solution. Kill someone and bury him here. Kill someone? You must have gone off to your head. You want me to kill someone so that we can bury him for a few shillings? And for even less than that, if you don't find someone, I'll kill you myself, understand? We need money. We need work. Either you kill someone or bring the corpse here or I'll kill you. So that's the way it is then? That's it? Are you serious? That's serious. You're not joking, are you? When I say I'm serious, I'm serious. Oh my god, he's serious? He really means it. Oh no, I suppose I'll just have to kill someone for you. Here, you want to kill someone? You murderers, you killers. There's someone here who wants to die. Who would like to kill him? I'm sure it seems like someone wants to be killed. Just what we want to. Kill him up. Call him up. Go, go, go, go, go, go, go. Hi. Yep, you call me? I'm waiting for you for ages. Come on. Where are you? We're on the third floor. Do you mind not making me come up there unless you're serious? Because if you really mean to murder someone, then I'll come. But if you don't, there's plenty of other places. I wonder why he sounds so gruff. No, that's all right. We really do mean to. Well, here I am. Now look, I'm in a rather hurry, if you don't mind. Where would you like me to lie here? Or should I sit on that chair for you? Or would you like me to lie down? God, why don't you take things a little easier? I'm in a hurry, I tell you. Do you have a weapon ready? Do you have a gun, or do you prefer knives and such faces? What is all this? Take it easy, I tell you. I don't like all this beating around the bush when I go to work. Do you intend to kill me or don't? Thank you. OK, then what are you waiting for? Do you have, I don't know, what do you think we should do? Let's do it calmly and with understanding. And what is it we have to reach an understanding about? Well, this is really very odd. What are you, anyway? Do you want to commit suicide or submit suicide? Who said I did? Wow, why have you come near wanting to be put to death in a flash like this? Well, what's wrong with that? It's just that I'm a bit hot-headed and when I have a job to do, I can't wait until it's finished. All right, so you're hot-headed about your work, but this isn't work, this isn't a joke. This is a matter of death. It may be death as far as you're concerned, but to me it's worth it. Work? Yes, don't you like the idea? It's not a matter of whether I like the idea or not. It's that I've never heard of a job like that before. No, I never have, but I swear to God, I haven't. Well, that says maybe, anyway, it's my job. It's your job to die. That's right. Fantastic, what an odd job. Oh, millions of people do it. Why, when our boss announced he had vacancies, people came flocking in. They were pulling strings to get the job, too. Your boss. That's right, there's a group of us you see, and we all work for and all found for a boss. And our boss has a few enemies, and any time they come to kill him, he sends us out to die as quick. And how is business at present? Everything's going fine, I know. Oh, no, really hopeless these days. One day there's work, but then for months on end there isn't any. I don't know, I must say, it all sounds pretty silly to me. What's it for you? It's all a matter of supply and demand. We, who are willing to die, there's been many of us, but those who are willing to kill, they're in short supply. No, no, really, things are pretty bad. Everyone's afraid to kill these days. People are always running off to the courts or the security council. It's really disgusting. You, too. You were disgusted, too. Oh, yes, completely. I got so disgusted, I was, I don't know. Why did you do that? Well, I thought I'd try to set up on my own. Don't you see, there's really nothing like being an independent. What do you mean, you're independent? Oh, I wonder about offering my corpse, and who knows, I may be looking up to find someone to put an end to me. What an odd business. Work is a great divider and learn. Oh, really? You don't think there's anything new in this, do you? Or is it just because I'm a small-timer with only myself to sell? Surely you've heard of the foreign legion. They're really the same profession when you think about it. The only difference is that they're foreigners, and we are. Yeah, I suppose, but if you don't mind me saying so, no matter how much I respect your opinion, I couldn't do your job myself. Why not? It's not a job. It's suicide, as if anyone could work and it's time to get good. No, you're wrong. It's the best job there is, and it's a job where you do it just once a lifetime, and that's that. It's not a job you have to do every day for years on a diet, and anyway, you must leave that. Who do you think is madder? The man who wants to take a jet or the man who ambles along on a camel? Now look, I've not got any more time to spare, and I'm a man who doesn't like spending your own gossiping, so here I am. My neck is at your disposal and my life flow. I tell you, take them, go on, get on with it. All right. What's the meaning? And who shall we give it to? Oh, you needn't worry about any of that. You just stay nice and comfortable here, and tomorrow or the day after, my wife will pass by with a book. It's really old, it's very odd. Supposing they don't believe my story and put me in jail, that will just show what an idiot you are and that you don't know how to take care of yourself. Last day, why don't we just forget about this whole thing? Sure, even this is not the sort of thing for flip-flop like you do worry about. All right. I disagree. I'll take care of it myself, all right? All right, well, here's my laptop. There you are enough, flip-flop. Get to work. Do you hear me? Here's this knife. And what's this got to do with me? Who do you think is going to do the work? Oh, no. Any job like that, I'm just a flip-flop, and no one will have anything to do with this sort of thing. Now, flip-flop, just as I've been telling you all day, either you kill him or I kill you. There's no need for all of this, Shaleesh Ali. Oh, yes, there is. I'll argue until morning rather than do it. Bring me the author, the director. I'll never kill, never, never. Just like your excellence in the author, greatest fondness of authors, flip-flop is giving me trouble again. I'm defying me, flip-flop. I'll scatter you to the winds. I'll burn you to shreds. I'll send my wrappings after you. The tooth ofs, this time in the form of ghosts, appear near the door. What am I to do? Come on, then. Why don't we get it over and done with? This isn't the way to make a living. It's enough to make you sick. Flip-flop, do get to work. That's the author. That's what the author wants, all right. But how am I going to kill him, for I've been sick? How am I to do this? How am I to do you any, Chum? What's up with him anyway standing there like that? How am I to kill him, Master? With that medic over there. But that's for digging, to make a living with him. Isn't this making a living? It's just not right. Imagine someone dugging a medic, digging a medic into someone's neck to make a living. OK. That's life, I suppose. Here we go, then. Be brave, my boy. Hit him. Why don't you be brave and hit him instead? Hate him and hit him. But what am I to hit him for? He's not done anything to me. All right? I hate you, do you hear? OK, I just can't stand you. You worked me up into a fury. No, no, no, no, no, not like that. You have to hate him more than that. He's your enemy. He's against you making a living. OK, well, make up your mind. Is he for my life or my father's enemy or against it? What is he? You are my enemy, OK? You swine. And your father was my father's enemy, OK? And your grandfather's father was my grandfather's father. I'm going to get my own back. List, Madoka, trembles all over. Master goes into a fit of rage. You're just a cowardly slave. This needs a master to do it out of the way, curse you. Why don't you get it over and done with and kill me? If you don't, I'll have to go look for another death. You're putting me out of a job. Listen, my friend, I'm going to make it easy for you. No acts, nor anything like that. I'm going to throw out of you and I don't want any screens or cries for help or any noise at all. Otherwise, I won't kill you. No, you worry. I will die with a smile on my lips. His eyes of yours, they have to look in them. I don't like it. OK, they're shut. Here we