*We open in the Boys' apartment. We hear the sound of nose-blowing, followed by a nasally moan. Slip wanders through the main room, wearing a robe and hauling a box of tissues.*
Sach: (He comes in carrying a grocery bag) Hi, Chief. Still honkin' like a goose?
Slip: *Sounds extremely congested* Shudup.
Sach: (Pulls out two large boxes of tissues) Here's more of the economy-sized Kleenexes you wanted. (Pulls out several glass bottles) An' I got you the cough medicine an' cold stuff you wanted. An' that stuff you rub on your chest. (He tries to open his shirt to rub it on.)
Slip: *Slaps at Sach's hand* I can do it!
Sach: You know, you'd get well a lot faster if you'd just try some of the stuff I've been makin' for ya.
Slip: I ain't tryin' nutin' that didn't come from a store.
Sach: But Chief, I've been perfectin' it! I'm gonna sell it an' make a lot of money.
Slip: Ya ain't tryin' it on me.
Sach: Who else can I try it on? No one else is sick!
Slip: *Turns as a coughing fit comes on* Too bad.
Sach: (Pounds on Slip's back) Careful, Slip. You could hack up a lung if ya keep doin' that!
Slip: *Loudly* Maybe it'll clear me out!
Sach: You need to be cleared out better n' that. (He brings a beaker of greenish fluid over.) Here. Try this.
Slip: *Backs off* Yech! Sach, I told ya, I ain't tryin' it!
Sach: Ok, ok. You ain't tryin' it. (He puts it back.) How about a game of Go Fish to cheer ya up instead?
Slip: No. *Flops onto the couch* Can't ya just lemme be miserable?
Sach: Ain’t my fault you hadda get sick on the night you were supposed to take Sally dancin'.
*Slip groans loud and long.*
Sach: Maybe we could watch somethin' on TV. How 'bout Lucy, or "I Remember Mama?"
Slip: *Lets out whiny sigh* Yeah, fine.
Sach: (Turns on the TV) Or we could see if wrestlin's on. You like that.
Slip: I don't care, Sach.
Sach: (Turns on wrestling) Want some popcorn? I'll put extra butter on, just the way you like it.
Slip: Ain't hungry.
Sach: How about a game, then? We could play Monopoly.
*Slip pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and pulls it over his head, groaning.*
Sach: Aw, Chiefy! I'm only tryin' to help you feel better!
Slip: *Throws the blanket back off* I'm not in the mood. *pauses* It's hot in here.
Sach: (Frowns) It don't seem hot in here to me.
Slip: I'm sweatin'.
Sach: (He runs over to the ice box) You need ice cream! (Leans in) We got peanut butter, vanilla, and I think Whitey left some of that fudge ripple....
*Slip groans long and low. He turns so he's hanging off the side of the couch.*
Sach: (Frowns and comes out of the ice box...and sees Slip's face) Uh oh. Your face is as green as the mold on that baloney sandwich I'm savin' for one of my experiments. (He grabs a bucket from under the sink and puts it under Slip) Here. That'll save what's left of the carpet.
Slip: *Coughs* Sach...
Sach: (Pounds Slip's back again) Come on, Chiefy. Cough it up.
Slip: Saaaaaach....
Sach: What? You'll never get better if you don't get some of this junk outta your system.
Slip: *Gasping* Yer knockin' what little wind I got left outta me!
Sach: You ain't gonna lose your lunch?
Slip: I dunno. *Groans* Move it! *jumps up, shoving Sach aside, and runs for the bathroom*
Sach: (Shakes his head) My poor Chiefy. I gotta help him. (He picks up the long vial-like spoon used for the cough medicine...then picks up his vial) Hmm. (Pours the content of the vial into the spoon cup.)
*Sach peeks into the bathroom. He finds Slip sitting on the floor with his forehead on his arm against the toilet. Slip moans.*
Sach: Here, take this. (Hands him the vial.) You'll feel better.
*Slip manages to get down the contents of the spoon cup, then groans again.*
Sach: Chief? How do ya feel now?
Slip: *Turns to Sach* Yucky.
Sach: You want me to get the bucket again? Or some more medicine?
Slip: *Slumps back and grins* You got a big nose.
Sach: So everyone always tells me. Got any new news?
Slip: Yer skinny, too.
Sach: Yeah, well, you're fat.
*Slip laughs and falls over.*
Sach: What's so funny? I'm just tellin' the truth!
Slip: *Suddenly stops laughing; small voice* Sach?
Sach: Yeah, Chiefy?
Slip: My tummy hurts.
Sach: Do you need some ginger ale?
*Slip nods.*
Sach: Ok. You stay right there. (He runs out to the kitchen, takes a bottle of ginger ale out of the icebox, and pours it into a glass. He hurries back to the bathroom.) Here you go, Chief. (Hands the cup to him.)
Slip: *Drinks it down, then...* Help me outta here?
Sach: Sure. (He puts his arm around Slip) Come on. Let's get you to your room, so you can rest before the others come home.
Slip: Do I gotta?
Sach: We could watch more wrestlin' until the other fellas get home from the double feature. Then you gotta get some rest.
Slip: Okay.
Slip: I'm cold.
Sach: First you're hot. Now you're cold. Make up your mind, Chief!
*Slip's lower lip starts to quiver.*
Sach: (Pats Slip's back) Aw come on, Chief. I didn't mean to yell at ya. Why don't we go in the livin' room an' watch TV?
Slip: *Quietly* Okay. Can I have a blanket?
Sach: Sure! (He grabs a blanket from Slip's bed) Here's your favorite old green one. (Grabs a stuffed octopus as well.) And Harry. You can't sleep without him.
Slip: Harry! *Squishes the octopus in a hug*
Sach: (He lays Slip down on the couch) Here ya go, Chief. (Turns on the TV.)
Slip: *Smiles* Thanks. *Tucks down into the blanket, with the octopus under his arm, and pops a thumb into his mouth*
Sach: (Grins) I haven't seen him do that in...months. (Scratches his head.) I wonder what got into him? He usually doesn't go to bed this fast, especially when he's sick. (Shrugs) Oh well. Let's see how Gorgeous George is doing. (He turns to the TV as we fade out.)