Skippy's Parents

[don Jaime]

Skippy's Parents, by John Williams (Psycho Fox) and James Reinbold (don Jaime).

SLAPPY: Skippy, dry the plates nice.

SKIPPY: I am, Aunt Slappy!

SLAPPY: Yer supposed to just use the towel. Ya ain't supposed to breathe on them. Last time I had toast, it smelled like a Totally Awesome Acme Snack. I don't ever want that experience again.

SKIPPY: Okay, Aunt Slappy.

(DOORBELL rings)

SLAPPY: Shoot me. Up to my elbows in greasy water and some shmendrick comes along to sell me a vacuum cleaner. Get that while I dry my hands, Skippy.

SKIPPY: Sure, I'm your slave. Want me to pick some cotton while I'm at it?

SLAPPY: Better watch it there, Skippy. You get to soundin' more like me everyday. Some kids got it a lot worse. Now go get the door before I lose a chance to blow up a salesman.

(Skippy trudges to the door, acting like he’s pulling a plow all the way. He opens the door to a short, stocky rufus squirrel in a tweed jacket several sizes too small for him. His eyes widen behind his coke-bottle glasses to see Skippy.)

SKIPMINSTER: So I was right. I always wondered. Now I know.... (Trails off and peers keenly at Skippy, who is not impressed.)

SKIPPY: Yes, you're absolutely right, when you ring the bell somebody answers it. And this is called a door!

SLAPPY: Knock it off, Skippy. Who is this?

SKIPPY: Yes, who are you anyway?

SKIPMINSTER: I...am your father.

SKIPPY: No! That isn't true!

SKIPMINSTER: (Holding out hand) Search your feelings, you know it to be true.

SKIPPY: Noooooooooooooooooooooo!

SLAPPY: Should I know this bit?

SKIPPY: (Breaks off his melodramatics) Nah, it's anything you'd be interested in. Aunt Slappy, is this really my dad?

SKIPMINSTER: It's true, all right, I've got the proof right here. Hello, Miss Squirrel, I don't believe we've been introduced. Skipminster Squirrel, Esquire, attorney-at-law. Thank you for taking care of my son all these years. I don't have much time, as my lunch hour is almost over, so I'll just get whatever Skippy needs and we'll be off to find a daycare. (He reaches for Skippy who bolts and hides behind his aunt.)

SKIPPY: Don't let him take me, Aunt Slappy!

SLAPPY: Relax, kiddo, ya ain't goin' nowhere. Ya said ya got proof?

SKIPMINSTER: I have the birth certificate right here.

SLAPPY: (Ignores it.) Well, that's real nice, but it won't tell me where ya been all this time.

SKIPMINSTER: I don't have tell you anything. All you need to know is written right here, Baby Boy Skippy Squirrel, born February 29 to mother Slippery Squirrel and father Skipminster Squirrel. His mother's back in prison, so that means, according to the California Penal Code-

SLAPPY: Which a shmuck like you ought to know about.

SKIPMINSTER: -- the California Penal Code, Article 36, Section H, Paragraph 7, and I quote: Whereas any one parent of a minor shall be confined to the slammer, the other parent of said minor shall have custody, provided said other parent of said minor is not said to be unfit by a court of law, that said, said other parent of said minor, gets 'em. I'm here. He's mine. We're going.

SLAPPY: Oh, yeah? According to the law, Article 845, Section YY, Paragraph 68, and I quote: Everything that you just said is completely wrong. On top of which, you forgot the old sayin':Thoity days hath January, March, April, and May, all the rest have thoity-one, except February, which is all mucked up. My calendar don’t say nothing past February 28. Now take a hike, ya stupid grabby yutz!

SKIPMINSTER: (Stares blankly for a moment) Article 845, Section YY, Paragraph 68 says you're not allowed to stick gum in a public place.

SLAPPY: Oh, I'm sorry. You've been stuck here way too long. This should take care of it. (Hands Skipminster a bomb.) Now, buh-bye. (Slams the door to block the force of the explosion. The blast rattles the house.)

SKIPPY: Aunt Slappy, is he really...?

SLAPPY: Just a minute, I don't think he's finished. (She opens the door to the furious singed lawyer.)

SKIPMINSTER: You'll be hearing from me about that. And you left out the end of the poem, 'except in leap year, twenty-nine!' Completely slipped my mind for a moment Skippy was born in a leap year.

SLAPPY: (Innocently) Mmm-hmmm. Which one?

SKIPMINSTER: Nineteen- (watches in disgust as the birth certificate crumbles to ash.) Knew I should have brought a spare. If you'll excuse me-

SLAPPY: There's no excuse for ya.
SKIPMINSTER: -I'll be back soon. (He leaves without even waving good-bye to Skippy.)

SKIPPY: Aunt Slappy.

SLAPPY: I'll be honest, kid, I don't know. We'll have to find yer birth certificate.

SKIPPY: But what about the one he-

SLAPPY: If it came from yer mother, ya know how much it's woith.

SKIPPY: It ain't worth the paper it's printed on. (sighs) Where do we start looking?

SLAPPY: With yer mother. If anybody knows, it'd be her. Pack a bag, Skippy, we're goin' to San Bernardino.

SKIPPY: All right, we're going to see Mom! I'll go pack...um, Aunt Slappy?

SLAPPY: What?

SKIPPY: Neither of us wear clothes.

SLAPPY: Then forget the bag, let's just go, already.

SKIPPY: Hooray! Mom can fix everything. Just wait.

SLAPPY: She better be able to.

[don Jaime]

(The California State Correctional Facility for Rats, Mice, and Other Small Rodents in San Bernardino.)

SLAPPY: Don't be too sure she can help much. You know how prison is. Kind of restrictive.

SKIPPY: It's okay, Aunt Slappy. That guy can't be my dad. Mom can prove it, she has to have my birth certificate. (Pauses.) How come you don't know who my dad is, Aunt Slappy?

SLAPPY: Yer mom never told me. I've asked her often enough, just like you, but every time I just get 'He's a no-account rat who'll take off with Skippy just to be rotten, the runty little twerp!' And then she spits. So the only thing I've ever known is that he's short and evil. Ya gotta admit, when a convicted bunko artist tells ya someone's a greaseball, it carries a little weight.

SKIPPY: You still know more than I do. All Mom ever tells me is 'Oh, you might as well forget about him. Pretend he's dead, why dontcha?'

(Slippery Squirrel, a slim gray squirrel in prison blues, is led into the visiting room.)

SLIPPERY: Well, why dontcha? He's dead to me.

SKIPPY: Mom! (Hugs her.)

