HAPPY TALK
By Ron Kampeas
Voice over
Woman newsreader
Man newsreader
A TV news set. Two news readers, a woman and a man, are chatting silently. As rapidfire news music begins, they swivel and look toward the “camera,” the audience.
VOICE OVER
This is the 6 p.m. I Told You So.
WOMAN NEWS READER
(All of the following is delivered in a flat, serious newsroom tone.)
This is the 6 p.m. I Told You So, and I’m your mother.
(Glances at notes.)
Of course there are bullies. You thought because it was private there won’t be bullies? I told you there would be bullies.
He’s sensitive. You can see by the way he plays the guitar. Of course he’s sensitive. I told you so.
Crush half a clove of garlic. A clump of parsley to take the stink away. Of course it’s bland. Without the garlic, it’s bland. I told you so.
(Swivels to another camera.)
Who buys retail? I told you not to buy retail. If you want to burn money, here’s a match.
Subprime? What were you thinking?
I told you so.
(Swivels back)
He’s fickle. By me, he eats chicken. I squeeze a little lemon into it. I’ve told you a hundred times about the lemon. At least.
He’s been fickle since he was born. I told you then. Of course you don’t remember. You were on morphine. You weren’t listening. Not that you ever listen.
I told you so.
Leave him alone. He knows what’s good for him.
What did I say? A shmuck. An arrogant shmuck. I said it years ago. Like your uncle. Ex-uncle. Thank god.
Exactly. I told you then. He’s funny, you said. I know what’s behind those jokes. He jokes and then breaks something and won’t fix it. He won’t listen.
A leader, you said. A leader thinks, I said. He stops and thinks. Did you listen?
I told you so.
How many are dead? Three thousand four hundred.
More. And that’s just our boys and girls. How many Iraqis are dead?
I see the mothers.
And the babies.
(Breaks a little; Composes herself.)
This I never foresaw.
And now for a word from your father.
(Looks toward Man Newsreader.)
MAN NEWSREADER.
(Resigned, with an unobtrusive sigh:)
Oy.
WOMAN NEWSREADER
And now for the weather.
(Swivels again.)
It isn’t a raincoat. It’s a shmatta. I told you it would be like this. Look at him cough. You want to kill him, do it quick, with mercy. I’m going to buy him a raincoat. A real one.
(Swivels back.)
Wrapping up, get him a new guitar. He broke it by mistake. He didn’t mean it. If you don’t, I will.
Children are all we’ve got. Such naches. But a pain, I told you so.
You’re a good mother. I knew you would be.
Listen to that cough. I told you so.
Get him the guitar.
This has been the 6 pm edition of I Told You So. I’m your mother and I’ll be back at 11 with an update.
(Rapidfire news music.)
VOICE OVER
This has been the 6 p.m. I Told You So, with your mother.



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