THE FAMILY MAN'S MAGAZINE

Y O U B O YMAY, 1964

To previous Andrean editors who have claimed"original presentations," we dedicate this edition.In the most literary sense, this issue is a papertiger, and to render this tiger harmless, we havedecorated him with tar and feathers. Our attemptto describe him through a play, a short story, andseveral articles has served to confound this alreadyhopeless situation. For fear that it might be mis-interpreted as a harmless abstraction, we illustrateda source of his woe with provocative art.

This edition may well be remembered as theAndrean of conclusions: the conclusion of theeditors that a staff-written Andrean was not onlypossible, but worthwhile and effective; the con-clusion of our readers under twenty that this istheir favorite Andrean; and the conclusion of ourreaders over twenty that this may be the conclusionof The Andrean. To any readers whom we havenot included in our two categories, we have amore personal message: please do not form anyconclusions yet. And read this Andrean open-mindedly. Then choose your sides.

. . . the editors

THE FAMILY MAN'S MAGAZINE

Y O U B O YVol. 26 No. 1 — May 1964

CONTENTS

The Youboy Advisor 2

Youboy Club News 3

Youboy Philosophy 4

James Blonde—fiction 4Ian Flamingo

Streetcar Named Irving — drama 6Lord Tennyson Williams

Sharon Marlowe — a picturesque knitter 13

Youboy Gourmet and Bartender 15Drunken Hines

You^oy Interview: Senator Barry Coldwater 16

Pigskin Preview 18

STAFF

Editors Stanley W. Hudson and David A. McWethy

Associate Editors Curtis M. Coward, Harry M. Parker,Stephen H. Munroe, Jackson H. Pope,

Fred W. Coleman, James C. HuntJonathan C. Smith, Angus K. Davis,

Win D. Schwab

Art Editor Thomas Wilson

Typists John P. Herndon, R. Robbins Romaine,Christopher Freinek, Stephen Munroe

Technical Consultant Christopher G. Boyle

THE YOUBOY ADVISOR

For the last two years I have carried orf anextremely intimate relationship with a voluptuoussecretary at the home office of my company inSacramento. Unfortunately, I've now been trans-ferred to Los Angeles and have been spendingtime with my equally sedeuctive boss's daughter.The problem is that my first woman has nowwrangled a transfer to this office and naturallyexpects the same arrangement. Now this is justtoo good to give up. So, unless you devise ameans of keeping both I'll be most unhappy. Ienclose the floor plan to my apartment so thatyou might have all the details available. Of theircharacters, besides what I have implied, I canonly say they wouldn't appreciate finding eachother out and would undoubtedly not look favor-ably on my deceiving them.

B. S., Los Angeles, Calif.

Your problem has been intriguing our staff ofexperts, but disregarding economy, which pleadsfor the boss's daughter, and practicality, whichasks for one or the other, we have decided forpleasure, calling for both "ladies." Though ivecannot (for want of space) publish your floor plan,it does suggest a number of possibilities. B. S.,we'll send you our findings immediately, and wepromise quick, long-lasting results or your floorplan back, which incidentally we hope to incor-porate in our new Algiers Youboy Penthouse.

All through high school I lifted weights untilnow I find myself with a monstrous chest and avery slim waist. However, I neglected leg devel-opment and have extremely skinny calves. Howcan I get back in shape?

W. H., Chestertown, Md.

We suggest that you consume a gallon of beera. day until your waist is as big around as yourchest. At this point the added weight on yourlegs will develop your muscles proportionately toyour new physique; thus, you will have combinedpleasure with physical fitness.

I am a twenty-five year-old worker in a largesteel mill and am really an athletic type, yet thegirls are all flocking to a puny college guy who

sports a Phi Beta Kappa key. Tell me how can Iget one and get in on all the fun.

T. S. F., Millersville, Pa.

Your key to success will be to lay .off millingsteel and steal his key. If puny complains, stealhis diploma too. If he threatens legal action, turnthe key back and purchase a Youboy Club key thatlooks just as good and opens the door to pleasure,not knowledge. Then see ivho the girls flock to.

In response to your answer to my question inthe November 1963 issue, I wish to rephrase"When to use Jr.,11 and III after a name." Despiteyour lengthy discussion of the chronology ofthese abbreviations, Jr. for a person named afterthe father, II after grandfather, etc., I still won-der if these should be added on cards, letterheadsor invitations.

V. C, Austin, Tex.

Yes.

I am a colorblind parking meter checker whowas recently reassigned to the vice squad. SinceI have difficulty determining red from other col-ors, how do I distinguish healthy houses fromhouses of ill-repute?

J. K. T. V., Savannah, Ga.

You should investigate thoroughly each housebefore making a raid.

At a small party held in the living room of afriend, I was feeling happy and knocked over avaluable 14th century matched glass vase valuedat about $700. Before I had a chance to apologizeto my host, he non-chalantly flipped its partnerover his shoulder, causing an equally horrifyingresult. There was general approval, but I can nothelp feeling this called more attention to myaccident and was an undue show of graciousness.

T. S., Vero Beach, Fla.

On the contrary, we whole-heartedly agree withthis gallantry to show that the breakage wouldhardly smash him or you. Since his assets wouldundoubtedly swell our Youboy Reader Averages,we beg you to send your host's name and address.

nubop (ttlubYouboy Goes International

GALA OPENINGS IN PANAMA,HAITI, AND CYPRUS

DAZZLING CLUB FASCINATESCYPRUS FIRST-NIGHTERS

Nicosia — Cyprus was the host of a resound-ing night of festivity as the Nicosia Youboy Clubmade its gala opening. First-nighters were simplydazzled as they viewed the splendor of the Clubthat was opening its doors to the world on Febru-ary third. Keyholders, amused at the cooperationbetween Turkish bartenders and Greek waiters,agreed that never before had such a spectaclegraced Cyprus. The Youboy Club Storkies, abevy of scantily clad beauties that had been sentby U Thant to keep the mingling of the waitersand bartenders to a bare minimum, kept all of themale keyholders ogling. As the celebration nearedits zenith, Archbishop Makarios arrived arm-in-arm with Queen Fredrika of Greece and quicklyretired to a dark corner, away from the crowds ofkeyholders and out of the firing range of the Tur-kish bartenders.

YOUBOY HAITI CLUBRESOUNDING SUCCESS

Port-Au-Prince - - Port-Au-Prince became thedarling of the Caribbean in early April with theopening of the Haiti Youboy Club on the Hispan-iola seashore. Keyholders were dumbfounded atthe glittering sight. Guest of honor at the open-ing-night celebration was President Duvalier, whoentered escorted by the entire Haitian armed forces.As the festivities became more boisterous and theguards were diverted from their jobs by the lusci-ous Storkies, President Juan Bosch of the Domini-catl Republic slipped in unnoticed and took a seatnext to Duvalier. The conversation that followedcannot be described. When the keyholders allturned to see the two leaders, Bosch was scream-ing accusations at Duvalier, as the latter quietlyand calmly began sticking pins into a voodoo dollthat bore a striking resemblance to Bosch. Withinminutes an ambulance arrived to transport Boschto a hospital, and the gay celebration was resumed.

YOUBOY GIVES PANAMANIANSA NIGHT TO REMEMBER

Panama City — The capital of Panama becamethe first foreign city to have a Youboy Club, onJanuary fifteenth. On this balmy evening thePanama Youboy Club brought stupendous glamorto the Canal Zone as it made its debut. First-nighters were left speechless as they entered thedazzling showplace. Guests of honor were thePresident of Panama, his cabinet, and the Ameri-can Ambassador. During the opening ceremonies,as the Youboy and Panamanian flags were raisedjointly, the Balboa High school senior class en-tered and hoisted the American flag above thePanamanian banner. The Panamanians respondedto the raising of the American flag in a way thatkeyholders will never forget. In the thick of theactivity that ensued, some three hundred passen-gers from a Caribbean cruise entered the bejeweledclub in bedclothes, demanding to see the AmericanAmbassador. The Ambassador courteously com-plied, ordered that the canal be opened for thecruiser, and the passengers departed, wishing theship would stay for the night, now that they hadseen the Panama Youboy Club.

THE YOUBOY PHILOSOPHY

We, the editors at Youboy, in this our tenthyear anniversary issue feel that it is about time wedocument our guiding principles. In a nationallyread magazine such as ours, with the influence webear upon our many thousands of readers, it isan absolute necessity to formulate a philosophyand follow it as closely as possible throughout eachissue. And so, before our very first publicationwe decided upon the following course: that wepresent only material expressive of the naturalaspects of life in the Western World. In so doing,we aim to enlighten the dark streets of twentiethcentury morality.

