Congratulations Katie (Them are twins)

The stage is dawn. It is early.

There is a carnival booth front and middle--encompassing the entire stage. There shall be colored triangles adorning the top of this booth there; in an arcing fashion. This booth shall be a tawdry yellow. Aback the booth shall be a clothy-wall. Just afront this clothy-wall shall face the audience consecutive horizontal rows of suspended stuffed animals. Prizes along the wall shall range from short and fancy to high and mighty--fresh stank of Salmon. Perhaps an Aleutian Island or a grass skirt. Either way, a young man with a limp, dressed in tight jeans, a white t-shirt, with a pack of cigarettes rolled in a sleeve (the right), greased hair, black tooth, partially shaven, eyes...he enters with an astute limp from stage left. The static has faded. The birds are chirping. Somewhere Idaho is cuddling its yarn.

carny: (turning to audience with a bit of a flare...though still obviously impinged by the limp. He lights a cigarette and stares meaningfully into center audience. He points. Head tilting back. he let's off and laughs with a drawl but spastically. Wiping something from the audience he points again and stares agressively but seriously) "I bet you thought I was a WASP?! I bet you did didn't yeah!?" (laughs uproariously again...managing to still smoke. Throws the cigarette down in a fit. Peers out again with a stolid menacing gaze.) "What I know is fierce. And I tell you all about me. Cause I--Cause I--(inhales deeply and passionately) Cause I got the cure. And that aint for sale. No! That aint for no sale." (continues laughing to self...after some seconds stops laughing and pulls a chair to the edge of his tent, picks up what appears to be a large picture, and stares briefly and sniffles briefly...before developing sniffles into longing sobs. He shall cuddle this picture.)

A scrim shall fall before this set.

The man shall be silhoutted in the near distance aback the scrim having now stilled.

From stage left shall enter two tawdry stage-hands who shall place a rickety lectern at a slight angle toward the audience...the static shall briefly arrive to be distinguished by an abrupt PA imbalance--a loud blip. A man with a large array of disorganized sheets of paper shall rush to the lectern to throw the sheets down and grab the microphone attached atop and amid the lectern. This shall throw the feedback to a slight imbalance...to be interrupted by his heavy breathing

He shall continue filing through his sheets, sweating profusely, breathing erratically. He shall wipe the brow atop his head. Ultimately he shall cower away after a brief spell taking his sheets with him. The scrim, having turned solid, shall rise. The lectern shall remain in it's place among other lecturns, manequins, knights...and what is presumably the same photograph is somewhat spotlighted stage center, face-down. The set shall have been replaced by an equipment supply room. Dimly lit.

Lost chalk of an American president: Over the PA shall play some form of archival business briefing...perhaps a stock overview etc...it shall be scratchy...it shall fade into a discourse between a man and a woman. a cell phone conversation? Static shall prevail. A door shall open in the rear.