SLIPPERY: Eh, how ya doin', Sonny? Ya ain't givin' yer great-aunt too many ulcers, are ya? (He shakes his head no.) I should be gettin' out again soon, and this time I can make the parole stick. Ya know I've givin' up the con game-

SLAPPY: '-but I just can't help havin' a lead foot.' I know, Slippery, I got the same problem with speedin'. But at least I don't have a parole officer to yank me back to jail every time I get a ticket.

SLIPPERY: Sounds like I'm in trouble.

SLAPPY: Ya don't say. Listen, Slippery, we gotta know, once and for all, just who is Skippy's father? It wouldn’t be some temperamental yutz named Skipminster Squirrel, Esquire, attorney-at-law, would it?

SLIPPERY: Eh, heh-heh, yeah, you’ve met yer ol’ Dad, that’s for sure. (Skippy moans in horror.) Oh, buck up, maybe he ain't as bad as I remember. Sorry I didn't tell ya before. I always figured if you and him met, he'd take ya, and then me and yer Great-Aunt Slappy wouldn't see ya anymore.

SKIPPY: He might could do that?

SLIPPERY: You got it. Don't let him fool ya. Skipminster may have the looks of moldy bread and an IQ to match, but he knows the law backwards and forwards. Once he gets his little legal maneuvers set, there, you'll never get him stopped.

SKIPPY: What happened between you two, Mom?

SLIPPERY: Well, I sat on yer father's lap and pretended to read the newspaper- (Slappy coughs) We met the next to the last time I was arrested for the con game. I couldn't afford a lawyer, so the judge gave me one, Skipminster Squirrel, Esquire. Like a fool, I thought he was mine to keep. He was a shyster, but he got me off. Said he liked me, wanted to help me clear my record. And he was homely, and a little mean-spirited, but I kinda liked him too, so I agreed. He had a lot of chutzpah. I like that in a man. So he cleared my record and gave me the bill. Like I said, a lot of chutzpah. I paid him the only way I knew how.

SLAPPY: Slippery. You didn't write a lawyer a hot check, did ya? (She nods.) Oy, of all the things ya could have done....

SLIPPERY: It was the dumbest, I'll have to admit. I thought he’d find it funny. Kinda what convinced me to give up the con game. Skipminster went from writin' gushy mashnotes to writin' nasty legal briefs in about five seconds. And after he got me convicted on fraud charges, I found out about Skippy. I figured, he put me in jail, he don’t deserve to have a kid. Maybe I was wrong. Sure, he sent his own wife to the hoosegow, but otherwise, he seemed
like a nice person.

(Skipminster enters from the cell area.)

SKIPMINSTER: (To someone in the back.) Good luck with the governor! I'm sure he'll let you off before midnight.

SLIPPERY: Or not.

SKIPMINSTER: Ah, hello, Slappy Squirrel, hello! I was hoping I would run into you here. In jail. I'm sure you remember me. I'm the father of your great-nephew, the one you blew up on your front porch this morning. Even you must have intelligence enough not to smuggle explosives into a prison. I've got Skippy's birth certificate right here. You ready to go, Skippy? I need a dependent if I’m ever audited. Good thing my accountant reminded me of that, or I might never have found you.

SLAPPY: You can't-

SLIPPERY: He can. That's why I never told you, because you might have told him. Legally, I can't stop him. He knows the law too well. Mom’s in jail? Dad’s in charge.

SKIPMINSTER: Well, you shouldn't have written me a hot check.

SLIPPERY: Well, you shouldn't have sent a bill to your own wife!

SKIPMINSTER: Well, you shouldn't have built a record! (Slippery fumes.) I love winning arguments. It’s the best thing about being a lawyer. C'mon, kid, I'm late enough as it is, and Daddy needs a new tax shelter. (Skippy turns wordlessly from father to mother, and then to his aunt.)

SLAPPY: We'll figure something out. Go with your father. (Skipminster takes Skippy's hand and tries to walk away, jerking his arm out of socket when Skippy doesn’t not follow him. Slappy and Slippery walk the boy to the door and watch as it he leaves with Skipminster.)

SLIPPERY: I knew this would happen. I don’t know, maybe this will work out for the best. Skipminster comes across as the overprotective type.

SLAPPY: This ain't my idea of a happy ending. We’re not through yet. I think I've got a plan or two that just might work.

[don Jaime]

(Skipminster’s red Italian sports car, running a little rich.)

SKIPMINSTER: Rotten car. Pay your weight in diamond dust and you get a hunk of Eyetalian junk that backfires worse than a Jim Carrey movie. My ears are still ringing. Is anyone in my blind spot, um, Skippy? That's right, your name is Skippy, isn't it? (Skippy manages to sob and howl at the same time, and through his tears sees his father do that rarest of feats, the octuple take.) Sorry. That joke backfired, too. But I'm not too bad a guy, right? (Skippy scrunches into the seat and glares at him.) Yes, I know, I put your mother back in the clink. It's for her own good. You really don't know her. (Skippy rolls his eyes.) Well, all right, you know her. But you don't know me. Right now you must think I'm pretty evil. (For the first time, Skippy smiles at his father.)

SKIPPY: I don't think that.

SKIPMINSTER: Good!

SKIPPY: I know it. (Skipminster makes a face.) You're nasty, evil, rotten, vicious, and mean. That's what you are.

SKIPMINSTER: A professional arguer, and I’m being trumped by an eight-year-old. Tell you what. I'll cancel my appointments and we can get to know each other. (He almost gives Skippy a jovial punch on the shoulder, but Skippy's glare suggests he might counter with an un-jovial sock in the jaw.) Let me just call my secretary. (Deliberately setting himself up.) Nice phone, huh? It's supposed to cause brain cancer....

SKIPPY: Not a problem for you.

SKIPMINSTER: Heh-heh! Yeah, good one! Been around that aunt of yours too long.... Hello, Miss Squirrel, it’s me. Cancel my appointments for today. That's right, all of them. Mr. Squirrel and Mr. Squirrel and Mrs. Squirrel and Mr. Squirrel. Oh, and don't forget Miss Squirrel. (Sighs.) We've really got to find more family names in this community. (Skippy ignores him.) Who? No, I don't want to speak with her! I don't care if she is his great-aunt,
she's not my client! I don't have to deal with her if I don't want to. Oh, all right, if it's that important. Skippy, do you have your aunt's purse? She's lost it. (Skippy shakes his head.) He doesn't. She must have left it at...no, the guards would have made her take it with her, not leave it behind. I don't know. It's not my problem. Goodbye, Miss Squirrel. (Hangs up.) Your aunt is strange.

