Thanks to Paul K. Smith for allowing NYCPlaywrights to publish this excerpt from his play.
Would be no problem at all -Would be so easy to just blow your head off. Women die every day.
So do men. . .
(Not seeming to notice Ramón’s parting words: )
(Does) Adolfo ever stay put?
(Mel-anya shakes her head in disbelief.)
He doesn’t? You know, when I first came here -- found you’d married Adolfo Drumpf -- I was dumpfounded. I would never have pictured you, and him, together.
(= Instead of you and me.)
Nor I, mon ami. Never, ever, ever.
(He looks at her closely, then:)
Mel-anya-- You may not want to stay here for this. Ramón -- Ramon!!!!!!!!
(MEL-ANYA scurries out, exchanging looks with RAMÓN as he enters: her look says, ‘See, my avenger is standing up for me.’ A look that does not faze Ramón one whit.).
Ramón, where are you going? Get back here.
Mr. Drumpf wanted me to go with him—
Not so fast. You think what you’re doing makes the grade? I don’t think so.
Oh what do I got to do?
You’re still an apprentice for this job. Don’t forget that. Lazaro! would you come over here?
(An old gardener pads over, very leery.)
At ease, Gomez. Ramón, this is Lazaro. Lazaro Gomez. Now Ramón, you keep this secret-- okay? You are not a Drumpf employee till until you pass “o peira” – until you pass the test. The test of a man. Well, guess what we have here? our gardener --Show Ramón your tools-- our gardener Lazaro is in the country without papers.
You mean he’s an illegal? Well, Mr. Drumpf hates illegals. They are like germs. We’re not safe from their impur-i-ties. From their contagion.
And with germs -- we need germ warfare.
(Nick puts a fat revolver in Ramón’s hand.)
Put yours away. This one’s clean. You understand the job, Ramón?
Yessir. No problemo.
You know what needs to be done here. Ethnic cleansing. If you sincerely want to be hired.
(NICK exits. RAMÓN checks the sights on the gun by firing it. Lazaro Gomez falls to the dirt, dead, still holding a gardening tool. The shot is a siren call to DRUMPF. He stalks in, sees Lazaro Gomez the gardener is dead. And sees Ramón holding the smoking gun. Takes command. NICK enters, deflects Drumpf’s fury from himself to Ramón. )
My God what have you done!!? I said, take him out. Not, kill him: deport him.