And they say to me, (Stepdaughter speaks) “Don’t you know this is your mother, too?” (Son continues) Little by little I begin to understand. But I’m out of it. Believe me, I’m an undeveloped dramatic character, and I’m very uncomfortable in their company. So please leave me out of it.

FATHER: But it’s because of your feelings that…

SON: (exasperated) What do you know about my feelings? When have you ever shown the slightest interest in my feelings?

FATHER: Yes, I admit that’s true. But this coldness of yours, this withdrawal, it’s cruel to me and it’s criminal to your mother. When she came back to the house and saw you for the first time, imagine what she felt knowing you were her son but not being able to recognize you…. (points out the Mother to the actors) There, look, she’s crying.

STEPDAUGHTER: (angrily) Damned fool.

FATHER: (turning toward the Son) He says he’s out of it, but he’s really the crux of the action. Look at this little boy here, who’s always hanging on to this mother, scared, humiliated. And all because of that one there! Maybe this little boy has the biggest problem of all. He feels like the real outsider, more than the others. He feels so ashamed, so humiliated, just being in the house. He feels like a charity case, you see. (quietly) Just like his father—shy, quiet, reserved.

WILL: (W. C. Fields voice) Never get on the stage with kids or dogs.

FATHER: He won’t be on stage long. Neither will the little girl—she’s the first to go.

JEREMY: Look, sir, I have to admit, you’ve got me. Your story is fascinating—quite fascinating. I think it’s got the makings of a good play.

STEPDAUGHTER: (trying to push in) Especially when it features a character like me.

FATHER: (pushing her away, wanting to hear what Jeremy has to say) Just stay out of it!

JEREMY: (ignoring the interruption) And if nothing else, it’s original.

FATHER: Oh, absolutely original! I told you so.

JEREMY: But you must admit it was awfully pushy the way you barged your way in here.

FATHER: I’m sure you understand. We see a stage and we can’t stay away from it.

TOMMY: You’re actors, are you? Where—in community theatre?

FATHER: No, no, we’re attracted to the stage because …

JEREMY: Tommy, I think they may be pros. They handle themselves very well.

FATHER: (angrily) I’m not an actor.

TOMMY: Sorry.

FATHER: (back in control) No, like most people I can only act the part I’ve chosen for myself, or that’s been chosen for me. But as you see, the role sometimes runs away from me, and I get a little melodramatic. All of us do.

JEREMY: Yes, I have heard that said. The story is fascinating, but as a play it needs polishing; it needs a playwright. I can give you the names and addresses of some agents …

FATHER: No, no. Look, here’s the thing. Why doesn’t your company do it?

KAREN: Us? What’s he talking about?

FATHER: Yes, you. Why not?

CHUCK: But none of us have ever written anything. Jeremy wrote something once, but they wouldn’t even do it on TV.

FATHER: Why not start now? It’s simple. And it’ll be easier for you, because all the characters are right here, alive in front of your eyes.

JEREMY: That’s not enough.

FATHER: But why not? After you’ve seen us live out our drama …

JEREMY: We still need someone to write it.

FATHER: Write it down, you mean. Because it’s going to happen right in front of you, live, in color, scene by scene, line by line.