The Right Wing
A play
By Gutenberg
Act II, scene 1.
Setup: It is a dark and stormy night. There is a rampart, and two people are watching o’er the rampart. A short man wearing a grey flannel suit and a homburg hat approaches.
JOHN BIRCH. Hail, o hail Horatio!
MAN. My name is not Horatio. It’s Bill.
JOHN BIRCH. Well, Bill then. Did you watch o’er the rampart?
BILL. Yes, o’er the rampart we watched.
JOHN BIRCH. And what did you see at the twilight’s last gleaming?
BILL. Creeping Communism. Slithering Socialism, a couple of Reds under the bed, three fellow travelers traveling, two Bolshies leaping and a pinko in a union hall.
JOHN BIRCH. Joe would be so proud.
WOMAN (behind Bill, also watching o’er the ramparts) Joe? Joe the Plumber?
JOHN BIRCH. McCarthy. Great guy. Gawd he was fun when he’d had a few. Wait—say, you look familiar.
WOMAN (coquettishly). Well, I should.
JOHN BIRCH. Naw, it can’t be. The Council on Foreign Affairs? 1956? Drank Singapore Slings till you found out they were pink?
WOMAN. That’s me!
JOHN BIRCH and the WOMAN exit stage left. JOHN BIRCH can be heard sweetly singing songs from “John Philip Sousa’s Greatest Love Marches.” BILL keeps his lonely watch o’er the rampart.