Personal References

a play in one act by
benjAmin beRg



cast of characters:
CHESTER LASWELL, a supervisor
JANICE FOXWEATHER, his assistant
MR SNYDER, their boss

MRS TREEHORN, an old lady
JACK SCAMPER, a liar
FRED GRAGG, a euchre partner


(setting: an office, or more accurately, two offices. There is an outer office, stage right, where JANICE sits. The outer office contains JANICE's desk, filing cabinets, and other office supplies appropriate for an assistant supervisor. The inner office, stage left, is LASWELL's office. It is larger and more comfortable than the outer office, however it is not especially large or expensively decorated. The two offices are separated by a door. There is also a door in the inner office which leads to a break-room, which is offstage and not visible. There are no windows in either office.)

(LASWELL enters, right, into inner office, where JANICE is at her desk)

Laswell: Morning, Janice. Any word on Max?

Janice: Still nothing. Nobody's seen him or heard anything about him.

Laswell: Hmmm. How about the computer?

Janice: They're still working on it downstairs.

Laswell: Damn this. Where did that boy go? What happened?

Janice: Maybe one of his personal references have some ideas about that.

Laswell: Ah, yes. The personal references. Well, let's hope so. At least we've managed to reach them. When were they supposed to start showing up, anyway?

Janice: The first one, a Mrs Edna Treehorn, is scheduled for an interview in 15 minutes.

Laswell: That soon? Oh well, I guess that's what I get for being late to work. Not that it was my fault, mind you. Traffic was backed up for miles on the interstate. You know how gawkers love to slow down when they pass an accident, even if the wrecked cars aren't blocking their way at all. This was even worse because the wrecked cars were two police cars crashed into the median.

Janice: Wow. Any idea what might've caused the accident?

Laswell: They said on the radio that there'd been a big chase earlier; someone had been racing to get out of town and two of the cops in pursuit sped out. Apparently it was one of those rare car chases that doesn't end in an arrest or explosion; the guy got away, they said.

Janice: Sounds dangerous. I'm glad I don't have to take the interstate as part of my commute.

Laswell: You don't have a commute, Janice. You live ten minutes away. Anyway, let me know when the first of the references arrives.

(LASWELL enters his inner office, places his briefcase on his desk, and exits left to break room. While he is gone, MRS TREEHORN enters inner office, stage right.)

Janice: May I help you?

Treehorn: Yes, I have an appointment to talk to a Lester Chadwell.

Janice: Mr. Laswell? Yes, are you Mrs Treehorn, his nine o'clock?

Treehorn: I am. Am I too early? I hope I'm not too early; wouldn't want to be a bother to you. I know my appointment's at nine and it's only 8:47, but the bus only comes to my street every half an hour, you know, and I thought it would probably be better to take the first bus and show up early, but then again Mr Ladsell might be busy and running late...

Janice: That's perfectly all right, Mrs Treehorn. Let me go tell Mr Laswell you're here. (gets up and goes enters inner office) Chester? Chester?

Laswell: (enters stage left, coffee in hand) Yes?

Janice: Mrs Edna Treehorn is ready to see you.

Laswell: Well, send her in. (JANICE returns to outer office, sends MRS TREEHORN into inner office) Hello, Mrs Treehorn! I'm Chester Laswell. (shaking her hand) Thank you so much for coming in to see me. Please sit. Can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?

Treehorn: Oh, no, dear. I just took my medication an hour or so ago, and it makes me sort of intolerant of liquids, you know. If I had a drink now it'd just whoosh, pass right through me, you know. Whoosh, just like that, a big mess. You might as well just pour the glass out right onto this chair, you know.

Laswell: Well we wouldn't want that. Well, let's get down to it, then. You might recall, as I said on the phone yesterday, that I called you in because Max Fadang listed you as a personal reference on his application.

Treehorn: Oh yes? Are you considering hiring him?

Laswell: (laughing) Oh no, we hired him nine months ago. The problem is more complex...

Treehorn: So you're not considering hiring him?

Laswell: Uh... yes, yes we are. I assume this means you do know Max Fadang?