SKIPPY: She is not! She's the nicest person in the whole world! She's the biggest cartoon star, and the biggest demolition expert, and the bestest aunt! She takes good care of me.

SKIPMINSTER: Well, I'll take better care of you, and I'm nicer, and I was a bigger star in my day than that old has-been, even if my day lasted only an hour and twelve minutes. You're probably right about the demolition business, though.

SKIPPY: I never heard of you, and I watch all the old cartoons.

SKIPMINSTER: Well, it really wasn't much. A couple of bit roles. I had to switch to the legal side of the business before too long.

SKIPPY: Why?

SKIPMINSTER: (Grits his teeth.) I got blacklisted. Just because I have fur the color of borscht, they thought I was a Commie. I had to learn to be a legal eagle fast, and by the time I was done, I was the best entertainment lawyer in the business, and still everyone in town was convinced I was a Bolshevik. Had to become a supercapitalist to convince anyone I wasn't.

SKIPPY: What convinced them in the first place? Besides your being evil.

SKIPMINSTER: Since I got ipso factoed right into the Party, I had to name somebody to avoid prosecution. Wanted that about as much as a root canal, but I did it. And there’s still no jailtime on your father’s side of the family.

SKIPPY: Who'd you name?

SKIPMINSTER: (Tightens up.) Let's not talk about that, all right?

SKIPPY: So how'd you get chosen as Mom's lawyer, if you're a contract negotiator?

SKIPMINSTER: Where did you learn so much about entertainment legal matters all of a sudden?

SKIPPY: My Aunt Slappy. Don't change the subject.

SKIPMINSTER: I asked for the assignment.

SKIPPY: Why? You didn't know Mom.

SKIPMINSTER: Well, we had, but I don't think she remembers it. This was back when she was trying to break into show business. She was very young and pretty. I hated her guts. She beat me out for a bit part in 'I Just Flew In From Cleveland And, Boy, Does My Butt Itch!' That was supposed to be my walk-on. (Fumes for a second.) Still, she was worth remembering.

SKIPPY: I saw that once. She was good in it. I never did understand why she stopped working in cartoons and...oh. You said she was a...a...what was that, again?

SKIPMINSTER: Let's not talk about it, okay?

SKIPPY: A Commie? And she was blacklisted, just like you. And then when you saw her years later...

SKIPMINSTER: I said, let's not talk about it, okay?

SKIPPY: You felt guilty for ruining Mom's life, and asked to help her. That's the whole truth, isn't it?

SKIPMINSTER: (Pulls up and stops the car.) Home at last! I'm going to check the back, make sure it didn't fall off or something. (Behind the car Skipminster bangs his head into the trunklid.) Stupid, stupid, stupid! I cannot believe I let that slip. (The trunk lid opens and Slippery climbs out.)

SLIPPERY: Yer dern tootin’ I gave them the slip! Nice to see you two again. (Skippy and Skipminster stare dumbly at Slippery, then Skippy rushes for a hug. Skipminster blanches so hard the red drains from his fur, leaving only the brown tinge Skippy inherited.)

[don Jaime]

SKIPMINSTER: How did you get out?

SLIPPERY: Eh, stole my aunt's handbag.

SKIPMINSTER: Your aunt took explosives into a prison?

SLIPPERY: Not dynamite or anything like that, but when she was cleaning it out, she forgot her little stash of plastic explosives. She needs to get rid of all these used snotrags, too. 'Course, I had to improvise a detonator, but I already had an electric fence, so I just poured cold coffee between them to make the connection, and, boom! Exit, stage left even, as they say in the trade.

SKIPPY: You're going to be in all kinds of trouble, Mom. Aunt Slappy has a fit whenever I touch her purse.

SKIPMINSTER: You can't stay, Slippery. It's time to go back to your nice cell, and maybe they'll add some padding for you.

SKIPPY: Once I was looking for a pen so I could sign Aunt Slappy's name to a note I got in school, and couldn't find one, so I went looking in her purse. I thought she might have a pen in it.

SLIPPERY: And maybe you can share it with me, after I tell the I.R.S. what a nervous Nelly you are about audits.

SKIPMINSTER: You wouldn't.

SLIPPERY: I would.

SKIPPY: I did, but it was out of ink.

SKIPMINSTER: I can beat the government, it's not like I haven't done it before. I know all the rules. I just can't add.

SKIPPY: And Aunt Slappy caught me at it, and she went ballistic!

SLIPPERY: Doesn't matter. You'll be staying with me until you can explain to Uncle Sam why a high-dollar attorney can't afford a calculator when he saved so much on his taxes.

SKIPPY: And she said little boys had no business snooping in old ladies' purses, and to put the pen back.

SKIPMINSTER: I think they'll be more interested in how to improvise a detonator.

SKIPPY: Would you two stop arguing and listen to me?!

SKIPMINSTER: We’ve BEEN listening!

SLIPPERY: Why would Aunt Slappy keep a dry pen?

SKIPPY: I dunno. It's not like it's pretty. It's yellow, and has Disney pictures on it. Sometimes she holds it over her head and laughs at it.

SLIPPERY: (Digs in the purse.) What, this one? Yellow's a nice color. Oh, it’s Chip ‘n’ Dale, dancing. This is a keeper. (Pockets it and clears her throat.) Your aunt's right, Skippy, you should stay out of her purse. Now let's go inside, and I'll explain life to your father some more.

SKIPMINSTER: You're not going in my house. I'm not hiding you for five seconds. You're going to get in a nice panda car and leave. There's no way you can blackmail me with the taxman.

SKIPPY: (Musingly.) Funny you should say that. Didn't you say you blackmailed Mom?

SLIPPERY: What? When was this?

SKIPMINSTER: (Chortles nervously.) Oh, nothing you'd be interested in, dearie. (Slippery and Skippy stare him down.) Want to come inside? I can make cocoa.

SLIPPERY: Yes, and you better hurry up and unlock the door. I can see Aunt Slappy's Dodge coming up the street right now.

[don Jaime]

SKIPMINSTER: Why, Slippery, do you think your aunt would care to discuss this problem about her purse over our cocoa? Or was I supposed to fold up like a road map when you threatened me with an audit? (Slippery scratches her head, and tries to think of a comeback.)

SKIPPY: (Tugs at her prison blues.) It's okay, Mom, I can take care of him. He's not the boss of us. Go back before they get really mad at you. (Slippery smiles at her son’s attempt to defend her and himself.) He told me about the blackmail. He has to do whatever I tell him now.

SLIPPERY: What blackmail?

SKIPPY: You know, when you couldn't work anymore?

SLIPPERY: You mean 'blacklist?'