In the last twenty years an evolution has oc-curred in the area of moral "do's — and — don't's,"which has lifted the lingering shades of Victorianidealism. In this present day and age, the humanrace admittedly is over-perpetuating itself andmust decide where it will all stop. However, thismagazine sees the need and justification for thesatisfaction of the God-sent urges for parenthood.Now, this may well seem absurd, but when con-sidered in the light of human egotism — the de-sire to create in his own image — parenthood isa healthy, necessary, and wholesome aspect ofhuman existence.

This basic human desire has long been sup-

pressed, and we deeply believe that this shouldstop. The desire for parenthood has long beenfelt by many adults of this morally confused gen-eration. The trend of the society-minded, how-ever, has been unfortunately to present parenthoodas the most dreaded of evils in this fast-movinggeneration. If only some of these self-centeredpeople would realize the great benefits of familylife, we feel sure that they would reconsider theirformer beliefs. We are sure that most of the mem-bers of this modern society really are aware of thisdesire but are just too concerned with going "asthe masses do" to admit it.

What more beautiful picture could be imaginedthan that of being able to impress the personaltruths of life on the untouched mind of a child?Being able to shape a personality identical to yourown is perhaps the most pressing desire of anyindividual. To create a new member of society,and then to be able to give this prodigy the self-interested make-up of your own, must be desiredby even these die-hards of our "out-for-kicks"generation.

We, the editors of Youboy, are sure thatthrough our intensive editorial and photographiccoverage we have, without a doubt, enlightenedour reading public.

JAMES BLONDEby Ian Flamingo

James Blonde slowly approaches the corridor'send and the thick oak door that leads to M'soffice. His thick black boots strike the floor withan echoing clamor that spreads Blonde's doubtsalong the high grey walls. He stops, his heelsclick softly and he opens the massive portal whichgroans with a stiffness that comes from age. Heenters the room, his heavy boots crush the lushred carpet, and he hears, "M is ready for you;

go in now." He closes the door and glances at thedelicious Miss Finch, studying her rounded breastsand red lips with a practiced eye. M sits behindhis irish oak desk surveying a portfolio of crime."Ah," says M, looking up as Blonde enters."Don't bother to sit down, this won't take long."James Blonde stands tall, his strong hands foldedbehind him and listens, his jaw set firm. "A dopering has been operating in London. The leader

is an official in the government called Lord Home;kill him." As Blonde turns to leave, his doubtssettled and a task before him, a shot shatters theoffice door. M yelps and falls to the floor, his headflowing blood. Blonde's body reacts with deadlyspeed as he draws his Beretta from its leatherholster and bursts madly into the front office. Ashe rushes blindly forward, his boot mashes thesoft, white flesh of Miss Finch's naked belly. Shelies dead, her clothes torn, and her body ravagedby M's killer. Unmoved by this bloody scene, butanxious for the death of the intruder, Blondebolts madly down the corridor after a vanishingblack figure. He rushes into the cold night andfires swiftly at the white sedan that is fast disap-pearing into the darkness. With motions like atrained animal thirsting for the kill, Blonde jumpsinto his Bentley and starts it with a subdued roar.The tires scream as the Bentley pulls on to themain road miles from London and begins to huntthe killer's white car.

II

Two of the fastest cars in Europe open up ona lonely stretch of English moor, racing to kill,like two mad bulls charging into the night.Blonde's Bently narrows the gap between the twomachines as they draw near London's suburbs andthe hungry teeth of death. Slowed by the city'smidnight traffic, Blonde grows impatient. Inprickly terror he pulls his Beretta and levels thepolished barrel through London's bitter air, firingwildly at the white car. Glass flies, and the carahead careens; its black tires biting the streets andscreaming bloody Hell. The car spins again,lurches fractically into a baker's shop, and reststhere, red flames leaping and devouring the whitesteel. Blonde brakes his car and steps out intothe furious night, black smoke bellowing in giantgasps from the shattered brick wall. His eyes arecold and calm and in his muscular hand he holdsa deadly gun. Suddenly, like the viper strikes therat, angry shots split the cold night air, hittingBlonde with the fury of a falling world. Blondedoubles over, blood pouring from his mouth, andsprawls, his hand clutching his wound, his faceknotted in pain, on the filthy road. From theshadow of the devastated building a huge figuremoves. A dying man, his skin charred and bleed-ing, his left arm dangling loose at his side,stumbles vomiting into the road near Blonde,his hand holding a red pistol. He kicks Blondehard. Blonde jerks spasmodically and groans indespair. The big man drops his pistol and withhis good arm pulls Blonde up and flings him onhis shoulder. Blonde's blood runs down his legsand spreads on the ground.

Ill

When Blonde comes to, his eyes have bled andas he moves them to survey his dismal confines,sharp daggers of pain stab his soul. He lies in along well-lighted corridor. He sits up on a trem-bling elbow and sees behind him, lying dead onthe marble floor, the mountainous man he hadfought the night before. Not impressed at all,but wondering where he is, Blonde comes awk-wardly to his feet. Dizziness and sickness andpain gush in torment through his arteries, butBlonde steps forward, tasting the vomit beneathhis tongue. Fifty yards away five men stand,spanning the width of the hall. Their eyes watchBlonde, cold and staring with the carelessness ofa fish. Cocked and evil by their sides, hang sub-machineguns. Terror and fear rush into Blonde'sheart and it pounds as he stands painfully andparalyzed. The man in the middle, dressed in apurple suit, steps forward, his expression unchang-ing. Blonde whirls and dashes with all the speedand strength left in him away from the silentfire. His legs pump fast, like breaking pistons,and push the ground away and flood Blonde'sbullet-ridden body with racking, screaming pain.His lungs bursting, his mouth moving and gasp-ing, his legs pressed with a throbbing and flow-ing pain, Blonde plunges headlong on the floor.Skidding and sliding, Blonde lunges madly on-ward, his eyes bulging with fear of the hellbehind him. Suddenly the ground gives waybefore him and Blonde falls through the stonefloor. James Blonde feels a soft carpet and thecool air of a calm spacious room envelope his tiredbody. Breathing hard he lifts his head and sees aluxurious apartment spread out before him. Froma white cupid a gentle stream of water cascades,tingling into a small white fountain. Large Afri-can flowers mingle lushly with the black Spanishgratings, and music drifts sweetly through Blonde'sears. In a corner lying stretched out naked on alarge green cushion is a lovely lady sipping deli-cately from a large glass of Bourbon.

"Hello there", she drawls softly and thickly tothe bleeding Blonde. Blonde arises slowly andwalks towards the wistfully smiling woman. Be-hind him a voice speaks, "I couldn't find . . . "

He turns and there stands Lord Home, hismouth agape with surprise at Blonde's presence,and in each hand a long cool drink. Blonde be-gins to stalk Home, his arms and hands out-stretched, poised to wring the life from the oldgentleman.

In the doorway, the silent five stand and beginto fire upon the three figures, Blonde, Lord Home,and the drunken lady.

A STREETCAR NAMED IRVINGby Lord Tennyson Williams

CAST(as presented on Broadway)

Characters: Acted by:SAM, bartender Allen LuddenLOUIS Milton BerleSYDNEY, an effeminate

young man Phyllis NewmanFAT OLD LADY Rita HayworthELIZABETH TAYLOR Sandra DeePAUL NEWMAN Marlon BrandoCHARLIE, streetcar driver Robert GouletTENNESSEE WILLIAMS himselfDEAN MARTIN Steve ReevesINTERN Vince EdwardsFIRST TOURIST Barbra Streisand

PROLOGUE

(Curtain opens with SAM seated on a stool be-hind the bar. LOUIS is seated at one of the threeor jour round, medium sized tables filling the areain front of the bar. There are two doors, it doesn'treally matter where — one to a back room, whichshould be somewhere near the bar — and anotherto the outside, which can be anywhere. There isa double window on the side opposite this door.After curtain is open, there is a loud noise, simi-lar to a lousy whistle, followed by a train runninginto a wall, and children screaming.)SAM: What the hell's all that racket?LOUIS: Streetcar. (He's not heard. Louder")

Streetcar. (Still not heard. Shouts') It's thegoddam King of Prussia with a ten-thousandpollack army, sixty-three whores, and seventy-six trombones!

SAM (glancing out window') : No it's not. It's astreetcar.

SYDNEY (bursting into room) : Somebody callfor a whore, or at least a pollack?

LOUIS: You'd make a better trombone, (gazingout window) Hey, it's Irving!

SYDNEY: Who's Irving, huh?LOUIS: It's the streetcar. They call it Irving.SYDNEY: What's an Irving doing in Arab

country, huh?LOUIS: What's a pervert doin' in a place like

this, (mockingly) huh, Sydney, huh?SYDNEY: I pass through occasionally.LOUIS: So does Irving. Always get derailed on

that corner, though. Kids leave bottles and beercans and stuff there — Gets him every time.

SYDNEY: Irving goes in for that stuff too, huh?

