Scene One.
A small room with an old chair lower centre stage. Paul Punch enters and walks downstage to the chair where a female puppet is sitting. He is dressed in a well-worn black suit and bow tie. Judy is thin, but life size, made up with dark eye shadow, bright red lipstick and clothed in a red knee-length dress. Paul picks up Judy and sits her on his lap. He fiddles behind her back. She opens her eyes and swivels her head from left to right and back again.
Paul: Have you been lonely sat there on your own? (Pause. Fiddles again behind Judy’s back. Judy opens her eyes wide and pokes out her tongue.)I didn’t mean to leave you like that but the stage manager wanted me to discuss a few matters. You didn’t mind did you? I know you hate being left all alone on the stage or in the case, but I didn’t know he was going to be so long.
Judy: Well don’t do it again.
Paul: I said I was sorry.
Judy: You always say you’re sorry, but you still do it. I was left in my case for twelve hours last week. How would you like to be shut up in a case for twelve hours with the smell of old socks and cigarettes butts?
Paul: Not so loud. Do you want the stagehands to catch you answering me back? Now keep your voice down. And don’t get all uptight.
Judy: Keep your voice down. Keep your voice down. You keep your voice down! After all, it’s your voice that starts it all off. (Pause.)And keep your hands to yourself. Touching me up at the back there. Not a thing a girl likes. Well not all girls. Some girls do, some girls don’t.
Paul: You’re a bloody puppet! I have to fiddle about back here to put things in order. How do you think you’d move your hands and lips if it weren’t for me?
Judy: I can manage. I have to manage when you’re not here.
Paul: Oh, no you can’t.
Judy: Oh yes, I can.
Paul: You can’t.
Judy I can.
Paul: You can’t.
Judy: I can and I am. Right now. Here at this moment I’m bloody speaking for myself.
Paul: Don’t get all smart and superior. I’m the one moving your strings back here. (Fiddles at the back.)Without me, you’re nothing. You’re just a lump of wood and cloth with strings attached.
Judy
Pushes herself off Paul’s lap, walks down to the edge of the stage, and peers out into the auditorium.)Not so smart now are you? Not as powerful as you thought, are you? (Paul rubs his head. He stares at Judy vacantly.)You’ve had your days of fiddling with me. No more Mr. Punch. You’ve had your fun with me. I’m going solo. I’m working on my own.Paul
Stands up and walks slowly to where Judy is standing.)What do you think you’re playing at? If anyone came in now they’d think…They’d think they were seeing things and…Judy: And what? (Looks at Paul.)What makes you so superior now? Nothing. You’re just a puppeteer with no puppet.
Paul: And you’re just a puppet with no puppeteer.
Judy: I don’t need a puppeteer. I can mange well enough without one.
Paul: You can’t be a puppet without a puppeteer. It doesn’t work like that. Never has, never will. It’s against the rules and regulations.
Judy: There’s a first time for everything. This is my first time. I can say what I want and when I want.
Paul: I can’t have that. How can I run a show with you mouthing it off all the time? Now, go and sit down again and do as you’re told and stop this nonsense.
Judy: I don’t want to sit down. I want to stand. I want to stand until I can’t stand anymore. And I want to see what I see when I see it. Like the audience. (Pause. Smiles.)Who do you think they come to watch: you or me?
Paul: Me of course. They try to catch me out by seeing if they can see me move my lips while you’re talking.
Judy: It’s me their interested in, not you. Why would they be interested in you? You’re just a man in a well-worn black suit. I’m the interesting one. I’m the puppet. I’m Judy. Ju-dy. Juuuu-dy. Jujujujudy.
Paul: Shut up you lump of wood!
Judy: That’s it; bring out all your prejudices against us puppets.
Paul: Go and sit down and be quiet!
Judy: You’re losing it. You’ve lost your touch. You’ve lost me that’s for sure. No more of your interfering with me.
Paul
Grabs Judy and tries to drag her back to the chair, but she resists and there’s a struggle on the edge of the stage. Finally Paul gives up and stands exhausted.)Bitch!Judy: Puppet-grabber!
Paul: Cow!
Judy: Puppet-molester!
Paul: Stick insect!
Judy: Loser!
Paul: Hope the woodlice get you!
Judy: Hope the taxman catches up with you!
Paul
Goes quiet for a moment.)You wouldn’t? You wouldn’t tell on me?Judy: I would. Given half a chance, I would
Paul: Not now? Not after all these years of us being together?
Judy: Why not? I didn’t see a penny of any money. Not a penny. Not a brass farthing. (Pause. Looks at Paul.)I know what you got up to. I know because I was there watching you.
Paul: Watching me? What do you mean, watching me?
Judy: You thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. Watching you counting out your money and pocketing it and not so much as thought about me and what I might want. (Begins to cry.)Not a thought of what I might want or need. Not a concern if my strings were wearing thin or if my clothes were getting tattered or worn out. Not a new dress in years. (Sobs.)How would you like it if you had to wear the same dress year in year out?
