SAM: [Reading from the screen to an unseen KAREN] Apparently GW's latest nominee defined what was normal while in college.

KAREN: [Offstage] No doubt with God's help. What did he decide it is?

SAM: I don't think it's us.

KAREN: [Offstage] Damn!

Sam hits save on the screen and turns in swivel chair to face the door.

SAM: I know. I'm disappointed too.

KAREN: [enters] NO! Not that. This bloody bread maker is still too hot from the last lovely loaf I made. I've fed it all the ingredients and now it won't let me set the program to start baking!

SAM: Give it a few minutes to cool and try again.

KAREN: No. I have to be up early.

SAM: Presumably without the gourmet "show" loaf you promised to take to the party at work?

KAREN: I'll make it when the cat gets us up at six o'clock.

SAM: Us? You must mean you and the cat. If you have to get up at six for bread, then you're doing it without me.

KAREN stands beside SAM. She leans over in what soon becomes an embrace.

KAREN: If you're not happy here, I wouldn't want to stand in the way of your happiness. Off you go! Pack your bag!

SAM: Hugging me while you're saying this is a bit of a mixed message.

KAREN: If you chose to take it that way.

SAM: But you already mixed the ingredients and the yeast, right? So what happens if it sits there all night?

KAREN: I'm going to bed. I am not going to be ruled by a bread maker.

SAM: But this is your lovely cheese and herb bread to impress your lowly peons!

KAREN: I am going to bed.

SAM: [sighs] What program are you using . . .

KAREN: You press menu twice, then press start, but you see, it WON'T!

SAM: It will when it cools down.

KAREN: [with a kiss] Thank you. Then I'm going to bed.

KAREN shuts off light and begins to undress. She pauses. Sam is sitting in the chair, arms crossed, looking expectant.

KAREN: Why are you still sitting there?

SAM: Floor show.

KAREN: Don't you . . . do that.

SAM: You mean, watch you?

KAREN: YES!

SAM: Being a sex object after five years is a good thing.

KAREN: No, it isn't.

But KAREN continues to strip off her clothes.

SAM: Absolutely lovely.

KAREN: Look. I won't have you leering and drooling. Turn around.

SAM: I defy you to find any drool anywhere.

KAREN: It's all over. Drooling down all horrible and nasty. Horrible Person. I'm getting in bed.

KAREN lifts blankets and slides under the covers. She looks up to see SAM has shut off the computer and moved to the side of the bed.

SAM: Move over.

KAREN: I thought you were going to take care of my lovely bread?

SAM: I will. But in exchange I demand cuddling time.

KAREN moves aside and Sam drops dressing gown and slides in. Cat grudgingly moves as well.

KAREN: You're disturbing the cat.

SAM: The cat is already disturbed.

KAREN: Years of living with you. I know how that can happen.

SAM: The cuddling makes it worthwhile.

KAREN: True.

Their heads are now close together and they speak quietly.

SAM: Only because I love you.

KAREN: Silly old moo.

SAM: I object to each of those words.

KAREN: You denying that you're old? Silly? A Moo?

SAM: You're a silly old bear.

KAREN: [Growls]

KAREN rests her head on SAM's shoulder and both close eyes. Then Sam lifts her head.

SAM: I need to make excelsior for tomorrow. Can I have your shredder?

KAREN: What . . . are you talking about?

SAM: I want to shred that paper I bought for the egg baskets I'm making for the Easter party at the home.

KAREN: Then why not say that?

SAM: It was a perfectly logical sentence.

KAREN: It was not.

SAM: The shredded stuff you put the eggs in is called excelsior.

KAREN: Maybe on your planet.

SAM: Excelsior.

KAREN: Yes, dear.

SAM: A banner with a strange device.

KAREN: Now you're completely logical.

SAM: It's a poem by Longfellow.

KAREN: Suddenly normal is becoming very attractive.

SAM: Normal would have you alone in this bed.

KAREN: And the bad part of that would be . . . ?

SAM: You're arguing a lot for someone who wanted to go to sleep and get up early.

KAREN: Why couldn't you just say, "I'd like to have your shredder to make some paper shreds for some Easter baskets for my old people." Instead of blathering on.

SAM: My sentence had less words and was more precise.

KAREN: Not if I don't know what you're blathering on about.

SAM: I thought you'd know. You're the one with the English Lit degree.