SECOND TOURIST some fink

The entire action of the play takes place in adirty little tavern in a New Orleans slum area.The time of each scene is as follows:Prologue: About noon on an extremely hot day

in mid-August, any year.Scene I: That eveningScene II: Two days laterScene III: Two months laterScene IV: Ten years laterEpilogue: Summer day, twenty-five years after end

of Scene IV.

LOUIS (ignoring him) : Then all those peoplecome pouring in here for a drink, bitching abouthow hot it is and how inconvenienced they areand how ugly everybody else is, but how pas-sionately marvelous they are. They'll raise allkinds of hell, and before long we'll have oneof those stupid plays going. First there'll besome fat old lady . . . (enter FAT OLD LADY)

FAT OLD LADY: Gracious gods, it's hot! Andso inconvenient! Give me a drink.

LOUIS: . . . and some broad . . . (enter ELIZA-BETH TAYLOR)

LIZ: How marvellously passionate I am! Give mea drink.

LOUIS: . . . and some young fellow . . . (EnterPAUL NEWMAN)

NEWMAN: She's hot, I'm not. No fool, man,me, I'm cool. Give me a drink.

LOUIS: . . . Irving's jockey . . . (enter CHAR-LIE)

FAT OLD LADY: What are you doing, youngman? Can't you get that blasted machine mov-ing?

CHARLIE: Oh, shut up. Give me a drink.LOUIS: . . . and always this guy who doesn't

say much . . . (enter TENNESSEE WIL-LIAMS)

TENNESSEE WILLIAMS: Hmmm, all theseugly people . . . Time for one of those stupidplays. Give me a drink.

LOUIS: And that's — wait a minute! I haven'tseen this guy before, (enter DEAN MARTIN)

MARTIN: Give me a drink, (exit)BLACKOUT

SCENE I(That evening. As the stage lights up, SAM

is standing behind the bar, CHARLIE has joinedLOUIS at his table, and the FAT OLD LADY sitsacross from TENNESSEE WILLIAMS at the cor-ner table. NEWMAN sits with his back to thebar, leaning back on his elbows, staring emotion-lessly out into the audience. LIT. sits on one sideof him, and SYDNEY is on the other.)LIZ: What's buggin' you, big boy? You ain't

said a word since we been here, which is nearsix hours, I reckon.

NEWMAN: Uh-huh.LIZ: Well what's up, buddy, what's up?SYDNEY: Go 'way, you bitch, you. He prefers

my company to yours, right, boy, huh?LIZ: What?SYDNEY: I mean it! He's a nice lookin' fel-

low . . . real nice lookin' . . . too nice for yourkind . . . He's more my type, huh, boy?

NEWMAN: Shut up.LIZ: Is that right?SYDNEY: That's right! . . . He's . . .NEWMAN (backhands him hard) : Shut up, fool.LIZ: You hear that? I think he's right. You

prefer a pervert to me, to glorious, glamorous,beautiful, sexy, stunning, fascinating, incom-parable, unbelievably rich . . .

NEWMAN: Oh, for God's sake! Why don'tyou get yourself . . . uh ... get yourself . . .uh . . . lost . . .

XIZ: Can't you just speak to me? . . say some-thing nice? . . .

NEWMAN: Got nothing to say.LIZ: Hell. I didn't come over just to talk, any-

way.NEWMAN: You might've fooled me the past

three hours. Wish you'd stop talkin!TENNESSEE WILLIAMS: (aside, to FAT OLD

LADY) : Get in the act, woman. Be bitchy.FAT OLD LADY (walking aimlessly around

room: I'm bitchy, I'm bitchy, I'm bitchy, I'mbitchy . . .

TENNESSEE WILLIAMS (aside): That's notexactly what I meant.

FAT OLD LADY: . . . I 'm bitchy, I 'm bitchy,I'm bitchy . . .(FAT OLD LADY's chanting fades out as

darkness jades in to cover stage. Music drifts in:jazz with an accent on percussion, ivhich reachesa feverish pitch very quickly. This lasts not morethan thirty seconds. Music drifts out again. Lightsup first on LIZ, then rest of stage as she speaks)LIZ: Come on — come on — come-on — Come-

on — come-on. Be cool, daddy — cool, and ahotcha-hotcha and a hotcha-hotcha and a hotcha-cha-cha. What do you say lover-boy? What

do you say, you big glorious hunk of you? Let'smake with the action, us two, how-'bout it?(NEWMAN turns away) Come-on, I'll buyyou a beer— (to SAM) Give this man beer—Now, whadda-you-say? How 'bout a kiss? Onekiss for a beer? (NEWMAN, expressionless,shoves glass slowly to edge of bar, then off.Crash.)

FAT OLD LADY: . . . I'm bitchy, I'm bitchy,I'm bitchy . . .

LIZ (innocently) : You don't . . . want . . . abeer? (angrily) You'd make a lousy gigolo.What's the price, you bastard? Whiskey?Brandy? Vodka? . . .

SAM: We got no vodka.LIZ: . . . Scotch and Soda? Scotch and water?

Gin? . . .LOUIS: Hell, if she's buying kisses and paying in

drinks, I'll give her a damn barn-full.LIZ: . . . Rum Coke? . . . Coke?CHARLIE: She's a lousy bargainer — she's low-

ering her bid.LOUIS: I'll give her what she wants for free.CHARLIE: I don't think you've got what she

wants.LIZ: . . . Ginger ale? ... Seven-up? . . . Pepsi-

cola? . . . (dejectedly) Hawaiian Punch.NEWMAN (face lights up): Hawaiian Punch?LIZ (startled): Huh?NEWMAN (jumps up): Hawaiian Punch? Ha-

waiian Punch! I want Hawaiian Punch? Iwant Hawaiian Punch! I love Hawaiian Punch?I love Hawaiian Punch! Did you say HawaiianPunch? Did you say Hawaiian Punch? Did Ihear Hawaiian Punch. Did I hear HawaiianPunch? (enter DEAN MARTIN)

MARTIN: Did I hear Paul Newman ask forHawaiian Punch? (exit)

LIZ: You want Hawaiian Punch?NEWMAN: Oh, God yes! Yes, yes, yes!SAM: Rosy Red or Sunshine Yellow?NEWMAN: Red for now. Oh, damn — Please

hurry!SAM: Comin' up. (sets can on counter.)NEWMAN: Ahhhhhh . . .LIZ (snatches can away) : Hold on!NEWMAN (flabbergasted) : M-m-my p-p-p-punch

LIZ: You want this punch?NEWMAN: Naw! I was just kidding. You

little bitch, of course I want that punch! I'lldie if I don't get that punch! You'll . . .

LIZ: You love me?NEWMAN: Of course I ... No, by God, I

don't love you! I love Hawaiian Punch!LIZ: Love me, or you don't get any.NEWMAN: Give me that punch.

LIZ: Do you love me?NEWMAN: No!LIZ: No punch.NEWMAN: Damn you,LIZ: Say that you love me.NEWMAN: Is it rosy-red and chilled?LIZ: I think so. Say you . . .NEWMAN: Are you sure?LIZ: Is it rosy-red and chillled, Sam?SAM: Sure is.NEWMAN: Give it to me!LIZ: No!NEWMAN: Dammit . . . (slaps her)LIZ: Beast! (sudden silence)NEWMAN (shocked at his own action, looks at

the floor.): I'm . . . (swallows) . . . sorry . . .(quietly) Please give me the punch.

LIZ (angry now) : No! Not unless you love me!NEWMAN: I ... I ... Oh hell . . . (mumbles')

I love you.NEWMAN (blushes) : I said it.LIZ: I didn't hear you.NEWMAN (shouts) : I love you, I love you, I

love you! Give me my punch !LIZ: If you love me, kiss me!NEWMAN (eyes open wide) : Are you kidding?

(•voice cracks)LIZ: Do you want the punch?NEWMAN (turns away and looks up in despair.

Pounds fist on bar): Oh God . . . Oh . . .God . . .

LIZ: Is it really that difficult? Others have doneit.

LOUIS: That's right! Now if you want me toshow you —

CHARLIE (Grabs him and pulls him back) : Sitdown.

NEWMAN (pleading) : May I please have thepunch ?

LIZ: Of course not.(NEWMAN turns away again, leans on bar,

builds up fierce look of determination. He turnsboldly, grabs her, and kisses her passionately,then grabs punch and pushes her away.)NEWMAN: Damn, you kiss bad. (chug-a-lugs

the punch.) LIZ wanders dazedly about theroom, stammering incoherently.)(Two days later. FAT OLD LADY stands

threateningly over CHARLIE and LOUIS. SAM isbehind the bar and TENNESSEE WILLIAMSremains at his corner table, but the others aremissing.)FAT OLD LADY: For goodness' sake, young

man .

CHARLIE: You can call me Charlie.FAT OLD LADY: Hmmmph! Listen Ch -

young man . . .CHARLIE: Like I said.FAT OLD LADY: Oh shut up! I'll call you

what I damn well please! When are we gettingout of this hole?

