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THE AUDIT By Stephen Bittrich
5701 W Slaughter Lane
Suite A130-204
Austin, TX 78749
Tel: (646) 245-4507
E-mail: SBittrich@aol.com
Copyright © 2003,
by Stephen Bittrich
(Draft: April, 2003)
Back to PLAYS page Back to One-Acts page
THE AUDIT By Stephen Bittrich
5701 W Slaughter Lane
Suite A130-204
Austin, TX 78749
Tel: (646) 245-4507
E-mail: SBittrich@aol.com
Copyright © 2003,
by Stephen Bittrich
(Draft: April, 2003)
"THE AUDIT"
BY STEPHEN BITTRICH
SETTING:
An office.
AT RISE:
Mr. SAPP sits behind the desk. MR.
SMITH enters with a video camera,
capturing SAPP in his environment.
MRS. SMITH quickly follows with a
television on a tall rolling cart. The
camera is hooked up to the television,
so everything on the camera is live. A
close up of SAPP fills the screen.
MR. SMITH
Hello!
SAPP
(Confused)
Hello.
MRS. SMITH
Hello!
SAPP
Yes, hello.
MR. SMITH
Dr. Sapp, I presume?
SAPP
No.
MR. SMITH
No?
SAPP
I'm not a doctor.
MRS. SMITH
Dear, he's not a doctor.
MR. SMITH
No, of course not. Silly of me. Doctor...pfffft!
SAPP
What's all this then?
MR. SMITH
As you see.
SAPP
Are you my eight thirty?
MRS. SMITH
So formal!
MR. SMITH
(à la Groucho)
I don't know about your eight thirty, but I'm her eight and a
half, if ya know what I mean.
MRS. SMITH
Oh, stop!
(Mini-beat)
Dreamer.
MR. SMITH
Ouch.
SAPP
Are you...
(Checks his appointment book)
Mr. and Mrs. Lyonel Smith?
MR. SMITH
Yes sir, Captain, sir.
MRS. SMITH
Well, I don't think he's a captain either.
SAPP
My name is Warren Sapp, and you may call me Mr. Sapp.
MR. SMITH
Roger Wilco.
SAPP
Have you brought all the necessary documentation?
MR. SMITH
Yes.
MRS. SMITH
Oh my, have we. Sully's just coming up with it now.
SAPP
Sully is...your accountant?
MRS. SMITH
Oh goodness no! He's the cab driver. Very nice man.
(MR. SMITH gets up close to
SAPP with the camera)
SAPP
Mr. Smith, do you think it's a wise idea to set an
antagonistic tone for this procedure?
MR. SMITH
How's that?
SAPP
The camera.
MRS. SMITH
Antagonistic?
MR. SMITH
We've got nothing to hide, Reverend Sapp.
MRS. SMITH
Oh honey, now you're just being silly. He's not a man of the
cloth.
MR. SMITH
No, he's a man of the paper.
(SULLY enters with a cart of
about seven boxes with little
pieces of colored paper-
receipts--sticking out of the
sides. The boxes are STUFFED
to the max)
MRS. SMITH
Speaking of which--!
SULLY
Hello, Mrs. S.
MRS. SMITH
Hello, Sully. Aren't you a dear.
MR. SMITH
Sully!
SULLY
Hello, Mr. S.!
MR. SMITH
This is Staff Sergeant Sapp.
SULLY
Yeah right. Here, pull the other one.
(Beat, to SAPP)
You treat these people nice, okay?
SAPP
I shall treat Mr. and Mrs. Smith exactly as I treat everyone
else who comes into this office.
SULLY
I don't like your sort.
MR. SMITH
Ouch. Got that on tape.
SAPP
You're not helping your friends much--
MRS. SMITH
Oh, he's no friend of ours!
MR. SMITH
Nope.
MRS. SMITH
He's a freelance employee.
SULLY
Well, I've got the cab double parked...
(MR. SMITH pulls a crisp fifty
dollar bill from his pocket,
snaps it a few times for
SAPP's benefit, then hands it
to SULLY)
MR. SMITH
Thank you for your help, Sully.
SULLY
Mr. S., you're too kind.
MRS. SMITH
Please kiss the wife and kids for us.
SAPP
Will do, Mrs. S.
(HE gives her a kiss on the
cheek--is about to leave--)
MR. SMITH
Oh, uh, Sully...
SULLY
Yes, Mr. S.?
MR. SMITH
Think I could get a receipt from you for the, uh--?
SULLY
Of course, Mr. S. What was I thinking?
(Spotting a crumpled napkin on
the desk...to Mr. SAPP)
You finished with that?