SKIPPY: That's it! He was telling me....

SKIPMINSTER: Lots of funny stories! Here's the keys, dearie. Get in the house, pleeease?

(Confused, Slippery takes them and wanders up the steps. Slappy pulls up in her classic Dodge to find Skipminster Squirrel alone in his front yard, absently cleaning his thick glasses, as if this would somehow remove the glazed look in his eyes. She hops out without bothering to use the door and pompously switches on the alarm to show her disdain
for Skipminster’s neighborhood.)

SLAPPY: You wouldn't take my call, so I thought I'd drop by here and see if you were in. Didn't think I'd find you alone.

SKIPMINSTER: Oh, I'm alone all right! Wait, you mean Skippy. He's inside, he likes it here, he's, wait, no, he's...enjoying the different kinds of butter. Nut butters. Smooth peanut butter, chunky peanut butter, walnut butter, almond butter, macadamia nut butter, ay, macadamia! (Giggles nervously.)

SLAPPY: So, it's a regular Michelin three-star you got goin' on here. That's nice, real nice. He ain't lonely, is he?

SKIPMINSTER: No, of course not! Why should he be? (Swallows hard to calm down.) I'm here, and, well, there's nobody else here but me. Shouldn't be anybody here but me. And Skippy. And you're welcome, too, of course. But not right now. The place is a mess. You know how boys are.

SLAPPY: Mmm-hmm. You may not be alone for long.

SKIPMINSTER: (Feigning stupidity, and doing a good job of it.) Oh? And why is that?

SLAPPY: Slippery busted outta prison not too long after I left. I think she snitched my purse and used it to get out. Thought I had emptied out all my munitions, but I musta missed somethin'. You sure you ain't got it?

SKIPMINSTER: Oh, quite, quite sure! I'm a man, and Skippy's a boy, and we really wouldn't be interested in a lady's purse.

SLAPPY: Skippy likes ta rummage through there sometimes.

SKIPMINSTER: Well, you know what boys are like.

SLAPPY: Mmm-hmm. Can I see him?

SKIPMINSTER: Not tonight. He's very messy. Sticky, really. Tomorrow, I'll drop him off. You can visit.

SLAPPY: Eh, I'm kinda busy tomorrow. Been deputized. (Opens her hand and shows him a badge.) I've joined the search for Slippery. I don't want to see her get hurt, runnin' around the countryside, there. And I want my purse back, too. Thought she mighta come here to see you and Skippy.

SKIPMINSTER: Nope! Not here. Positive on the negative. Big negatory. No sign of her around these parts.

SLAPPY: Eh, for the luva...you will keep an eye open for her, right? (Skipminster's eyes widen behind his glasses until they look normal in size, and he nods his head vigorously.) Well, I'll be off then. Unless you're sure Skippy....

SKIPMINSTER: Oh, yes, he's very dirty, absolutely filthy. I have to go give him a bath. Now.

SLAPPY: Well, I'll check with you later. And keep an eye out for my niece, ya got that?

SKIPMINSTER: Oh, yes, I've got that, oh, boy, have I got that. Got it. Gotta do something about this.

(By now the Dodge is a distant red speck. Skipminster charges up the steps, grabs the doorknob, and slams himself face-first into the locked door. He massages his teeth for a second, then pounds on the door.)

SLIPPERY: (Inside.) Who is it?

SKIPMINSTER: It's ME. Open up!

SLIPPERY: (Inside.) Sorry, I'm busy! It's time for 'MacGyver' reruns!

(Skipminster bashes the door futilely for a few minutes before Skippy opens it.)

SKIPPY: (Imitating Slappy.) Eh, whatever yer selling, we don't want any! Now git outta here before I lob a pineapple at ya!

SKIPMINSTER: Get out of the way, and please don't remind me of her. (Pushes past to find Slippery decked out on the couch, her prison blue cap askew, and the coat traded for one of Skipminster's yellow ones. She’s flipping through the channels absently and trying to pick her teeth with a pretzel stick.)

SLIPPERY: Eh, what happened here? Did they get rid of "MacGyver?" All I can find is those Olsen kids and that Urkel kid! P.U.!

SKIPPY: (Helpfully) Speeew!

SKIPMINSTER: (Switches TV off.) Why are you wearing that jacket? You've already used up enough of my charity, and I was planning to give that to the Goodwill.

SLIPPERY: What, more tax write-offs? You are slow. This color suits me better than blue. I'm a winter, you see. Kept the cap for luck, though. Kinda odd you want to get rid of something yellow for your back, there, Skipminster. It’d hide the stripe. Or is red more your color? As near as I can figure out from what our boy tells me, you're the one who called me a Communist and cost me my legit career. Funny, I never had you pegged for a Commie rat. I just thought you were a rat.

SKIPMINSTER: Much as I'd like to ask you to stay and make unpleasant conversation, I really must ask you to leave. Escaped criminals are a bad influence for a growing boy.

SLIPPERY: And what, pray tell, are you? You told the government I was a Communist, and I wasn't. Then you cheat on your taxes. I thought I was daft for lying to one lawyer, but you told two whoppers to hundreds of 'em! Tell me, what does that make you?

SKIPMINSTER: (Desperate.) But I didn’t cheat on my taxes, and I haven't escaped from prison....

SLIPPERY: No, you just hid an escaped criminal. That's aiding and abetting. Good thing my aunt doesn't work for the fuzz, or that would have been your third lie. (Skipminster slaps his forehead in disgust, and Skippy almost asks him if he could have had a V-8, but thinks better of it.)

SKIPMINSTER: This isn't my fault. No one can blame me. It's yours, for breaking out of jail!

SLIPPERY: Well, you shouldn't have put me in jail!

SKIPMINSTER: Well, you shouldn't have written me a hot check!

SLIPPERY: Well, you shouldn't have sent a bill to your own wife!

SKIPMINSTER: Well, you shouldn't have built a record!

SLIPPERY: Well, you shouldn't have ruined my career and forced me into a life of crime! Ha! I finally get to win this argument!

SKIPPY: Would you both STOP! All you do is fight! It never ends! I HATE it! If you weren't mean to each other all the time, we could have had a normal life! I'm going to my room until you both decide to get along with each other. (Storms up the stairs, and before he slams the door, stops to hear:)

SKIPMINSTER: He's supposed to have a whole room?! I was just going to put him on the couch!

[don Jaime]

(A few hours later. Slippery and Skipminster carry Skippy, still asleep, downstairs and set him on the couch between them.)

SKIPMINSTER: Does he always sleep this hard?

SLIPPERY: He didn’t last time I saw him.