CHARLIE: When Irving's good and ready.FAT OLD LADY: I suppose he's gonna climb

back on that track himself?CHARLIE: That's the way it usually happens.FAT OLD LADY: Are you being wise, young

man?CHARLIE: Listen woman — Why don't you go. out and talk to Irving. I'm sure with a little

encouragement he'll be glad to do whatever youwant him to. Just don't go too far — He mayleave without us.(Scream from back room. LIZ comes tearing

out, terrified.)LIZ.: Help! He's trying to rape me! Oh Lord!

Help me, please!TENNESSEE WILLIAMS (aside): Now we're

getting somewhere.LOUIS: Boy really came to life, didn't he?SAM: Yeh, it's amazing what a little Hawaiian

Punch . . .LIZ: No, no! Not Paul! (enter SYDNEY, run-

ning) Him!SAM: You don't mean it!LOUIS: You sure he wasn't after Paul?

(SYDNEY runs stupidly around the room incircles, like a dog chasing his tail. He stopsabrutply in front of FAT OLD LADY.)SYDNEY: Saay . . .SAM: Oh Lord.SYDNEY: Va-va-va-voom. Gosh — you — are

— pret- ty.FAT OLD LADY (looks behind her, around

her): Wh — who, me?SYDNEY: Well, I sure didn't mean SAM.SAM: For once.FAT OLD LADY: Gosh, you mean it?CHARLIE: Of course he means it! Who can

doubt him? You're a real doll!LOUIS (aside ot CHARLIE) : Quiet. This is get-

ting good.SYDNEY: Would you like a drink?FAT OLD LADY: Well . . . I really shouldn't,

SYDNEY: Okay, then I w—FAT OLD LADY: But I will, of course!SYDNEY: Now you've done it. I don't have

any money.FAT OLD LADY: I'll buy the drinks.SYDNEY: Thatta girl! (takes her arm and es-

corts her to a table) Give us two beers, Sam.She's buying!(Enter NEWMAN from back room, obviously

drunk, A Hawaaian Punch hangs loosely in hisfingers, and he staggers. He is singing.)NEWMAN: . . . But it wouldn't be make believe

. . . If you . . . you . . . If you . . . It wouldn'tbe make believe . . . If you . . . Oh, for God'ssake . . .

LIZ: Paul! Paul! What have you done to your-self? Paul!

NEWMAN: It's only a paper moon . . .LIZ: Paul! Sam, how could you let him do this

to himself?SAM: That's only his second Hawaiian Punch.LIZ: Paul! Paul, darling! Speak to me, Paul!NEWMAN: Bah! ... Go 'way . . . (sings) It

wouldn't be make believe . . . Oh hell, I gota — a h-headache.

LIZ: Oh Paul! Paul, I ...NEWMAN: Shut up ... Maggie. Gimme my

crutch, Maggie.LIZ: Paul?NEWMAN: . . . Gimme my crutch, Maggie! . . .

Damn . . . you . . .LIZ: Maggie? Paul . . . Paul, you just called me

Maggie! You just called me Maggie, Paul!NEWMAN: Sorry . . . my mistake . . . I keep

getting mixed up ...LIZ: It's all right.NEWMAN: I — I had a dog ... named . . .

Maggie.LIZ: It wasn't a cat?NEWMAN: . . . It was a dog ... It was a bitch.LIZ: Paul, . . .NEWMAN: Shut up, you — you . . . Maggie

. . . you Maggie, maggot-eaten Maggie of a ...you . . . Maggie's . . . dead . . . yeah, dead.

LIZ: That's too bad.NEWMAN: Naw it was her ... her own fault

. . . Got run over . . . by a ... by a ... tank.LIZ: A tank!NEWMAN: No ... no, stupid . . . Can't you

see I didn't mean to say that . . . I mean . . .I mean . . . (finishes can of punch) . . . Giveme ... some more . . . rosy-red . . . chilled. . . Hawaiian Punch . . . before I die ...

LIZ: You were saying?NEWMAN (takes new can which SAM has set

on counter) : Huh? . . . Yeh . . . Maggie's dead.LIZ: No, after that. It wasn't a tank.NEWMAN: No, you fool, . . . of course itwasn't . . . It was . . . It was . . . one of them . . .

big things . . .LIZ: A truck? (NEWMAN shakes his head)

A bus? A train?NEWMAN: No ... No ... One of them things

. . . You know . . . one of them things . . .they . . . make streets with . . . one of them . . .them flat'ners . . .

LIZ: A steamroller!NEWMAN: Yeh . . . you're pretty smart . . .

It was a steamroller . . . Maggie is ... is ...part of ... thirty-fifth street . . .

LIZ: Oh! You didn't pick her up?NEWMAN: Wh —what for? . . . Maggie sand-

wiches ?(a giggle jrom SYDNEY'S table; then a loudlaugh. He and the FAT OLD LADY are livingit up. Enter DEAN MARTIN.)

LIZ: Poor Paul. (NEWMAN takes a swig ofpunch) Don't, Paul!

NEWMAN: Why don't you ...LIZ: Paul . . . (kisses his cheek)LOUIS (sarcastically) : Poor Paul.NEWMAN: Why don't you go ...LIZ: Paul . . .NEWMAN: Why don't you . . . go play Maggie

. . . and sit under a steamroller . . . bitch.LIZ: Paul . . .NEWMAN (turns away, swigs punch, sings) :. . .

But it wouldn't be make believe . . . If you . . .you . . . I forgot the damn words . . .

MARTIN: Block thirty-nine of the Camino Real.SCENE III

(Two months later. CHARLIE and LOUIS areat their same table, talking together. SAM iswashing glasses behind the bar. NEWMAN issleeping soundly on the bar, head propped upagainst the wall at one end. TENNESSEE WIL-LIAMS is still at his corner table. A profoundchange has come over LIZ. She sits at the centertable, brooding over a large glass of beer. It isclear that she has become an alcoholic. She has atired and haggard look, and seems to care verylittle about what happens around her. She saysvery little, and speaks in a slow, dull monotone*)CHARLIE: She sure has gone to pot, ain't she?

(nods toward LIZ)LOUIS: Yes ... (sympathetically) Well, two

months in a place like this . . .CHARLIE: Two months! What, has she got no

stamina ?LOUIS: Well, . . .CHARLIE: What would she do if she had to go

through three generations with Rock Hudson,James Dean, a big cattle ranch and oil well, withMike Todd as ...

LOUIS: That's GIANT!CHARLIE: Yes, and it's also —Hey! You

weren't supposed to say that. I was gonna letthem figure it out. You know, subtlety and allthat stuff . .

LOUIS: Who's "them"?(Continued on page 14)

aronSknulowe

YOUGIRL

OF THE MONTH

We first spotted this issue's pretty miss, Sharon Mar-lowe, at a church social, and we were immediatelystruck not only by her fine form with the knittingneedles, but also by the vivacious manner in which shemaintained running conversations on both sides. Sharonhails from Philadelphia, where she leads a busy life as asecretary to the director of the Young Men's ChristianAssociation. When asked how she likes this work, shereplies that it is stimulating and exciting. "It reallychallenges me," she says. "My shorthand is improvinggreatly. And there is never a dull moment, always formsto be typed up, dictations to be taken."

But Sharon's day is not all work and no play. Whenshe is not engaged in church functions or her job,Sharon likes to go out on the town and rummage throughback street yarn shops. "You'd really be surprised whatone can run across in those little shops," she exclaims."Why just the other afternoon as I was leaving theoffice, I spied a quaint little red-brick shop, tucked inbetween two tall buildings. I went in and this old ladyoffered me a cup of tea before showing me around. Itwas a fascinating place! They had so many kinds ofyarn and thread, and I just had to buy a lovely pair ofornamented ivory needles for my collection." Sharon'scollection of knitting needles is the finest we've seen.Every place she goes, Sharon seems to find something toadd to it, and her collection now includes over sixty-fivepairs of needles. The oldest, she tells us, dates from the

Revolution. "It first belonged to a women who used itto knit socks for the soldiers at Valley Forge!"

A versatile and accomplished girl, Sharon is also tak-ing piano lessons. "It's hard work," she admits, "butit's one of those things you have to keep at." Althoughshe modestly attempts to slight her musical talents, aperformance will bear out the fact that Sharon has in-deed kept "at it." On Saturdays Sharon likes to playbridge with the Women's Bridge League. Our perceptivemiss holds her own against the older competition. Sharonand her apartment-mate, Debbie Stevens, frequently joinforces on these occasions to present a formidable com-bination at any table. Sharon is not one to mistake Stay-man for Fishbine, and she finds these weekly matchesan enjoyable opportunity to pit her skill against otherplayers. "I suppose it's just a game," she concedes re-luctantly, "but it's more fun to win than lose."

