Read Online Sexual Perversity in Chicago and the Duck Variations by David Mamet - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Mamet
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Blown by storms.
EMIL :
You know, that is not a laughing matter . . .
GEORGE :
Who's laughing?
EMIL :
Much wildlife is, I am about to tell you, killed each year in storms and similar . . . things where they have a lot of wind.
GEORGE :
Don't I know it.
EMIL :
Another countless danger for the duck.
GEORGE :
Frost, too.
EMIL :
Hail.
GEORGE :
Uh.
EMIL :
Can you imagine it?
GEORGE :
. . . Hail . . .
EMIL :
Pelting the poor creature. Alone in the sky. Many feet in the air. He can't go right, he can't go left. . . .
GEORGE :
Nowhere to go.
EMIL :
Hail all over. Hitting him. Pelting him. Making ribbons of his wings. Creaming him out of the sky.
GEORGE :
The Law of Life.
EMIL :
That's what you say now.
GEORGE :
Some must die so others can live.
EMIL :
But they must die, too.
GEORGE :
So some must die so others can live a little longer. That's implied.
EMIL :
And then they die.
GEORGE :
Of course. So that others can live. It makes sense if you think about it.
THIRTEENTH VARIATION
“They Stuff Them”
EMIL :
They stuff them.
GEORGE :
Eh?
EMIL :
They stuff them. They shoot them and they stuff them.
GEORGE :
So long as they're dead.
EMIL :
Sawdust. And they tack ‘em on the wall.
GEORGE :
Also they stuff ‘em for the oven.
EMIL :
That too.
GEORGE :
Yeah.
EMIL :
But to kill for no reason . . . without rhyme or reason . . . to shoot them. What a waste.
GEORGE :
Yes.
EMIL :
What a waste in the life of a duck. To be shot. And not even eaten. Shot. Shot down like some animal.
GEORGE :
At least they shoot ‘em in the air.
EMIL :
Huh?
GEORGE :
Yeah! What do you think? You can't shoot ‘em on foot? What!?
EMIL :
Yeah?
GEORGE :
They got laws. Seasons. Didn't you ever hear of Duck Season?
EMIL :
Of course.
GEORGE :
Well, duck season is when you can kill ‘em. Legally.
EMIL :
And when is it?
GEORGE :
Duck season?
EMIL :
Yeah.
GEORGE :
Uh, the spring. Several weeks . . . The fall several weeks.
EMIL :
. . . whenever the duck is around!
GEORGE :
No, it's . . .
EMIL :
Eh?
GEORGE :
No, I . . .
EMIL :
Eh?
GEORGE :
Well . . . ?
EMIL :
EH?
GEORGE :
. . . yeah!
EMIL :
They got the season so the only time it's not legal to shoot ‘em is when they ain't here. . . . yeah.
EMIL :
They're no dummies.
GEORGE :
Yeah.
EMIL :
Influence . . . strings.
GEORGE :
It ain't cheap to hunt ducks.
EMIL :
Are you kidding me?
GEORGE :
No. You need land.
EMIL :
You need a lot of land.
GEORGE :
At least a mile. And you need . . .
EMIL :
Guns.
GEORGE :
One gun only.
EMIL :
And a spare.
GEORGE :
And some ammo to put in the gun.
EMIL :
Telescope.
GEORGE :
And those hats.
EMIL :
A blatter to call them.
GEORGE :
Not always necessary.
EMIL :
But good to have in an emergency. . . . A bag to put them in.
GEORGE :
Big boots.
EMIL :
A raincoat.
GEORGE :
A radio.
EMIL :
You gotta take lunch.
GEORGE :
You need a lotta things.
EMIL :
A license.
GEORGE :
And a lot of luck.
EMIL :
Oh, yes.
GEORGE :
It's easy to pick out a little wobbling duck from miles in a clear blue sky?
EMIL :
No.
GEORGE :
A LOT of luck.
EMIL :
And practice.
GEORGE :
Who's got the time?
EMIL :
Every day. A half hour anyway. Practicing . . .
GEORGE :
. . . is where they separate the men from the boys. At that moment there is no turning back. You're committed. You've been blatting around and searching the sky and crouching ‘till your back hurts. From dawn on.
EMIL :
Yes.
GEORGE :
Lying on the cold Earth, trying not to look like anything. Hoping. Praying for that ONE DUCK . . .
EMIL :
A low flying duck . . .
GEORGE :
That one chance to show what dreams are made of. Until . . .
EMIL :
Yes?
GEORGE :
Until . . . off in the distance. Beyond the horizon ‘til you don't even know what it is, is a honking. The honking comes closer. Closer and louder. You see a far-off blur. The blur becomes a speck. The speck gets bigger. It's a big speck. It's a dot. The dot is advancing and it's honking and the honking is louder and becomes clear and precise. You can just make it out. Flapping.Flying straight in a line to join
Blown by storms.
