It’s Fight Club meets His Girl Friday in Manful!, an althistory 1940s-era screwball comedy where manliness is the law of the land and men must remain rough, tough, and well-bearded to keep America strong in the war effort. Except very suddenly a monstrous crime has men not feeling so manly anymore. Is it another day in America’s fight for right, or will the real answer be buried underneath all that facial hair?

ACTORS: 2 Female (30s, 50s), 6 Male (1 teens, 3 late 20s-30s, 2 40s-50s). Some actors are related which may or may not affect casting of race.

SETTING: A city like New York in a time like the 40s.

ACT I, Scene 1

Setting:       Knuckles Nightclub. The stage.

At rise:       In black. Musical intro. Spot on BUTCH who is dressed in a tux. He sings.

BUTCH: You may have heard about the fairer sex

For whom men move mountains, ford rivers deep and wide

(Booing from the crowd. He puts up his hands to silence them.)

But it’s true!

From every man it’s what the woman expects

And for every mushy heart alive, a manly man has died

So give me a man like Tarzan

No bonus words from the mouth of Tarzan

It’s ‘Me, Tarzan’ and ‘You, Jane’

Any more than that is spoken in vain

He can do so much, our can-do man!

Observe:

Napoleon had Josephine

The Sultan had Scheherazade;

A ladies’ man each with the vigor of kings

But when I say he had her, egad! we all know the poor cad was had!

So consider a man like Tarzan

No perfumes for the likes of Tarzan

He plays with lions and preys on lamb

And when he’s done, he don’t smell like madame

He does so much more our more-than man!

Let’s not mince words nor mince about

The fairer sex is...eh...only just fair

It’s way more fun to roust a roustabout

Or drop in on a friend in the den of a big ol’ grizzly bear

         (BUTCH rips off his tear-away suit to reveal a Tarzan outfit.)

So give me a man like Tarzan

I (he does a Tarzan call on the word ‘I’) want a man like Tarzan!

Gilgamesh and Enkidu

Alexander the Great and Achilles, too!

Give me a man’s man who can!

(By the end of the song, there are the sounds of fighting, furniture being thrown, and bottles breaking. BUTCH ducks a couple of times and crosses to exit off stage. MOTHER is waiting with a change of clothes for BUTCH. BUTCH dresses, looks out at the crowd.)

MOTHER: They started early tonight.

BUTCH: Tonight? Every night. It makes my beard itch.

MOTHER: You and me both.

         (seeing something in the crowd.)

I’m gonna kill ‘im.

BUTCH: Don’t worry. They do that on their own.

MOTHER: No, Butch. There. It’s Dick.

BUTCH: So what?

MOTHER: So he ain’t wrangling.

BUTCH: So he’s finally wised up.

MOTHER: But it ain’t right. Look.

(BUTCH looks.)

BUTCH: He’s a big boy, Mother.

         (beat)

I got an hour before my next gig. See you on the other side.

(BUTCH exits. MOTHER is about to follow, but looks back at where DICK is, gives the “AOK” signal, and exits. Lights down.)

Act I, Scene 2

Setting:       Lights up on DICK’s office, early morning. It’s small with two desks and a phone.

At rise:       DICK sits at the larger of the desks. He is passed out with an ice bag on his head. OX enters quietly and DICK is unaware of his entrance. When he sees DICK he smiles, steps in, and slams the door. DICK jumps up. He sees OX and backs up.

DICK:  Oh, no, don’t…

(OX gestures, “Come here.” DICK backs up around his desk.)

DICK (CONT'D): Ox, please. I can’t…

(OX approaches slowly, menacingly, locking eyes with DICK. They circle around the desk three times, as if OX is chasing DICK. DICK makes for the door. OX catches him and throws DICK against the wall. DICK is finally awake. He lunges at OX. They struggle. Then with left arms around the other’s neck or back, they each punch at the other’s belly with their right fists. The force of the blows settles down as they tire, and they hang on each other over the course of the next few lines.

GAYE enters, in a brightly colored dress with summer scarf and high heels. Her left hand is bandaged. She pays little attention to DICK and OX, except to greet them, as she crosses to her desk.)

GAYE:  Dick. Detective. You wranglers are starting early. Just like me sorta.

         (looking at her watch.)

Oh, sure. Look at the time. I’m really early. By hours even. For me. I should probably leave and come back later.

(She begins to exit.)

DICK:  Gaye. Si’down and back to work.