With all of her many interests, Sharon is lookingforward to the day when she can settle down with thesuitable man. Her ideal is the tall , serious type. "Hemust be interesting as well as handsome, and willing tohelp around the house," she explains. She is not im-pressed by the worldly set who speak of exciting travels."What is the point of having a home if you're notgoing to live in it?" she questions in her philosophicalmanner.

We sympathize with this philosophical girl from theEast, and wish Sharon good luck and a happy marriage.

13

(Continued from page 9)CHARLIE: Great qualities in ... What?LOUIS: I said, "Who's 'them'?"CHARLIE {bends over closer, whispers) : You see

that fellow over there . . . behind you? [TEN-NESSEE WILLIAMS taps a penal on table)Well, he takes down everything we say.

LOUIS: He takes down everything we say!CHARLIE: That's what I said . . . (as an after-

thought) and he took it down.LOUIS: Well, damn him, I ' l l— (get's up)CHARLIE (grabs him) : Take it easy . . . and

watch your language.LOUIS: Well whadda you say we—CHARLIE: I'm not saying . . . He must use

shorthand or something.LOUIS: Oh hell, I guess we can't fight it. Did

you say that thing about GIANT to confusehim?

CHARLIE: Huh? No, of course not. We weretalking about her, remember?

LOUIS (looks at LIZ) : Her? What's she got todo with GIANT?

CHARLIE (surprised) : Don't you know who sheis?

LOUIS: Nope.CHARLIE: You've never seen her before?LOUIS: Can't say that I have.CHARLIE: Don't you remember? The theatre?

That one uptown . . .LOUIS: Wait don't tell me! The box-office,

right ?CHARLIE: Right!LOUIS': She was that cashier who (begins to

laugh) Ha-ha . . . who was still charging ad-mission . . . ha-ha . . . after . . . after whatwas it?

CHARLIE (also laughing) : Ha-ha . . . after two-and-a-half hours! . . . Ha-ha-ha . . .

LOUIS: Yeh . . . ha-ha . . . she said . . . ha-ha-ha . . . she said . . . /-w-ha-ha . . . she said they'dbarely gotten into . . . into . . . ha-ha-had . . .the second generation . . . ahhhhh — ha-ha-ha-ha ... ha-ha-ha . . . ahh-ha-ha-ha . . .

CHARLIE: . . . ha-ha-ha . . . And they . . . ha-ha-ha . . . fired her on the spot . . . ha-ha-ha

. . . fired her on the spot . . . ha-ha-ha . . . ha-ha-ha . . .

LOUIS (hysterical) : . . . Ahhhh — ha-ha-ha . . .ha-ha-ha . . . Ahhh-ha-ha-ha . . . ha-ha-ha . . .ha-ha-ha-ha . . .

CHARLIE: . . . ha-ha-ha . . . The newspapers . . .ha-ha-ha . . . had a big write-up on it ... ha-ha-ha . . .

LOUIS: . . . ha-ha-ha . . . I heard . . . ha-ha-ha. . . I heard . . . ha-ha-ha . t . Ahhhhh — ha-ha-ha . . . I heard she married rich . . . ha-ha-ha .

CHARLIE: . . . ha-ha-ha . . . five times . . . ha-ha-ha . . .

LOUIS: Ahhhhhhh — ha-ha-ha . . . ha-ha-ha . . .Ahhhhhh — ha-ha-ha . . . ha-ha-ha-ha . . . ha-ha-ha-ha . . . ha-ha-ha . . . ha-ha . . . ha (stopslaughing) It's not her.

CHARLIE: No, and it's not funny either.LOUIS: Naw . . . poor thing . . .CHARLIE: Which one?LOUIS: This one, of course.CHARLIE: Yeh ... of course. It's all that fel-

low's fault (quick glance at NEWMAN) -sexless bastard.

LOUIS: Don't be too hard on him — you gottaadmire his control.(FAT OLD LADY storms in from the back

room, brushes past CHARLIE and LOUIS, stopson a sudden impulse, goes back and bangs CHAR-LIE on the head with her fist. Then walks tobar, looks around the room and screams.)FAT OLD LADY: Where's Sydney?

(NEWMAN jails off bar, behind it)LOUIS: Gawd!CHARLIE: If that didn't wake him up, nothing

will.LOUIS: If that didn't wake him up, he's dead.

(A hand comes up jrom behind the bar, andplaces a can of Hawaiian Punch on the bar. Itfeels for an opener, finds one, opens the can, andtilts it upside down, so that the punch is flowingdown behind the bar, where NEWMAN has justfallen.)LOUIS: He's not dead.

(NEWMAN stands up very slowly.)CHARLIE: Is he awake?

(NEWMAN growls)LOUIS: Maybe.NEWMAN (suddenly explodes) : Damn you!LOUIS: He's awake.FAT OLD LADY (chokes momentarily) : A-hem,

I certainly hope you don't mean me.NEWMAN: Well, by god, that's too bad, be-

cause I sure as hell do, you bitch.FAT OLD LADY: I beg your pardon.NEWMAN: Oh, shut up! Do you know what

you've done?FAT OLD LADY: I'm afraid I've awakened

you.NEWMAN: Yeah, that you've done too, but

that's not what you've done that I'm thinkingyou've done, and can't be undone, because you'vedone what —

FAT OLD LADY: What the hell have I done?NEWMAN: It's "done in" you murderer. You've

killed Archie.FAT OLD LADY: Archie?NEWMAN: Yes, Archie, you slut, (pulls man-

(Continued on page 19)

14

THE YOUBOY GOURMET AND BARTENDERBy Drunken Hines

Over the years various Youboy clubs have be-come known for certain house specialties, oftendetermined by some local delicacy in existence longbefore the club opened. Such a case is the Nox-entown, Delaware Club, where a decidedly pro-vincial atmosphere pervades its enormous kitchenfilled with huge coal-oil stoves. After a hard dayin the asparagus fields of the Green Giant, mostof the club's patrons shuffle up to the bar andorder the following drink, made famous by avenerable school master:

CAMERON'S KICK

3 02. Scotch Whiskey2 02. Irish Whiskey1 02. Lemon juice

1/2 02. Beaird Brand Apple Cider

Beaird Brand Apple Cider is a locally manufac-tured connoisseur's favorite, whose formula wasdiscovered by one John Beaird, and the old familyrecipe is presented here since his organi2ation hasbeen liquidated, and all rights are public domain.It is usually made in small quantities to preserveits taste and flavor.

1/4 gallon apple cider1/2 cup sugar1/4 cup raisins

Age until it suits the taste.

For dinner the Noxentown specialty is Le Vi-ande Mystere. Local keyholders use Boilermakersto wash it down. It is made in large quantities,since it is easy to store.

l/2 Ib. fine ground horse meat(Imported from U.S.S.R.)

1/2 Ib. medium ground brahma bull1 gallon mushrooms (amanita variety best)

Mix well in a large vat, add 5 gallons of vine-gar to keep the mixture moist. Bring to a boilunder a medium fire, and let simmer for at least24 hours. Drain off the vinegar, and add 10 Ibs.of flour to the meat. Flatten into patties byspreading the mixture on a floor and pounding

with hob-nailed tundra boots. The finished pat-ties should be about 5"x3"x^". It is best tofree2e the patties immediately so that the flavorwill be sealed in. Warm up on the grill andserve. Though horse meat is best, standard beefmay be substituted.

As its dessert the Noxentown Club offers itsmost unusual and yet bi2arely tasteful epicuriandelight, Banquo Pudding. Legend has it that atraveler once referred to it as "Mississippi Mud"and after a trial in the nether swamps was forcedto go through life wearing a brown "B" on hischest. I had great trouble worming its secret in-gredients out of the chef, but on promising thatI would salute him publically, he gave me the oldrecipe that has existed since the AppoquinimickIndians were driven off the shores of NoxentownPond near the club. Some of the ingredients mayonly, as you see, be obtained locally; however, theproper substitutions may be made. This dessertmust be prepared on the day of consumption toinsure freshness.

Early in the morning, while the ground is stilldamp, go out and dig up, on the western shoresof Noxentown Pond under the old oak tree thatCaesar Rodney stumbled over in the dark andbroke his leg on while going to ratify the Consti-tution, a bucket full of earth (Make sure thebucket is sterili2ed before you put anything ini t ) . Take another bucket and fill it full of pondwater approximately 35 feet east of the areaknown as the Green Dragon (don't worry, hewon't bite). Once back inside, mix the twotogether and strain off the excess water. Allowto simmer at 156 degrees for 30 minutes. Mean-while prepare the following mixture:

4 cups flour from Mrs. Ellison's mill.(If she isn't home use 3 cupsof any other brand.)

1 qt. fresh unpasteuri2ed milk1/2 cup melted Bra2ilian chocolate1/2 cup melted Ecuadorian chocolate

Blend the mixture in slowly and when well mixed,pour into dishes and bake for 2l/2 hours. Servechilled.

Oh, and the Chef's name . . . Boy-ar-walt.

