Max, a gargantuan man considerably older than the rest of them, limps onstage. He is carrying firewood in his arms.

MAX: (Oblivious to Fritz's rant) Heil Hitler!

FRITZ: He's fine!

MAX: Huh?

FRITZ: Hitler, he's fine.

MAX: Oh, good. Are we leaving?

FRITZ: Actually yeah, turns out we've still got a bit of a walk.

MAX: What happened to Captain Dietrich?

Wilhelm desperately tries to hide the telegram.

Pause.

FRITZ: He didn't make it...

MAX: Who are you?

MARCEL: Hello, you must be Max, my name is Marcel-

MAX: Fritz he's French!

Max drops the firewood and reaches for his pistol.

FRITZ: Max it's alright he's one of us, okay?! He's SS.

MAX: SS?

FRITZ: Promise. Now put that away.

MAX: He could be a spy.

FRITZ: He's not, he's got the tattoo, I checked. Trust me, no spy's getting caught dead with that tattoo anymore.

MAX: Well he doesn't look SS.

Max points his pistol at Marcel.

FRITZ: Since when the fuck was that a shootable offence?!

MAX: Since...

Pause.

FRITZ: Well that argument's clearly not holding up! He's SS okay? Waffen SS, and I mean actual Waffen SS, he's been fighting in France.

Pause.

MAX: That true?

MARCEL: Well I'm not going to say no.

Max takes a step towards Marcel.

FRITZ: (To Marcel) Where did you inherit your sense of humour?! Max he's one of us okay? I promise, swear on the Führer's life-...dog.

MAX: Dog?

FRITZ: Mhmm.

Pause.

MAX: I do like dogs.

FRITZ: Everyone likes dogs.

MARCEL: I don't-

FRITZ: (Whispering) You fucking love dogs okay?!

MAX: Soldier?

MARCEL: In France.

Max salutes Marcel.

MAX: Thank you for your service.

MARCEL: You're welcome. Now would you kindly stop pointing your pistol at me?

MAX: Sorry.

Max holsters his pistol.

FRITZ: All good? Brilliant, let's go! Marcel, you're in charge of the map, lead us away.

Flight of the Maybug (Script)Where stories live. Discover now