To my universally celebrated works of drama, The Happy Bed-Chamber and The News-Paper Man And The Elves, I would like to add my third and most ambitious effort to date, The Syphilis-Crazed Young Norwegian Man.
OSVALD, a young man.
OSVALD'S MOTHER, Osvald's mother.
PASTOR MANDERS, family friend.
P. THURMAN ZEEBULL, famed publisher and author of this play.
HENRIK IBSEN, playwright.
ACT ONE. The drawing-room of a cottage by the sea.
Enter OSVALD'S MOTHER and PASTOR MANDERS.
PASTOR MANDERS: Your son Osvald has grown into a fine young man, Osvald's Mother.
OSVALD'S MOTHER: Yet, Pastor Manders, I fear he shall be cut down in his very prime. He was infected with the clap during conception by Osvald's Father, a wayward sea-captain who is presumed lost at sea. The boy can go crackers any second.
PASTOR MANDERS: My word!
ACT TWO. Same setting. Enter OSVALD.
OSVALD: I feel as right as rain.
GHOST: I am the ghost of your sea-captain father. I'm afraid I infected you with the clap during conception. Sorry.
OSVALD: Oh, damn. Now you tell me.
[OSVALD lets loose a stream of gibberish and bounces out of the drawing room on his head.]
OSVALD'S MOTHER: Osvald! Osvald!!
INTERMISSION. Concessions may be sold in the lobby.
ACT THREE. Same setting. Enter P. THURMAN ZEEBULL.
P. THURMAN ZEEBULL: This play I wrote is very exciting.
[Enter HENRIK IBSEN.]
HENRIK IBSEN: You American son of a bitch, you ripped off my play Ghosts.
P. THURMAN ZEEBULL: Quite so, and if anything, I improved it greatly. Yours was very boring.
HENRIK IBSEN: Have at you, sir! I shall obtain satisfaction!
[IBSEN brandishes a duelling epee, but before he can attack, ZEEBULL runs him over with his wheel-chair. IBSEN dies.]
ZEEBULL: Huzzah! America is the greatest land of all!