A small office. It's now nighttime, and the room is lit only by a small desk lamp, illuminating a small area around the desk while the rest of the room is in shadows. The desk itself is metal, at the side of the room, R, and beside it, DR, is a file cabinet, also metal, this has five drawers which are all closed except the top. [Note--what an awful comma splice!!] A potted plant stands in the corner, UL; the rest of the room is pretty bare. Sitting at the desk, looking at a paper from the file cabinet, is DR. LEVITICUS, poring over its contents while he listens to someone on the phone. He's frowning, deep in thought. After a moment or two he speaks up, to whomever is on the other end of the line. [Note--Mr. Cady corrected this to read "whoever," not "whomever." Truthfully, I usually don't use "whom" even when it is called for.]
DR. LEVITICUS Yes...Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking myself. Yes. What's that? Oh. Yes. I understand. (Frowning, studying the file) You know, Stan, this place is a real nuthouse. It would be even without the patients in it. They just manage to complement the atmosphere. (Smiles and chuckles) Well, of course they are. They're all loony. Especially that Hector-fellow. He thinks the Knights of Columbus are going to kill him. Talk about paranoid. And we just got in a new one. Name's--(looking at the file) Fisker Martyn Zynda. A manic-depressive. You've heard of him? I didn't know his fame had spread so far. (Sitting back, turning the chair more towards the audience) So what do you say? Ten grand enough? Yes--there's about three hundred patients here, but only a handful of them are difficult. Most of them are sheep, just waiting to be put out to pasture. (Smiles wickedly and chuckles again) So you've got enough room down there? (Snorts) For goodness' sakes [sic], Stan, they're mental patients, not people! [Note--yagh my villains were black-and-white back then.] They can get by on that much room. Sure it'll be a little cramped, but hey, that's not my problem, is it? (Smiles wickedly again) Good. Make sure nobody else finds out about this or they'll have my hide--and yours, too. Get me those documents by Monday and I can have them all out of here by the end of the week. Isn't the legal system wonderful? (Smiles and turns chair back to desk, leaning forward upon it) All right, then. Monday. (Pause) Stan, like I told you--the guys down at Bilwright and Jones can make any document look authentic. Don't worry about it. Just get them to me by Monday, all right? (Pause) Good. I'll see you then. Goodbye--and don't let the crazy bedbugs bite. (Hangs up, laughing softly to himself, and sits back in his chair, turning slowly towards the audience, the dim light showing a look of near-evil self-satisfaction upon his face) Friday, Saturday at the latest, this place is mine! (Laughs as he spins around slowly in his chair)
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