Treehorn: Oh of course. A lovely boy, that Max. Knows how to fry a good fish, he does.

Laswell: Good. Well, the problem, you see, is that Max seemingly disappeared a few days ago. He hasn't been to work all week, and our repeated attempts to call him or stop by his home have been in vain. We've been scouring the accident reports, but no luck. Max was doing some important work for us before he vanished. We were hoping that you might have some idea where he is, what he might be doing...

Treehorn: You say he hasn't been to work all week? I can see why you're so unsure about hiring him.

Laswell: Yes, well... So have you seen him or heard from him?

Treehorn: Hmmm. It's funny you ask, since I could've sworn I bought some fish from him just yesterday lunch... Yes, I know I did. It was Tuesday. I always have fish on Tuesday.

Laswell: Yesterday was Wednesday. And what is all this about fish for lunch?

Treehorn: Fish! You know, salt of the ocean! Chicken of the sea! Nature's bounty! Max Phalanx, the boy you're thinking of hiring, he works at the fish stand on Maple. Good boy. Always generous with the tartar sauce, you know.

Laswell: He works where?

Treehorn: The fish stand on Maple. Sal's Fishery. No, wait, it changed its name a while back... It's not Sal's anymore, it's...

Laswell: How long has he been working there?

Treehorn: As long as I've been going there; I must imagine some 37 years. But it's not called Sal's anymore, it's called... ooh, I wish I could remember...

Laswell: Mrs Treehorn, I'm afraid there's a bit of a misunderstanding here. I'm not thinking of hiring Max Fadang; we already did. He started working here in June. And Max is only 29 years old, so there's no way he could...

Treehorn: Cod Corner!

Laswell: Beg pardon?

Treehorn: That's the new name of the fish stand, you know. I finally remembered it. The gears might need a bit more grease than they used to, but they still turn! It's the Cod Corner now. They had to change the name a few years back after poor Sal passed away. Oh dear...

Laswell: Problem?

Treehorn: Oh, I'm so sorry. While you've been going on about this boy you're looking for I must've gotten him confused with old Sal from the fish stand, rest his soul. And I don't know why you'd want to hire someone who died a few years ago. But if you did, you'd want Sal. He was a very kind man. Considerate, caring, witty...

Laswell: Always generous with the tartar sauce...

Treehorn: You knew him too? Didn't you just love the way his fish would stay crispy, even in malt vinegar, without being crunchy like it was overcooked or like it'd been sitting out too long?

Laswell: Back to the subject of Max Fadang...

Treehorn: Oh yes. I know who you mean now. A good boy. He reminds me of my sister Dottie's boy, Thomas his name is.

Laswell: And why is that?

Treehorn: Oh I don't know. Dottie was insistent on calling him that. I kept telling her that no good would come of a boy being named Thomas. The devil's own name, you know, Thomas is. But she wouldn't listen to me, and with all the trouble that boy's in these days...

Laswell: No, why does Max remind you of Thomas?

Treehorn: Because they're both drummers, of course. Though to tell you the truth, and don't tell Dottie I said this or she'll string me up like a cat's cradle, Thomas isn't a very good drummer. Just too noisy. That Max is much better.

Laswell: I didn't even know Max was into music. So do you have any idea where he might be?

Treehorn: Well I imagine he's in New York...

Laswell: And why would he be there?

Treehorn: Playing with his band, of course.

Laswell: He's in a band?

Treehorn: Of course he's in a band. What kind of a drummer would he be if he wasn't in a band?

Laswell: Hmmmm. It's possible, but if he were going to New York to play in a band, why wouldn't he tell us, ask for a few days off?

Treehorn: He's been doing it for several years now. Maybe he just assumed you knew.

Laswell: How long has he been doing it?

Treehorn: Well, they're on tv every night at 12:30. On that show with the tall Irishman, after the man with a chin bigger than his forehead. Haven't you ever seen him?

Laswell: Mrs Treehorn, you're thinking of Max Weinberg from Late Night with Conan O'Brien.

Treehorn: Isn't that who you were asking about?

Laswell: No. His name is Max Fadang. You must know him personally; he listed you as a personal reference on his... (looking through briefcase) hold on... (pulls photograph out of briefcase and shows it to MRS TREEHORN) This is Max Fadang.