go then. He puts his hand around the neck. What's your hand doing? Why are you just kidding me like that for? What's wrong? You're afraid of me, but not of what you're doing. I ain't ashamed of yourself killing him just like that without even saying a prayer over him. Don't you believe in God? Men of the world, the Lord have mercy on your soul now. Put his hands toward man's throat. Upon those on the mercy on you. Flip lap, if you don't shut up, I'll kill you first. Go on, clear out of here. All of you are watching your brother being killed like this. Where are your principles? Where is your sense of justice? Where's the law? That doesn't. Just wait till I get you. He's done that. This isn't the way to make a living, God curse. There they are. I should have gone to a professional and we would have been finished hours ago. Why don't you get this over with? Finish with you and finish you off. I win. Grips his throat, and the action continues with Flip Flap interrupting every time the master seems to be choking the man. With such cries as get off, please help stop him. Help murder him. Flip Flap all the time circled the other two until at last he stops in front of the man and finds that his tongue is hanged down and his eyes popping out. My goodness. He really has a heartache. Get him. Murder. Catch him. He's a murderer. Approaching Flip Flap, having weighed the man on the floor and still frenzied from the kill. Shut up or else. Oh, I shut up. I won't say a word. I'll stay quiet. If I ever speak again, it'll be without saying a word. We're in a terrible business. You've dared to strangle him like this with all these witness looking on. You savage beast. I'm quiet. I'm quite silent. I've been silent for ages. Keep silent, everyone. He's got a mad looking eyes. No, Flip Flap, my man. Flip Flap, my love. Oh, I shut up. Oh, speak up. Oh, no. I've shut up, and that's that. You'd better answer or else. Oh, I reply. Okay, there's no need for that or else. There's no Flip Flap. Yes, master. Where is that man? Why me? Whoever does the burying? You either burying him or I burying you. Wouldn't be easier if you buried him. Okay, I mustn't get you over tired. I'll burying him. Takes a hole for the man and buries him. Finish burying him. Yes, and I've had the recording angels judge him and find him guilty too. Well done. That's the way for Flip Flaps to act. I'm a little upset, Flip Flap, my boy. Upset at me? Ha, ha, ha, ha. Not at you, at myself. It's my conscience. It's bleeding me, boy. Why, master? Do you two have those prickling feelings? Very much so, boy. What shall I do? Better take a lack of it. I'm serious. Don't fool about it. Anyway, take this tenshilling note as the man's fee and take it home to his family. They can buy some meat and vegetables with it. Why go anywhere else to find some meat? Haven't we just sacrificed the cough? The master hands Flip Flap a currency note. He goes towards entrance and then flings it into the air. Take it. Buy yourself some butchers, neat. But take care it hasn't gone stale. How are you now, master? Your conscience still bothering you? Yes, it still does. It wouldn't if you had taken a laxative as I told you. Ah, do you know what I'm going to do? To have to do before my conscience gives me any rest. What? Continue to bring someone else to kill. No, no, no. He's become a vampire. He's not safe at all. It'll be me next time. Listen, I don't give a damn for the author or anyone else. I'm off. I'm leaving you to help you, other ruffians and the lot. I don't care what happens, I'm off. Have you gone mad, Flip Flap? I ordered you to stay. And what right have you got to give me orders? I'm the master. And why are you? Master over what? Why are you my master? I don't know you and I have no master. I'm leaving and that's that. Hey, Flip Flap, my boy. I'm leaving and that's that. It's the second act. It's for you and whoever made you the master to do as you wish. I'm off. Goodbye. It's enough to make your blood boil. Fancy Flip Flap like that, forcing me to stand here alone. What am I to say and do now? Where can I find him? Where should I look for him, ladies and gentlemen? I don't suppose any of you has seen Flip Flap. I've even caught the glimpse of him in Flip Flap. Oh, Flip Flap, this is the finest part to leave me in. You're all happy about this? Flip Flap enters from the back of the auditorium, makes his way down the center aisle pushing a hand heart on which are surrealistic models representing Europe, America, and bits and pieces of guns, aircraft, and gallows. Any old iron, any old iron, anything old for sale? Any old lord for sale? Any old majesty for sale or drag? Anyone got a hydrogen bomb for sale? Magazine, books, philosophy, old newspapers for sale? Pieces for this literature? No? Any old iron? Hey, listen, you're with the regs and bows. We've got a rusty torpedo. Will you take that? I must have made my husband. No, thanks, lady. That sort of thing went out of tears, bro. Now it's hydrogen bombs and upwards. Got any? Come on now before the show's over. Cobalt, have any water, atomic red, pickled cucumbers, anything old for sale? Any old glory for sale? Any old ideas for sale? Any old diamonds? What is that? That looks like him. It must be. I'd know him in a million. Here's Flip Flap, my lad, my friend. Oh, I had low there, my master. Where have you been, Flip Flap? Where have you been, master? Come on now, Flip Flap. Give me your hand, master. Master stretches down his hand and pulls Flip Flap up onto the stage. Come to my arms, Flip Flap, my boy. And you mean, master, mine? Name, Grace. Where have you been, Flip Flap, my boy? I've spent 10 centuries looking for you. No, no, nothing centuries. It must be 50 centuries. I'm still a terrible liar, this fellow. Why, we only parted 15 minutes ago in front of him. Where were you, Flip Flap? Where did you go? Well, what have you done? I was out there in the wild, wild world. What was I to do? And you worked for other masters? Oh, yes. Lots and lots of them. Every one of them were moving awful at the other. What was this rags and bones business? Well, what was I to do? This last master of mine has sent me out into the streets like this. Master's dad? Why, the one who sends me all over the world to buy up bits and pieces of secondhand glory. I'm just about fed up to cheap with it. Walking in and out among other people's houses. How are things with you, master? Fine, thank goodness. Your conscience still bothering you? Oh, no, thanks so much, children. Oh, they've grown up? Oh, yes, and their children are married too. Some of them are dead, but others have come alone in their place. They're not too tired to sell this. And all that in a quarter of an hour. You mean you haven't had to lift the finger to bury anyone? Thanks to the children, I told you. Oh, they took on the profession too. Took it on and doing very nicely in it indeed. Doing nicely? How come? You remember the mess you got us and how about burying just one corpse? Now, every one of my sons thinks nothing of burying 10 or 20,000. They take that son of mine, Alexander. He buried about 100,000 on his own. And his brother, Thotmus, is slightly older. He personally buried as many corpses as the heirs on his head. Thotmus and Alexander? Why have they got a name like that? Oh, I gave them the names of those heroes of history, every one of them, a name like that. They're Napoleon, for example. He's buried about 3 million. Which Napoleon, yours, or the history? Oh, my son, my son, all of them are my sons. Oh, that's right. And they've all buried a million or more. That's right. No, jolly good show. Really fine lads, yours. You know my son, Mussolini? How many million? Oh, no, he started a bit late and had to work until his older brother came along and hardened him a little. And which brother was that? How about this? In just one season, they managed to bury 12 million. Aha, was there like a cholera epidemic or something? Cholera, nothing, 12 million by the same old method. Have you forgotten how we couldn't find any corpses we killed and buried one ourselves? Oh, yes, but from what you say, that season of theirs must have lasted 100,000 years for them to find and finish all of all that lost. Now, now, they're behind the times. Didn't I tell you they were real masters? They invented a few devices. They didn't have to do anything by hand. In one second, they could kill thousands. Supposing they could. Didn't