15

THE YOUBOY INTERVIEW

YOUBOY: Senator, you have been called theleader of the Conservative Movement inAmerica. Could you state for us the prin-ciples by which you hope to lead this country ?

COLD WATER: Why certainly. Basically, ourprinciples are found in our socio-economicphilosophical concept of government.

YOUBOY: That's somewhat existentialistic. Couldyou be more specific?

COLD WATER: I'd be happy to. We conserva-tives are very social people. We mean tohave a social government.

YOUBOY: I see. And economically?

COLD WATER: Economically, we believe firmlyin money, and we mean to have plenty of it.

YOUBOY: Well, Senator don't you think thatsuch a policy would lead to inflation andeventually a depression ?

COLD WATER: Ah, you see? You follow ourlogic, too! Here's where the philosophical

part of our theory comes in. We conserva-tives feel that these situations must be lookedupon philosophically.

YOUBOY: I see. Now Senator, about the Su-preme Court. In your book, Consciousness ofan Illiterate, you stated that you felt that be-cause the Supreme Court was made up ofordinary men, their dicta were not bindingand could in some cases be disregarded.

COLD WATER: Yes, that's correct. But you mustremember that as the title explains, that bookwas my consciousness speaking, and certainlyone cannot be held responsible for his con-sciousness.

YOUBOY: Well then, may we assume that youas a senator do not hold to that theory?

COLDWATER: If you'd like to.

YOUBOY: I'd like, if I may, to talk now aboutthe New Hampshire primary.

COLDWATER: Certainly.

YOUBOY: To what do you attribute your loss?

COLDWATER: Well, I do feel that the fact thatMr. Lodge won played a large role in my loss.

YOUBOY: And what would you say gave Mr.Lodge the victory?

COLDWATER: Well, I think that Mr. Rocke-feller and I cut each other's throats and paidlittle attention to Mr. Lodge.

YOUBOY: Would you say, then, Senator, thatMr. Lodge backed into the victory?

COLDWATER: Well, I'd say that the fact thatMr. Rockefeller and I lost aided Mr. Lodge'scampaign a great deal.

YOUBOY: Your views on Russia have oftenseemed puzzling. Could you clarify themfor us?

COLDWATER: I'd be more than happy to. Ihave said all along that we should not recog-nize Russia as a country. I firmly believe inthat, as I always have.

YOUBOY: But Senator, you were for the "Wheatfor Russia" Program. Isn't this somewhathypocritcial ?

16

COLD WATER: Certainly not. We can havedealings with the Russians, and even cul-tural exchanges. But we should not recog-nize them as a country.

YOUBOY: Isn't this a somewhat dangerous pol-icy, Senator?

COLDWATER: Not at all. I'm not afraid of alittle culture.

YOUBOY: I see. Now sir, could you tell us alittle about your feelings on the U. N. ?

COLDWATER: Certainly. I think it should beabolished. There is no real need for it at all.

YOUBOY: Well, Senator, if you favor gettingout of the U. N., to what body do you pro-pose we take international problems?

COLDWATER: I don't think we should haveinternational problems. They're a nuisance,and I don't think we should concern ourselveswith them.

YOUBOY: Do you think this is possible thesedays?

COLDWATER: It's as possible now as it waswhen the idea was first expressed. I believethat was 1897.

YOUBOY: I see. Senator, if I could ask you amore domestic question.

COLDWATER: Certainly.

YOUBOY: How do you feel about the President'swar on poverty?

COLDWATER: Strangely. Poverty is brought onby the individual, and it is his problem. Thegovernment should not meddle in the affairsof the individual.

YOUBOY: Well sir, don't you feel that povertyshould be abolished in the U. S.?

COLDWATER: Yes I do, but not by the gov-ernment.

YOUBOY: Well then, by whom, Senator?COLDWATER: Well I don't know. But it must

not be by the Federal government. Perhapsthe Salvation Army.

YOUBOY: There are those, Senator, who feelthat one cannot feel the importance of pov-erty without having experienced it.

COLDWATER: Well, I can tell you that the de-partment store has had a bad year.

YOUBOY: Oh! Now sir, about the John BirchSociety. What are your feelings on this group?

COLDWATER: Well, I must say they get a lotof bad publicity. But on the other hand, they

are a rather reactionary group. But perhapssuch an organization is needed to keep us onour toes.

YOUBOY: Do you denounce the support of theSociety ?

COLDWATER: Well, now that depends on whatyou mean by support. As Americans they areentitled to vote for anyone they wish. As agroup . . . I really am undecided as to howI feel.

YOUBOY: Then you don't denounce them?

COLDWATER: Well, that depends on what youmean by denounce. Now there are severalpossibilities there.

YOUBCY: Could you be more specific or exact?

COLDWATER: No.

YOUBOY: Well, Senator, we thank you for achance to talk to you.

COLDWATER: Certainly.

YOUBOY: I do hope you've enjoyed it as muchas we have.

COLDWATER: Well that depends on what youmean by enjoy . . .

17

PIGSKIN PREVIEW

One again YOUBOY offers its calculated prog-nostications on the approaching grid season. Atalented crop of quarterbacks looks to dominateplay this fall. Led by Sweet Briar's Chris Sez-nowski, this group includes such returning stand-outs as Philadelphia Textile's Ivan De Busher,N. Y. U.'s Roscoe Ssadack, the University of Chi-cago's Melvin Retchowitz, and Shimer College'sBruce Epilepski.

The areas all show strong representatives, butthe East seems to be the strongest. YOUBOY'Stop ten are as follows :

1. Christian University2. New College (Fla.)3. Shimer4. Adelphi5. Yeshiva6. Brandeis7. Hollins8. Case Institute (Cal.)9. Bennett

10. Sam Houston

The East: After last year's surprise showings bysuch perennial patsies as Penn State, Navy, Syra-cuse, Pitt, and Army, which must be counted asbut flukes, the usual big names will once againreappear. Of these, Adelphi seems to be thestrongest. Anchored in the line by Fred Klinker(known fraternally as the "Missing Klink"). Adel-phi boasts a stingy line and an aggressive backfield.

Challenging Adelphi for the supremacy of theEast will be Yeshiva. Strengthened by the ad-vent of Knute Rochnowitz, a transfer from NotreDame, the "Galloping Matzos" will have an awe-some backfield. Returning in the line is the solidcenter, Dave Bengurionski.

Brandeis will be strong also. With 24 return-ing lettermen, depth will be plentiful. CoachRicardo Romano points to Mario Marlonski asan All-Zionist Ail-American prospect.

A possible surprise this year is always respect-able Hollins. Athletic Director Rita Hardnosahas succeeded in getting her lacrosse stalwarts toplay football this fall. This added strength willbe mostly felt from tackle to tackle, and may justmake Hollins a national contender.

The Southeast: New College is just that. Thiswill be the College's first year, and YOUBOY will

have to go with beginner's luck. The othername schools (Tallahassee Q. & P., Anchovi Tech.(at Dade S.C.) look to have weaker units thisseason. The loss of Jose Jimenez spells hard timesfor Dade, and Tallahassee will be generally impo-tent.

The Midwest: Here it's Shimer all the way.There can be no question that the "RampagingRoscoes" will indeed run roughshod over the so-called "Big Ten"; Tri-State A.&Z. will offer somecompetition, with Rocky-Joe Add Bass batteringthe line. Texas, last year's upset winner in theCotton Bowl, will return to obscurity, and onceagain Christian University of North Texas will beNo. 1. Featuring the All-American quarterback,Hound-Dog Seznovitch, C.U. will have little diffi-culty in securing the national title. However, SamHouston will share the Texas spotlight, due inpart to hard-charging fullback Josephus Horn-blower, who chewed up 1,013 yards rushing lastyear.

The Rockies: Flying high are the Kaydets ofthe Air Force Academy after a great season, whichthey climaxed by being schmecked by North Caro-lina. But with Terry Isaacson gone, the "Wing"will have to do some aerial reconnaissance to spotanother QB. Our choice here is Provo Tech, homeof Horace Roosevelt Jones, last year's leading passreceiver. We also invite your attention to theinteresting Roswell (N.M.) U. that may surprise,thanks to the efforts of Manny "Wet-Back" Gon-zalez, known throughout New Mexico for hisbroken field running, a talent he inherited fromhis famous uncle Pancho Villa.

The Far West: Case Institute has it all figuredout, E=:mc2, and with this in mind, Case willdominate a weak West Coast Season. PasadenaS.C. features Rick "Greaseball" Nelson, who oftenforgets to do the little ordinary things that every-one ought to do before game time. Ventura CountyCollege features a few Beach Boys, a versatile teamwhich boasts a '40 Little Deuce Coupe in theparking lot. The VCC rides on the wake of suc-cess, but across the line mighty Pomona bemoansthe loss of Vic Morrow, who was drafted. Thereseems to be little hope for the paliminoes.