(They make wry faces, and gently shake Skippy.)

SKIPPY: (Comes awake suddenly.) I wasn’t asleep, Mrs. Monk, honest! Oh. Time for Round Two.

SLIPPERY: Now, Sonny, we’ve got a little announcement for you.

SKIPMINSTER: We’ve called a truce. No more arguing, and neither of us blows the whistle on the other.

SKIPPY: For how long?

SLIPPERY: We don’t know. A while. Even if your father could put up with me here till you retire, I’d get tired of being inside all the time. What’s the point of getting out of stir if you can’t improve your tan? So, we’ll wait a few days and decide what happens next then.

SKIPPY: Like, where do I go?

SKIPMINSTER: Bingo. Until then, (Crosses heart.) nothing but peace and quiet. (Doorbell rings.) So long as I can ditch the aunt without her figuring out your mother’s here.

SLIPPERY: How do you know it’s her?

SKIPMINSTER: Everyone else I know would look for me at work or in court, and I’ve put up a sign that says “No Soliciting.” Haven’t had a salesman ignore it yet. (Opens the door to an elderly SALESLADY squirrel.) Saleswomen, on the other hand....

SALESLADY: Hi, there! Wanna buy some encyclopedias?

SKIPMINSTER: (Points to the “NO SOLICITORS” sign on the door.) No! Can’t you read the sign?

SALESLADY: No, I just sell these things, I can’t read them. Of course I can read. I thought that English people lived here and it meant no lawyers.

SKIPMINSTER: Hardly. Goodbye.

SALESLADY: No, wait. How about the latest high-tech greaseless, odorless, tasteless, cleaning product from Germany? Guaranteed to take out a stain with just a little rubbing. It’s called “Vasser!”

SKIPMINSTER: That’s the German word for water.

SALESLADY: No wonder it’s greaseless, odorless, and tasteless. How about some Amway, there? Or Avon?

SLIPPERY: We’ve already had a little make-up.

SALESLADY: Leave the bad puns to a professional. I know, how about a copy of “Watertower Magazine?”

SKIPPY: (Shoves Skipminster out of the way.) Here, let me show you how it’s done. We don’t want any! (Throws a bomb and slams the door. The explosion blows the door back open, and the charred saleslady disguise falls away to reveal Slappy Squirrel.)

SLAPPY: Toot, toot! (Passes out.)

SKIPPY: (Horrified.) Oh, NO! It’s NOT a giant chicken! Aunt Slappy, wake up!

SKIPMINSTER: (Pats Skippy’s head.) Yes, you got her good! That’s my boy.

SLIPPERY: No, it’s bad. She joined the force to catch me, remember? Now we’ve assaulted a police officer.

SKIPMINSTER: What do we do now? She knows you’re here!

SLIPPERY: (Loudly.) Oh, dear. We’re caught. We should give up and turn ourselves in.

SKIPMINSTER: The heck we do! Get in the car.

SLIPPERY: We’re going to run?

SKIPMINSTER: All the way to Mexico. I ain’t giving my kid up. C’mon! (He snatches Skippy by the hand and pulls him along. Slippery, confused, follows.)

SLIPPERY: We can’t go to Mexico. I don’t have an escape route planned. (Skipminster is horrified. Slippery avoids looking him in the eye.)

SKIPMINSTER: No escape route? Didn’t you plan this?

SLIPPERY: Yes, but...not like that.

SKIPPY: I’ve got an escape route! I thought it up in case Mom broke out and came to get me. What’s the last place the cops would expect you to go?

SLIPPERY: The police station?

SKIPPY: Right! They’ll NEVER look for you there!

SKIPMINSTER: I’ve got a better idea.

SLIPPERY: Point the car south and drive?

SKIPMINSTER: You read my mind. I just hope we can beat rush hour traffic. The last thing we need is to get stuck and run out of gas. (They roar off.)

SLAPPY: Dearie?

[don Jaime]

(Sunset, Long Beach, near the marina. Skipminster, Slippery, and Skippy are stuck in traffic. The car splutters and dies.)

SKIPMINSTER: Out of gas. Five minutes sooner and we could have made Mexico.

SKIPPY: I hear helicopters.

SKIPMINSTER: (Softly.) Yipe.

SLIPPERY: Those are Channels 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, and 13, taking pictures of the traffic jam.

SKIPMINSTER: Gotta think, gotta think, gotta think!

SKIPPY: Channel 13’s PBS, they can’t afford a helicopter.

SLIPPERY: You’re right. (Peers out to sea.) How ‘bout we sail to Mexico?

SKIPMINSTER: We can walk to a gas station and get gas.

SLIPPERY: Or we could sail.

SKIPMINSTER: We can catch the bus to the airport and fly.

SLIPPERY: There’s always sailing.

SKIPMINSTER: We can take a bus straight to Mexico.

SLIPPERY: What’s wrong with a boat?

SKIPMINSTER: The police will be watching.

SLIPPERY: And not hitchhikers or bus stations or the airport? Or the border crossing, for that matter? C’mon, let’s put to sea. (She gets out, and Skippy, after a brief moment of confusion, follows her.)

SKIPMINSTER: What about the car?

SLIPPERY: Just leave it. None of these other cars are moving.

SKIPMINSTER: I’m going to regret this. (He gets out, locks the car, and sets the alarm out of habit. He follows Slippery and Skippy down to what appears to be a tuna seiner redressed as a cruise liner. The only person visible on board is an older female squirrel who lazily watches the crowds go by when she spots Skippy and his parents; she puts on a captain’s hat with a daisy sticking out of it and ambles down the gangplank.)

CAPTAIN: Step up, step up, there! Come aboard and shiver me timbers, or somethin’, and take the romantic pleasure cruise o’ yer dreams. Tia Juana, Matamoroose, Cabo de Cabo de Cabos, Guadalajelovital, and all pernts south! See Mexico, before it sees you first. Step up for a free trial run aboard the newly renovated “Sea Chicken” - the Ship of Love. Try our all you can eat tuna buffet!

SLIPPERY: Free sounds good. Let’s try that.

SKIPMINSTER: Forget that. The only reason I’d dignify that relic with the name of “tub” is that it holds plenty of water. And that captain looks like her last job was on the Ark.

SKIPPY: Ahem. You both said no fighting. You have to agree with mom, that’s the one we’ll try.

SKIPMINSTER: How do I get roped into these things? Fine, we’ll sail in the S. S. “Rust Bucket,” but don’t blame me when it sinks.

(They board the “Sea Chicken”.)

CAPTAIN: Proud to meet ya! I’m Captain Slapshot. Looks like we have a second honeymoon for the young parents here.