GAYE:  Back to work he says. Like I got work. I mean, I got work, don’t get me wrong, Dick. But I’m fast, see? Efficient. Like when you say, “Gaye, I need the usual typed asap to my landlady,” I don’t just type it up. I add all the niceties, like “Dear Mrs. Landlady” and “Would it behoove the generous missus to give me an extension on the rent?” and “I have been occupied in the fight against attacks on our country’s Manity” and “Yours, sincerely, till the end of time” and such.

DICK:  My head is stiff.

GAYE:  And look here, Dick.

         (showing the back of her hand, which has only two nails painted.)

I spent three hours on each nail yesterday, just to pass the time, because I’m too efficient and I got all your work done all lickety-split like you told me to. I figure at this rate and with eight nails left, I can keep myself busy for the next four days, if…

         (referring to the bandaged hand)

I don’t keep stabbing myself with my nail…file.

DICK:  Gaye, go home.

GAYE:  You’re right, Dick. It’s not right for a girl to go around with an injury and half-painted nails.

(She goes to exit again, more quickly this time.)

OX:  Gaye, go back to your desk and sit down.

GAYE:  But Ox! Dick, you tell ‘im!

(Ox finally releases Dick. He fakes a wind-up of a punch at Dick and Dick does a fake counter parry and blow. They drop it.)

OX:  I’m here on business, Dick.

DICK: Oh, yeah?

OX: Now, I know what you’re going to say.

DICK: No, you don’t.

OX: Yes, I do.

DICK: No. No, you don’t.

GAYE: Yeah, he does.

DICK: Then, what am I gonna say?

OX: Well. You’re going to say, “C’mon, Ox! You don’t want me for this kinda thing!”

DICK: What thing?

OX: Another crime against Manity.

DICK: C’mon, Ox!—

         (beat)

Aw, phooey! I just don’t know if I can do this anymore.

OX: But Dicky! We’re talking crimes against Manity!

DICK: Well I don’t feel very manly on those jobs.

GAYE: He wants fighting.

DICK: Yeah. That’s right.

GAYE: And adventure.

DICK: And adventure. And instead I get tested.

OX: Tested?

GAYE: On the Manity Code.

OX: So? You could recite that thing in your sleep.

DICK: But this time, a guy comes up to me saying, “Enemy fear the American beard!”

OX: Where?

DICK: In my sleep!

OX: Oh. OK. So he says, “Enemy fear the American beard!”

DICK: Right. But he circles me three times first.

OX: Like we done.

DICK: Yeah. And he goes to wrangle me.

OX: That’s good. Ain’t it?

DICK: I guess.

OX: You guess?

DICK: He’s enjoying it too much.

OX: Is that possible, to enjoy something too much?

DICK: He’s possessed or something, I don’t know, it’s a dream! And…

GAYE: And?

DICK: Well, he goes for my beard, Ox.

OX: Not the beard!

         (to GAYE)

He’s very particular about his beard.

GAYE: I know it.

OX: Why he don’t like guys to touch it.

GAYE: Yes, Ox.

OX: And why we’re such good wrangling buddies.

DICK: Yeah. That’s right, Ox.

OX: That’s a bad dream all right.

DICK: By the way, your beard is looking swell, Ox.

OX: Yours, too, as always. The best.

DICK: Thanks.

OX: But it was just a dream.

DICK: I don’t like tests.

OX: There was a test?

DICK: Yeah, Ox.

OX: I thought he went for the beard.

DICK: Yeah. But first I slug him, you know, to keep him away from the beard.

OX: And that’s why you’re stiff with the ice bag for the head.

GAYE: Still a dream, Ox.

DICK: Right. Except he’s even happier now, see? And he gets up close, looks me in the eye, and says—

OX: This is where you get tested!

DICK: That’s when he says—

GAYE: “Enemy fear the American beard!”

OX: And you say—

GAYE: “Gives us strength at any length!”

(OX and DICK look at GAYE suspiciously.)

GAYE (CONT'D): What? I know things.

OX: A doll ain’t supposed to know those things.

DICK: Well, I didn’t say that. Instead I say, “They better fear it!”

GAYE: Oooo! That sounds even tougher!

DICK: Thanks, Gaye.

OX: Well, I ain’t here for a test and this ain’t a dream. It’s crimes!

DICK: Crimes, you say.

OX: That’s right, crimes!

DICK: Like when the milk cart fell into the ditch and busted open?

GAYE: All those bearded men crying over the spilled milk.

DICK: I can’t be around crying men.

OX: I know it, but this—

DICK: Makes my big toe swell up. And Mafalda needed that milk for the cannoli.

OX: All right. So Mitchelly’s milk is the best.

GAYE: Her ricotta wouldn’t be the same without those cows of his.