So it shapes up as an interesting year. YOU-BOY's Helen Keller Memorial Award for theNation's No. 1 should be the object of hot con-tention. But Coach of the Year seems to be nocontest. Webb Ray Nor, notorious tough guy,will once again get a 100% effort from his Chi-cago University charges, the "Fighting Phi Betas."

18

(Continued from page 14)

gled bird from bis pocket, and dangles itbefore FAT OLD LADY).

FAT OLD LADY: Ehhhhh.NEWMAN (pats Archie affectionately, and sobs) :

You've killed him.FAT OLD LADY: Don't be ridiculous. How did

I kill him?NEWMAN: I fell on him.FAT OLD LADY: Then obviously, you killed

him!NEWMAN: No, damn you, no! You came in

here (speaks very rapidly) screaming — jump-ing — shouting — "Sydney — Sydney!" — run-ning around - - raising hell - - clobbering— people — waking — people — up — and —knocking — people — down — turning thingsover — . . .

FAT OLD LADY (exasperated): Will some-body shut this fool up! I ... I refuse to haveany responsibility for that . . . that. . . Ehhhhh

NEWMAN: . . . throwin' — me — off — thebar — so — that — I — fall — on — Archie— crush Archie — mangle Archie — scrunchArchie — kill Archie — and I'm gonna kill you,you Archie-killer!

FAT OLD LADY: Don't you dare!NEWMAN: But how? (looks around under the

bar) . . . ahh, what's this? . . . A blow-torch!(holds it up)FAT OLD LADY: A blow-torch!NEWMAN: Yeah . . . ever seen one work?

(turns it on — it works — turns it off) . . .should do the job.

FAT OLD LADY: Will s-somebody stop thism-maniac! I don't know whether he's kiddingor not!

NEWMAN (walking around to front of the bar,calmly) : Uh-uh . . . I'm not kidding, (takesher arm) Let's go.

FAT OLD LADY (shakes loose) : Get your handsoff me!

NEWMAN (grabs her more viciously; angrily) :Dammit, let's go. (starts to drag her towardback room)

FAT OLD LADY (slugging him desperately withher free arm, but in vain) : Let go of me, damnyou . . . you . . . you maniac! Somebody helpme, please! How can you all just sit there? . . .(No one else moves, as NEWMAN drags the

struggling, screaming, kicking FAT OLD LADYinto the back room with one arm as with the otherhitnd he continues to test the blow-torch. The doorcloses, and in a jew seconds, the FAT OLDLADY's cries become screams')LIZ (looks up dazedly from her beer): Can't

shomebody shtop him? I don't want Paul shouldget in no trouble . . .

SAM: Yeah, why don't you stop him, Louis?LOUIS: Maybe I should . . . I guess the S.P.C.A.

would have a better punishment . . . but Idunno . . . this is a pretty good second choice. . . you wanna stop him, Charlie?

CHARLIE (chuckles maliciously): Ha, fifteenyears I've had that gal ride my streetcar, and —

LOUIS: Forget that I asked.CHARLIE: Where's Sydney? He'll stop him!LOUIS (calling): Syd - ney!

(SYDNEY comes in front entrance)SYDNEY: Huh?LOUIS: Sydney, your gal's getting burned!

Ain'tcha gonna do something about it?SYDNEY: Huh?CHARLIE: That fellow's in there going over her

with a blow-torch!SYDNEY: Oh. (turns to SAM)CHARLIE: Well aren't you gona stop him?SYDNEY (sexily) : Hi - yah, Sam ...SAM: /'// stop him! (goes to door. Just as he

opens it, the screams stop.) Ooops. He'sstopped.(LOUIS and CHARLIE join SAM at the door-

way, and stare in horor into the room)LOUIS: Oh my god!CHARLIE: Uhhhhh (holds his stomach).

(NEWMAN appears and pushes his waythrough the men. He wipes the sweat from hisforehead with the back of his hand, then jamshis hands boyisly into his pockets. He smilesslightly).NEWMAN: She should have died hereafter.TENNESSEE WILLIAMS (aside) : Sounds good

. . . . I think I'll use that.CURTAIN

SCENE IV(Ten years later, but none of the characters

have aged at all, except LIZ, who has aged tre-mendously. She is now very ill, and lies stretchedout on the center table. SAM stands over her, try-ing to care for her. LOUIS and CHARLIE are stillin conversation at their table, and TENNESSEEWILLIAMS has not moved).LOUIS: It's been comin' to this for a long time.CHARLIE: Near the end of the line, is she?LOUIS: Yeh . . . damn near. I'm surprised she's

lasted this long.CHARLIE: Is is just from the beer?LOUIS: She ain't had much else to eat or drink,

has she?CHARLIE: No, I guess not. If I'd put away as

much beer as she has, I'd sleep so long Iwouldn't get a chance to die.

19

LOUIS: Or die early, and make the sleeping thatmuch longer.

CHARLIE: Naw, on that much beer, I'd have tokeep getting up anyway.

SAM: How you feelin, Miss?(LIZ moans)

LOUIS: Shame . . . a real shame.LIZ: Uhhh . . . Paul . . .SAM: Where's Paul?LOUIS: Back room. I'll get him. (goes into back

room)LIZ: Paul . . . where's Paul . . .SAM: He's comin', honey.LIZ: Well . . . damn . . . his ... soul . . . tell

. . . him to hurry, or ... or ... I'll . . •SAM: He's comin', I promise.

(NEWMAN appears in the doorway, surveysthe room quietly for a few seconds; then, finishesa can of Haivaiian Punch quickly, and sets theempty can on the counter as he walks in.)NEWMAN: Wassa matter?SAM: She wants to see you, boy.NEWMAN: Oh yeh? She got a problem?SAM (very quietly) : She's dying, son.NEWMAN: Yeh, that is a problem. What am I

s'posed to do, kill her, cure her, or kick her offthe table so we can have a little rummy?

SAM (still suietly) : You might talk to her —nicely, if you can.

NEWMAN: Well, I ...LIZ: Paul? . . .NEWMAN: Yeh, bitch?LIZ:' Paul, is ... that . . . you?NEWMAN: Naw, it's my mother with a sore

throat. Always sick anyway, the old ass.LIZ: Paul . . .NEWMAN: What's on your mind, Maggie Rag-

nell?LIZ: Paul . . . could you . . . talk . . . to me?SAM (to CHARLIE and LOUIS) : We'd better

clear out, fellows. (All exit except LIZ andNEWMAN, and TENNESSEE WILLIAMS,who remains quietly in his corner.)

NEWMAN: I'm. a lousy talker . . . I can telldirty jokes, if you want . . . I'm gonna have aHawaiian Punch. You want a beer?

LIZ: Paul . . .NEWMAN: Naw, I guess you don't want a beer.

That stuff'll kill you if you don't watch out.No beer then, huh?

LIZ: Paul, don't you know . . . how . . . to talk. . . to a . . . dying person?

NEWMAN: Well . . . Yes, by God! That's onething I have been trained in! (takes watch frompocket) My grandfather gave me this. Listen,(holds watch by her ear) No tick, right? Well,

there's a litle knob on the top, and you can onlywind it so far, depending on how strong youare. So, if you're dying, you wind that knob

'just as far as you can, and it goes tick-tock, tick-tock . . . tick-tock . . . and when it stops . . .you're dead.

LIZ: Suppose . . . suppose . . . you die . . . beforeit ... stops . . . ?

NEWMAN (pensively) : When it stops, you'redead, (lays watch on table) Well, I'm gonnaget a drink, (brushes arm across table, knock-ing watch to the floor; glances back quickly,mutters "Hell", but then ignores it; goes be-hind the bar to get a drink(While his back is turned, LIZ quickly sits up,

jumps off table, picks up watch, climbs back up,and stretches out again. NEWMAN returns withcan of Haivaiian Punch. LIZ extends watch tohim.)NEWMAN: Thanks. That's kind of you.LIZ: . . . I ... like to ... please you, . . . Paul

NEWMAN: Yeh . . . (pause) . . . you know, youmay not be so bad after all.

LIZ: Paul . . . that's the nicest . . . nicest . . .thing . . . you've ever . . . said . . . to me . . .

NEWMAN: What's your name, girl?LIZ: Elizabeth.NEWMAN: Elizabeth what?LIZ: There's . . . a lot ... more . . . I've got . . .

a ... name . . . for . . . every part . . . of my. . . body . . .

NEWMAN (nods): You're right. There's a lotmore.

LIZ: Paul . . . will you . . . talk . . . to me?NEWMAN: I guess so.LIZ: Paul . . . what . . . what . . . are you? You're

no ... bum . . . Paul . . . you . . . must . . ,do something . . .