each of them still need burying in his own grave? Ah, how out of date you can get. Didn't I tell you they were real masters at it? They invented ways of killing and burying people automatically. It was no digging, no pickaxes. You have had some fine children. You're the one the credits due to, real chips of the old block. You must have made a fortune out of them. Oh, yes, I earned a lot, but I used to spend a lot too. But the result that you see me now as I was when I was last saw me. Tell me, what have you been doing? How about your wife and child? Please, do say my wives and children. How many of them? Haven't you heard of Spartacus and his friends? Oh, goodness me, yes indeed. My Roman wives' children got thoroughly fed up with burying them. Oh, my. Did you know Kapur the Ikhshidi? Amtar Ibn Shaddad, Abu Zayn? Would you like me to tell you about them? They were all mine. Didn't you tell me about yours, and I shouldn't tell you about mine? Let's forget it. There were no times like the old times. You mean when it was just you and me? Yes, oh yes, those were the days when there were no children, no wives, no money to bother about, and no crowds. You really remember? So nice to have met you, flip that, my boy. Really nice to have met you, master. What do you say? How about forgetting about everything that happened? Just as you say, as though it never happened. And we'll begin again. All over again from the beginning, whatever you like. And you'll get into character. And I'll get into character. Okay, then. Get into character. Are you there yet? If you go, then. Just listen to me. Gotten into character, flipped like my man, yet? What, huh? What was that you said? I said, now, just listen to me, flip-flop on my man. Didn't we agree we had gotten into character and could begin? Begin what? The play, what happens? What's play? Our play! You're missing a large book and holding it up. Have you forgotten? I could never have forgotten that, no matter what. How could we ever begin that again? Just like before. You're flipped like my man, the master. Come on, let's get going. Listen, flip-flop my man. Stop, stop, stop. Don't go any further. That's all. What's wrong, my boy? I have nothing to do with that play. Flip-flop indeed. Me, please, flip-flop again. Not on your nelly. What do you think I am? That's all over and done with, long ago. Isn't that your same flip-flop? I hope you haven't gone on your head or anything. It's not as if we're inventing anything ourselves. It's all here in the play. No more play and no more silliness. What play? You call this stupid thing a play? You keep handing it to me and saying, the play, the play, then the play. A thousand years, a hundred thousand years, you keep fooling me with that play of yours. Flip-flop, flip-flop. Yes, master. Can you flip-flop? Yes, master. Come up here, flip-flop, miss master. Scratch my back, flip-flop, cripple yourself, flip-flop. The devil take all the flip-flops. Look here, my boy. And talk that way in front of me. And how would you two? Very well. I should have to call the author. The devil take the author, too. What sort of an author is he to make everything go against me? He treats me as if I'd killed his father or married his mother, or as if he were my landlord or something. To help with the play and the author, I ask you. No, no, no. Not on my meditative many in your best old-fashioned angle. No, if you want it French. Okchi, if you want Greek. And in your own language, nuts. Some devil must have taken hold of you. Used to be a docile as a blind kitty. What's come over you? Open my eyes, that's what. And put on airs and turn into an ass. And look as if you might start kicking, too. Little by little, you seem to be treating me as flip-flop and acting the master yourself. And what would it matter if that did happen? Would heaven come down on earth? Or would the day of judgment come? Would cigarettes cost a shilling a packet again? For heaven to come to earth is possible. The day of judgment might, while it come. But for cigarettes to be a shilling and meat and two and a half yasters a pound, and you be master and me flip-flop. And that is quite impossible. Why not? Why couldn't it happen? That would have to be another play. You would have to write yourself. I'll write it. Ok, I'll write it. Would that be so difficult? You bloody idiot, get some sense into your head. Aren't you ashamed of someone overhearing you? How could you write anything? You, you rat that's shed its tail. Here, you want to be an author. And why shouldn't I? The trousers are the trouble. I can always shorten them. Or I can roll them up, can't I? And if that's not enough, I can take them right off. What do you think would happen anyway if I were to write a play? Would it be a flop? However badly I wrote it, it couldn't be more of a flop than our friend's play with his 13th attempt at act and the TV episodes and all that. I've never heard such impudence. You don't like his work. You think it's only me? Does anyone like him? You just take any of those people and ask them whether they think any conceivable author could do a worse job. To flip-flop-i's one man and masterize the next forever. Why? Hasn't he got any sense? Hasn't he got any taste? Aren't there any critics? Even if it's just for the sake of a change, people are getting bored. Why the lap down there? I can hear him getting bored. He's been getting bored for an hour. Wrong. Wrong? Wrong of right. You're not here to criticize. We're here to work. We're nothing to do with the wise and we're us and what the author says. Look, we've been quipping for yet another hour and we're neglecting a play. We can't spare any more time. We're hardly begun yet. We still have lots and lots to do. You've done a great deal of characterizing and getting into character and thinking about now. Do you intend to work or shall I hold the author to do what he likes with you? No. Flip-flop? No. Well, you're to blame for what's going to happen. You're honored the author. Master author, oh greatest, finest, best of authors. Don't bother. He left a long time ago. Left? Left? Where did he go? I don't know. When would he be back then? We don't know. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after. Maybe in a year's time, maybe in a thousand years. We don't know. He'll come at all. And what are you to do then? Work things out for yourselves. How can we? We don't know. That's right. Suck him on, oh well done beautiful foe. What a thing to say. What a way to treat us. He thinks us up, then leaves us, and wanders away. What are we going to do now? During the speech, Flip-flop is demonstrating his delight by dancing around stage, leaping in the air, and rolling on the floor. Why don't you say something, nonskull? Just use it. What are you going to do? It's done. It's all finished. Long ago, my friend, you called me a nonskull and I'll call you a thousand million nonskulls. You stare at me and I'll poke my thumb in your eye. What are you manners, man? What is your current sense? What's up with you? I used to be scared, that's what. But now, I'm free. I'm not something out of the mold. I'm myself at last. Haven't been praised. There's no other for me to worry about. Wonderful. There was a new ethons having to be thought up and written out by an author. It's the finest thing in the world to feel that you are the author of yourself. To make yourself do whatever you wish. Oh, no, careful, careful. Have you mean the author of yourself? That means chaos. Even if the author has gone in any case, that play is still here. Can't you see that? Forget about the play and all that. Why? All that nonsense was pretty worth. Without an author and his bouncers to protect it, the play doesn't mean a thing to me. Now, look here, my boy. You just watch your tongue. When he was here, you went around with your hip detail between your legs, but it's different now, isn't it? Your sword only understands things if only one rubs their noses in it. He's really a very, very important author. It's all changed, isn't it? Maybe he's away on some business or other, so the cat's away and the mice can play. Oh, no, up you get. Put yourself together. Let's get to work. You do it on your own. I am very comfortable sitting here. Flip flop. I'm not flip flop. Now, look, lad, that's not nice. I'm the master. How are you, the master? I'm a human being just like you now. Of course a human being, of course, but flip flop