Scene 12
George Foreman is sparring in the Presidential compound / there are arm’d guards / lizards hang from the ceiling / Archie Moore is talking from the ropes / Dick Sandler is watching on
Archie Moore
George, George, cut off the ring, give him no time
To dance, no space to run, & push him deep
To the corners, if he goes to his right
Throw him a left, if he goes to his left
Give him a right – George, nullify his legs
Knock him down, go champ, go, turning the ring
Into his killing floor, harder, George, hard..
Foreman attacks his sparring partner who throws his elbows up in self defence / Foreman rushes in & is struck – opens up a gash
Sparring partner
Wait, stop, stop,
George Foreman
What is it
Sparring Partner
George Foreman
Your eye, its bleeding
George Foreman
What
Archie Moore
Oh no
Sparring Partner
I’m sorry man
Dick Sandler
{getting into the ring}
Here let me take a look at that
Hey Archie
Archie Moore
Yeah
Dick Sandler
A butterfly bandage
There’s some in my bag – go & get me one
George Foreman
Whats happening
Dick Sandler
You got a gash, George
Its deep
Sparring P\rtner
Shit, man, didn’t mean to hurt ya
George Foreman
No sweat brother, such accidents happen
Archie Moore
Here you go
Dick Sandler
I’ll have to be honest, here
George Foreman
What
Dick Sandler
You ain’t gonna be fighting next week
Or the week after, or, after that too
This needs at least a month, six weeks, perhaps
Of healing nutriment
George Foreman
You are joking
Right?
Archie Moore
Sorry, this is really happening
Experto credite, that’s quite a cut,
If that gets open’d up, you’ll lose the fight
George Foreman
Aw man – this is a downright disaster
Dick Sandler
Somebody gonna have to break the news
This man is cut & this man cannot fight
Archie Moore
I guess that will be me – I’m make some calls
Archie Moore leaves the ring
Dick Sandler
Will you stand still George, I need to stitch you
Can someone get me too a little ice
Sparring Partner
I will
George Foreman
Another six weeks in this dump
When all I want’s a decent cheeseburger
But maybe this is just a sign from God
The time has come for us all to go home
Dick Sandler
Maybe, maybe, there – that’s that wrapp’d up – ice
Sparring Partner
Here you go – I can’t believe I did this
George Foreman
Like I said buddy, its fine, everything
Happens for a reason – well I wonder
What Cassius is gonna say about this
Dick Sandler
With his loud mouth we’ll hear it soon enough
SCENE 13
Belinda is sat at a table reading a magazine/ enter Muhammad Ali
MA
How ya doing baby
Belinda
I miss the kids
MA
Well, why don’t you fly back home to the States
Belinda
Its fine, you need me her, My ma & pa
They got this, I just miss ‘em really bad
MA
Are you sure you won’t feel better back home
Belinda
Ali, you are my husband, I’m your wife
The most important fight of your whole life
Just days away, I need to keep close by
To offer love, support, as good wives do
As when Khadija shar’d the Prophet’s trials
MA
Belinda
Belinda
Yeah
MA
I do love you, yknow
Belinda
I know, baby
Enter Bundini Brown
Bundini Brown
Ali, Ali, Ali
MA
What is it – you look stress’d
Bundini Brown
I got some new
& it ain’t good
MA
Hit me
Bundini Brown
This gig gone wild
MA
Just tell me what the hell is going on
Bundini Brown
Foreman’s cut
MA
Say what
Bundini Brown
He’s been cut sparring
MA
&
Bundini Brown
It’s pretty deep, they say he can’t fight
For six weeks
MA
Six weeks!
Bundini Brown
Yep
MA
Ya kidding
Bundini Brown
Nope
MA
Where’s the cut
Bundini Brown
Just here, above his right eye
MA
Can’t he wear some kind of headgear or something
Bundini Brown
That ain’t gonna work my brother
MA
Aw man!