Treehorn: Oh yes. I know him. He's one of my tenants. He works for Teleboom, Inc.

Laswell: That's us. So what do you know about him?

Treehorn: He's a nice boy. Always pays his rent on time; usually keeps to himself most of the time. Well, except for the weekly euchre game the neighbors dragged him into. I can't say the same for his guests, though.

Laswell: Guests?

Treehorn: He has visitors at strange hours. They come in, they snoop around the halls before going to his apartment, it's strange. I'd be nervous about it if they didn't dress right.

Laswell: What do you mean?

Treehorn: Oh, well kids these days have no idea how to dress, with all their torn up jeans that look like hand-me-downs from the Okies' farm, an' their tee shirts and their skirts so short I couldn't wear them as underwear let alone over. When I was young we knew how to dress, and Mr Fadang's guests do, too. They all come in with nice suits. They're polite. Although come to think of it, none of his regular visitors have come by this week. But those window glazers have been here ever since...

Laswell: Do you have any idea where Max might be, Mrs Treehorn?

Treehorn: No, I haven't heard anything. He never told me he was going anywhere.

Laswell: (getting up) Well, thanks a lot for coming in to talk to us, Mrs Treehorn.

Treehorn: (getting up) I wish I could've been more helpful.

Laswell: (leading her into outer office) Oh no, that's more than all right. Who knows, maybe something you said will be helpful.

Treehorn: I hope you hire him.

Laswell: (shaking her hand) I hope we do, too. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm very busy today.

Treehorn: Goodbye (exits stage right)

Janice: So?

Laswell: It was like talking to Ronald Reagan.

Janice: You mean... Alzheimer's?

Laswell: Something like that. I might as well have been talking about Reagan for all she could tell, the senile old bitch. She didn't know anything. Except...

Janice: Except what?

Laswell: Call Don. Tell him the glazing bit has gotten suspicious.

Janice: Will do. Speaking of the phone, Snyder's been calling for you. I told him you were interviewing the personal references, so he said he'd be coming down to talk to you personally later.

Laswell: Did he say what he wanted?

Janice: No. I assume if there'd been any progress he would've told me so I could pass it on to you. He probably just wants to nag.

Laswell: He needs to realize that I'm doing everything I can here.

Janice: I'm sure he knows that. What you need to realize is that he will go down for this a lot harder than you if we don't get everything fixed, and soon.

Laswell: Yeah, but if I hear him go on about the file again I'll...

(enter SCAMPER, stage right)

Janice: Can I help you?

Scamper: Yeah, I'm Jack Scamper...

Laswell: Mr Scamper, hello! (shaking hands) I'm Chester Laswell. Right this way. (leads SCAMPER into inner office) Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Something to drink?

Scamper: (sitting) Nah, I'm cool.

Laswell: Great, thanks for coming in. Mr Scamper, you might remember that I called you in here because you were listed as a personal reference by our employee Max Fadang.

Scamper: Who?

Laswell: Max Fadang.

Scamper: Don't know him.

Laswell: (holding up photograph) Are you sure?

Scamper: Never seen him before.

Laswell: (leafing through papers) But when I called you yesterday you said you did know him...

Scamper: No I didn't.

Laswell: (looking at application) Yes you did. I wrote it down right here.

Scamper: Lemme see that.

Laswell: Sure. (hands over application)

Scamper: (looking at application) That's not my number.

Laswell: Beg pardon?

Scamper: (handing back application) That's not my phone number.

Laswell: But I just called you at this number yesterday.

Scamper: I don't know. You must've misdialed or something, 'cause that's not my number. My number ain't even close to that.

Laswell: How could I have misdialed and got you when your number isn't even close to this one?

Scamper: I don't know. Maybe you was drunk. Maybe you real shortsighted or something. Don't ask me how you fucked up so bad. I wasn't here. I didn't make you do it.

Laswell: Look, Mr Scamper, I don't appreciate your tone. Clearly this is your number, and clearly you do know Max Fadang, because I called you at this number yesterday and you said you did. So...