(Before SAPP can answer, SULLY
grabs the napkin and scrawls
out a quick "receipt" on the
napkin)
There ya go. I made it for an even hundred to cover the
fifty you gave me downstairs.
MR. SMITH
What? I didn't give--
(SULLY gives a big wink)
Oh! Oh, of course...the fifty downstairs.
SULLY
Now yer catching on. So long folks.
MRS. SMITH
(Sing songy)
Good bye!
SAPP
Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I have other appointments today. Shall
we get started?
MR. SMITH
Right away, Mr. President.
(THEY sit)
SAPP
Now I believe, Mr. And Mrs. Smith, part of the reason your
return was tagged for an audit has to do with some of the
questionable business deductions you've claimed on your
return.
MRS. SMITH
Questionable?
MR. SMITH
(like he's on Gunsmoke)
Can't say like the sound of that, Marshall.
SAPP
For example, thirty thousand dollars for "business
entertainment" seems rather...excessive.
MR. SMITH
Excessive for you maybe.
(To MRS. SMITH)
That's somewhere on the bottom, dear.
(MRS. SMITH starts moving boxes
from the cart, her butt to the
two men. MR. SMITH zooms in
on her behind. SAPP notices
this on the television. MR.
SMITH turns and catches him
looking. SAPP gets
embarrassed)
MR. SMITH (cont'd)
(à la Eliza Doolittle's father)
Caught you looking, gov'ner.
SAPP
I wasn't--
MR. SMITH
Not to worry. What do you think I married her for, eh?
SAPP
Mr. Smith, the camera is highly irregular--
MRS. SMITH
Here it is--business entertainment.
(SHE pulls out an over-stuffed
folder which is brimming with
receipts. Many drop on the
floor as SHE brings it to
SAPP's desk, and SHE doesn't
bother to pick them up. SAPP
opens the folder, and first
thing HE sees--
SAPP
Okay, now right off the bat, you've got a receipt here for
five-thousand-thirty-six dollars and seventy-eight cents for
lingerie from Fredericks of Hollywood.
MRS. SMITH
Ooops.
MR. SMITH
That's in the wrong folder...
MRS. SMITH
Should be in "uniforms."
SAPP
Uniforms?
MRS. SMITH
Yes.
SAPP
Mr. and Mrs. Smith, you sell...
(Looking at the tax return)
MRS. SMITH
--galoshes.
SAPP
You sell galoshes.
MR. SMITH
Of the highest quality. We brought a pair for you, comrade.
Everyone could use a good pair of galoshes.
SAPP
It's not appropriate for me to accept gifts...
MRS. SMITH
So honest!
MR. SMITH
He's a treasure.
SAPP
You sell galoshes, and everyone in your office, you'd have me
believe--
MR. SMITH
--I look very fetching in fish nets.
MRS. SMITH
That's an understatement.
(MR. SMITH blows her a kiss)
SAPP
Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I'm having a great deal of trouble--
MR. SMITH
(To SAPP)
When's the last time you wore women's undergarments?
SAPP
What? I wore...? Never!
MRS. SMITH
Don't know what your missing.
MR. SMITH
It's quite a sensation. Silky, smooth, luxurious. Like
having a silky, smooth, luxurious woman caressing your beans
and franks all day long.
MRS. SMITH
(Getting all hot and bothered)
Oooo! Grrrr!
(MR. SMITH kisses her neck.
SHE squeals uncontrollably as
if HE were mercilessly
tickling her. HE does it
again, this time making sure
to get the best video angle.
SAPP is strangely and
grudgingly intrigued, fixating
on the video monitor, but then
quickly trying to bring it
back to business)
SAPP
Uh...Mr....Mr. and Mrs. Smith...uh...Mr. and Mrs. Smith...can
we...please...PLEASE!
(THEY stop...turn to SAPP
grinning widely)
MRS. SMITH
Don't know how you expect me to concentrate on figures now.
MR. SMITH
I've got a figure you can concentrate on.
MRS. SMITH
(Fanning herself)
You're a fine figure of a man. Oooo, boy! Is it hot in
here!
(Indicating SAPP's coffee cup)
Can I get a swig of that, Warren?
SAPP
No!
(SHE drinks before HE can stop
her, and her eyes pop wide
open)
MRS. SMITH
Whew!
(Coughs)
That's some hair of a big ole dog!
MR. SMITH
(laughing hysterically)
You should have seen your face! Got it all on tape.
MRS. SMITH
Got any more of that, bartender?
SAPP
Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I am going to have to
insist that we, we continue...please.