is a play. I have nothing to do with it, then. Act it by yourself. Truly, I can't act by myself. If I could do shit, then the thing won't bother you The tragedy is, we just have to have two of us. Why do we have to? That's how it is, then, not just it. Either old plays need at least two actors. That's just old plays. Out of date, nowadays, there are authors who write plays for just one actor. There are even more modern ones, too. They have some plays with no actors at all. The world's advanced a lot lately. People have progressed, too. You're the only one left sitting and worrying about that play of our author's friend, which even, which even he has walked out of. Say what you like, but you might as well realize that it's only in that play we have, and there is everyone still sitting there all day waiting. We really must start work or else we'll have the same trouble as we had at Suez. Oh, no. Anything but that. Have I refused to work? Then let's go to work. Have I refused to work? Yeah, that's fine. So we'll settle then. What is it? It's a character right away, now, and we can start the play. I'm still to be flip-flop? What do you think, Goldilocks? Oh, no, my friend, not at your life. Listen, flip-flop, I've had enough. I'm not going to say another word to you, I swear. If you don't make a start, I'm going to finish you off good and proper. Oh, you do it, too. I'm sure you do it. Take the lead from your son's book and do it. Listen, as far as I'm concerned, I'm going to get to work. Play my part and satisfy my conscience. I am willing to do any other kind of word, but I'm not ready to play flip-flop, and it's... Master. How can you not trust me? Consider me on strike. It's my right to know. I will pray from labor until the choice of play is modified. And so until then, I wish you happy listening and a very good night to you all. Oh, so you think you're going to get me really angry, do you? All right, go on strike. You're free. I don't give a thing again to show you what I think of you. I'll go on strike, too. I would have started working now, even if you asked me. Oh, see, I like to bother you. You realize that no work means no money? I'll leave you to take a begging. That's what? Strike, for all I care, you can threaten me. I wouldn't work with you either. It's not as if you worked for my sake. You're a free agent. Flip-flop is meanwhile engaged in twisting his body into contortions like an Indian flakir, apparently attempting to cause himself as much pain as possible. Sleep on nails and eat lizards if you want to. I swear, I'll give you no peace till I drive you crazy. It's either you or me. My words so furnished I'd have given you one for. But I'll show you, even if I had to tie your stone around my stomach. Why so silent, Flip-flop? Are you hungry or out of cigarettes? Are you worried about money? Why don't you let me give you some? Draw a fat wallet out of his pocket. Oh, what a shame. I'm afraid all I've got is a 10 pound note. Oh, well, it doesn't matter to me. Why, by the time I'm beginning to feel hungry, they don't have issues. It's death, silence, silence. My darling, today is the tips of the month, and you haven't given me any money yet. Don't you remember we have the dressmaker's bill this month, too? And if you don't bring the money tomorrow, I can't say what I might do. Oh, aren't you ashamed of yourself sending me the boy with just two pastas? What can I do with the two pastas piece? Shall I get it charged and pay the rent? Every time I speak of you, you say everything would be all right tomorrow. I'm telling you straight. If you don't bring me some cash tomorrow, I'll have nothing but month to feed you and your brats, don't say? No good, I tell you. Words are not enough for me anymore. We didn't buy any winter clothes, and we'd go away till this summer. We decided not to go to the seaside, but go to the pool every day instead. And it comes to this stage now where we have to eat native bread. Look, it is not simply possible. No, no, I've never in my life had to eat native bread. I've never even touched it. No, no, no, no, you will find another way out, my pet. I cannot put up with things anymore. The master's ride comes in followed by four girls, the first carrying a baby, the second dressed as a maid, the third as a housekeeper, and the fourth as a hospital nurse. Where's the money? There isn't any. Why not? Are you spending it on someone else? There isn't anyone else? There's no money because there's no work. But haven't people dying anymore? Have the germs gone on holiday? Oh no, it's just that our fine friend here is on strike. Why? He doesn't want to be flipped flat. But why not? You expect me to know as can be? If you are asking, you can reply. Ooh, where is he that son of a cast of slipknot? Has he taken off to sleep yet now? Slipknot's wife comes on stage, followed by an army of boys and girls, all barefooted with their clothing torn. If he were a real man, he would not, as he does. All he does, all he's any good at, and he'll be 10 children a year. But you're as good as dead, I'm going to murder you. Why, deserting us and coming to sleep over here? I'm going to sleep. I'm so drunk, I pray to heaven that's what you will be. Struck, good, and harm. When did he strike you? No, I'm on strike from work. And please, be careful of those prayers of yours. You're so tall with your head so near the sky and your voice so piercing. And your tongue as fast as sharp as light when your prayers might reach home. Why are you on strike? Because that man there wants to put me to work as a slipknot forever. Well then, first of all, let's clear all those kids out of here. Come on, up, up with you, go, yalla, go, go, go. What do they all think they are? Can you get some disinfectant or something? Do something about it? Go on, up with you. Could I really have produced all these little monsters? I have a feeling, fear of word, and I've gotten along with that love-bindness thing. Go along with you. Shoot, scat, you tell them, will you? They're just like their father. They won't do anything if you treat them kindly. Ain't little bastards the most in my sight. The children scamper off. If you call your own children bastards, what's your name for yourself? What did you say? Strike me down if I said a word. You say you want to see Tomorca as his flip-flop. A lot you wouldn't understand, a lot. He's right, you know. What do you expect? You can't place an eye high up in his brow, you know. Oh, that was long ago, flip-flops and masters nowadays. Why, even your fingers aren't all equal. Damn it. How can you treat people like slaves, my pet, when they are all bone free? Pull yourself together. There are some who have to be masters and some who are others like you. Only as good as flip-flops. The world has changed. It's advanced and developed. There are men and then there are those who call themselves supermen. Now just remember that king of rants whose head they chopped off and they invented liberty, equality, and fraternity, you better watch out. Some people are made of gold and others just like brass and others again are nothing but anything like that. That was all over years ago. We belong to the present day. No difference between filet and millen nowadays. I'm like you and you are like me. We all know that bulls are stronger than men and work there, but which of the two puts the other out of our aid? You are a human being and so is he. All of these master and flip-flop business is rubbish. I don't believe this in the mind of certain people who consider themselves better and smarter. The masters and those who work with their bodies are the flip-flops. I'm even supposing you are smarter than me. Who said that gives you the right to boss it over me? Surely you can see wherever you go. They'll always make you walk at a flip-flop. You can be as superior as you want. How can you help it if you're not so superior? And wouldn't you rather be a life flip-flop than a thousand last years of star to death? When I know you simply don't know how to do a day's work and it's his work that brings him home to food. In any case, it's a job like any other and that's how we eat. If you don't want to, we'll all die. Make it up with me. I don't know what to say. Me neither. I really feel ashamed, flip-flop. Me too, master. Why don't we stop being so shy? Look up at each other and follow the consequences. One day. I'm willing to do whatever you want. But we'll