Scamper: You never called me.

Laswell: What?

Scamper: You never called me. I don't know what you talking 'bout.

Laswell: But you just agreed that I did call you!

Scamper: No I didn't.

(SNYDER enters stage right, pantomime talking to JANICE)

Laswell: Okay, so if I never called you and asked you to come in, why are you here?

Scamper: I was out shopping downtown, right? An' I was finally done and started walking home, right? When suddenly I had to piss like a motherfucker. At first I tried to just hold it 'til I got home, but shit, it didn't want me to. I mean, I thought my nuts was gonna fuckin' drown, man, I had to go so bad. And there was just no way I was gonna make it home with dry drawers if I didn't stop. So I looked around for like stores or rest'raunts or some ass with a restroom but there wasn't jack around where I was. So this building here was the closest, so I come in and I'm like "You gotta bathroom?" and they like, "That way." So I go that way, and people there are like, "That way." So I go this fuckin' way and that fuckin' way an' then I end up here, man.

Laswell: So why didn't you ask us where it was?

Scamper: I guess I held it so long I don't have to go no more.

Laswell: Well if you do need to go, there's a bathroom connected to the break room, through there. (gestures toward door)

Scamper: (getting up) Well, I'll go try anyhow. (exits left)

(LASWELL gets up and goes to outer office, where SNYDER & JANICE have been talking)

Snyder: How's it going in there?

Laswell: Not well. I've seen people in comas who lie less than he does.

Snyder: So do you think he's hiding something?

Laswell: Probably. He'd have no other reason to lie.

Janice: Maybe he's just a compulsive liar.

Laswell: That's occurred to me, too.

Snyder: Do we need for James to have a word with him?

Laswell: Not yet. Let me make sure he's not going to talk to me, and then if he won't... He's probably coming back soon. I'll talk to you later. (returns to inner office)

Snyder: Keep us informed!

(LASWELL returns to desk and sits. Soon SCAMPER enters stage left)

Laswell: Feel better?

Scamper: Yeah.

Laswell: Good. Now Mr Scamper, now that that's over with, perhaps we can get down to business. Earlier this week our employee Max Fadang seemingly disappeared. We haven't heard anything from him or about him all week. Max was doing some important work for us, so it's very important for us to find out where he is and make sure he's all right. If you were to help us find him, we would be extremely appreciative, and would be sure to compensate you for your assistance.

Scamper: How the fuck'm I s'posed to know where he is when I don't know who he is?

Laswell: Oh, I don't know. Maybe you just heard some friends talking about him. Maybe you just saw him around somewhere in the past few days. (holding up photograph)

Scamper: Nah, I never heard nothin' 'bout nobody. And I told you I never seen him.

Laswell: Fair enough. That's all I have to ask you. I appreciate your coming in to talk to me. (getting up) As a way of saying thanks, why don't you go see my friend James, who can set you up with a little token of our appreciation?

Scamper: (getting up) Yeah. I will.

(they go to the outer office, where SNYDER & JANICE are waiting)

Laswell: Janice, why don't you show Mr Scamper to James' workshop?

Janice: Sure, Chester. (they exit stage right)

Snyder: So no progress?

Laswell: Not with them. If James can't get Mr Not-Me there to talk, there's still one more personal reference left.

Snyder: Remind me again why we're talking to personal references, not to Fadang's next of kin or emergency contact people or anything like that.

Laswell: Next of kin's phone has been disconnected. Don tried dropping by in person, said there were a pile of newspapers at the door. Nobody'd been there for some time, he said.

Snyder: And I suppose the emergency contact number was disconnected, too?

Laswell: No, the recorded operator said that the emergency contact's number was not a valid phone number. Don went to stop by. There is no building with the address given on the application.

Snyder: What do you mean, "There is no building"?

Laswell: There's no building with that address. The application says 2407 La Croix. There's a 2405 La Croix, and a 2411, but no 2407. No sign of any structure that might have been torn down; Don said there wasn't even room to fit another building between those two. He checked the nearby buildings, but no sign of any Clarence Monniker.

Snyder: Why didn't we run a fucking background check before hiring this guy?

