Rumors

RUMORS
Lenny
By:  Neil Simon


Lenny is pretending to be his friend Charley in this monologue. He is talking to the police who want to know what is going on.  His story is a big giant made up lie.
   Okay… the story… as it happened… oh, God… Well…At exactly six o’clock tonight I came home from work. My wife, Myra, was in her dressing room getting dressed for the party. I got a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator and headed upstairs. Rosita, the Spanish cook, was in the kitchen with Ramona, her Spanish sister and Romero, her Spanish son. They were preparing an Italian dinner. As I climbed the stairs, I said to myself, “It’s my tenth wedding anniversary and I can’t believe I still love my wife so much.” Myra was putting on the perfume I bought her for Christmas. I purposely buy it because it drives me crazy… I tapped on her door. She opens it. I hand her a glass of champagne. I make a toast. “To the most beautiful wife a man ever had for ten years.” She says, ” To the best man and the best ten years a beautiful wife ever had” … We drink. We kiss. We toast … We drink. We kiss. We toast again… By seven o’clock the bottle is finished, my wife is sloshed and I’m completely toast… And then I smell the perfume. The perfume I could never resist… I loved her in that moment with as much passion and ardor as the night we were first newlyweds. We lay there spent, naked in each other’s arm, complete in our happiness. It’s now eight o’clock and outside it’s grown dark. Suddenly, a gentle knock on the door. The door opens and a strange young man looks down at us with a knife in his hands. Myra screams.  ( he begins to act out story.) I jump up and run for the gun in my drawer. Myra grabs a towel and shields herself. I rush back in with the pistol, ready to save my wife’s life. The strange young man says in Spanish , ” Yo quito se dablo enchilada por quesa in quinto minuto.” But I don’t speak Spanish and I never saw our maid Rosita’s son, Romero before, and I didn’t know the knife was to cut up the salad  and he was asking should they heat up dinner now? So I aimed my gun at him, Myra screams and pulls my arm. The gun goes off and shoots me in the earlobe. Rosita’s son, Romero, runs downstairs and tells Rosita and Ramona, “Mamasetta! Meela que paso el hombre ay baco ay yah. El hombre que loco, que bang-bang” -the crazy man took a shot at him. So, Rosita, Ramona, and Romero leave in a huff. My ear lobe is bleeding all over Myra’s new dress. Suddenly we hear a car pull up. It’s the first guests. Myra grabs a bathrobe and runs downstairs to stop Rosita, Ramona, and Romero, otherwise we’ll have no dinner. But they drive off. I look out the window, but it’s dark and I think someone is stealing my beautiful old  Mercedes, so I take another shot at them. Myra runs down to the basement, looking for the dress she wore last year. She can’t find the light, trips down the stairs, passes out in the dark. I run downstairs looking for Myra, notice the basement door is open and afraid the strange-looking kid is coming back, so I lock the door, not knowing Myra is still down there. Then I run upstairs to take some aspirin because my earlobe is killing me from the hole in it. But the blood on my fingers gets in my eyes and by mistake I take four Valium instead. I hear the guests downstairs and I want to tell them to look for Myra. But Suddenly, I can’t talk from the Valium, and I’m bleeding on the white rug. So I start to write a note explaining what happened, but the note look like gibberish. And I’m afraid they’ll think it was a suicide note and they’ll call the police, so I tore up the note and flushed it down the toilet, just as they walked into my room. They’re yelling at me, “What happened? What happened?” and before I could tell them what happened, I passed out on the bed. And that’s the whole story, as sure as my name is…( He opens his robe to expose the monogram “CB” on the pajamas)… Charley Brock.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s