Paul: I don’t wear dresses.
Judy: If you did, you wouldn’t like wearing the same dress for years on end without as much as a change of underclothes.
Paul: Underclothes? Underclothes? What the bloody hell would a puppet want with underclothes?
Judy: It’s a matter of decency and decorum and of being properly attired.
Paul: Puppets don’t need a change of underclothes. They don’t need them because they’re puppets. They don’t know about these things, puppets don’t. They’ve got no brain to think or know such things
Judy: I know. I know when my underclothes haven’t been changed for years because I’m the bugger that has to put up with it. Sitting on your lap night after night in front of the audience knowing full well, my underclothes are the same ones as the night before and the night before that. It isn’t right. Not the sort of thing a girl should have to put up with.
Paul: That dress isn’t that old.
Judy: Isn’t old? I’ve been wearing this dress since before the War.
Paul: I was wearing this black suit the day War broke out, so what have you got to moan about?
Judy: Not the same underclothes though, I bet.
Paul: Lily Lodswitch made that dress for you. Cost me a pretty penny back then. (Pause.)Had to have it made to measure. She came and measured you. Remember that? Remember when she measured you?
Judy: Course I do. I was stark naked for hours while she buggered about with her blooming tape and pins in her mouth.
Paul: Anyway, get back to the chair before someone comes along, sees you here, and wonders what the game is.
Judy: No. I’ve had enough of you and your meddling.
Paul: Do you want someone to come along and see you standing there like some freak?
Judy: Oh, leave me alone. Go off, have a drink, and drown your sorrows.
Paul: Look, I’ve had enough of this nonsense. We’ll be on in half an hour and I’m getting blooming tired of you and your awkwardness. Now, get back there or I’ll…
Judy: You’ll what? Pick me up and carry back to the chair?
Paul: I’ll shut you in your case for the rest of the time. See how you like that.
Judy: Just you try and I’ll bite you.
Paul
Grabs Judy around the waist and lifts her awkwardly back towards the chair. She struggles and he moves side to side as if drunk.)I’ll drop you in a minute if you don’t keep bloody still. (Judy attempts to bite him and scratch him.)You little cuss! You dare bite me! (Moves backwards and then forwards unsteadily. Judy pulls at his hair and kicks out her legs. Finally, he manages to get her down on the chair on his lap where he holds onto her tightly.)There. (Sits exhausted for few moments.)Got you.Judy: You pig! You bullying pig! Let go of me you fiddling perisher!
Paul: Calm yourself down you lump of wood! (He breathes out heavily. Judy finally sits calm and stares at the auditorium.)I’ve not had such a struggle since my honeymoon fiasco back in 1938.
Judy: I remember that.
Paul: How can you remember that?
Judy: Because you sat me in the chair by the bed in the hotel room, much to your wife’s unease. She didn’t like that one bit she didn’t. Poor mare.
Paul: Poor mare? She was a blooming cold fish she was. Anyone would have thought I was trying to murder her the way she went on.
Judy: That was laugh that was. Talk about a showman. She wasn’t having you pulling any of her strings that’s for sure.
Paul: What do you know about it? The lights were out.
Judy: I’m not deaf you know. I could hear even if I couldn’t see. (Laughs.)
Paul: Not so loud! You’ll have the management in here if you’re not careful.
Puts his hand over Judy’s mouth. She moves her head side to side and then bites his hand and he moves his hand away.)You bloody ferret! You’ve made my hand bleed now. (Shows her his hand.)Look at it. Blood. Real blood. It could go septic and rotten and then where would we be?Judy: Good job, too. Hope you bleed to death. Hope you get blood poisoning and die a slow death over the next month or two.
Paul: You’ve no respect anymore. (Pause.)Once upon a time, you’d have done as you were told and sat there like a dummy with not a word out of you. All still and quiet. Well behaved. Well mannered.
Judy: That was then and this is now. I’m leaving you and starting up on my own. Have my name in lights. My name alone on the billboards.
Paul: Oh, no you won’t.
Judy: Oh, yes I will.
Paul
Picks her up again and carries her upstage awkwardly.)You’re going in the case to calm you down for half an hour. I’m not having this anarchy.Judy
She struggles, but finds herself unable to get free.)Let me go you hogwash bottlebrush pig-faced idiot! Put me down! (She continues to struggle until off stage. Her voice can be heard but softer as if in a case. Silence.)End of Scene One.
Scene Two.
Half an hour later. On a stage. Two chairs lower centre stage. Paul is sitting on the chair stage right. Judy is sitting on chair left. Paul’s right hand is behind Judy’s back.