Laswell: We did. Credit history, work references, public records; all clean. Everything checked out.

Snyder: Apparently everything did not fucking check out, because his emergency contact person lives in a building that does not exist! We need that damn file back, Laswell. We've worked too hard for too long for everything to get screwed by one rogue employee.

Laswell: So I guess they haven't gotten anywhere with the computer?

Snyder: It's password protected and heavily encrypted. The boys think they're close to cracking the password, but they barely know where to start with the encryption. Apparently it's really high- tech.

Laswell: Well, you told Max to keep everything top secret, to ensure the file's confidentiality.

Snyder: Not from me, dammit!

(JANICE enters stage right)

Laswell: Make it there all right?

Janice: Oh yes. The whole way he was asking about what prize he was going to get. He kept calling it a "parting gift" and a "consolation prize". It was kind of funny. I'm sure he'll be surprised when he finds out what it really is.

Snyder: I'm going to go down and monitor James' progress. I'll be back. Get me that file. (exits stage right)

Laswell: (mimicking SNYDER) Get me the file. Get me the file. Christ, you know we could replace that man with a sign that says "Get me the file" and save the company a sizable amount of money.

Janice: Maybe you should suggest that to the board.

Laswell: No, they'd probably say the same thing. So when's that last reference supposed to be here?

Janice: Five minutes ago.

Laswell: I'll be in my office. Just send him in when he gets here. (returns to inner office. soon GRAGG enters stage right)

Gragg: Hi, I'm Fred Gragg, I have an appointment to talk to a Mr Laswell.

Janice: Right through there, Mr Gragg. He's expecting you.

(GRAGG enters inner office)

Gragg: Hi, I'm Fred Gragg, I have an appointment to see you.

Laswell: (getting up and shaking GRAGG's hand) Hi, thanks for coming in. I'm Chester Laswell. Have a seat. I'll be with you in a second; I just need to get some more coffee. Would you like some?

Gragg: Sure, thanks.

Laswell: How do you take it?

Gragg: White and sweet.

(LASWELL exits stage left, returns shortly with 2 cups of coffee)

Gragg: (taking coffee from Laswell) Thanks.

Laswell: You're welcome. How is it?

Gragg: (taking a large sip) Good.

Laswell: Are you sure? Enough cream and sugar?

Gragg: (taking another drink) Plenty. Almost like I fixed it myself.

Laswell: Great. Now Mr Gragg, as I said on the phone yesterday, I asked you to come in to ask you about one of our employees, Max Fadang. He listed you on his application as a personal reference.

Gragg: Yeah, good old Max.

Laswell: So you do know him?

Gragg: Oh yeah. He lived in my building. He was my partner for the weekly euchre game some of us tenants play.

Laswell: Would you say you know him well?

Gragg: Probably as well as anyone in town.

Laswell: Great. Now as you might know, Max seemingly disappeared a few days ago. We haven't heard anything from him or about him all week. Now Max was doing some rather important work for us, so it's essential that we locate him and make sure he's all right. Do you have any idea where he might be?

Gragg: Well, unless something went wrong, he's probably well on his way to Beirut by now.

Laswell: Why would he be going to Beirut?

Gragg: Well, that's a long story.

Laswell: I have time. Go ahead.

Gragg: I... I don't know where to start. You probably already know a lot of it...

Laswell: Start at the top.

Gragg: Max Fadang wasn't really Max Fadang. Well I mean he was, there wasn't any other Max Fadang he was replacing. But that wasn't his real name.

Laswell: What was his real name?

Gragg: I don't know. He never told me.

Laswell: So why was he using a fake name?

Gragg: He was a spy.

Laswell: A spy? Who was he spying on?

Gragg: A lot of people. Most recently Teleboom Inc.

Laswell: So who was he working for, if he was a spy?

Gragg: Well, his loyalties were with some Lebanese terrorist organization, but they sent him undercover into the Lebanese government, where he got a job with the Lebanese intelligence organization.

Laswell: So he was a double agent?

Gragg: Triple.

Laswell: Triple?! How?