(MR. and MRS. SMITH sit)
SAPP (cont'd)
Now...okay...here on a napkin you have something scrawled in
childlike writing from...someone named Trixie. Fifty
dollars. I mean really! Your paperwork--
MR. SMITH
Oh yeah, Trixie!
MRS. SMITH
She was a dear.
MR. SMITH
Passed away. Very unfortunate circumstances. Combine
accident.
MRS. SMITH
No, no, wrong dear. She was stampeded by a cow--
MR. SMITH
--with mad cow disease. That's right. Tragic.
(Beat)
Is "stampeded" really the right word when there was only one
cow?
SAPP
I shudder to inquire what sort of services Trixie provided as
they pertain to business entertainment.
MRS. SMITH
(After a beat)
Fucking.
MR. SMITH
Yes, fucking.
SAPP
Are you telling me that--
MR. SMITH
We made thirty thousand dollars that particular day,
remember, dear?
MRS. SMITH
Trixie was good at fucking.
MR. SMITH
She was a closer.
SAPP
Do you mean to say--you would have me believe that Trixie
somehow is responsible for a--
MR. SMITH
--a thirty thousand dollar order of galoshes. Let's face it,
sex sells.
MRS. SMITH
Remember, Lyonel, she closed on a $50,000 sale about two
months later.
MR. SMITH
She was a treasure. I think it was her teeth.
MRS. SMITH
True.
SAPP
Her teeth?
MRS. SMITH
She didn't have any.
MR. SMITH
Just gums.
MRS. SMITH
Very popular with the buyers.
SAPP
So you mean to tell me that a cheap hooker--!
MR. SMITH
Hey, hey now--!
MRS. SMITH
Really!
MR. SMITH
Watch your mouth, officer! Trixie was not cheap!
SAPP
This receipt is for fifty dollars!
MR. SMITH
She gave us a wholesale rate.
SAPP
Oh for Christsake, any hooker who charges anything less than
five hundred dollars is...
MRS. SMITH
Five hundred? Is that the going rate these days?
SAPP
I--I don't really know. I have never in my life used a,
a...can we please return to the subject at hand?
MR. SMITH
Uh oh, that's on the highlight reel, Senator Sapp.
SAPP
Will you turn off that goddamned camera!
MRS. SMITH
Ooops, someone got up on the wrong side of the hooker this
morning.
SAPP
Can we please...I sleep with my wife!
MR. SMITH
Well, I should hope so.
SAPP
I don't sleep with--with hookers.
MR. SMITH
Well, who'd want to sleep anyway--when you've got a hooker?
SAPP
I know nothing about hookers. I only once read somewhere
that five hundred dollars was--
MRS. SMITH
Me thinks he doth protest to much.
SAPP
Turn off that camera. I'm going to insist now--
MR. SMITH
I object, your honor!
SAPP
Give me that! Give me that!
(SAPP lunges at MR. SMITH,
trips on a trash can, and
falls on MRS. SMITH instead
unintentionally grabbing her
chest for support)
I'm--I'm sorry, Mrs. Smith.
MRS. SMITH
My what strong hands you have!
MR. SMITH
The better to grope you with, my dear.
SAPP
That was an accident.
MR. SMITH
I know, I know. Got it all on tape.
SAPP
I slipped! That wasn't intentional! Will you please turn
that off?
MR. SMITH
Are you kidding? I want to remember you for the rest of my
life, Warren Sapp. Our rendezvous here today is a treasure
in the long book of life experiences. Gritty. Real.
Honest.
MRS. SMITH
It's a beautiful thing.
MR. SMITH
Would you like a copy?
MRS. SMITH
Who wouldn't?
MR. SMITH
For you and the missus to watch over and over...and over
again.
MRS. SMITH
Now that's special.
SAPP
(After a long pause, sucking it
in)
Mr. Smith...Mrs. Smith...after careful review, I see
that...your return is in perfect order.
MRS. SMITH
Oh Mr. Sapp, what a dear!
SAPP
And I am giving you a grade of A-1 which means you'll have no
additional taxes or penalties.
(MR. SMITH removes the tape
from the camera and puts it in
his right hand)
MR. SMITH
Care to shake on that, Mr. Sapp?
SAPP
Nothing would please me more.
MR. SMITH
Put her there.
(THEY shake and SAPP gets the
tape)
SAPP
Can I get one of our Junior auditors to help you down with
those boxes?
MRS. SMITH
Aren't you a dear?
MR. SMITH
That would be swell. Mr. Sapp, who says the IRS doesn't have
a heart?
(Lights fade to black)
(END OF PLAY)