never get anywhere that way. Listen, master, my boy, do you really insist that I have to be flip-flop? Oh, no, no, no, I never. Let's forget about flip-flop altogether. Let's forget about me, if you like. Just as you wish. Hard luck. Hard luck, master. What do you mean? If you'd waited just a moment, I'd have given away and told you I was willing to spend my whole life working as your flip-flop. But now, it's all over. Okay, you actually said it and that makes it official. So you're making a fool of me. No, right. I'll take back what I said. How can anyone who spent, you know, so many thousands of years being the master take back something he said? That's not right. Isn't it better for me to do that than have my position as a master taken away from what I've said? But if you do that, you'll have lost your master's position anyway. If you don't take back what you said, you'll have given it up yourself. Either way, I'll be gone. Which do you prefer, to lose it or to give it up? You've got me there all right. Well, that doesn't matter. It's all sort out itself. So it's all decided. We've discarded the play and now neither of us is master or flip-flop. Goodbye to you then, and very true. Goodbye. Goodbye. So here we stand without a play. Who said we have no play? Is there another one? Did you have a play? No, I haven't. Well, where's there one then? We're going to make it up ourselves. That's where you go wrong, flip-flop. You always joke when you ought to be serious. What can you write? Can you and I write a single sentence? A word even. How can we make up a play? And when are we to do so? Now, you mean while we're standing here in front of everyone, we're to write it, get familiar with our parts and act them out all at the same time? Why would I have to be geniuses to do that? You do complicated things. It's all very simple and there's not many genes. How can we write anything? How can we see two people sitting down just like that and making something up together? Going to divide things up. How? One of us would write the parts and the other one would choose which to pick. Would you rather that you write and I didn't choose it? Or you write or I write and you choose? What an absolute idiot. I can choose the easiest role now. You write and I choose. What an absolute idiot. He doesn't realize that what I'll write won't have one role that's superior to the other. Now look, master. No, that doesn't count. It was slip of the tongue. From now onwards, there's not going to be any master or flip-flop, just as we agreed. We're not going to be like other authors going into daydreams and dreaming up fairy stories and all that. We're just going to begin straight up with the truth, with what actually exists. And what does actually exist? You and me all. You mean flip-flop and it's master. Don't be an ass, okay? I'm a man and you're another man. What does that make us two men? That's it, me and you, exactly like one another. Very nice indeed, well then. So we do our work exactly like one another. You won't be my master, nor me your master. You mean we'll both be flip-flops. Don't you think? Don't you know that flip-flops like you and like me, as I was, have their own language with which they insult masters? Are you writing your memories or something, master? All right. Could we stick to the stuff? Fine, let's stick to it. Listen, flip-flop, my boy. What am I going to work as? You are my master. And what will you do? I'm a great digger. Can't you think of anything worse? No, I can't. All right, let's get to work. I'm ready, let's go. Listen, flip-flop, my boy. I've had an idea. Instead of digging the graves on their sides like that, try digging them upright so that we can economize on land. Upright. That's it, upright. Like Coca-Cola bottles and a crate. All right. Tell me what, you're digging only one story grace. Why not dig them two or three stories deep? Why not make them underground skyscrapers? Let them scrape the water. All right. Listen, flip-flop, my boy. Yes, master. I've had a really progressive idea. How about me wanting you to dig me a grave above ground? How can I? What's that to do with me? It's my job to give you orders, and that's that. What's your job then? You think you don't expect me to do thinking to you that would be giving up the master's ship. How can I think? How can I dig a grave above ground? How could be so silly as to say that? It's not only been said it's been done, too. Who, I? The facts. Didn't they dig graves above ground? Thank you, apparently. Why didn't I think it through? Why did you say so earlier? I've done that. I would never have been acting like a proper master. A re-master is one who, when he wants to be a, when he wants a pyramid, tells you he wants a grave above ground. Someone who, when he wants to give you the sack, said, perhaps it's time you took a rest. Or when he wants to say, you seem as blind as a bat, a re-master says, do make sure you look at what you're doing. That's what makes a re-master. It's an art. I really don't know why you ever came to be a master. Tell me, how did you? I lived your wishes, then. Don't you know? It's an insult to say that. How is it an insult? As I said before, don't you know that flip-flops like you and like me, as I was, have their own language with which they insult masters? When they want to tell their masters they're hit, that is an idiot. In fact, they say, oh, very clever, sir. Or when they say, excuse me, they really mean, then your eyes, to say, as you wish, means, I'll see you hanged first. Why, certainly, sir, means, I've bloody well shunned. And when they say, I'm at your service, they mean, I'm not your perishing slave. And so what, don't you agree? Whatever you say, sir. Oh, go to hell, can't you? Bending your party, sir. I said, go to hell. You and whoever made you flip-flop. At your service, sir. Oh, my goodness. You really have learned. I see you are at the beginning, to know how to be a good flip-flop. And I see, master, my lad, that you are beginning to lose your whiteness of touch. Oh, no, my friend. It's your shining wit. That's so very quick of the uptick. Tell me, master, I said my lad, why aren't you my master? Why, the master? What do you mean, what? I'm your master, not all that. Every master has to have a flip-flop, and every flip-flop must have a master. If it weren't that way, the world would be topsy-turvy. Everything would be ruined and chaos take over. So if you're right there, then flip-flop, my friend. What's this flip-flop business, my man? I'm the master. Oh, no. You're nothing of the sort. You just got caught in your part as a master, and you're quite forgotten. We haven't arrived at any solution. What solution? Does something need solving? Personally, I can't see anything that needs solving. You're right. We've gotten how we had that dead-lish good idea, which we've been trying out. Now we've tried it, and it's quite obvious it's no use. All right, so why don't we give it another try? Maybe it'll turn out all right after all. You've turned lazy, that's what. Come on, up you get. I'll get lost. You're just like my wife. Well, here I am, up and ready, but you best be careful. So you better be careful, either you find us a solution or back we go to the play. No, no, no, no, no, please, no. We must find a solution. There must be a solution. I ask you, everyone, is this reasonable? I always thought people said, for every knot. There's ways of unraveling it. And I just want one. Has anyone got a solution? My brain's come to a stop. The band belt has snapped. I must play by to the side. Any solutions, finders? Does anyone have his brain working shape? Has anyone got a solution? Is there an author in the house, or maybe just a dreamer? Not one? A solution! What's that you're saying? You have a solution? Lovely, that's the stuff. I'm sure I've come across someone whose brain still works well. Let's have your solution then. Tell us, what are we to do? But make sure there's no flip-flop and master business in it. Is there? No, no, there isn't. Well, my friend, what's your solution then? That both of you be masters. Both of us masters. That's it? You mean, both of us play the master? You mean, neither does anywhere? That's it! Well, who's going to do the work then? The state! What state? I don't understand a thing. Why don't you come up here and tell us what you mean? That's it, the state! You two just form a state. Each of you will be his own