KAREN: Yes, and it's about useful subjects. Not what you blather on about.

SAM: I am not blathering!

KAREN: And how am I going to get to sleep if you keep moving around and yapping away about shredded paper?

SAM: I agree. Less talk, more cuddling.

Again they settle in together. This time it is Karen who lifts her head.

KAREN: Is the back door locked?

There is a pause.

SAM: Possibly.

KAREN: Is it locked?

SAM: I'll see when I check the bread maker.

KAREN: I don't want anyone breaking in.

SAM: Maybe they'll steal the bread maker and solve all my problems.

KAREN: If someone breaks in and steals the bread maker, you'll have many more problems, believe me.

SAM: The insurance will cover it.

KAREN: If you leave the door unlocked, the insurance won't cover it.

SAM: Nonsense. Even if a door is open, to walk in without permission is unlawful entry and to take something is theft. Got to be covered by theft insurance.

KAREN: It isn't.

SAM: We're in the house, we have a right to have the door unlocked.

KAREN: It isn't covered.

SAM: Is in Canada.

KAREN: If you hadn't noticed, this isn't Canada.

SAM: So, in Britain, if some guy comes to some old ladies' door and says he's the meter reader, shows some card, and while she's making tea for him, robs her of everything, the insurance company will say, "we won't pay because you're stupid?"

KAREN: It's negligence on the part of the policy holder.

SAM: The insurance companies would be in court all the time trying to prove or disprove stupidity on the part of policy holders.

KAREN: Just lock the door.

SAM: Why are we talking about theft? I'd have thought you'd be more worried about somebody sneaking in and coming into the room and going (makes PSYCHO' stabbing noises.)

KAREN: That too. Actually about now, I might welcome it.

SAM: I will repeat this again, aren't you trying to go to sleep?

KAREN: Yes, but you keep going on about shredded paper.

SAM: I am not going on. You keep dredging it up.

KAREN: You can't seem to say things clearly.

SAM: Then I will be very clear. May I borrow the paper shredder tomorrow?

KAREN: Of course.

SAM: We have now dealt with the shredded paper. We have pressed it through the finest screens, sifted it excruciatingly carefully and removed every nugget that could be gleaned.

KAREN: So you say. Now you've upset the cat. [to cat which is standing on their bodies and glowering down at them both] Do you want to go out?

SAM: I know I do.

KAREN: I was just getting comfortable and you have to move.

SAM: I am not a mattress.

KAREN: Of course you are. Let the cat out if you must get up.

SAM extracts herself from under KAREN and swings legs over the side of the bed.

SAM leaves room with cat sulkily following behind.

KAREN: Did the poor little mite go out?

SAM: [from offstage] The poor little mite slunk out with that charming air of "I despise you and I am going to a bigger house with nicer people and better food."

KAREN: Are you going to start my lovely bread?

SAM: [enters and puts on dressing gown]No. I'm only heading toward the kitchen now to see if an inter-dimensional portal has opened up in the living room.

SAM exits.

KAREN: Did it work?

SAM enters bedroom and takes off dressing gown.

KAREN: Did it Work?

SAM: You mean that grinding mechanical bread machine type noise you hear? No, that's just my teeth.

SAM stands beside bed, which is now completely covered by sprawling KAREN. SAM waits.

KAREN: Yes?

SAM: Is there any room in there for me?

KAREN: No, I've decided I need all of the bed.

SAM: Interesting decision. It will not stand up to reality.

KAREN: I am not fond of this reality.

KAREN moves over and SAM gets back into the bed.

SAM: So you say. Often.

KAREN: Lie flat, and stop moving about.

KAREN prods and pushes SAM about until KAREN's head is resting on SAM's shoulders in the right position.

SAM: Comfy?

KAREN: If you'd stay still.

SAM: My mother didn't raise me to be a mattress.

KAREN: Poor thing.

SAM: My mother?

KAREN: Her too. I feel her pain. Now be quiet and don't talk about shredded paper.

SAM makes strangled noise.

KAREN: And the door is locked, right?

SAM lifts her head to stare at her resting partner.

KAREN: What?

SAM: You! You're enough to drive me normal, you know that?

KAREN: I love you too.

SAM ruefully shakes her head. They kiss, long and lovingly.

SAM: Goodnight, Love.

KAREN: Goodnight.

Lights dim. There is silence until . . .

KAREN: The door is locked, right?

Curtain closes.