Features

Misc.

By PETER SOLOMON
Friday May 09, 2003

EXTERIOR. DAY. Rubble-strewn street. A lone soldier, heavily armed, is standing guard.  

 

ENTER THREE MEN, disguised as state department officials, holding their kevlar-lined briefcases in front of their faces. 

 

SOLDIER: Halt! Who goes there. 

 

CHICO: Who’s on first!  

 

GROUCHO: That’s not our number, you idiot. It’s better to flatter them. Watch. [to the soldier] Good morning, Major. 

 

SOLDIER: Actually it’s General. I’m working undercover as a private to put an end to this stone throwing. [a stone flies by] Hey, aren’t you the Marx Brothers? 

 

GROUCHO: We were but we had to change our names — nobody will book an act named Marx. 

 

SOLDIER: Tough. But what are you doing here? 

 

CHICO: We can’t say.  

 

GROUCHO: You’ve heard of Mata Hari? [does a little shimmy] 

 

SOLDIER: Did he play for Buffalo? 

 

CHICO: [points to Harpo] What do you see? 

 

SOLDIER: Blonde? 

 

CHICO: Blonde. James Blonde. [Harpo tosses his curls; Chico catches them and puts them back.] 

 

[A stone comes flying past.] 

 

SOLDIER: [running after stone] I’ll get that rock if it’s the last thing I do.  

 

CHICO: Tell me, what are these WMDs? What are we looking for anyway? 

 

GROUCHO: It’s simple. You got your W, that’s for weapon 

 

CHICO: W for weapons, right. 

 

GROUCHO: You got your M, that’s for mass. You know about mass? 

 

CHICO: I should. I go every Sunday at nine. 

 

GROUCHO: Not that mass. 

 

CHICO: Well sometimes I go at 11. 

 

GROUCHO: Mass is everywhere -- even people have mass. Haven’t you heard of the masses? 

 

CHICO: I don’t know — hum a few bars, maybe I’ll remember it. 

 

HARPO: [writes on a blackboard E=mc squared] 

 

CHICO: [studies the board] Now I get it! It’s like mass production! 

 

GROUCHO: No no no.  

 

CHICO: But that’s great — if you got mass destruction [points to the wreckage all around] then you need mass production.  

 

GROUCHO: That’s not destruction. It’s collateral damage. 

 

CHICO: Lateral like in football, to the side? 

 

GROUCHO: Not lateral, CO-lateral. That means to the side no matter which way you face.  

 

CHICO: [inspecting the rubble] I think I get it. 

 

GROUCHO: [inspecting his watch] this is an outrage. Our contact has not liaised as promised 

 

[A WOMAN: ENTERS] 

 

CHICO: Maybe that’s it. 

 

GROUCHO: I’ll try the code. Pardon me miss, but are you going our way? 

 

WOMAN: Not if I can help it. 

 

GROUCHO: Actually, we just need directions. 

 

WOMAN: That’s easy. Go home. 

 

CHICO: Go home? 

 

WOMAN: You want a second opinion? 

 

GROUCHO: Sure. 

 

WOMAN: Go home now.  

 

[WALKS OFF as a young boy comes running in, pockets bursting with stones] 

 

BOY: Hey! You the guys looking for weapons of mass destruction? 

 

GROUCHO: It’s possible. 

 

BOY: Is there a reward? 

 

CHICO: Could be. 

 

BOY: There’s one just a little way down the road. It has a code name on it — I’m sure it’s the right one. 

 

GROUCHO: We’ll decide that, sonny. What’s the code? 

 

BOY: B five two.  

[DISSOLVE]