ACT ONE:

On the pier, at the first.

Dad: “Nora, Nora, Nooooooooooorahhhhhh.” In a sing-song method.

Nora, screaming: “WHAT DO YOU WANT NOW, OLD MAN?”

She rinses off her hands in the briny and treks up from the boat house.

Dad: “Come here, Nora, my son’s CO has come to visit.”

Nora: To herself. “Thank Christ, I thought he needed another diaper change.”

She arrives.

Dad: “Nora, this is Frank. He was your husband’s Conscientious Objector during the war.”

Nora: “No, no he’s not, dad, he’s Humphrey Bogart and he’s a robber. He robbed my cradle.”

Dad: “Oh, Nora, don’t say such things. It’s wrong. You’re just mad because I had that onion sandwich late last night when we were watching Noir Alley and you had to tend me with a Depends.”

Nora rolls her eyes as her flat as a washboard stomach roils.

“Yes, Dad, I remember, distinkly.”

She glares at Hump.

“You’re awfully short and yet you let my sister sit in your lap standing up. Do you know who Chris Hansen is, uh, Frank?”

She smiles for the first time since arriving at Key Largo some fifty years earlier. Her Max Factor application cracks under the pressure.

Frank: “Does the cook who made you that onion sandwich own that combination gas station and greasy spoon up the road a piece? I stopped there and had an onion sandwich just an hour ago. He can’t cook, but, his wife is a blonde bombshell even though I detest war.”

The old man leans forward and passes gas into the ozone. Nora confirms it’s him and not Frank by fifty some years of experience.

Frank: “By the by, do you have a water closet, handy, real handy, I’m overdue?”

Nora: “Yes, it’s called the Bay of Pigs and I’m down to a handful of Depends until the sun dries the ones I washed out just now down there at the end of the pier in the briny, by that boat house. Any other questions?”

Frank: “Yes, did my disability check arrive? I had it forwarded here. I have a slight back ailment, from young ladies sitting in my lap when I’m standing up?”

Nora: “No, not yet.”

Dad: “Yes, three days ago. And three days ago I forged my son’s CO’s signature and got the Oseola brothers to cash it. Oh, are they in deep maize. The sheriff is off looking for them. The one Oseola brother is dressed just like Natalie Wood at the end of ‘The Searchers.’ Can’t miss her.”

Nora: “Oh, dad, how could you?”

Dad: “Easy, you taught me, daughter-in-law slash caretaker.”

Nora and dad laugh uproariously. Frank’s doodie bubble rises.

Frank: “O-M-G!!!”

ACT TWO:

Inside the Hotel Key Largo.

A caloric challenged man is standing behind the bar. He is playing it quite safe. Not only is he wearing suspenders, but, he also has his trousers buttoned to the top button hole on his white shirt just under his neck. He is wiping his forehead with his yellowish handkerchief.

Frank walks in carrying his fedora and his hat, wiping his brow with his white handkerchief.

It’s very hot and humid. Why anyone would live in this vicinity of America needs their shorts and head examined respectively. That means shorts first. Head second.

Frank: “Hi, I hate your guts already.”

Gomez: “You think you hate me now, wait till I nag you to let me buy you a drink. Watch: Let me buy you a drink so you can hate me less.”

Frank: “No.”

Gomez: “Please.”

Frank: “No, and no means no.”

Gomez: “Pretty please. I hate rejection and this South Beach Diet I’m on.”

Frank: “What’s your name?”

Gomez: “Thomas Gomez, but, my friends and fellow hijinkers call me ‘Skinny.’”

Frank: “Oh, you’re an Hispanic?”

Gomez: “No, and I resent you calling me that.”

Frank: “My deepest apologies, Skinny.”

Gomez: “Gracias!”

Frank: “See!”

Gomez: Are you ready for that drink now?”

Frank: “No. Maybe in about ten years.”

Gomez: “I’ll write that down on my Mexican calendar. Gracias!””

FRANK: “See!”

Gaye staggers in. She’s the head cheese’s squeeze. A chronic alcoholic she is dressed in a pleated skirt and won’t let go of her purse for money, marbles, nor chalk.

Gay: “I’ll drink with you, senor’.”

Gomez: “The boss says nothing till the sun crosses the yard arm.”

Gaye: “What time is that?”

Gomez: “That’s when the big hand is on the twelve and the little hand is on the nine, comprehende?”

Gaye: “See.”

Frank: “Give her a drink.”

Gomez: “Only if you agree to let me buy you a drink just once.”

Frank: “No. Let her eat cake.”

Gomez: “Look at her, she’s in no shape to eat cake. Why didn’t you starve?”

Gaye: “Me starve? Look at you, Skinny. Why didn’t you?”

Frank: “Hey, that’s my line!”

Gaye: “See.”