(Bishop and Phyllis have been watching her. Popo turns to Bishop and addresses him. As they speak, Phyllis recedes, but does not exit.)
I’m Popo Martin. You can call me Popo Martin.
BISHOP: Yeah so and.
POPO (Holding out a potholder): Look what I made!
BISHOP: It’s a square of fabric.
POPO (Proud): It’s a potholder!
BISHOP: Mmmmmm.
POPO: Don’t you think it’s beautiful?
BISHOP: No.
POPO: I do! I think it’s the most beautiful one I’ve made yet! I’ve made thirty-seven potholders. Thirty-seven potholders and twenty-two ashtrays—which is odd, because they won’t let you cook here, or smoke cigarettes. Do I seem cheerful to you?
BISHOP: Grossly.
POPO: I hate you.
BISHOP: What are you doing here?
POPO: I wanted to show you my potholder. I noticed you. You go after me, to see Dr. Nestor. (She holds a potholder over each eye) Look, look! I’m Kitty Carlisle!
PHYLLIS: She’s an idiot Bishop.
BISHOP: You’re an idiot.
POPO: You said something negative. So I didn’t hear it. I tried to kill myself.
BISHOP: Try, try again, I always say.
POPO: Why are you here?
BISHOP: This is my room.
POPO: You look familiar. I know! You’re that person who was on that desert island! You killed your parents! I saw you on Geraldo! You look thinner in person.
BISHOP: That wasn’t me.
POPO: Can I have your autograph? Can I have your child? You’re like a movie star. You look so much thinner. Wait till everyone hears that I know you! Could I kiss you?
PHYLLIS: Bishop!
BISHOP: No.
POPO: Could I? You can put your hands on my breasts.
PHYLLIS: Bishop!
POPO: You can tie me up if you want. You can fuck me if you want!
PHYLLIS: Bishop!
POPO: Bishop?
NESTOR: Bishop!
BISHOP: What?!
(Bishop leaves Popo, who returns to the cot. He joins Nestor at the desk. Phyllis follows.)
NESTOR: How are you today?
BISHOP: You tell me.
NESTOR: You tell me.
BISHOP: Don’t start.
NESTOR: Tell me about the island.
BISHOP: Well there was the Skipper and the Professor and Mary Ann and a millionaire and his wife—
NESTOR: You were alone with your mother.
BISHOP: Yes.
NESTOR: How did you feel about that?
PHYLLIS: Tell him nothing.
NESTOR: Did you care for your mother?
BISHOP: You tell me—
NESTOR: I can’t.
BISHOP: Too bad.
NESTOR: What was she like?
PHYLLIS: Was?
BISHOP: You mean “is” she like.
NESTOR: All right.
BISHOP: She’s beautiful.
PHYLLIS: Thank you.
NESTOR: All right.
BISHOP: She loves me.
PHYLLIS: That’s enough.
NESTOR: Do you love her?
PHYLLIS (Warning): Bishop.
BISHOP: Why?
NESTOR: Do you, believe, Bishop, that it’s possible to love someone, to care for them and still hurt them?
BISHOP: I don’t know.
NESTOR: You don’t know?
BISHOP: It’s too abstract.
POPO (On the cot, doodling his name): Bishop Hogan.
NESTOR: Do you think I want to hurt you?
PHYLLIS: Yes.
NESTOR: Do you think I care about you?
BISHOP: No.
NESTOR: Why not?
PHYLLIS: He’s insane. You’re fine.
BISHOP: Why would you?
NESTOR: Why wouldn’t I?
BISHOP: I asked you first.
NESTOR: I asked you last.
BISHOP: You’re insane.
NESTOR: You’re a dick.
BISHOP: Fuckhead!
NESTOR: Asshole!
BISHOP: Dipshit!
NESTOR: Moron!
BISHOP: Spitbrain!
NESTOR: Crapnoodle!
PHYLLIS: This is absurd!
BISHOP (To Phyllis, who is stopping his fun): Leave me alone.
PHYLLIS: Bishop!
BISHOP: I’m sorry. (To Nestor) Fuck you!
PHYLLIS: Atta boy!
POPO (Still on the cot, writing a letter): Dear Mom and Dad. Everything is great. I love it here. The food is really good and the weather is beautiful. The sun is always out and I can hear birds from the window of my room. The nurses are really nice and I am organizing a cheerleading squad of delusionary schizophrenics—but really they are just nice people who hear voices coming from inanimate objects. I think they do very well, considering the amount of Phenobarbital they get pumped into them. I make really pretty potholders and ashtrays in workshop. I will make someone a great wife one day, assuming I cook and he smokes. On that subject, I have met the coolest guy. His name is Bishop Hogan. Maybe you heard of him. He’s famous. He killed his parents. And some other people, I think. He’s been on TV. But he’s thinner in person. You’d like him. I can’t wait for you to meet him. If you overlook the fact that he’s delusionary, and that he butchered his parents and ate them, he’s a fine catch. Love, Popo Martin.
NESTOR: Bishop.
BISHOP: What?
NESTOR: You killed a young woman.
BISHOP: Did I?
NESTOR: Didn’t you?
BISHOP: You tell me.
NESTOR: You did.
BISHOP: If you say so.
NESTOR: I do.
BISHOP: Fine.
NESTOR: How did it feel?
BISHOP: I don’t remember.
NESTOR: How it felt?
BISHOP: Anything.
NESTOR: What?
BISHOP: I have amnesia.
NESTOR: I see. And how did this happen?
BISHOP: I guess I took a bump on the head.
NESTOR: You guess?
BISHOP: I can’t remember.
NESTOR: I see.
BISHOP: Sorry.
NESTOR: You remember this morning?
BISHOP: Nope.
NESTOR: Your mother?
BISHOP: No.
NESTOR: Your father?
BISHOP: No!
NESTOR: The island?
BISHOP: NO!
NESTOR: Your name?
BISHOP: NO!
NESTOR: CUT THE CRAP!
BISHOP: What?
NESTOR: You remember everything! You insignificant little slime! I know it! And you know it! You remember!
BISHOP: I don’t!
NESTOR: Listen to me. You’ll do as I say you little bastard. Or else! You will stay here in this hospital with paper slippers, soiled sheets and jello three times a day! You will stay here forever. We
