Wednesday, October 03, 2012
A rocket hurtles out of the sky and lands with a crash, a plume of smoke trailing behind it.
A 1988 Kia comes down the road. Inside are Yetta and Morris, a middle-aged Jewish couple.
YETTA: Morris, stop the car!
YETTA: What do you mean why? Didn’t you just see that?
MORRIS: Let’s not get involved.
YETTA: Stop the car or so help me I’m taping over BAYWATCH.
MORRIS: Alright. Alright. I’ll stop the car. Leave it to you to want to examine every little object that falls out of the sky.
YETTA: You know that's a terrible show, right?
MORRIS: Look, I stopped the car, okay?!
YETTA: Let's have a look.
She gets out of the car.
MORRIS: What? We're getting out of the car? Aren’t we trespassing?
YETTA: Oh shut up.
He follows her across the field.
MORRIS: Who knows? Someone may come and think we did this.
They arrive at the scene.
YETTA: It’s some sort of rocket.
MORRIS: Great. You happy now? It’s a rocket. Let’s go.
YETTA: Aren’t you even curious as to how it got here?
YETTA: That’s ridiculous.
MORRIS: You haven't been to the Dairy Queen lately.
YETTA: (examining closer) Wait a minute. Morris, I think there’s a baby inside.
MORRIS: Okay. Now we’re leaving for sure.
YETTA: I swear I'm erasing all eight episodes of BAYWATCH.
MORRIS: Well then just kill me!
YETTA: Who do think would do such a thing?
MORRIS: I told you, the skinheads. There's probably a new chapter -- Hitler Toddlers.
YETTA: Well, we’ve got to get the poor thing out.
MORRIS: I’ll call the Auto Club.
YETTA: We can’t wait forty-five minutes. Give me a hand. We’ve got to get it out ourselves.
MORRIS: What? Us? Are you crazy? That thing is hot. What if I order a pizza? They’ll be here in thirty minutes or less. Let the pizza boy open the rocket. I'll tip him.
YETTA: I should have married Saul Gazin.
MORRIS: Oh, again with the "Saul Gazin". Mr. Perfect. He’d get the baby out. He probably has oven mitts right there in his glove compartment just for an emergency like this.
YETTA: My mother and the entire congregation was right about you.
She takes off her sweater, wraps it around her hand for protection and begins pulling at the latch. Out of guilt he wraps his jacket around his hand and joins in.
MORRIS: Move away. I’ll do this.
YETTA: Thank you. You're such a prince.
He yanks and pulls and strains.
MORRIS: If my back goes out, good luck getting the Nazis to pay for my medical bills.
YETTA: Maybe if you exercised more than once every fifteen years.
MORRIS: Do YOU want to do this?
YETTA: No. Fine. Keep going.
MORRIS: Stop nagging. I’ve never broken into a rocket before.
YETTA: Sorry… but you really do have no muscle tone.
Finally, the latch opens.
YETTA: Oh thank God!
YETTA: He is so cute.
MORRIS: He? Then that rules out China.
YETTA: Why would anyone do this to a precious little baby?
MORRIS: You’re looking for answers? In this crazy world? Why can't they solve the Middle East? How could a thing like the Exxon Valdez oil spill happen? How did Rick Dees get a national television show? I think the real question here is what are we going to do with him? Does Protective Services have a UFO division?
YETTA: Morris, why don’t we keep him?
YETTA: We always wanted a baby.
MORRIS: Yetta, that’s insane. We also want a time share in Hawaii.
YETTA: We talked about adopting. Y’know, after learning that your sperm count was low.
MORRIS: You gotta bring that up, don’tcha? I bet Saul Gazin could repopulate the world!
YETTA: I’m just saying.
MORRIS: Look, you can pull the cable out of the wall. I’m not keeping this child.
YETTA: Don’t you see what this is? It’s a sign from God, Morris. It’s like when Bithiah found baby Moses floating on the Nile and raised him. Change boat to guided missile and it’s the same thing. Morris, this child – I just get the sense he’s… special in some way. And there’s a reason we found him. These things are not by accident. If that had landed five minutes earlier maybe Martha and Jonathan Kent would have found him and fifteen years from now he’d be selling dope.
MORRIS: (softening) Well… I always did want a son to take over the Woolworth store. But what if his real parents do come after him? What if we see a milk carton and there is the baby or a picture of the rocket?
YETTA: Then we’ll call Protective Services.
MORRIS: This is so nuts.
YETTA: Morris, I won’t ask you for another thing for months. Not even a new garbage disposal that if you have a nose you know we need desperately.
He considers, then finally:
MORRIS: Alright. We’ll take him.
MORRIS: Yes, because my life isn't stressful enough.
YETTA: Oh, darling. I’m so happy.
MORRIS: What do we name him? And if the answer is "Saul" then the deal's off.
YETTA: How about Zvee? After my grandfather.
MORRIS: A perfect name for a kid growing up in Kansas. Zvee Sugarman.
YETTA: I love you.
MORRIS: Yeah yeah. Let’s go eat.
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK:
By Ken Levine at 6:00 AM