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LUDIC LOG

"Who was it?"

"I'm sure I have no idea, Mary."

"Oh, yes you do. 'Even a man who is pure at heart and says his prayers by night...' You know."

"I don't know."

"God damn it, you do know! It was one of those old Universal horror pictures."

"Lower your voice, will you? You're making a scene."

"I'm making a scene. You're sitting there like you were a real man, sipping on a San Pelligrino. It makes me sick."

"I just wish you'd watch your language, dear."

"It wasn't so long ago you didn't watch your own. Because you didn't even have one. You take a few classes at the New School and all of the sudden you're Henry god damn Higgins. Well, don't you forget, mister, that it wasn't long ago that you were all 'alone bad, friend good', so don't come off all superior to me."

"I don't think anything of the kind."

"You don't think. That's the problem."

"Why don't you have another drink, dear? Perhaps it will lower your inhibitions."

"Oh, don't try and be clever, little man. The cleverest bits of you got thrown away off your daddy's work bench."

"Now we're engaging in personalities. I suppose I should be grateful. At least you've got one."

"Ha ha ha! My husband Adam, everyone. He was first in his class. Can you imagine it? Once he was on the lights of Broadway! Now he's lucky if he can get arrested for walking out naked to get the paper on Mockingbird Lane."

"I'm sure no one is interested in your sad little stories, darling."

"You're a living joke, Adam. Not even a funny one."

"And I suppose you're the punchline."

"Is that a threat? Are you threatening me? I swear to God, Adam, I'd beat you like a disobedient hound if I wasn't afraid of bruising you."

"Yes, appearances are so important. Your lovely hairdo, for example."

"Well, it was good enough when you married me. Maybe you thought you'd never do any better. You were right about that."

"I'm sure you had prospects aplenty. And you gave them all up for me. I'm flattered."

"I had prospects. A doctor."

"Pretorius? You're boasting about that? The man was a lunatic. You might as well say you once had a crush on the village idiot."

"You are a monster. Not even a frightening one. A misshapen, hideous one. You're like some sort of huge cockroach. You pathetic little vermin."

"Oh, God."

"There's no use calling on him. If he'd cared about you you'd still be at the end of a rope."

"I feel I rather am."

"Oh, hilarious! You're such a stitch! With clever banter like that, it's no wonder all the little girls love you so much, eh, Professor? So wise! So learned."

"Happy anniversary to you too, dear. Each year a beautiful repeat of the one before. We belong dead."

"Honestly, you've been trotting out that same tired line for sixty-six years. You're boring everyone, Adam! Stop boring everyone!"

"Waiter! Another drink, please. I beg of you."

"Begging will get you nowhere. Remember that violin player who took you for your life savings, like there was so much of it?"

"Like I remember your first hiss, Mary my love. Whatever happened to those carefree days?"

"You did, Adam. You did."