(Groves, at his desk, is still playing i...

(Groves, at his desk, is still playing idly with a pencil. Paul, with a thick batch of paper in his hand, stands and paces excitedly as:)

PAUL: Which really cracks the whole thing wide open. ’Cuz the thing about what’s comic, then, isn’t just some other guy’s a clown and doesn’t know how to behave. It’s that our behavior too is screwed up, in that it fails to predict properly. ’Cept that it’s, number one, not really or fault we failed to predict, and number two, no harm is done. So there’s this big jolt, quickly followed by this big relief. Like that we’re all of us bozos.

GROVES: (still focused on the pencil) Interesting.

PAUL: ’Cept I won’t say bozos in the paper. I’ll say fools. Or foolish maybe. And what humor expresses, see, is a feeling of no concern. Which is like a really liberating thing, obviously, having no concerns. So y’see, y’got liberation, and y’got relief, and y’got the unexpected and all those other things those early hot-shot theorists were talking about – ’cept I’ve taken ’em all together and made it one dynamic, cybernetic, patent-pending model. Voilà! Whaddya think?

(Groves puts the pencil in his teeth. Looks at Paul.)

GROVES: (finally) I like it.

PAUL: Do ya?

GROVES: Yes I do.

PAUL: ’Cuz you don’t act like ya do.

GROVES: No, I do.

PAUL: ’Cuz it’s like you’re distracted or something. Like ya got something else on your mind.

GROVES: I’m sorry. I am listening.

(Groves turns his full attention to Paul. Paul shrugs.)

PAUL: That’s all I got.

GROVES: It’s good work. Really first-rate, Paul.

PAUL: (nodding stupidly, embarrassed) Thank you.

GROVES: You should be proud of it.

(A moment or two pass a little awkwardly. They don’t have anything more to say really.)

GROVES: I am a little distracted, aren’t I?

PAUL: It’s okay.

GROVES: Y’see, my tenure evaluation is today.

PAUL: Really?

GROVES: Not merely today, in fact – but even as we speak.

PAUL: No kidding. (jokingly, breaking into a big grin) So is it like a celebration or a condolence, huh?

GROVES: I think it’s a condolence.

(A beat)

PAUL: C’mon. You don’t really think they’re gonna fire you, do ya?

GROVES: Yeah I think they are.

(Pause)

PAUL: That doesn’t make any sense.

(Groves gestures by turning his hands palms up.)

PAUL: Why?

GROVES: Oh…a number of reasons, I suppose.

PAUL: What do you mean you suppose? I mean…how come you’re not up there fighting for yourself?

GROVES: My particular presence is not permitted.

PAUL: At your own tenure trial?

GROVES: Evaluation.

PAUL: You mean…they go up there, and they talk about ya and stuff, and you can’t be there?

GROVES: Them’s the rules.

(Paul absorbs this for a moment or two, then returns to his chair.)

PAUL: What about students?

GROVES: What about ‘em?

PAUL: How come they don’t ask us to come up there and testify? ’Cuz there’s a few things I’d like to say about it. I oughta know something, shouldn’t I?! Jesus! (His breathing gets heavy.) I don’t believe it! (Tears start to form. He tries to swallow them back.) What am I cryin’ for? – you’re the one being fired.

(Groves gives a little chuckle.)

PAUL: How can you laugh?

GROVES: You tell me. You’re the expert.

PAUL: I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s funny you think it’s funny.

(Paul half chuckles at that. Groves responds to that with a full chuckle. Then Paul chuckles – then he stops.)

PAUL: Wait. This is not funny.

GROVES. You’re right.

(End Scene Seven)

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