boss and it will be the state that does the work. Beautiful, what a solution! You are a genius! What a genius the man is! I just love the state idea! But, do you know how to form it? Of course, it's very simple. Nothing could possibly be simpler. We'll even make it into an empire! Why didn't we think of that before? Thank you enormously. You can leave the rest up to us. It was really good of you indeed. Now don't forget to say hello to everyone for us. Come on then, my friend, let's form a state. You think you can fabricate a state just like that? Nothing could be easier. Israel was put together in an hour. It's all very, very simple. To need a name, you know. We'll give it one. We'll give it my name. We'll call it the Empire of Mysteria. What do you mean, Mysteria? That could be a self-serviced restaurant. That's no good as a name. No, no, no. We'll do what Chico Slovakia and Tanzania did and take a bit from your name and a bit from mine. And it will be the Empire of Mesflipia. Listen, you asked. You'd better have nothing to do with it. You've got no imagination at all. No idea about competition. Just be quiet. We'll call it the Empire of Great Phlipflapia. What's that name? What's wrong with Phlipflapia? Don't you agree? It's just as good as Nigeria or Manchuria. It only has one letter of my name while it uses all of yours. So what? You must realize the state demands sacrifices, you know. I'm just sacrificing my role and name whereas you're only giving one letter and you're still not satisfied. All right, then. What now after the sacrifices and the name? That's all. We've become a state, an empire good and proper. The Empire of Great Phlipflapia. And who's the emperor? Oh, no, no, no. That's quite out of fashion. That's an empire business where there was only one emperor. The latest thing is an empire that's for all citizens to be emperors. You'll be one and so will I. Somehow I still don't feel we're a state or an empire or anything. You're right. What we need is a few more things to complete the bitch. We need radio station. We'll make one. Runs off to the entrance and returns with an old-fashioned horn-shaped gramophone speaker. Here's our radio station. How about the press? Here we are. Produces a copy of an old newspaper from this pocket. But that's just one paper. Come on. And what's this day? That's an old one. We want papers that come out every day. This is a daily newspaper. Every day the same newspaper. Why change it? Why give ourselves all the bother of getting printers and editors and newspaper sellers to pester us? What for? Do you really think that there are new things happening every day worth publishing newspapers about? What happened yesterday is pretty much the same as what happened today and tomorrow. One paper can do for yesterday, today, tomorrow, all that once. So, here, we have our radio station, our press, and our name. What more do we need? We still need a constitution. You have your own. Each man will have his own constitution. He can write down once in it and change it as he pleases. All set up? All set up. So we are the masters now. Then, state, get to work. We'll broadcast on the radio. And no, we're not the news paper. And there we are. The state in its entirety is that our man and each of us is an emperor. Off we go. Come on, state. Get to work. Silence. They wait for something to happen, but nothing does. See? It doesn't work. There must be something that's out of order. Looks into gramophone, thumbsters the paper, and listens and looks all around. I don't know what's not working. It doesn't work on its own. Someone has to operate it. I shall volunteer to work for you, my brother emperor. Thank you. Take gramophone horn and speak steward. This is the empire of great flabflopia. Speaking at the command of their majesties and citizens, it's two emperors for whom the state is ready to perform at any service they might request from it. That's the way to talk. This is really a way of the solution. Don't you talk to me about place? So that I can perform the best possible services to their imperial majesties, I have a modest request to make of them. Big smart, so long as you will work for us, we agree. A small request is that I get a promise from each of the emperors that he would place himself for a short time at the disposal of the empire. That's easy. I thought you were going to ask for something difficult. Here, my beloved emperor of mine, at your disposal, what is it you wish for me to do? A flifflop must make his way at once to the graves, take up his matter, and begin to dig. We did not agree on that, OK? I go out and work for it in good faith while you make it work. That means you're using the empire to make me work for you. What did you think? That's how empires work. I'm working for the empire and not you. Emperor Flifflop, your job is to work for it and his job is to make it work. Oh, no. Just a moment, both of you. Are you in cahoots for this kind of something? Got yourself a lawyer? Look here, I'm one whole half of the empire and I'm going to use my right according to the constitution to give you this act. And you too, even if you've not checked a kind of job, consider yourself dismissed as well. But my constitution doesn't give you the right to do that. My constitution or yours, which ever one fires, you all stand by it. What thought you like about my solution? Call that a solution? You think that's any solution? What a mess you are, bringing up all the state business and still ending up with the Flifflop and the master? Well, Mr. Flifflop, for work to be done, there have to be some people working and others to make them work. So what do we get, huh? Not a damn thing. We're still marking time. There's Flifflop and his master. No, Flifflop and his organizer. Master, organizer, it all comes to the same. If he's my organizer, can't he stack me? If you don't work well, he has to stack you. Then he's my master. Consider that a law for any time or place or among any people. Whoever can give you the sack is your master. Anyone who's not sure who his master is and wants to know has only to ask himself, who it is who can fire him? 99 times in a hundred that person will be his master. But if we want to live, we must work. And for us to work, there must be those who employ as well as those who work. Flifflop's a master. Flifflop's a master's, private's and sergeant's groups and their leaders, provided there's no special harm is there in that. Provided he employs you for your own benefit. Where is the harm? How come no harm? The real trouble is that we're all human beings and human beings have a sense of dignity. Any domination by one human over and over leads to a loss of some part of his dignity. It's one's dignity, it's one's dignity so big that we can afford to let it be crumbled away like this. Either your dignity or your money and your sweat, that's how society is organized. Flifflop, any society of human beings must be that way. The law of mankind is like that and we must all submit to it. Do you know any other law a man can submit to? I do know one law at least, one basic law applying to all human beings. A very simple law too. It says that I am like you and that we mustn't allow our relationship to be on the basis of worker to employer, group to leader, flifflop to master, ignorant to educated, weak to strong. We must remember the basic laws of humankind. The laws of the nine months and the milk on which we all suffer. The law that makes us all wet the bed when we were little. The law that makes us all children, brothers knowing no master nor flifflop amongst them. The law of nature, the law of the animals where no lion rules any other lion and you find no flifflop in any sort of crowd. Robo, flifflop, well done. Everything you said is right and true. That empire of yours was full of tyranny and slavery, no use to humanity at all. All you're saying is silly rubbish. Rubbish, it may be, but it's a million times better than what you think is sense. Carry on for heaven's sake. Do no dumb, yes, oh yes. Now if you'd like to come in a little bit closer, my dear. First I have to prove to him that he's wrong. Don't you bother yourself with him, my dear. You prove it to me. If I want to be convinced, I'm sure I'll be convinced straight away right on the spot. I'll convince you experimentally. Experimentally, too. My, you have brightened up my evening. What is this experiment then, and if you'd just like