going down

(JOHN stands at a counter. he is carrying luggage: a duffel bag or a briefcase. he wears a shirt and a tie. facing him, with polite smile always fixed firmly in place, is a TRAVEL AGENT)

JOHN: So everything's settled, then? You've got me booked on a different flight?
AGENT: Yes, Mr. Grabowski. You'll be boarding at Gate 6 in a couple minutes.
JOHN: (sighs in relief) That's great. Thanks.
AGENT: It's all part of our commitment to quality service here at Northwest Airlines.
JOHN: Look, ma'am, on a personal note...I'm sorry about our argument earlier. I shouldn't have been so angry. I know this job can be difficult sometimes, and I'm sure you just got mixed up. No hard feelings.
AGENT: I didn't get mixed up.
JOHN: What?
AGENT: London is in France. The fucking map is wrong, that's all. Someday I'll prove it.
JOHN: Okay, look, I don't want to start this again. I'll just be going...
AGENT: ...if you don't want to believe me, that's fine. You're the one who's about to be knee deep in snail shit. Gate 6 to your right. Thank you for flying Northwest!

(JOHN shrugs and walks to center stage, where four chairs are set up. he chooses one, sets his bag down, looks around, and smiles. the PILOT comes aboard)

PILOT: (shakes hands) Hi, there! Bob Morrison. I'll be your pilot.
JOHN: John Grabowski. Nice to meet you, Bob. Looks like a nice plane!
PILOT: Oh, she's a beaut, alright. Not as big as a 747 but twice the spirit.
JOHN: Yeah, I've got to say, I was expecting some big jet, not the deluxe treatment like this...
PILOT: Well, we all felt bad about you having to deal with Judy back there at the flight desk. Great girl, but she can be a real pain sometimes.
JOHN: (laughs) She did get pretty damn worked-up.
PILOT: Her entire family died of mad cow disease while visiting England. Really terrible. All their body parts fell off and turned green. Sometimes the body parts turned green before they fell off. Just awful stuff.
JOHN: (embarassed) Oh. Geez. I didn't know.
PILOT: Yeah, she had a hard time dealing with it. Blocked the entire country right out of her memory. Huge blank spot. We had her psychotherapist feed her that whole London/France line so she could keep working.
JOHN: Oh.
PILOT: Enjoy your flight.

(the PILOT leaves. JOHN sits down. the PRESIDENT enters, gives the cabin a once-over and then sits down. JOHN is looking bewildered at him the entire time)

PRESIDENT: Do you have the time?
JOHN: 7:30.
PRESIDENT: Thanks.
JOHN: Excuse me, ah...
PRESIDENT: Yes?
JOHN: You probably get this a lot, and I know it's kind of silly to ask, but...aren't you the President?
PRESIDENT: Yes, I am.
JOHN: Seriously?
PRESIDENT: You bet.
JOHN: (shakes his head) Yeah, right. If you're the president, why don't you have Secret Service people all around you?
PRESIDENT: I gave 'em the slip back at the luggage check-in. I want to surprise the prime minister so I'm going incognito. He's an old buddy of mine.
JOHN: Do you have some sort of ID?
PRESIDENT: (produces wallet) Here's my badge.
JOHN: (impressed) Checks out. Welcome aboard, Mr. President!
PRESIDENT: And you are?
JOHN: John. John Grabowski.
PRESIDENT: Nice to meet you, John.
JOHN: Wow! The President...wasn't expecting to run into you, that's for sure. Hey, aren't you afraid of...well, danger? I mean, you're traveling alone and unprotected...assassination attempts?
PRESIDENT: Not really. We've been doing some market research...focus group studies, you know...and our analysis clearly shows that today's teenagers consider assassination to be pretty passe as a form of political rebellion. Takes too much effort, implies that they're buying into the system by attempting to affect a specific area of its leadership structure...the situation today is that the real superstars have left the field and assassination just isn't catching on with the youth like it needs to if it's going to survive. Sure, you get the occasional retro-obsessed lone gunman, but let's face it, they're a dying breed. And hey, I don't see any grassy knolls on this airplane, so I think I'm safe. (laughs)
JOHN: (laughs) I guess you are. Say, can I ask you a personal question?
PRESIDENT: Go ahead.
JOHN: (confidentially) Why'd you do that whole...well, you know, the affair. Cheating on your wife. You've got to know that everybody's scrutinizing your every move...it just seems so obvious that you'd get caught and there'd be a mess.
PRESIDENT: Honestly, between the two of us...
JOHN: Yeah?
PRESIDENT: ABC, NBC, CBS, FOX, CNN, MSNBC, SASC - the Society for the Advancement of Shitty Comedians, Time-Warner, Disney and about a dozen other media conglomerates paid me thirty billion dollars to do it. They needed the ratings and the material for the really fucking lame jokes. Jay Leno alone threw in three million dollars out of his own pocket. I figured, what the hell? Everybody wins. Helps out the economy, gets me a secure place in the history books. I didn't want to end up like one of those sad bastard ex-presidents who no one remembers like Chester Arthur.
JOHN: Who?
PRESIDENT: Exactly my point. Let me tell you, I was talking to Gerald Ford the other day and he's really kicking himself over missing out on this. He's cooking up a transvestitism scandal, but I said, Jerry, the sun has set. It's over. Let it go. (shakes his head) Poor guy.
JOHN: That's a shame.
PRESIDENT: Yeah, well, them's the breaks.
JOHN: Hey, can you autograph my ticket? I want to show all my buddies that I was on a plane with the President.
PRESIDENT: No problem. (signs ticket) Here you go.
JOHN: Thanks!

