MAXWELL: Jesus fucking Christ, could someone get me a glass of water… Anyone. Could anyone get me a glass of water?

BEATRICE: Okay, I just need—

MAXWELL: Beatrice, I’m not kidding, don’t get one stop closer.

BEATRICE: But it’s just that—

MAXWELL: Beatrice, don’t you have any children?

BEATRICE: I used to, they all—

MAXWELL: Beatrice, do I look like I give a fuck about your children?

BEATRICE: Well, you asked—

MAXWELL: That was just so you could LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!

BEATRICE: That doesn’t make any sense-

MAXWELL: Go! Away! Scoot!

(BEATRICE exits, and BOBBIE MENINGITIS enters, she tries to be all business despite the fact that her crutches get the better of her.)

BOBBIE: Max, bubby! You’re doing great, you’re doing great! Is there anything I could get for you?

MAXWELL: A glass of goddamn water.

BOBBIE: (laughs) Always with the funny.

MAXWELL: Some drugs.

BOBBIE: Go on, pull the other one.

MAXWELL: (at the end of his rope, and losing space by the minute) Bobbie, what the hell do you want from me? Every hour you come in here, and ask me if I want something, and you never get it for me. It’s always the fucking same. What do you want? Huh?

BOBBIE: Max, what would I want? I just want you happy.

MAXWELL: You know what’ll make me happy, Bobbie? You know what’ll make me fucking happy? You either get me some whores, or some drugs. Something. I’m about to crash here and if I don’t get some stimulus, you’re gonna have yourself to blame. Do you understand me? Do you comprehend? Capiche?

BIFF: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to…

MAXWELL: I gotta go. Consider yourself lucky.

BOBBIE: Oh good… good…

BIFF: And now, the man responsible for those unexplainable warts on your privates… Maxwell Beep!

(Applause.)