to come in a little closer? I have another solution, another empire. There are some more empires for heaven's sake. Wait a moment, please. This empire is something quite, quite different. In it, everyone is free, free to do as he wishes. Whoever wants to be a master can be one. Whoever wants to be a footballer can be one. Suppose you want to do nothing. Can be. Oh, excellent. Well done. It's your empire, or nothing for me. What do you call this empire of yours? It's called liberty, the empire of liberty. And it's all our free, no state to order you about, no one to interfere in your private life, and no trespassing on your dignity. As she speaks, she makes her way on stage and mounts a pedestal. She adopts a stance like that of the Statue of Liberty. Whoa, what a woman. Do tell me your name, please. Madame Liberty. And your husband. What's the masculine for liberty? Oh, no, I haven't any husband, I'm not married. The horse? Not the horse either. A widow? Not a widow either. You are called madam, then, but you're not married, or divorced, or a widow. I'm just a madam, that's all. Don't you find that strange? Must a woman be married, divorced, or widowed to be called a madam? No, of course not, not necessary at all. Why should it be? There are many easier ways than those. Listen now, Madame Liberty, you really are free, aren't you? Very much so, hmm, yes, my, my, yes. Long live liberty, that's what I say. I'm mad about liberty. Oh, liberty, my whole body trembles when I think about you. Listen Madame Liberty, I want to work for you. Will you, will you employ me? I'll employ you. Super, what adds? What job do you want? What job do I want? Do I actually have to have a job? No, seriously, what work do you want to do? Any job where there's no master. Do you have any job without a master? We don't call them masters, we call them bosses. All our jobs need bosses. The smart thing to do is choose a job where your boss will be nice. So that's liberty? Then I'm free to choose my boss. What more could you want? All right, so both of you, I want to work above all the bosses. Be the boss of all the bosses. Do you have such a job? Yes, we have. But for that job, we don't have just one boss. We have a whole Congress of bosses. There are a thousand of them. And can they give me this hat? According to the Constitution, yes. Oh, no thanks then. I wanted you to be my boss. I can work at your side and stand behind you so that when you get a little tired, you can lean on me for a while. If you get tired of standing too long, I could make a seat for you. What do you think? Someone like you stand near me, that would be a misuse of freedom and they'd hang you for it. Why, only yesterday they hanged a flip-flop like you for looking at me, yet you want to keep by my side. Hang them for looking at you? They thought they should. We have free rule of opinion. Just as he thought he could look at me, they thought they should hang him. What's wrong with that? A neck? For a look? Straight up? Isn't that better than a police state or a dictatorship or repressing freedom of opinion? Yes, much better, I suppose. Much, come on master, let's get going. Where to? Clear off and leave her. Why can't she go? No, but we'll leave master, we'll go. We'll leave this land of freedom for somewhere without a speck of liberty. We don't want any of this. Come on, let's dismantle this empire. We'll auction off the radio station, close down the press. Come on, my friend, it was only her. I, ooh, better impress me. She's got a beautiful pair of eyes. We're back where we started, now flip-flop, my friend. Now we've dismantled the state as a solution. What will we do next? We'll look for another solution. Are there any left? We tried flip-flop, my miss master, and you didn't like that. We tried both being flip-flop, and that was useless. You played the master, I mean flip-flop. That ended up right where we started. We tried both being master and tested all the empires without success. What's left now? What asked me? Why not them, huh? They think they're so smart, watching us get into all this. It's like there's a single one who touches muscles and puffs out a solution. Sorry, sorry, hello, sorry. Sorry, why not separate and each work on your own? At this point, the auditorium lights should come up, gradually reaching full strength, while the stage lights dim out. The audience and the passage that follows should resemble a congress with flip-flop answering questions put to him by the members. We did that in the first part, you asked, and it didn't work. Where were you, asleep? I've got a solution. I think you should get some machines, which you can operate as your flip-flops. Flip-flops? Yes. Each of you get a machine and operate it as a flip-flop, each being its master. All right. So we operate the machines. Now, who will operate us? Must there be anyone? Everything that works. My son must have someone making it work. Even human beings. Even human beings? Why not become existentialists? To be an existentialist, you first have to eat, and to eat you have to work, and to work you have to have a master and a flip-flop. No, that's absurd. Sorry, no, that's absurd. As long as that's so, we find the solution is absurd. What do you think? Such as what, for example? Yeah, there are two possibilities. Either bind each flip-flop to each master and split each flip-flop among the master, and each master among the flip-flop. In this way, instead of all the thinking being on its own and all the working being on its own, we put half the thought with half the work and half the work with half the thought, but the danger here is the thought about work might take control of thought in work because thought about work, the great deal superior than thought at work in work is to... What do you think of this solution? Thank me. It's a very logical solution. Well, how do you mean logical? I've been splitting my head all day. I think of an absurd solution. Okay, okay. I'm getting angry, it's absurd. About how do you mean absurd anyway? What other people call absurd is what I call logical and what they call logical is really absurd. What the situation? You don't like what's logical nor even want to absurd. What? I meant to say them. I know. You're right. That is the logic of the absurd or the absurd of the logical. And the best thing about it all is that it contradicts the absurdity of the logical because it itself is the logicality of the absurd and just the first from both logicality and absurdity as much as it does logicality from what is not illogical. Do you understand? Professor? Yeah, exactly. Very clear, thank you. Dear curtain attendant, fully and fully, marches in front of us fully on stage. What do you fellas think you're off to? Think the stage is your own backyard or something? Your time was up long ago. That curtain road has been biting into my head all day as I waited for you to finish. It's useless. You've got no sense, no consideration. The fact is my wife's having a baby tonight and I've got to go get her and at least to find out what she's had. And as far as I'm concerned, the mother and the child are a million times more important than the silly play of yours. I've got to bring the curtain down now at once to go see what's happening. LaReen, get us out of this mess or we'll wreck your existence. We want a solution. First, a solution. Certainly, certainly. Every one of your demands will be met. Okay, now, you my friend, we're at your disposal. What can we do to satisfy you? Finish it off somehow. Well, how would you? If you want to find a solution, commit suicide. Why, I must have brought the curtain down on at least a hundred plays with the hero committing suicide. Kill yourself the same as them and let's go. Think of yourselves better than Juliette, here, Patra. What's your solution, Nancy? I think I'd be in it at all. Right? It definitely is a good idea. My heavens. Huh, we've tried everything else and it was all over. Now let's try that. We wanted to complete the quality, didn't we? With no flip-flop or no master. It's death that gives complete equality. You deserve a summer half dog for forsaking of that, my friend, and I'll pay it too on the day of judgment. God knows. At exactly eight o'clock in the morning. But how should we commit suicide? That's very easy. Bring two chairs, my friend. The curtain end brings two chairs on stage and then goes off. The master takes one and places it in front