(JOHN sits back and smiles. the PRESIDENT begins studying some documents. JOHN doesn't look up as the POPE enters. the POPE taps him politely on the shoulder)

POPE: (pointing to an empty seat) Pardon me, is this seat taken?
JOHN: Oh, no, go ahead.
POPE: Bless you.

(the POPE sits back. JOHN is puzzled)

JOHN: Why'd he say that? I didn't sneeze. (pauses, realization dawning) Excuse me...
POPE: Yes?
JOHN: (reluctant) Are you...
POPE: (smiles) Am I...
JOHN: Well, you're the pope, aren't you?
POPE: Yes, I am.
JOHN: Oh, my god! Er...oh, sorry...
POPE: It's quite alright. I get that all the time.
JOHN: I didn't mean to blaspheme...
POPE: I'm not God, but as His Living Message on Earth, I suppose I'm the next best thing. It's an easy mistake to make.
JOHN: (sheepish) I didn't actually think you were God, it's just a figure of speech, um...look, I've, ah, been a Catholic for a very significant portion of my life, church and all, sometimes, more often than not, really, if you don't count high school and college, and who does, you know, those aren't good times for faith...and, uh, when I miss Church these days, well, they always schedule business meetings for Sundays these days, it's all the rage in the corporate world...you know how it is, UPC symbols and the mark of the beast...I'm trying to live a decent and righteous life, sir.
POPE: I'm sure you are, my son. Bless you.
JOHN: What are you doing on Northwest Airlines, Your Eminence? Don't you have your own private jet?
POPE: Ah, you know. The bishops have been riding my ass lately about that whole vow of poverty thing, so I'm going back to my roots and flying coach.
PILOT: (over the intercom) This is your pilot speaking. We're about to get underway. Please fasten your seatbelts.

(everyone prepares for take-off)

PILOT: We have liftoff. You may now roam freely around the cabin.
JOHN: So...do you enjoy being the Pope? Is it fun?
POPE: Oh, it's alright. Ups and downs. It's the little things that make the job worth it.
JOHN: Like what?
POPE: Last time I flew somewhere, the in-flight movie was "Chairman of the Board".
JOHN: With Carrot-Top?
POPE: Yep. Terrible movie. When it was over, though, I watched the credits roll and sent everybody who was involved with it to hell, one by one. Director? Boom. Cinematographer? Boom. Best Boy? Boom. Eternal damnation, all of them. Great feeling.
JOHN: Hey, could you autograph my ticket? My mother would love it.
POPE: My pleasure. Who shall I make it out to?
JOHN: Mrs. Grabowski.
POPE: Grabowski? Is that Polish?
JOHN: Yeah.
POPE: Here you go.
JOHN: Thanks. (smiles) Wow, look at this ticket. My friends are never going to believe it. Thought I was going on a normal business trip, and now this. Thanks to a crazy travel agent, we're all flying together. An ordinary Joe like me and these guys. (pauses, chuckles) So, the President, the Pope, and a Polish guy are on an airplane...(stops) Wait a minute.

(a sputtering noise is heard over the intercom)

PILOT: We're developing engine trouble...
JOHN: Oh no.
PRESIDENT: What's wrong?
JOHN: We're going to crash!
PRESIDENT: No we're not. It's just routine engine trouble. Happens all the time.
JOHN: Don't you see? We're trapped in that one joke! The President, the Pope, and a Polish guy on an airplane, and it goes down! The plane goes down! Shit! Shit!
POPE: Be calm, my son. We can parachute out.
JOHN: But that's the punchline! The joke is designed to show how stupid I am because I'm Polish! I'm going to do something to mess up the parachutes, and then we're all going to die! Or I'll get left behind when you guys parachute out! Fuck!
PRESIDENT: John, we'll be fine. Haven't you heard of the Dawson Act?
JOHN: No, what is it?
PRESIDENT: Every vehicle, be it air or sea, is required to carry life preservation devices equal to triple the number of its passengers. I wrote and passed it after I saw "Titanic". I said to myself, "By god, I'll not let this happen again. Rose and Jack were meant for each other. We cannot leave this country's youthful romances at the mercy of the elements, especially the romances between beautiful yet restrained upper-class girls and scruffy charmers from the wrong side of the tracks, because those are the best ones." So don't worry. We have more than enough parachutes...
PILOT: Passengers, this is your captain speaking. You'll notice that all but two of your parachutes have been stolen and removed from the airplane. We had to leave those two behind because our arms were full.
PRESIDENT: Who are you?
PILOT: We are the Nova Scotia Liberation Army, and we have sabotaged your plane to strike a blow for freedom! Have a nice crash. I'm jumping out of the plane now. (he cheers as he falls)
PRESIDENT: Nova Scotia? What the hell was he talking about?
POPE: (holds up two backpacks) He was right. There are only two parachutes left.