SKIPMINSTER: Oh, no, we’re not married. (Slapshot eyes Skippy.) Anymore. We’re divorced now. Just thought the boy could use some sea air.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: So you’re unattached? You’ll be in a separate room, I hope?

SKIPMINSTER: No, we’re sharing, aren’t we dearie? (Puts his arm around Slippery, who pulls away.)

SLIPPERY: Don’t you dearie me.

SKIPPY: Uh-uh-uh! Remember the truce, Mom.

SLIPPERY: Thanks a lot, Sonny. C’mon, the Captain’s going to show us our free room.

(A crowd of pushy TOURISTS cut in front of them.)

FAT MAN IN BERMUDA SHORTS: We want to sail for free, too!

TALL WOMAN IN BAD HAT: I’ve always wanted a free lunch.

WHINY KID: Yeah, we wanna go!

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: You sure? We got her on board.

KATHIE LEE GIFFORD: (Singing) If my friends saw me now, they’d run away from me! Trying to escape from my insanity! (The whiny kid screams and dives off the dock.)

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: So much fer the most popular cruise line in the world. One saccharine-sweet kid is enough. (Ruffles Skippy’s hair, who doesn’t like it.) Now get lost, little miss semi-quaver! Yer givin’ me a headache. (Pushes Gifford off the dock. The kid rockets out of the water when Gifford hits, turns in midair, and
flees down the pier, parents in half-hearted pursuit.)

SKIPMINSTER: Oh, goody. When we set out to hire a boat, I didn’t think it’d be this dinghy.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Eh, I’ll bet you say that to all the gulls! I love nautical puns. Let me take you to your state room.

SLIPPERY: See, what’d I tell ya? We’re sailing.

SKIPMINSTER: Looks more like we’re drowning.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Yes - in love.

SKIPPY: I’m seasick.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: You can’t be, we’re still tied up at the ramp.

SLIPPERY: The pier.

SKIPMINSTER: Or quay.

SKIPPY: Or dock.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Yeah, any of those. C’mon. (She leads them on board, past fishing nets and a suprisingly large hold for an ocean liner.) This charming young man and his ex-wife and kid have the last stateroom booked, so you lot will have to stay in steerage class.

UGLY SUNBURNED WOMAN: Like the movie “Titanic?”

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Exactly like that. You’ll feel like you’ve been in there forever.

UGLY SUNBURN: Oh, goodie! A Leonardo DiCaprio type is on board!

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: (Looking at Skipminster.) And I already claimed him.

UGLY SUNBURN: How do we get down there?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: It’s an old Navy tradition to jump through the door on your first day aboard.

UGLY SUNBURN: We’re not in the Navy.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Who asked you? I’m settin’ atmosphere here. Okay, everybody jump! (They do. A series of dull “whams” as the tourists hit. Slapshot chuckles and takes the Squirrel family into the diminutive first class, which strongly resembles a broom closet.) Here’s your stateroom!

SKIPMINSTER: And the state in question is Rhode Island.

SKIPPY: Where’s Dot? This is where she comes in talking about the Marx Brothers and stuff.

SKIPMINSTER: Dot who?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Forget her. Concentrate on me. You sure you don’t want to split up? I can always make room in my stateroom. I mean, cabin.

SKIPMINSTER: Positive. (To Slippery.) If that’s all right with you?

SLIPPERY: (Looking at Skippy.) I don’t think I have much choice in the matter.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Then I’ll leave you alone until supper. You’ll be eating at my table tonight.

SKIPMINSTER: That’s not necessary.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: It is if you don’t want to eat standing up. We’ve only got the one table.

SLIPPERY: Fine. We’ll see you at eight bells, then.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: We only got one of those, too. Catch you later! (Exits, and after the three squirrels jockey in the tiny room, closes the door behind her.)

SKIPPY: Now what do we do?

SLIPPERY: Let’s unpack. (Skipminster takes out his handkerchief and lays it on the floor like a rug. Slippery sets Slappy’s purse on top of it.) We’re unpacked! (She and Skipminster laugh. Skippy is only confused.)

[don Jaime]

(The dining room of the “Sea Chicken,” no frills. Aluminum chairs at a small table, a buffet in one corner, a minibar, with bartender, and a jukebox in another. The grotesque passengers are eating and complaining to Captain Slapshot, seated alone.)

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Well, I though you were asking me if I shuffle when I’m bored. And I do. You should be glad we have “Kick the Can.” (Slippery, Skipminster, and Skippy enter. Slapshot coughs and sneezes violently without covering her mouth, and the other passengers try to get away from her.) Welcome to the captain’s table! The buffet’s over there. Sure hope you like tonight’s menu. We’re having tuna salad, tuna croquettes, and tuna casserole, and that’s just for starters. After that we got braised albacore -

ALBERT GORE: (Popping up.) Yes?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Y’know, you remind me of a young Clutch Cargo. (Gore just blinks.) Tell you what, plank boy, why don’t you go walk yourself. (Gore nods and exits. A splash is heard outside.) That was pointless. We’ve also got yellowfin sushi -

SKIPPY: Speeeeew!

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: And another catchphrase outta the way. We got the albacore, we got the yellowfin, what am I leavin’ out?

SKIPMINSTER: The tuna?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: That’s it! Tuna au gratin, tuna kebabs, cream of tuna soup, and tuna surprise.

SKIPPY: What’s that?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT, SLIPPERY, and SKIPMINSTER: It’s a surprise!

SLIPPERY: Yeah, there’s no tuna in it. (Skipminster snorts.)

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: And for dessert -

SKIPMINSTER: Here comes more tuna.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Not this time, loverboy. I was thinking meringues for the young man and his lovely mother, and something different for you. Something special. The Popeye special.

SKIPMINSTER: I don’t like spinach.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Not that. Remember how the song goes?

SKIPMINSTER: You mean yams? I don’t like those, either.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: No, not the correct version. “He likes to go swimmin’....”

(Skipminster hiccups.)

SKIPPY: Blecch!

SLIPPERY: I’m guessing the something special turned your stomach?

SKIPPY: No, the meringues. But that other doesn’t sound good neither.

SLIPPERY: Sound good either. You still have to speak grammatical, Sonny.

SKIPMINSTER: Grammatically.

SLIPPERY: Whatever.

SKIPMINSTER: Oh, then you’re saying yes?

SLIPPERY: (Confused) I am?

SKIPMINSTER: Pardon me, Captain Slapshot, but I have a dancing engagement. I’ll have to turn you down on your, um, interesting offer. Some other time, perhaps. Or not. As the case may be.