of him to one side of the stage while flip-flop places his chair on the other side of the stage. Let down two ropes. Two ropes in the form of nooses come down above the chairs. Ba-dum! What now, flip-flop? Climb on the chair, put your head in the noose, kick the chair away so that it falls and may God save us all. Isn't it possible we're really getting hanged on time? You think we're playing? Didn't we want to give death a try? Oh yes, but a try is one thing. You can't play about with death. Either it's death or it's not. Oh, I'm having a bad business. I can't get myself with my own hands. Really, I can't. Don't be such an asshole. We're only joking with you, that indeed. We'll just make believe that you died. Make believe? You mean it? Yes, even. Make believe. Even so, I'm still scared. To tell you the truth, so am I. You go first. Oh, of course I will. Why not? Up and trying first, Master. You go first. Oh, no, no, no, no. That wouldn't be right on the rubber of me. Not tried? Who goes first? Master or follower? Me here, did I bring you those chairs for you to kill yourselves on or to use for a party? He's a nasty specimen, he is. Off you go, my friend. And I hope your wife has quads tonight. I do, and every one of them as lonesome as you. Why not come over here for a plack, so we can die together in one noose. At least we can keep each other company. Well, well, all your brains really begun working. Stop it, it's the best business. Off you go. Oh, my dear man, out of the question, flip-flaps first. So the markers he's got to you at last hasn't. After you. That's out of the question, it's Master's first year. Please, good heavens, do stop all that trembling. Didn't I say this was just a try and run? Why? You're nothing but a paper master, if you won't. But death is death flip-flap, even if it's only this big belief. You mean you want to make us, to make it into a metal drama now, with me saying my last farewell to you? Us make it? Who knows? Who knows for sure? You might do it yourself, it's all fine. Well then, to be meet again. You know, our paths may differ. Why aren't you coming to heaven with me? Me? You think so? Have you forgotten, Abel? You killed him on this very spot. Why all this rough talk at this time like this? At least say goodbye with a few friendly words. All right. What a life. How the plane began, Master. Do you remember how you got married for me, flip-flap? All this appendicitis business? Close one day. Well, bye-bye now, flip-flap. Goodbye, Master. I will miss you. I'll even miss your stupidity. That nasty tongue of yours, of brother, got used to it. Where should I find another like that? Go on, put your head inside. Master does so. Make room for me. Flip-flap puts his head in. Move over a little bit on the flat side, aren't you? Listen, flip-flap, my boy. I don't take a really wish. Go on with this death drive. It's never just a tryout. It's always an end, my friend. And we're just beginning our play here. You want to end it already? Supposing it does give us this complete equality. You want what sort of solution is that? If it brings everything to an end as well, equalizes, but brings to a stop. Life without a solution, my friend, is a million times better than death with a solution. Life is a solution in itself, incomplete, it may be, but it's smarter for us to see it through and then abolish it. But we just don't know. We'll find out, and even if we don't, maybe someone will come along tomorrow who doesn't know. Get your head out, flip-flap. Well, you've turned out a human being all of a sudden. You really deserve a big kiss for saying it. Kiss, indeed, as if a kiss can end this play with your hands being on it. I'll bring it to an end myself. All the lights go out. He's going to hang us. Don't be a fool, friend. The voice of bodies hitting ground is heard with a choking sound. Ground belief, lights come on again. Flip-flap and master are lying on the ground side by side. The noose stretched out, lying. But they're next, still lying in. Hey, master. What? Hey, flip-flap, where are you? This time you're right, to ask where we are, who we are, where we've been and where we're going. With that man killed us. And the nasty look in his eyes from the start. So we've acted out that silly joke of ours and when we decided to live, we died. What are you starting to mourn for? Then we want to give death a try. Well, here we are. Let's see what good it is. You mean we really are dead? Dead, real and true. Have we been buried yet or not, do you think? At least a month ago, I'd say. But you know what? They stolen our winding sheets. So what are we now, worms? A bit less. Dust? A bit less. Atom. I'm an atom, and you're an atom, just like those neighbors of ours. So it's all over, for good, my friend. That master's position of yours. Here, you'll find a nucleus. Electrons, neutrons, protons, bonbons, but no master's or flip-flops. You can tell me about ends and beginnings, life and death, as I chose, or against my will. It won't bother me. The most important thing for me now is that we're exactly like one another. Who said we're like one another? Haven't you noticed how everything here has something else that's revolving around? We do just the same. What, us? Actually, it's you who will revolve around me. Why me, actually, because I'm flip-flop, you mean? No, because you're lighter. The law here is that whatever is lighter revolves around what's heavier, so you will revolve around me. Wherever you go, you've buried out these laws for me. What nonsense is this? Are you working for these laws or something? What are they to you, these laws? What have they to do with you? Are you a master or are you a bundle of laws? Maybe that's it. Maybe you're just a few laws and all that. Oh no, you don't, my friend. I'll not revolve at all. Not even once, I won't. So this is the solution we're to try? Not even once I won't revolve. You'll revolve whether you like it or not. Flip-flop moves as though pulled and compelled by some unseen hand to revolve around this nasty... What's this? What's happening to me? So I'm going to revolve on my own? Aren't you going to revolve, too? I wish I could. I've got to stay still. You have to revolve. And it will go on like this? As long as you're turning, I must stand here like this. As long as you're standing there and I go on turning like this? Round you go, flip-flop. Go on, go on, go round. Oh well, why not? Just for your sake, I'll make a few circuits. Even now you're still not understood. It's not a question of a few circuits. You're going to go on revolving, on and on. On and on revolving? What do you mean, on and on? For all eternity, that's what? For now, from now for a million, a thousand million, a million, million years to come until we find a solution. Oh my God. But this is a terrible thing. I don't believe it. But I'm tick-fied, all the same. Round you go, flip-flop. Okay, that's for your sake, mind you. But you'd better be careful. How many times is that now? Six. It'll soon be over then. Tell me when you get to ten. I won't be able to tell you. And by then, I'll have become a system, an unalterable, immutable system. What system? Your system. What have been you and that? Haven't you all your life been my immutable system? I've finished now, flip-flop. Finished now, I've become. I'm beginning to feel tired. How many is that? How many, master? I asked you how many now. Hey, come on. That's seventeen now. What now? I must have made a thousand turns by now. I'm afraid of all this dark. It truly does look as if it's death for you then too. And no, no, no, not like this, my friend. My system, mind. Don't do this to me. My God, system, mind, do more and more for this. Not this way, please. I'm tired. I'm tired. Oh, officer. Hey, they have the absurd. Good people. Why is it going? Find a solution. A solution, someone. A solution, otherwise I'll stay like this. There must be a solution. There must be a way out. Your brothers finished. A solution, I beg you. Not for my sake, but for your own. I'm just acting. It's you who are going round and round. He weeps and the words choke his mouth, which he continues to open and close without speaking, revolving silently in rhythm with the beating of the drum. After a minute, the curtain comes down, leaving him still revolving. When it opens for the first curtain call, he is still revolving, but at a particularly loud beat. He stops and takes a bath. Curtain.