(everyone stares at each other in silence)

PRESIDENT: Well, I think it's pretty clear...
POPE: Yep.
PRESIDENT: I mean, I'm the political leader of the free world, I need to survive.
POPE: And I'm the leader of one of the world's largest religions.
JOHN: I have, uh, late fees at the video store.
PRESIDENT: Sorry, kid.
POPE: Yeah, real shame.
PRESIDENT: If it makes you feel better, you'll probably go to heaven for such a noble sacrifice.
POPE: Actually, official Church theology still holds that good acts alone cannot earn salvation...
PRESIDENT: Pipe down. I'm trying to cheer the kid up.
POPE: Don't tell me to pipe down. I'll excommunicate you.
PRESIDENT: How can you kick me out if I'm not in the Church to start with?
POPE: Don't piss me off, pal. This pope's about to explode.
JOHN: Screw both of you! You're the ones who are supposed to be all noble and shit, but here you are, just covering your own asses! What the hell?
POPE: Don't take it personally.
PRESIDENT: Could be any random Polish guy.
JOHN: Wait! I haven't done anything stupid yet! The joke isn't over! You can't parachute out before the punchline comes!
PRESIDENT: Kid, you're grasping at straws. (pulls at door) Although I can't get the door open.
POPE: Pull harder.
PRESIDENT: Why don't you get your lazy ass ex cathedra and help me?
POPE: Why don't you slap a tariff on it, you useless lame duck figurehead?
PRESIDENT: You take that back.
POPE: Oh, we know who runs the show in America. The aliens were in touch with the Vatican too, sucker.
PRESIDENT: I'll bomb you.
POPE: Bring it.
PRESIDENT: Look, John, will you please deliver the damn punchline so we can get out of here?
JOHN: No!
POPE: Be reasonable, John.
JOHN: Maybe this is a joke written by a Polish comedian! Maybe he's trying to show that Polish people are actually smart!
POPE: John, I am God's Living Message on Earth. I think I know a thing or two about comedy. Smart Polish people aren't funny. Audiences don't go for it. Polacks always mess up in the end.
PRESIDENT: Just do something stupid, John. And hurry up.
JOHN: I bet I know what the punchline is. It's that I'm a sap for believing you guys weren't out to screw your fellow man like everyone else.
POPE: (pauses, shakes his head) No, that's not it.
PRESIDENT: Market research trends show that wounded sincerity was last year's thing. Try again. Think simple. Like...have you ever worked in an M&M factory and thought the ones that said 'W' were defective?
POPE: That's a blonde joke. Ah...I've got it! Hey John, want to buy an inflatable dartboard?
JOHN: Why would I want to do that? It'll pop when I throw the sharp darts at it.
POPE: Yes, but since you're Polish, you don't know that.
JOHN: But I do.
POPE: God says you don't. I just talked to Him. God says do what I tell you to do. Come on. Offer to exchange a parachute for an inflatable dartboard.
JOHN: (sighs) Fine. I don't care anymore. Yes, pope, I want your inflatable dartboard. I think it would be a good idea to have an inflatable dartboard because I am a dumb Polish guy.
PRESIDENT: The door's open!
POPE: Let's go!

(they both put on backpacks and leap, whooping happily. JOHN is alone)

JOHN: Well, that's that. I should come up with some poetic last words...but what's the point? There's no one to hear me.

(the TRAVEL AGENT crawls onstage. once there, she stands)

AGENT: Hi there.
JOHN: What are you doing here?
AGENT: I've always wanted to see Europe, so I stowed away in the luggage bin.
JOHN: You picked a bad day for it. The plane's going to crash.
AGENT: That's okay. I've got two parachutes.
JOHN: I thought the Pope and the President got the last two.
AGENT: Nope. By the provisions of the Dawson Act, section C line 46, travel agents are legally required to withhold preservation devices from all persons not part of a star-crossed pair of young lovers if such a pair exists on the vehicle in question.
JOHN: So what were they wearing when they jumped?
AGENT: Bricks.
JOHN: Why were there bricks on board an airplane?
AGENT: Don't ask me. Those Nova Scotia Liberationists are nuts.
JOHN: No argument here.
AGENT: Shall we?
JOHN: Shall we what?
AGENT: Become star-crossed lovers?
JOHN: I love you.
AGENT: I love you too. Will you show me London?
JOHN: Maybe we should try Paris.
AGENT: Do you really want to go all the way to Russia?
JOHN: Forget it. New Jersey's pretty good too.


going down by marc heiden september 1999