Tell-All

than gorging on even the richest European chocolate.” My beloved belched demurely into her fist, swallowed and said, “All women should taste your delicious emissions.” ’ ”
    The soft-focus, idealized Miss Kathie shuts her violet eyes and licks her lips.
    The fantasy couple kiss, then break their embrace.
    “ ‘Lowering her silken sensual legs with infinite care,’ ” I read in voice-over, “ ‘Katherine immersed her spattered thighs, her acclaimed pubis descending into the scalding clouds of iridescent white. The hot liquid lapped at her satiny buttocks, then splashed at her silken bustline. The misty vapors swirled, perfume filling the sultry bathroom air.’ ”
    My own voice continues, reading, “ ‘It was the year every other song on the radio was Mitzi Gaynor singing “On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe,” and a large RCA radio sat conveniently near the edge of the pink-marble bathtub, its dial tuned to play romantic ballads, and its sturdy electrical cord plugged into a convenient wall socket.’ ”
    We get an insert shot of said radio, balanced on the tub’s rim, so close that steam condenses in sweaty droplets on the radio’s wooden case.
    “ ‘In addition,’ ” continues my voice, “ ‘an attractive assortment of electric lamps, each equipped with subdued, pink-tinted bulbs, their flattering light filtered by beaded shades, these also stood around the rim of the luxurious bubble bath.’ ”
    A slow panning shot reveals a forest of lamps, short andtall, balanced on the wide rim of the oversize tub. A black tangle of power cords snake from the lamps to wall outlets. Many of these thick cords, almost pulsing with electric current, look frayed.
    “ ‘Sinking up to her slender neck in the fragrant foaming bubbles,’ ” continues the voice-over, “ ‘Katherine released a contented moan. At that moment of our inestimable happiness, playing the lovely Grand Waltz Brilliant by Frédéric Chopin , the radio slipped from its perilous perch. Just by accident, all the various lamps also tumbled, plunging deep into the inviting waters, poaching my beloved alive like an agonized, screaming, tortured egg.…’ ”
    On camera the perfumed foam boils, billowing, rising to mask the flashing, sizzling death scene. My voice reads, “ ‘The end.’ ”

ACT II, SCENE SEVEN
    We cut back to the auditorium of the lavish Broadway theater where a Japanese bomb explodes, blasting shrapnel into Yul Brynner in the role of Dwight D. Eisenhower . The USS Arizona lists starboard, threatening to capsize on Vera-Ellen singing the role of Eleanor Roosevelt . The USS West Virginia keels over on top of Neville Chamberlain and the League of Nations .
    As the Zeros strafe Ivor Novello , my Miss Kathie climbs to the foremast of the battleship, menaced by antiaircraft gunfire and Lionel Atwill , biting the pin of a hand grenade between her teeth. With a jerk of her head Miss Kathie pulls the pin, slingshotting her arm to fling the grenade, lobbing it too wide. The cast-iron pineapple narrowly misses Hirohito , and instead beans Romani Romani in the string section of the orchestra pit.
    From an audience seat, fifth row center, a voice screams,“Oh, stop, for fuck’s sake.” Lillian Hellman stands, brandishing a rolled copy of the score, slashing the air with it as if with a riding crop. Lilly screams, “Just stop!” She screams, “You’re giving aid and comfort to the enemy!”
    Onstage, the entire Japanese Imperial Army grinds to a silent halt. The dead sailors strewn across the deck of the USS Tennessee stand and twist their heads to stretch their stiff necks. Ensign Joe Taussig brings the USS Nevada back into port while Lilly hauls herself up onto the stage apron. Her spittle flashing in the footlights, she screams,
“Fouetté en tournant
when you throw the grenade, you stupid bitch!” To demonstrate, Hellman rises to stand, trembling on the point of one toe, then kicks her raised leg to rotate herself. Kicking and turning, she screams, “And go
all the way around
, not halfway.…”
    In the reverse angle, we see Terrence Terry and myself seated at the rear of the house, surrounded by an assortment of garment bags, hatboxes and unwanted infants. The house seats are otherwise empty. Terry speculates that Miss Kathie keeps botching the grenade throw intentionally. Her previous hand grenade slammed into Barbara Bel Geddes . The throw before that bounced off the thick skull of Hume Cronyn . If