I was all set to defeat that big, bad
Indestructible George Foreman, all set,
Then the fool goes & gets himself cut up
The whole world was gonna bow before me
The morning after the fight, now my dreams
Are all mess’d up for another six weeks
Maybe he gone done it upon purpose
Maybe he was simply too scared to fight me
Bundini Brown
It was an accident of genuine
Origins – George is gutted – it’s God’s work
MA
God’s work! God’s work! Well, whatever it is,
It’s worse than rain stopping the World Series,
In truth I’ve had my fill of Africa
Let’s move this fight back to the USA
I’m tired of worrying about my food
Let only bottl’d water purse my thirst
I miss ice-cream & snowcones – yes, let’s move
The fight to the L.A. Coliseum
Or to Houston’s eighth wonder of the world
The Astrodome, epic enough, I think
They have seen plenty of us over here
In Africa – it’s time to angle home
Bundini Brown
I do not think that decision is yours
Mobuto’s soldiers are on full alert
& all the airports in the land are seal’d
He’s afraid you two are going to bolt
Brother, I believe it most unwise
If you were to try & leave the country
MA
Aw man
Belinda
The global repercussions seem immense
What about all of those people
Right now east flying over Atlantic
To play the festival & watch the fight
The biggest event since the Prophet’s birth
About to be beam’d across the planet
The cameras are here, the technicians
The tickets are sold out across the world
From Mexico to China & England
MA
That’s lots of money to be refunded
Bundini Brown
It is what it is – people are people
& you are Ali – they will all be back
MA
This is all just a massive & twisted mess
But what about Joe Frazier – I’ll fight him
Fly him out here – give him a million
I’ll be happy with three
Bundini Brown
Ali, listen
That ain’t gonna work – you’re not contracted
To fight Frazier, especially with no
Top-level training – let’s face it
You ain’t going anywhere for six weeks
Six more weeks of training – I’ve work’d hardest
In all my life to get in shape for this
Belinda
It’s not just that, it’s another six weeks
Without our babies
Ali pauses – the dawn of realisation he can spend time with Veronica
MA
Now you should go home
Belinda
You’re right, baby, I’ll come back for the fight
MA
Of course, you know all this will be God’s work
When Allah places paths beneath our feet
However strange the underfoot might be
They must be walk’d else shirk our destiny
Bundini Brown
If you’d have fought this week, well something bad
Might have happen’d
MA
Yeah, maybe you are right
I fight for God above everything else
As he plans everything, all things happen
For reasons only he will understand
Bundini Brown
You’ll just have to make the best of it man
MA
You’re right brother
Bundini Brown
There’ll be a lot of press
Buzzing about outside – wanna see them
MA
Yeah – let’s do this – another six weeks – man!
Bundini Brown
Why don’t you go get wash’d up & ready
MA
Yeah – then I’m gonna tell them George still gonna
Get his whuppin, but we’ll all have to wait
Boy, I was so ready, I was gonna
Upset the world again
Bundini Brown
Brother you will
In six short weeks that title will be yours
MA
Six weeks – aw man!