NEWMAN: I'm a philosopher.LIZ: That's . . . one . . . hell . . . of ... a thing

to be ... What's . . . your philosophy?NEWMAN: Life is a banana.LIZ: A ... a banana?NEWMAN: Yeh. I'm not sure why . . . It came

to me in a dream. I know it's rotten once youget the peel off, but I can't figure out what thegoddam yellow peel stands for.

LIZ: Paul . . .NEWMAN: Huh?LIZ: That's a ... a ... stupid philosophy.NEWMAN: It's different.LIZ: Uh - uh . . . You're right . . . Paul . . .

Paul, don't . . . ever conform . . .NEWMAN: I won't. Elizabeth . . .LIZ: Yes?

20

NEWMAN: Elizabeth, you've . . . you've tried tobe nice to me . . .

LIZ: Uh-huh .NEWMAN: And you would have been . . . if I'd

let you . . . I just want to tell you . . .LIZ: Yes?NEWMAN: Elizabeth . . . You ain't no grubby

yellow banana peel.LIZ: Thank . . . you . . . You're . . . too . . .

sweet . . .NEWMAN: How is it?LIZ: I've . . . just . . . a-about . . . had it ...NEWMAN: You fight it?LIZ: Say hi to the banana man for me, will you?

(He kisses her. She dies)NEWMAN: She's dead. She's dead! Dead! Hell,

look at that! That body, the only thing shehad that was worth more than ten damn cents. . . And the only thing she left behind. Damnbeer-filled belly and a battered brain! What thehell good is that? Damn! Damn! (He poundsbis fist on the table; then suddenly grabs edgeof table and lifts it up, dumping LIZ to thefloor. He then throws himself face-down onthe table, sobbing and pounding his fist. Theothers file in slowly from the back room.)

SAM: (suddenly speaking in a high-pitched,witch-like voice) : Welll . . . Shall we buryher with the old lady? Heh — heh — heh.

LOUIS (in the same type voice) : Heavennnnn . . .forbid. Those floor boards are hard to move!

CHARLIE (also whining like something un-earthly): Heh -- heh -- heh . . . What todooooo . . . with her, then?(All begin dancing around the table, where

NEWMAN lies sobbing, and LIZ's body on thefloor. They chant in hideous high-pitched voices)CHARLIE: What to doooo . . . ? What to do?LOUIS: What to dooo . . . ? You can't do

much! Can't do much with a mortal lush!SAM: What to do? What to do? What to

dooo . . . ?LOUIS: I say burn!CHARLIE: And burn it is !SAM: Burn! Burn! Roast her to a turn!NEWMAN (looks up soberly): Have you all

lost your minds? (they laugh shriekingly)CHARLIE: What to dooo . . . What to do? What

to do with her boyfriend, too?LOUIS: We can't burn him!SAM: No he's not dead!LOUIS: Oh, let him rot! Burn her instead!CHARLIE: Yes! Hoist her up, and tie her

down!LOUIS: We'll burn you, bitch, you're going to

SAM (throivs bucket of water on LIZ) : Drown!Now wake up, corpse, or burn you will!

CHAALIE: She'll not wake up!LOUIS: She's dead\ . . . and still . . .SAM: What to dooo . . . ? What to dooooo . . . ?NEWMAN (jumps to his feet on the table):

Stop! (silence) I don't know what this allmeans, but I think this death has gone to yourheads. Now stop acting like children, and let'ssober up! Okay? (a shriek of laughter fromthe others.)

LOUIS: What to dooo. . . ?CHARLIE: Do what you can!SAM: Do what you can with a crazy man!CHARLIE: Call the intern!LOUIS: He's lost his mind!SAM: You can't do much when you come to this

kind!(goes to the phone and dials)

LOUIS: Easy, son!CHARLIE: We'll do what's best!LOUIS: Settle down and get some rest!SAM: The intern's coming.CHARLIE: He's on his way!LOUIS: He'll take you away to brighter day!NEWMAN (gets down from table): I hope

there is an intern coming. Somebody to straight-en you fellows out. I don't know what's . . .

SAM: Straighten us out!CHARLIE: Do you hear the man?LOUIS: Straighten him out, if you think you can!CHARLIE: The man's a nut!LOUIS: A neglected child!SAM: Tie him down, or he'll go wild!LOUIS: Give him away to the kind intern!SAM: Give him away!CHARLIE: Then her we'll burn!SAM: What to doooo . . . ? What to dooo . . . ?

(a knock on the outside door) It's the intern!CHARLIE: The intern!LOUIS: The intern!SAM: The intern! Let him in!LOUIS: Let him in!CHARLIE: Come in!SAM: Come in!

(enter INTERN with straight jacket)NEWMAN (with sigh of relief) : Thank good-

ness you've come, Mr. Intern . . .SAM: Mr. Intern! Here's your man!LOUIS: If you can't handle him . . .CHARLIE: No one can!

(INTERN starts to shore NEWMAN intostraight jacket.)NEWMAN (struggles loose) : Now wait a min-

ute. This is ridiculous! Can't you see it's themthat's crazy, not me?(the INTERN is extremely strong. He forces

21

NEWMAN into the straight jacket without aword, locks it, and shoves him toward the door.)NEWMAN: Now, hold on!LOUIS: Take care of him, Intern!'CHARLIE: Hold him tight!SAM: That man's a mess!CHARLIE: His brain's not right!

(INTERN pushes NEWMAN out the door,and follows; then he steps back inside for a mo-ment.)INTERN: What to dooo . . . ? How to act?

What to do with a maniac? Heh -- heh —heh. (exit)(There is a brief silence, during which the men

seem to be returning to their old selves. Whenthey speak, they are clearly normal once again.)SAM: Fellow sure was off his rocker, wasn't he?LOUIS: Something about her dying did it to him,

I guess.CHARLIE: Yeh. I hate to see people get that

way. He might have been worth something tothis world. Probably would have made a goodactor.

LOUIS: Poor fellow. I'd hate to see what he hasto go through now. I hear these hospitals ain'tall they're made out to be.(TENNESSEE WILLIAMS gets up and joins

the group.)WILLIAMS: Well, gentlemen, I'm afraid I have

to be leaving you.SAM: Leaving ? So soon ?CHARLIE: How are you getting out, sir? They

haven't finished working on Irving yet.WILLIAMS: I'll walk . . . or take a cab.SAM: What's wrong, Mr. Williams? This place

too boring for you?WILLIAMS: Well, it has lost most of its color.SAM: Yeh, you're right about that. We haven't

got too many of the original crew, have we?LOUIS: Oh, I don't know — we've still got Syd-

ney, (calls) Hey, Sydney!(SYDNEY enters on the run, from outside)

SYDNEY: Huh?LOUIS: Sydney, we-SYDNEY: Hi-yah, Mr. Williams, you great big

WILLIAMS (quickly): Uh, I'll see you fellowsagain sometime. It's been real nice, and I'msure I've learned something from the visit, butI've really gotta run — and I mean run! Bye.(Turns and runs out front entrance)

SAM: See ya later, Mr. Williams!SYDNEY: Hey, where's he goin', huh?CHARLIE: You know, that guy is a really smart

man.SAM: Yeh, in more ways than one.

CURTAIN

EPILOGUE

(Hot summer day, fifteen years after end ofplay. The tavern has not changed. As the curtainopens, it is empty except for an old, bearded man,who dozes at one of the tables. Enter stuffy, mid-dle-aged women tourists.)

FIRST TOURIST: God, it's hot down here! Ihope this place has something to drink.

SECOND TOURIST : You said it! Who's incharge here?(The old man looks up. It is SAM, aged con-

siderably. )

SAM: Can I help you, ladies?FIRST TOURIST: Yes. Do you sell drinks?SAM: Just about any kind, I reckon.FIRST TOURIST: Good. Do you have Hawaiian

Punch?SAM: Hawaiian Punch?FIRST TOURIST: Why, yes. Is there something

strange about that?SAM: Uh . . . No, I guess not. Everybody drinks

Hawaiian Punch. Rosy Red or Sunshine Yel-low ?

FIRST TOURIST: Does it matter?SAM: Not much. Red's a little better.FIRST TOURIST: Okay. We'll have two reds,

then.SAM: Comin' up.

(He serves the drinks, which the two ladiessip quietly for a few seconds.)SECOND TOURIST: We came down to see that

museum, but it's not much more than a grubbyold streetcar.

FIRST TOURIST: Yeah, how come they made astreetcar into a museum, anyway?

SAM: Well, Irving wouldn't move . . .SECOND TOURIST: Irving?SAM: That's what we used to call the streetcar

. . . and besides, there's quite a story involved.SECOND TOURIST: Really? Do you know the

story ?SAM: Reckon I do. I was right here for most

of it.SECOND TOURIST: Could you tell it to us?SAM: Sure. There's really not too much to tell

. . . Just a matter of a couple of beer cans onthe track . . . (enter TENNESSEE WILLIAMS,unaged. He goes to his corner table and sitsdown.) . . . and some fellow out to make aneasy dollar . . .

CURTAIN

22

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