DICK: Like heaven her cannoli is when they’re made with his milk.

OX: I wish I could have one now.

DICK: But you can’t. No. You want I should go and make sure the men don’t cry no more, instead of doing your job and making sure the roads are safe for milk carts so the men don’t cry to begin with!

OX: All right. You’re right. But this time it’s big!

DICK: Big, like when you caught all those dames outside barbecuing on July 4th?

OX: You can’t tell me that wasn’t shameful!

GAYE: It was like they was exercising their independence or something.

OX: Look. We don’t send men off to fight the war so’s our dames can kill themselves trying to work the grill at home.

(OX points out GAYE’s bandaged hand. She sticks her tongue out at him.)

DICK: And I wasn’t kept home from the war so’s I could do your dirty work. 

GAYE: They wouldn’t let him go due to his grout got really bad.

DICK: That’s ‘gout.’

         (back to Ox)

Now my beard and me would appreciate a little peace and quiet. If you don’t mind.

OX: Sure sure. If you still have one by the end of the day.

DICK: Thanks. What?

OX: It’s beards, Dicky. They’re disappearing.

DICK: Disappearing? From where?

OX: Where do you think? Off of faces.

DICK: Faces? You mean, like…?

OX: I mean like the thing on your skull.

DICK: Like the mug?

OX: Where else would a beard be?

GAYE: A billy goat.

OX: Billy goats got mugs.

GAYE: Oh. Yeah. So they do.

DICK: So. Disappearing. Right in front of your very eyes.

OX: No, not disappearing disappearing. I meant it figuratively.

GAYE: For dramatical effect.

OX: That’s right. Men all over town. Waking up in the morning. And their beards are gone.

DICK: Gone!

OX: Gone.

GAYE: Brr! I feel naked just thinking about it!

DICK: Mugs getting mugged!

OX: And each one was at Knuckles the night when it happened.

DICK: Knuckles!

         (reaching for his face instinctively)

I was there last night!

GAYE: That’s Dick for ya. Goes to a singles bar and gets caught in the act with an ice bag.

OX: It means you might be a target.

DICK: Maybe I was! And maybe my dream wasn’t a dream! He reached for my beard, Ox!

OX: What happened after you were tested?

DICK: OK, so, first he says—

OX and GAYE and DICK: “Enemy fear the American beard!”

DICK: Right, and I say, “You better fear it!”

OX: But that ain’t the response!

DICK: We established that! I wanted to get rid of him. And it worked sorta.

GAYE: I still like it better than the original.

DICK: So he starts to apologize, see? And he turns to go, but I notice something…strange about him.

OX: Yeah, he’s possessed.

DICK: No. Stranger. Like suddenly he’s me, looking at me like I’m him, reaching for my beard!

GAYE: Dream logic.

DICK: This ain’t a dream no more, remember?

GAYE: Oh, yeah.

DICK: And when he sees me seeing him which is me…well, that’s when he who is I knocks myself out. And next thing I know, I’m a stiff, waking up here with an ice bag on my head!

GAYE: You don’t sound right are you sure you’re all right?

DICK: Don’t you see? There’s someone out there stealing beards and trying to impostorize me!

OX: This is worse than I thought!

DICK: Detective, you got yourself a private dick.

OX: You mean it? Thanks, Dicky. You’re the best!

         (exiting)

Start with the guy over at Knuckles. That singer.

DICK: Singer?

OX: Yeah. What’s his name?

GAYE: Butch.

OX: That’s it.

DICK: Right. Butch.

GAYE: Funny how it’s the only name he forgets.

OX: But watch out for him. He’s wily, that one. Later, Dicky.

(OX exits. Pause.)

GAYE: You wanted adventure.

DICK:        (suddenly not in the mood)

My head hurts.

GAYE: Well, you got to get out there and prove yourself. Stir things up a bit, knock a few heads around.

DICK: If you was a guy, I could ask you to knock my head around. And maybe I’d finally come to my senses.

GAYE: Be careful what you ask for.

         (beat)

You just sit there and keep your hangover company, and I’ll go get you some Bromo-Seltzer. K?

         (grabbing her purse, stops.)

Don’t you worry your little head. Everything works out in the end, you know.

(GAYE kisses him gently on the forehead while his eyes are closed and he’s not looking. DICK has a look of bliss for a moment. GAYE has already turned to leave when he gives a half-hearted shooing motion with his hands because it’s the manly thing to do.)

GAYE: Back before you’re done dreaming.

(GAYE exits. Lights down.)