Scene 14
On the banks of the Congo River / it is night / enter Muhammad Ali & Veronica Porsche
MA
Tis wonderful you came to me, again
Upon this special night, I’ve realis’d
How fragile & how precious are our lives
We must be mindful that every day
A gift from God that’s any moment lost
On seeing you, in all my days to come
I’d like to see you in them, so dazzling
Is your presence, Veronica, thank-you
Veronica Porsche
Your importune persistence defeats me
Even to meet at these unearthly hours
MA
Unearthly, yes, for then most heavenly
Is this planet’s vigour, when shine the stars
& moon is large, upon its long journey
Beyond it’s arc’d meridian, among
The circling & extending canopy
Of night’s enshaded realm, the world asleep
Three in the morning, on the silent banks
Of this river, like a nerve of those Gods
Which still are worship’d in these pagan lands,
By night all streams are liquid ebony
But still I know this is the Congo stream
Just by the calmest of her many moods
From Zambian source, across Equator
She epic curves, while draining all Zaire
Cascades & gorges roar, while waterfalls
Sparkle like gems in lazy jungles dense
Veronica Porsche
Those lights on yonder banks, whose are their homes
MA
Belong they to the brights of Brazzaville
Veronica Porsche
What are those sounds, that sweet cacophony
MA
These are young frogs croaking in symphony
Veronica, look up, opacous night
Is powdering a sapphire firmament
A vision that satisfies perfectly
My pastoral anxiety for stars
Scattering gold dust from vast distance suns
For we are there among them, you & I
Veronica Porsche
This is all very romantic, Ali
Fly wooings of Clark Gable
MA
Dark Gable
Veronica Porsche
Hah!
MA
Are you coming to the festival
We could stand by the stage & watch James Brown
Belinda won’t be there
Veronica Porsche
Why, where is she
MA
She flew back to America last night
Veronica Porsche
Even so, I will not be attending
This concert’s not a part of my contract
& I never go to nightclubs back home
Or parties, I prefer to not show off
MA
Yet you’re out here wearing those bikinis
Veronica Porsche
Not any more
MA
Feel better about it
Veronica Porsche
Yeah – a lot – thank-you for having a word
MA
Twas a necessary intervention
Veronica Porsche
It is wonderful here in Africa
As if all things a unique story keeps
Repositories of ancient digest
The spiders, the wind, the leaves, the silence
The single yellow birds of good omens
The inexplicable impregnations
Of overabundance in centuries
The long celebrations & the chaos
I feel it all, & know all the stories
Somehow
MA
It is this river, which carries
Wisdom on endless journeys to the seas
Which renders me stronger as days go by
But same, same days, another six weeks
At first I was upset but now I know
God was at work, you see it gives us time
Veronica Porsche
What
MA
Time – it gives us time to get to know
Each other – girl, I am so excited
To just be with you, to learn all your tricks
You’re such a wonderful person to know
Like a delicate flower, fragile, soft
I want to hold you but dare not touch you
& me, what do you think of me, I hope…
Veronica Porsche
Well, you are the young, handsome, champion
Of the world, charismatically cool
But now I’ve seen your sweet & tender side
I cannot help but want to know you more
Especially the parts of you most real
Like when you stood up for what you believ’d
With one hundred percent sincerity,
The love & the belief you emanate
Is real, everybody feels it, but I
Know it now – tis a strange understanding
Some call it empathy, but there is more
To what I feel than that
MA
Impressions fair!
Upon my stolen heart thy medal hangs
& I am scar’d of you
Veronica Porsche
You’re scar’d of me
But why
MA
You’re tall, you’re pretty, you’re perfect
You’re all I’m looking for & ever have
O, please, just kiss me, will you
Veronica Porsche
What
MA
Kiss me
Just kiss me, please, it’s driving me crazy
They kiss
MA
Thy lips, so soft, could be a sparrow’s bed
Thy kiss of peace, could empires turn from war
Veronica Porsche
It was kinda nice, yeah
MA
Well, another
Veronica Porsche
Another?
MA
Yes, let’s mingle lips once more
They kiss again
MA
Graceful, classy, sweet & intelligent
Thou art the great demolisher of men
As ye slid thy sinuous arms around
My trembling form, planted maddening lips
At the altar of Nature’s renewal
Thy loveliness like cherry blossom grew
About me with the certainty of Spring
You felt it, surely, too
Veronica Porsche
I felt something
But with a major flaw – your married state
Prevents me from believing this is real
MA
The moment I saw you chang’d my status
I cannot be with Belinda no more
You are now the commandant of my soul
& are my one true wife
Veronica Porsche
I am, am I?
