SS: Hello?

GK: ...Hello.

SS: Duane, it's your mother.

GK: Yes.

SS: Well, what do you mean, yes?

GK: I mean yes. That it is you I'm talking to. How are you,


SS: What are you doing up so late?

GK: Actually, I was sleeping, Mom.

SS: Oh, honey! I figured because you picked up you must be

awake -

GK: It's ok, Mom. I'm awake now.

SS: (BEAT) Duane, I had to call because I'm wondering if

you might have Sloan's Disorder?

GK: I don't think so. Why?

SS: There's no cure. It's not fatal but there is no cure.

GK: Ok.

SS: I was just up reading about this on WebMD and I got

worried. It's a mysterious inflammation and you feel crummy

all the time and you're depressed and another symptom is low

affect and an intolerance of being around other people. And

sadness. It just made me think of you.

GK: I don't think so, Mom.

SS: Sloan's Disorder. It might come from a B-12 deficiency

or it might be from an injury suffered at birth.

GK: Mom, where are you getting all of this?

SS: I was reading online and I started looking up stuff. I'm

worried about you. I found that empty cigarette pack in your

trash last Wednesday when I brought your laundry back to

your apartment.

GK: What were you doing in my trash? Mom----

SS: I just happened to look down and there it was. A

Marlboro box. Oh honey. I worry. I'm your mother.

GK: Those belonged to a friend of mine. I don't smoke.

SS: Oh? Who is she?

GK: Her name is Teresa. It doesn't matter. I don't smoke.

SS: Teresa. Is she Catholic?

GK: Mom, you call me at two in the morning and tell me

about some stupid disease------

SS: I can't help it. I worry.

GK: We're all fine, Mom. We're just fine.

SS: Duane, I did an online quiz - "Are You a Psychopath?"

And your father qualified across the board, with flying colors.

GK: Are you telling me you're scared of dad?

SS: Flying colors. I've been living with a psychopath. I've

spent Christmases with a psychopath and -

GK: Had a child with a psychopath--

SS: Exactly. Speaking of whom---- (SFX OFF MUMBLING)

he's right here in bed next to me. He wants to say Hi. (OFF)

Hank - Hank, wake up! Duane's on the phone.

(MUMBLING) No, nothing's wrong. Sit up and talk to your

son. (WHISPER) Be careful what you say. Duane. Total

psychopath. (ON) Here's your dad, honey -

TR: Hi, Son.

GK: Hi, Dad.

TR: So, were you just sleeping?

GK: Yeah. You?

TR: Yup. Sleeping like a baby.

GK: So, Mom thinks you're a psychopath.

TR: Oh, she's been going on about that for some time.

GK: Are you?

TR: She's diagnosed the whole neighborhood.

GK: Really?

TR: She has it herself, too.

GK: Dad, were you dreaming just now?

TR: Yup. Was cleaning the gutters.

GK: In your dream?

TR: Smelled your mom's chilli cooking, too.

GK: Hm.

TR: Well, I . . .(SNORES)

SS: (OFF) Hank? Hank! (ON) Oh, he's out like a light. Didn't

I tell you? Total psychopath. Can't even stay awake to talk to

his own son.

GK: Mom, as long as we're on the phone - I wanted to tell

you I may not come home for Christmas. Teresa really really

wants me to go to her family's farm in Indiana.

SS: What.

GK: But we can talk about it in the morning.

SS: You're going to spend Christmas with a Catholic family

in Indiana? A family of smokers? You, with your Sloan

Disorder? Oh my gosh. Stab me in the heart with an icicle,

why don't you?

GK: Mom, please.

SS: Our tree is all up and decorated, Duane. I worked for

hours on that. You think I put a tree up for me and your dad??

Well, guess again. And I stay up til all hours doing research

on what may be wrong with you and this is the thanks I get?

GK: Mom, I'll be sure to be home for New Year's. Okay?


SS (WEEPY): When I was carrying you inside me, Duane, I

was so careful to eat everything from the different food

groups and I ate so well that you weighed almost fourteen

pounds at birth. Fourteen pounds.- most of it in your head.

Fourteen pounds. Next time you go bowling, pick up a

fourteen-pound bowling ball and imagine having that inside

you. Plus you had a full head of hair, which created drag all

the way out.

GK: Mom, stop.

SS: And after all I did to create you---- and cherish you -----

and what do I get back? You abandon us to go out and pray to

statues. In Indiana. I ought to stop caring ---- it's like trying to

hug a brick wall. All you do is get scratched. A brick wall is

never going to love you back. So I learned my lesson. I don't

care. Go. Enjoy your Catholic Christmas. (SOBS)

GK: Mom, please. She isn't Catholic. She's Methodist.

SS: And that makes everything all right??? Oh Duane, I just

can't believe you have Sloan's Disorder.

GK: Mom. I'm fine. Don't think about it.

SS: "Don't think about it." Listen to him. "Don't think about

it." Duane, someday, if you have children ---- which, if

what's-her-name were Catholic, there'd be a better chance of -

--- if you have children, you'll understand. But never mind.

We're all right. We'll just take down your stocking and

pretend you don't exist and go off for Christmas dinner at a

hotel or something.

GK: I'll be there the day after Christmas.

SS: I made cheese balls for you. Your favourite cheese balls.

GK: I'll be there on the 26th.

SS: Ok, honey. Suit yourself.

GK: Ok, Mom, I'm going to get some sleep. Why don't you

go to sleep too?

SS: There's no sleep for me, Duane. Someday you'll


GK: Ok, Mom. I love you.

SS: I love you, Duane. Bye now.

GK: Bye now.