ACT I, Scene 3

Setting:       Newsreel. The following is done as a voiceover with the news items shown as film or acted on stage. If live-acted there is a translucent scrim with back lighting, a strobe, and projector sound effects, to simulate a projector.

At rise:       Wartime marching band music

VOICEOVER

Vigortone Movies presents Newsreels for the New World, the world’s only source for reel news!

City harbor, the twelfth of June, 1941. Mothers wave goodbye as their sons sail off with Alexander’s Army to fight the Glabors occupying East Africa. Never a more manful group of men assembled on one ship. The Glabors don’t stand a chance! And never a collection of such proud women. Oh, but here’s one woman who doesn’t look so happy. Don’t cry, Mother! You’re not losing a son, so much as gaining a regiment! Good bye, boys, and hello, men!

A boatload of beardless refugees passes Alexander’s Army on its way into the harbor. Tortured and thrown into concentration camps by the Glabors just for being manful, these brave souls found their way to the open arms of their adoptive Uncle Sam where they can be appreciated for the men they are and fight for Old Glory! And look. This young man is practically leaping off the boat to chase after the Navy ship. “Wait for me!” he shouts. Sorry, Son. You’ll need a beard before you’re allowed on that ride! I guess nothing says exhilaration like men in uniform!

But we all know that you gotta be a boy before you can be a man. And boy, oh boy is there a lot of work preparing for that job! Here’s little Johnny diligently studying The Manual, because he knows what word ‘manual’ begins with! How does it start, Johnny? Good boy! Chapter 1, Paragraph 1: “All real men get the yen; Rough and tough, and never enough!” Keep up the good work, Johnny! You never know when someone might stop you on the street and give you a pop quiz!

And keep up the good work, parents! Our future men depend on you to make America strong!

This has been a VigorTone presentation!

(Musical conclusion.)

ACT I, Scene 4

Setting:       City street, that morning.

At rise:       BOBBY with stack of newspapers beside him on the ground, some in his hand. He has no beard. He wears a jacket. When the men come to pay for the papers, the coins must be placed into BOBBY’s hand so that they touch.

BOBBY: Paper! Get your paper here! War Spreads to the West Indies! Alexander’s Army Proud to be the First Called Out!

(MAN #1 crosses to BOBBY, gives him a coin, takes a paper, punches BOBBY in the shoulder, and exits.)

BOBBY (CONT’D): Paper. Get your paper here. Parents Detained for not Encouraging Infant Son to Hit Back! Daughters of the Revolution to have Cupcakes Airlifted to Front!

(MAN #2 crosses to BOBBY, gives him a coin, takes a paper, punches BOBBY in the same shoulder, and exits.)

BOBBY (CONT’D):    (less enthusiastically)

Paper. Get your paper here. USS Braun Delivers Boatload of Manful Men Eager to Join Alexander’s Army! Dames for Democracy Want to Drop ‘Love Bomb’ Over Glabor Territory, Guys with Grit think it Dumb...

(MAN #3 crosses to BOBBY, gives the boy a coin, and takes a paper. BOBBY positions himself so he gets punched in the other shoulder, but gets punched in the same shoulder nonetheless. When the MAN #3 has left, BOBBY looks both ways, pulls a couple of pads out of his back pockets and slips them inside his shirt over his shoulders.  BARNEY walks in just as BOBBY is finishing up.)

BOBBY (CONT’D):    (sarcasm)

Paper. Get your paper here. City’s Violent Streak at an All-time High...

         (seeing BARNEY)

...er...Spoiled only by Horrifying Crimes Against Manity! Good morning, Mr. Officer. Paper?

(BARNEY writes the boy a ticket, puts out his hand. BOBBY takes the pads out and hands them to BARNEY. BARNEY grabs a paper, punches BOBBY, hard, and starts to walk off.)

BOBBY (CONT’D):    (rubbing himself, directed at BARNEY.)

Get your paper here. Paper Boy Pulverized! Needs Mechanical Arm Replacement Surgery! Doomed to Life of Automobile Assemblage!

(BOBBY looks around, pulls out a spare set of pads, and slips them over his shoulders. SHADY MAN, who has seen this whole transaction from the shadows crosses to BOBBY, gives him a coin, takes a paper, looks at the boy for moment, writes something on a card, and hands it to the boy.)

SHADY MAN: I think this might be just what you need.

(DICK enters and sees this transaction. SHADY MAN begins to walk off, thinks better of it, stops, gives BOBBY a punch in the shoulder, though hardly forceful. He exits.)

DICK: Bobby.

BOBBY: Oh, hey, Mr. Dick.

DICK: How’s tricks?

BOBBY: Copacetic, Mr. Dick.