FAT MAN IN BERMUDA SHORTS: (Butting in.) We can’t dance.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Please, no Phil Collins.

BERMUDA SHORTS: What I mean is, there’s no music. We need an orchestra.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: (Pointing to the corner near the bar.) Gee, Dad, it’s a Wurlitzer. Feed it a quarter, wouldya?

BERMUDA SHORTS: I thought everything was free.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: So read the fine print next time.

BERMUDA SHORTS: I didn’t see any fine print.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Ya might also want to remember yer glasses.

BERMUDA SHORTS: I have contacts.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: I’d get a new prescription.

BERMUDA SHORTS: But I’m an optometrist.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: (To the family.) Excuse me. Nautical issues. Step outside, sir, and I’ll show you the fine print. It’s stenciled on the wall of the ship.

BERMUDA SHORTS: The bulkhead?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Yeah, that’s it. I knew there was a name for it. This way, sir. While we’re at it, d’ya mind tellin’ me which way’s port, and which way’s starboard? (Door closes behind them, and then a large explosion. Slapshot returns alone.) Too bad. I told him not to splice that mainbrace. Here, kid, he remembered you in his will. (Hands Skippy a quarter.) Pick somethin’ hot.

SKIPMINSTER: And long. Very, very long.

(Skippy goes to the jukebox beside the bar and finds, buried in with the pop tunes, Beethoven’s complete 5th Symphony, “as seen on TV!” He selects this. Across the room Slippery and Skipminster try to dance to this, while Captain Slapshot leaves the table and comes toward the bar. The BARTENDER, the one from the Love Boat, notices Skippy isn’t going anywhere.)

BARTENDER: Hi! I’m Isaac, your bartender!

SKIPPY: Hi. I’m eight.

ISAAC: Well, I’m sure a boy of eight could go for a tall, cool glass of spring water. (Points at Skippy with both hands and clicks his tongue twice.) Or maybe you’d rather have the vegetable oil the tuna also gets packed in?

SKIPPY: Spew, no. Water’s fine.

(Isaac gives him a glass of water.)

ISAAC: So, how do you like the cruise? (Skippy shrugs.) Girlfriend trouble? Maybe you’re looking for new love?

SKIPPY: No. It’s my parents. They like to fight.

ISAAC: Everybody’s got they’re own strange way of showing affection. It sounds like your mom and dad are the hot-blooded type.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: (Wandering up.) It sounds more like they hate each others guts. Walnut liqueur, there.

(Isaac gives her one.)

SKIPPY: That’s what they keeping saying. But...they really like each other.

ISAAC: Sounds like a case of deep denial.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Deep somethin’, all right. Tell you what. I’ll interfere in yer private lives. D’ya really want yer folks together?

SKIPPY: Sure.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Then let’s remind them what they care about, starting with you. We’ll stage a little emergency, and after they rescue you from a fate worse than “Family Matters”, there’ll be this domino effect and they’ll be in each other’s arms before you can say, “Gimme the rest of this walnut liqueur in a Big Gulp!”

ISAAC: Comin’ up! (Winks, points, and clicks his tongue twice.)

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: C’mon, kid. Let’s go outside. (She leads Skippy out to the railing. There’s no moon, and Los Angeles is, as always, smogged over. Slapshot feigns nonchalance and paces around the deck until she reaches the bow and pours her Big Gulp and its huge load of ice overboard.) Well, I’ll be keelhauled. Looks like a night for icebergs. Or Dave Berg, whichever’s worse. Just to be safe, I’m ordering all the ship’s children into the
lifeboats. In ya go, kid! (Boosts Skippy into a lifeboat.) Now keep quiet and lay low.

SKIPPY: I don’t want to be in a little boat in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night!

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Too late. You already are. I assume you mean a littler boat. Relax, I’m not launching ya inta the drink. Yer perfectly safe. Now, wait here while I go scare yer parents to death. They’ll come and fawn all over ya, and before ya know it, you’ll be the only kid in school with parents married to each other. (She turns to go inside, and accidentally bumps the release. Skippy and his lifeboat drop over the side and out of sight.)

SKIPPY: Captain Slapsh-o-o-o-o-o-t! (Tapers off as he disappears.)

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: SHOOT me! Time to improvise. (Reaches offscreen to get a mine, runs to the opposite side of the ship, and lobs it overboard.)

[don Jaime]

(The dining room. Slippery and Skipminster are still gamely dancing to Beethoven.)

SLIPPERY: (Trying to make conversation.) Hard music to dance to, huh?

SKIPMINSTER: Yeah. (Pause while he tries to make conversation.) Thanks for saving my can back there. Truce or no truce, you didn’t have to do that.

SLIPPERY: Well, I felt sorry for you. Captain Slapshot comes on too strong. But she is right.

SKIPMINSTER: Popeye likes to skinny-dip? I thought that was just a rumor....

SLIPPERY: No. It’s romantic. We’re sailing to Mexico, and I have my favorite man in the world with me. And my ex-husband. (Winks.)

SKIPMINSTER: (Laughs.) I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool. I don’t know how to make it up to you anymore.

SLIPPERY: I could always use a lawyer to get me out of jail.

SKIPMINSTER: Who’ll keep me out? I’m not much better. We’re more jailbirds than lovebirds.

SLIPPERY: We’re getting along fine now. Tell me, how did you now I used to be a Communist? I never saw you at any of the meetings.

SKIPMINSTER: (Shrugs.) Wild guess. Speaking of which, what should we do once we’re in Mexico?

SLIPPERY: We can always teach English.

SKIPMINSTER: Do you know any Spanish?

SLIPPERY: Not a word. You?

SKIPMINSTER: No. We can always learn, though. We learned how to get along.

SLIPPERY: Skippy’ll probably teach us Spanish, too. (They both laugh, and start to kiss. An explosion rocks the ship, and Captain Slapshot enters.)

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: We’ve hit an iceberg!

SLIPPERY: Then what was the explosion?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: For good measure. You’d better get movin’, the kid’s already left without ya.

SHRILL WOMAN: Aaigh! There’s a run on the lifeboats! (Other PASSENGERS scream and rush the door. ISAAC is carried along in the dash.)

ISAAC: (Sound of lifeboat launching, and his voice trailing off.) Wait! I haven’t acted all cool leaving the room yet! Stooop! (Tourists leave with him anyway, and the other lifeboats can be heard launching.)

SLIPPERY: LEFT WITHOUT US!

SKIPMINSTER: HOW?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: (Leading them outside.) Eh, my mistake, there. Got a little ahead of myself with the whole abandon ship thing. Sounds like we’re out of lifeboats, too. But, here, have a rubber liferaft. Maybe you can catch up with him. I got something important to attend to.