Gragg: Well, the Lebanese have a rather small intelligence operation. So instead of having a large fleet of agents like some other countries, the Lebanese tend to send their agents undercover into other countries' intelligence organizations and get most of their information that way. They sent Max into the CIA.

Laswell: But why didn't the CIA find him out?

Gragg: I don't know. I guess Lebanese spies are just that good.

Laswell: So why was he here at Teleboom?

Gragg: A little less than a year ago the CIA caught word that you were working on developing the device. They sent Max here to ensure it never got completed.

Laswell: The device? And what device is that?

Gragg: The end of the world device.

Laswell: Really? And how would a device like that work?

Gragg: It freezes the Earth's molten core. As the core freezes it expands, effectively shattering the Earth's crust. And if that doesn't kill everyone, the rapidly dropping temperatures will within a few days.

Laswell: How is that possible?

Gragg: I don't know exactly. The device is based on technology acquired from crashed extraterrestrial spacecraft.

Laswell: Crashed UFOs. Okay. Go on. What was Max going to do with the device?

Gragg: His CIA orders were to sabotage the project and bring in everyone involved. Max had other ideas, realizing that this was the ultimate terrorist weapon. Instead he decided to only sabotage your copy of the device, steal the plans and, after convincing the CIA he'd done what they wanted, deliver the plans to Lebanon.

Laswell: So he finally left for Lebanon...

Gragg: This morning. He was supposed to drive to some port city, I don't know which. But he had a busted taillight, so a cop tried to pull him over. He just sped up, and it resulted in a big chase with two cop cars crashing into the median. I saw that on the news this morning.

Laswell: And how would he sabotage this "end of the world device"?

Gragg: He probably just pulled out a few key gears or something. The device itself is useless without the plans, which include the complex directions on how to work it. There were only two copies of these plans, one on paper and one on computer.

(SNYDER enters stage right, pantomimes talking to JANICE)

Laswell: That's a long, implausible story, Mr Gragg. How is it you came across this information?

Gragg: Oh, I just figured it out, really.

Laswell: How did you manage that?

Gragg: It wasn't too hard. I was Max's euchre partner, after all. We usually did some hard drinking during those games, and he would say odd things during a game, like, "Hey, wouldn't it be neat if there was a device that could freeze the Earth's core?" Or he would stub his toe and swear in Lebanese, even though he claimed to be from Iowa. Stuff like that.

Laswell: But if you "just figured it out", how do you know you're right?

Gragg: I called him on it one day. I got him in private and asked flat-out.

Laswell: And he confessed to being a Lebanese terrorist triple agent working on an end of the world device built with alien technology?

Gragg: Well, no. Actually he laughed it off. But a few days later I was visiting him and he had to step out for a minute. I was left alone there, and then I noticed that his briefcase was open. It'd always been closed and locked before. Inside were the plans for the device. I only got to look at them for a minute, but there they were.

Laswell: And he trusted you not to steal them while he was gone?

Gragg: He told me when he got back that the pages were treated with a rare Amazonian poison that contaminates simply by touch. He gave me the antidote when he returned, else I would have been dead within 15 minutes.

Laswell: You're pretty lucky. Here, I have to ask my assistant about something, but I'll be right back. (goes to outer office, where SNYDER & JANICE wait, closing door behind him)

Snyder: So how's the final reference?

Laswell: He knows too much.

Snyder: How much?

Laswell: Everything. The device, the alien technology, everything down to the toxin on the file paper. Fadang's a spy working for the Lebanese. He's on his way to Beirut with the file right now.

Snyder: Fuck!

Janice: How'd you get him to talk?

Laswell: After the trouble with Scamper I didn't want to take any chances of this one lying to me, so I spiked his coffee with sodium penethol. Speaking of Scamper, did he talk?

Janice: He didn't know anything. Right now he's passed out from blood loss.

Snyder: Maybe now he'll learn what it's like to be lied to.

Laswell: So what should I do about Gragg in there?

Snyder: (removing a concealed pistol from its holster in his jacket and handing it to LASWELL) Shut him up.

(LASWELL takes the pistol and returns to his inner office. Once there he points the gun at the back of GRAGG's head. All lights in the theatre go black as the sound of a gunshot is heard)

the end