         (calling out)

Paper! Grand Display of Barbarity Believed to be the Key to Peace!

         (back to DICK)

Nary a trouble in the world.

DICK: Who was that handed you the card?

BOBBY: Who else? Some boob with something to sell.

DICK: Sales. Not a very manly profession.

BOBBY:    (sarcastically)

Paper, Mr. Dick? You won’t be able to live without it.

DICK: Oh. Sure.

         (paying for the paper, he sees the citation)

Another ticket?

BOBBY: My mother’s gonna kill me.

DICK: You should be so lucky.

BOBBY: Thanks, Mr. Dick. You’re very comforting.

DICK: I mean she used to beat us boys up until The War started. It was terrible. Her whiskers is what makes her stronger.

         (beat)

So, do you think they call men ‘boobs’ because they’re like dames with...you know...?

BOBBY: Boobs?

DICK: Shhh! Not so loud with the language! It ain’t polite!

(Pause while DICK looks at the paper.)

BOBBY: Get your paper here! President Clark Says ‘No’ to Enemy Abuses of Manful Men Around the Globe! Restates Invitation to Join Alexander’s Army!

(DICK turns paper to show BOBBY.)

DICK: Have you seen this man here?

BOBBY: No one like that.

DICK: Take a good look.

BOBBY: All peacocks I know got feathers.

DICK: Not this one.

BOBBY: Poor sap. He might as well put on a dress and join the knitting circle.

DICK: We never seen anything like it.

BOBBY: Kinda took the cock out of his doodle doo.

DICK: A grown man losing his beard’s a joke to you? Huh?

BOBBY: No, Mr. Dick.

DICK: Don’t you realize what it is to be a man in this country?

BOBBY: Yes, Mr. Dick.

DICK: Do you think we’re out here every morning for our jollies? Slugging you in the arm like we don’t got nothing else to do?

BOBBY: Could be, Mr. Dick.

DICK: What did you say?

BOBBY: Nothin’.

DICK: Go ahead. Out with it.

BOBBY: Well, it stinks, that’s what! I’ll be a cripple before I even get to Juvie. What kinda man will I be then with no arms? I won’t be any man, that’s what kinda man. I’ll be Venus de Milo!

DICK: Bobby! Bobby! Calm yourself! We’re not gonna let anything happen to you. We’re just here to toughen you up a bit. Buck up. If you don’t got arms, you use your legs, and if you don’t got legs, you use your head. And if you got no head, well, then, you’re more man than any of us! Be tough, Bobby, and if you’re lucky, you may get to fight for this country of ours.

BOBBY: But I ain’t tough. And I ain’t good at fighting!

DICK: It’s on account of you ain’t got a father.

BOBBY: But you just said it was my ma beat you up.

DICK: Don’t change the subject.

BOBBY: Yes, Mr. Dick. Mr. Dick?

DICK: Yeah, Bobby.

BOBBY: How do you do it? Didn’t you ever not want to hit anybody?

DICK: Sure! Dames, for one.

BOBBY: Other than dames, I mean.

DICK: Never. Once. But it ain’t good, got that? Ever. It starts with just a handshake, then a sort of, you know, hug. A manly hug that turns into a...a ho...ho...

BOBBY: Holding?

DICK:        (nods)

And then it’s all downhill from there.

BOBBY: But if you’re so good at being manful, why ain’t you in Alexander’s Army? Why ain’t you fighting, Mr. Dick?

DICK: I am fighting! Just not over seas is all. But I’m on the front lines every day, making sure we don’t get soft. Right here, at home, is where my battleground is. You understand? We’re here to make sure those deviants don’t ruin our country; to make men out of our men so they can be manly and such. Or else. Or else, Bobby! The enemy will run roughshod all over us like we was hairless weaklings! Is that what you want? Is it?

(By the end of his speech, Dick has grabbed BOBBY by the shoulders and shaken him for emphasis, with painful results.)

BOBBY: No, Mr. Dick. Now can you please do me the honor of lettin’ go of me on account of I’m sore?

DICK: Sure, sure. Be good. Keep your nose clean.

BOBBY: Never a nose more immaculate, Mr. Dick.

DICK: Oh, and I touched you, a lot, so you understand, right Bobby?

BOBBY: Sure, Mr. Dick. No one more understanding than me. My understanding, it is also immaculate. They call it the immaculate conception.

DICK: Yeah, right.

(DICK takes the pads out from BOBBY’s shoulders, hands them to BOBBY, punches him, and exits awkwardly. BOBBY pulls out the card SHADY MAN gave him and reads it.)

BOBBY: Barbs.

 (Lights down.)