SKIPMINSTER: Wait! I have a favor to ask you.

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Yeah?

SKIPMINSTER: I want you to marry us. (Slippery is speechless but pleased.) C’mon, ship captains can do that, can’t they?

CAPTAIN SLAPSHOT: Uh, no. Common misperception, though. That’s the chaplain’s job. Our chaplain’s that bartender guy who just left. Sorry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m supposed to go down with the ship and old “Sea Chicken” is gettin’ ahead of me. Buh-bye! (Dives overboard, and is gone.)

SKIPMINSTER: Rats.

SLIPPERY: Cheer up, there’s a chaplain at the jail. It’s nothing she can’t handle. Now, let’s go get our kid. All we have to do is find a way to inflate this life raft.

SKIPMINSTER: The wind’s in our favor. Why don’t we fly? Two lungfulls of legalese should take us right to Skippy. (Inhales sharply, puts the tube to his lips and mumbles into it.) Ipso facto a writ of amicus curiae was filed on behalf of the party of the third part stipulating plaintiff determined the Donald McRonald coffee was indeed 211 degrees.... (Seals tube and drapes part of a tuna net over it.) There, that ought to do it. This raft’s got
more hot air in it than the Goodyear Blimp.

SLIPPERY: I thought the Goodyear Blimp was filled with helium.

SKIPMINSTER: I sure it is, but I needed a metaphor.

SLIPPERY: Or a simile.

SKIPMINSTER: Whatever it is.

SLIPPERY: Y’know, I don’t know, either? (They take off. “Sea Chicken” capsizes.)

CLUELESS TOURIST: (Within.) Whattaya mean, we gotta climb the Christmas tree?!? This is August!

[don Jaime]

(A lifeboat in the dark. Skippy, alone, owl-eyed, trying to see “Sea Chicken”.)

SKIPPY: Hello? (No answer.) Great. (Scowls and leans his head in his hands., then sits up in shock.) I’m sitting in something wet! Hope it’s not me...oh, no, the boat’s sinking. Waaaaah! My heart won’t go on!

SKIPMINSTER: (Above.) Look out below!

SLIPPERY: (Above.) Hang on, Sonny! (Slippery and Skipminster descend into the lifeboat and grip the sides with one hand, to avoid taking off again.)

SKIPPY: You came! Both of you! It worked!

SLIPPERY: Child, please tell me you didn’t scuttle the S. S. “Drip” to get us back together.

SKIPPY: Uh, no. We were gonna fake it.

SLIPPERY: So, we can go back to the ship?

CLUELESS TOURIST: (In the distance.) WE MADE IT! WE’RE OUTSIDE! WE’RE SAV-glub-glub-glub-glub!

SKIPMINSTER: Doesn’t sound like it. This one’s done for, too. Quick, son, grab hold of us. (Skippy clings to both of them, and they let go of the lifeboat. All three stretch upward, and nothing happens.)

SLIPPERY and SKIPMINSTER: (To each other.) He adds too much weight....

SKIPMINSTER: Well, then I’m staying here. (Lets go of the liferaft balloon.) You two head for shore. I’ll be fine till the rescuers come.

SLIPPERY: No, you’re not. I can wait. You get Skippy to safety. I can wait. (Lets go of the balloon.)

SKIPPY: MOM! DAD! (They watch in horror as the liferaft balloon drifts away. Skippy swallows hard. His parents gather him in and hug him tight. The little family stares up into the dark and silence, and waits for what comes next.)

CLUELESS TOURIST: (In the distance.) glub-glub-SAVED! WE’RE ALIVE! WE MADE IT!

SLAPPY: (In the distance.) Yeah, good fer you. Ya seen my niece, or her son, or her boyfriend? I think they were running away on that ship.

SKIPPY: OVER HERE, AUNT SLAPPY!

SKIPMINSTER: Aaah. Never thought I’d be glad to hear her.

SLIPPERY: Never underestimate my aunt.

(To the tune of “The Ride of the Valkyries,” a patrol boat, with Slappy Squirrel at the bow, rides out of the darkness. She leans over the side and pulls first Skippy, then Slippery, and finally, with some hesitation, Skipminster aboard.)

SLAPPY: Slippery, did you take my purse?

SLIPPERY: Yes, Aunt Slappy.

SLAPPY: Well, give it back! (Slippery does. Slappy turns to the HARBOR POLICE and throws her badge overboard.) I quit. I just wanted my purse back.

[don Jaime]

(The harbor patrol station. Slippery and Skipminster Squirrel stand straight, handcuffed together. Beside her is Slappy, beside him, Skippy. In front, fresh from his rescue and standing on their deflated liferaft, is Isaac.)

ISAAC: ...And in the presence of these witnesses (Slappy and Skippy nod.) I know pronounce you husband and wife. You may know kiss. (Points at them and clicks his tongue twice. Skippy’s parents kiss.) I think my work here is done. (Points and clicks again, and exits.)

SLIPPERY: I think we’re off to jail now. (She kisses Skippy good-bye.) Looks like you’re back with your great-aunt again, Sonny. Don’t give her too much trouble. I’ll see you soon. I love you.

SKIPPY: I love you, too, Mom.

SKIPMINSTER: Don’t worry, kid. I’m thinking out the injunctions even now. We’ll be one big happy family again real quick. (He kisses Skippy good-bye.) And give your great-aunt too much trouble, okay?

SKIPPY: Right! Um, Dad....

SKIPMINSTER: Yes?

SKIPPY: I love you.

SKIPMINSTER: I love you, too, kid. Good-bye.

SLIPPERY: Good-bye, sonny. (The police start them around a corner to the lock-up.)

SKIPPY: Good-bye, Mom! Good-bye, Dad!

SLIPPERY and SKIPMINSTER: (Gone, and voices fading.) Good-bye! See you soon!

SKIPMINSTER: (Fading.) I still think we should have taken an airplane.

SLIPPERY: (Fading.) It’s not enough to sink, you want to fall out of the sky, too?

SLAPPY: (Hugs Skippy.) Feel like cryin’?

SKIPPY: (Sniffs hard.) No. I’m too old for that. They’ll be out soon, right, Aunt Slappy?

SLAPPY: Sure, kiddo. Hardly any time at all.

SKIPPY: How long is that?

SLAPPY: I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway, the story just ended.

SKIPPY: (Relaxes.) Oh, okay! Aunt Slappy, was that comedy?

SLAPPY: I wouldn’t know, Skippy. I was hardly in it! (Winks and bursts out laughing. Skippy doesn’t understand, but laughs, too.)