EMIL :
You know, that is not a laughing matter . . .
GEORGE :
Who's laughing?
EMIL :
Much wildlife is, I am about to tell you, killed each year in storms and similar . . . things where they have a lot of wind.
GEORGE :
Don't I know it.
EMIL :
Another countless danger for the duck.
GEORGE :
Frost, too.
EMIL :
Hail.
GEORGE :
Uh.
EMIL :
Can you imagine it?
GEORGE :
. . . Hail . . .
EMIL :
Pelting the poor creature. Alone in the sky. Many feet in the air. He can't go right, he can't go left. . . .
GEORGE :
Nowhere to go.
EMIL :
Hail all over. Hitting him. Pelting him. Making ribbons of his wings. Creaming him out of the sky.
GEORGE :
The Law of Life.
EMIL :
That's what you say now.
GEORGE :
Some must die so others can live.
EMIL :
But they must die, too.
GEORGE :
So some must die so others can live a little longer. That's implied.
EMIL :
And then they die.
GEORGE :
Of course. So that others can live. It makes sense if you think about it.
THIRTEENTH VARIATION
“They Stuff Them”
EMIL :
They stuff them.
GEORGE :
Eh?
EMIL :
They stuff them. They shoot them and they stuff them.
GEORGE :
So long as they're dead.
EMIL :
Sawdust. And they tack ‘em on the wall.
GEORGE :
Also they stuff ‘em for the oven.
EMIL :
That too.
GEORGE :
Yeah.
EMIL :
But to kill for no reason . . . without rhyme or reason . . . to shoot them. What a waste.
GEORGE :
Yes.
EMIL :
What a waste in the life of a duck. To be shot. And not even eaten. Shot. Shot down like some animal.
GEORGE :
At least they shoot ‘em in the air.
EMIL :
Huh?
GEORGE :
Yeah! What do you think? You can't shoot ‘em on foot? What!?
EMIL :
Yeah?
GEORGE :
They got laws. Seasons. Didn't you ever hear of Duck Season?
EMIL :
Of course.
GEORGE :
Well, duck season is when you can kill ‘em. Legally.
EMIL :
And when is it?
GEORGE :
Duck season?
EMIL :
Yeah.
GEORGE :
Uh, the spring. Several weeks . . . The fall several weeks.
EMIL :
. . . whenever the duck is around!
GEORGE :
No, it's . . .
EMIL :
Eh?
GEORGE :
No, I . . .
EMIL :
Eh?
GEORGE :
Well . . . ?
EMIL :
EH?
GEORGE :
. . . yeah!
EMIL :
They got the season so the only time it's not legal to shoot ‘em is when they ain't here. . . . yeah.
EMIL :
They're no dummies.
GEORGE :
Yeah.
EMIL :
Influence . . . strings.
GEORGE :
It ain't cheap to hunt ducks.
EMIL :
Are you kidding me?
GEORGE :
No. You need land.
EMIL :
You need a lot of land.
GEORGE :
At least a mile. And you need . . .
EMIL :
Guns.
GEORGE :
One gun only.
EMIL :
And a spare.
GEORGE :
And some ammo to put in the gun.
EMIL :
Telescope.
GEORGE :
And those hats.
EMIL :
A blatter to call them.
GEORGE :
Not always necessary.
EMIL :
But good to have in an emergency. . . . A bag to put them in.
GEORGE :
Big boots.
EMIL :
A raincoat.
GEORGE :
A radio.
EMIL :
You gotta take lunch.
GEORGE :
You need a lotta things.
EMIL :
A license.
GEORGE :
And a lot of luck.
EMIL :
Oh, yes.
GEORGE :
It's easy to pick out a little wobbling duck from miles in a clear blue sky?
EMIL :
No.
GEORGE :
A LOT of luck.
EMIL :
And practice.
GEORGE :
Who's got the time?
EMIL :
Every day. A half hour anyway. Practicing . . .
GEORGE :
. . . is where they separate the men from the boys. At that moment there is no turning back. You're committed. You've been blatting around and searching the sky and crouching ‘till your back hurts. From dawn on.
EMIL :
Yes.
GEORGE :
Lying on the cold Earth, trying not to look like anything. Hoping. Praying for that ONE DUCK . . .
EMIL :
A low flying duck . . .
GEORGE :
That one chance to show what dreams are made of. Until . . .
EMIL :
Yes?
GEORGE :
Until . . . off in the distance. Beyond the horizon ‘til you don't even know what it is, is a honking. The honking comes closer. Closer and louder. You see a far-off blur. The blur becomes a speck. The speck gets bigger. It's a big speck. It's a dot. The dot is advancing and it's honking and the honking is louder and becomes clear and precise. You can just make it out. Flapping.Flying straight in a line to join
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