WILHELM: Yes.
HARTLEY: You see Wilhelm; you are a good boy sometimes. We'll be doin' toes then.
Lieutenant Hartley continues joyfully picking through his toolbox.
WILHELM: (Inaudibly) Where did you fight?
HARTLEY: How's that?
WILHELM: The war, where did you fight?
HARTLEY: Oh no I didn't do no fightin' me, I'm a pacifist see.
Lieutenant Hartley pulls out a pair of heavy, iron pliers.
HARTLEY: Now don't suppose you remember how to crush toes with these do you? There is a knack to it, but I daresay I'm a bit rusty.
Swallowing his fear, Wilhelm shakes his head.
HARTLEY: We'll leave it, save 'em for a special occasion.
Lieutenant Hartley returns his attention to the toolbox.
HARTLEY: Hang on, what now's this?
Lieutenant Hartley removes a small cocktail stick from the box.
HARTLEY: Look here Willie, be a toothpick! How'd this wee nipper get in 'ere? You know when I was in France I saw these in peoples drinks all the time I did, as confusin' to me now as it was then. Why would you ruin a perfectly good drink with the possibility that your windpipe be impaled?
WILHELM: You're supposed to remove it before you drink.
Lieutenant Hartley stares at the cocktail stick in quiet disbelief.
HARTLEY: You know I think you might be on to something there lad.
Lieutenant Hartley hunches over the toolbox, his back facing outwards, covering it from view.
HARTLEY: (To himself) Remove it...
Something in the box catches the Lieutenant's eye.
HARTLEY: Willie, have you ever pitched a tent like?
WILHELM: Yes?
HARTLEY: So you know that them pegs need be hammered into ground?
WILHELM: Yes...
HARTLEY: And Doctor Willie, do toenails grow back?
Pause.
WILHELM: Yes.
Lieutenant Hartley turns around, a wide smile stretched across his face. In one hand he holds the cocktail stick, in the other, a large, wooden mallet.
HARTLEY: Good.
WILHELM: Oh fuck...
Lieutenant Hartley begins walking towards Wilhelm.
WILHELM: Get away from me!
Wilhelm begins frantically attempting to free himself.
HARTLEY: Oh come now Willie-
WILHELM: (Tearfully) Please! You can't do this, please!
HARTLEY: Willie-
WILHELM: (Sobbing) I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it I'm so sorry! Please don't hurt me, please!
HARTLEY: (Agitated) Willie...
Wilhelm's sobbing is uncontrollable.
WILHELM: Mumma-!
YOU ARE READING
Flight of the Maybug (Script)
Historical FictionHitler is dead and SS Captain Rudolph Dietrich has just committed suicide. Now, the surviving members of his ragtag squad, hell-bent in their desire to escape and surrender to western forces, must negotiate the wasteland of their own selfish wants i...
ACT 2
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