Paul: And there were these two bishops who went to bed together…
Judy
Interrupts.)And which one wore the nightdress? Mrs Bishop.Paul
Looks at Judy with annoyance.)Oh, thanks a lot. Give away the punch line. Spoil my career, why don’t you.Judy: What career? You’re on your last legs as a ventriloquist anyway.
Paul
Smiles weakly.)You can’t get the dummies these days. I was spoilt for dummies and I had to choose her. Anyone would think I needed her. There’s plenty more where she came from. Plenty more.Judy: Spoilt for choice? You? You’ve had me since 1936, that’s no lie, and not another puppet has had your hand up their back as you’ve been up mine. I wonder sometimes what sort of a marriage you’ve got. No wonder you and your wife sleep in separates beds.
Paul: What my wife and I do is no concern of yours.
Judy: Just as well.
Paul: Just as well is right.
Judy: I’d rather sleep in a rat hole than in a bed with you.
Paul
Sighs.)A dummy should know its place. Not to speak until it’s spoken for. Not a word unless the puppeteer wishes it so.Judy: Not if it wants an intellectual conversation.
Paul: You’re just a doll. A wooden doll wrapped in cloth, glue and string. You’re nothing without me. You’re just a plaything.
Judy: Oh, that’s right, so right. Plaything is the truth, my friend. I’ve been your plaything for years. Ever since you picked me up out of that second hand junk shop in Brighton I’ve been nothing to you but a mere plaything. A plaything you can interfere with and molest.
Paul: Brighton? It wasn’t Brighton. It was Southend. May 1936. I remember it well. You were all tattered and grubby and I managed to get the bloke down to half the price he was asking back then.
Judy: And I ended up with you for my sins.
Paul: I gave you a good home and shelter. I could have left you there to rot amongst the other junk for years and years on end.
Judy: I wished you had. At least it would have been a gradual process and I wouldn’t have your bloody hand up my back fiddling about all the time.
Paul
Pause. Looks out at the auditorium.) Not one of her good days. (Nods towards Judy.)You know what females are like. As unpredictable as the weather. And like the weather, they can be nice, calm, and warm one moment and the next they’re all stormy, full of thunder and lightning.Judy: To think I could have belonged to a real ventriloquist. I used to belong to the Great Bernard until he had his heart attack in 1927. He was a great one he was. Took me all around the music halls and theatres. Eighteen ninety-seven was his best year we toured almost everywhere that year.
Paul: The ladies and gentleman don’t want your life history. It’s me they came to listen to, not you. Who wants to listen to a bloody doll? Eighteen ninety-seven? My giddy aunt’s behind. You’re full of stories you are.
Judy: And what were you before I came along? Nothing. A mere nobody. It was me, Judy the puppet, they came to see.
Paul: Rubbish! They’d come to see me if I had a dead rat on the end of my arm.
Judy
Rises up from the chair and rushes to the edge of the stage.)What’s he know about throwing his voice when he can’t even throw his dirty clothes in the wash. You should see his room. Clothes everywhere. No wonder his wife’s worn thin and tired all the time. Paul
Jumps up and goes to where Judy is standing.)What the blue blazes are you doing? (Smiles weakly at the auditorium.)A new trick we’ve been trying out. Good isn’t it? Grabs Judy’s arm and tries to drag her back to the chairs.)Now come and sit down and be quiet; you’re causing a disruption.Judy: Let go of me you dummy fingering half breed you.
She struggles and they wrestle back and forth for a few moments until Paul gives up and collapses in his chair.)You’re out of breath you old bleeder you. You’re past it. You couldn’t give chase to a paralysed rabbit with its legs tied together.Paul
Speaks as if out of breath.)You aren’t normal you’re not. You have the devil in you. (Pause. They look at each other.)We’ve had better days. We’ve been closer than this. What’s become of us? Why can’t we close again?Judy
Walks back to her chair and sits down.)No more fiddling with my back?Paul: No more fiddling with your back.
Judy: No more leaving me for hours in that smelly old case?
Paul: No more leaving you in the case for hours.
Judy: Equal billing with my name as big as yours?
Paul: Equal billing with your name as big as mine.
Judy: And my money to go towards new dresses and underclothes?
Paul: Yes, yes, your money for new dresses and underclothes.
Judy: Right. Now that’s that sorted, perhaps we can get on with the show.
Paul
Sighs. Places his arm around Judy.)Got a young man yet, then, Judy?Judy: No, can’t find the type I like. All I end up with are blooming dummies with funny eyes, floppy arms and wide mouths.
Paul: What about coming out with me? I could show you a good time.
Judy: Go out with you? I’d rather go out with a tailor’s dummy. At least they’re armless and don’t go about talking all the time.
Paul: You’re a one aren’t you. Come on just you and me. No strings attached. (Laughs.)No strings attached. (Laughs.)What comic I am.
Judy: Oh, dear me. And this is show business. What a dummy run. (Light fades. Laughter and giggles in the darkness.)
The End.