But surely I might get a say in that
MA
Thro’ my heart’s palace thoughts embroider’d throng
Attended by maidens crown’d with lilies
Unveiling floral bannerage, which reads;
‘Veronica Porsche, will you marry me?’
For you are what I need & crave the most
Under thy touch learn who I really am
Full of absolute truth for you, I’m trapp’d
By you, my darling, & I think it’s love
That love the net that catches hearts like fish
That love, alone, capable of joining
People with a purpose to fulfill them
For it joins what is deepest in themselves
There’s depths to all of us that only love
Finds easily as zephyrs rustle leaves
Uniting living dreams, Veronica!
If lusty love goes in quest of beauty
Where should I find love fairer than in thee
If zealous love goes in search of virtue
Where should I find it purer than with thee
I’m only a nanosecond away
From combusting in flames as leaning in
To kiss those lips… ah! My heart has exploded
& I am by love slain, my murderer!
The only way to restore me to life
Is to be my wife – well, what do you say?
Veronica Porsche
People look for miracles, for wonders
They look for wild surprises of all kinds
Yet – the greatest miracles, surprises
The greatest wonders only ever found
Inside our hearts, where somehow, now, I know
You’re all I want & all I’ll ever need
Imparadis’d in one another’s arms
All time’s forgotten, seasons & their change
All please alike – you are the velvet dew
That makes the grapes taste sweet, & gaze on you
With jubilance increasing
MA
As I you
Who loves you more than swallows love the south
Who loves you more than… OW! What’s that! You fiend!
Muhammad Ali slaps a mosquito
MA
Trust the mosquitoes to sully the trance
Hey – let’s get out of here – I’ve book’d a room
Somewhere a little more comfortable
Where bloody bugs debarr’d from ruination
Veronica Porsche
How could you be so sure I’d want to come
MA
I’ve never been so sure of anything
In all my life, you will come, won’t you, please
Veronica Porsche
OK, OK, I’ll come
MA
Alright ! Let’s go…
{they begin exiting}
I don’t want you to go back to college
To meet some other fellow, marry me
I’m about to make five million bucks
I’ll make it my last fight, lets see the world
Veronica
Look at you, peacocking your millions
I don’t care about money – I just want
Happiness
MA
I’m gonna make you happy
Happiest woman in the whole, wide world
I’ll be the champion of happiness
I’ll win the title of the Happy King
As soon as I whup George
Veronica Porsche
Shut up! Come on
Exeunt
Scene 15
The 20th May Stadium / Lloyd Price is stood with two workers & a camera crew / enter Don King
Lloyd Price
Hey Don – just heard about the postponement
How are ya feeling
Don King
Not my liveliest
Adversity is ugly, like a toad
But wears a precious stone upon its head
& tonight I shall look upon the stars
Gracing this stage & ranging oer their heads
Observe the leap between the colossal
& supercolossal, & understand
So shall the Rumble be, who’ll escalate
The possibles of immortality
But that’s the fight, & first the thrill of song
Lloyd, my man, how is it all going here
Lloyd Price
Well, we have just stopped a major problem
After learning belatedly Zaire’s
Electricity runs two-twenty volts
Not the one-ten of American gear
We luckily discover’d two well-made
Generators donated to Zaire
By an agency from the USA
For International Development
That are little used to the voltage
Disparity
Don King
So they are working, then
Lloyd Price
Sweetly, brother, & the acoustics, man
This stadium’s got natural reverb
It’s gonna drip like honey in the ears
Don King
So what’s all this commotion
Lloyd Price
That’s for the stage
It’s not quite ready, yet, but it will be
The crew are good – & quick – soon as we’re done
They gotta sail the gear to Istanbul
& join the Rolling Stones on their world tour
Don King
Brother, I recognise a friend in thee
Appreciate your time & expertise
& nourish you with love for all you do
Without your strength this concert would not be
Without thy guidance neither would it float
Lloyd Price
How’s the ticket sales
Don King
Rotten, to be fair
The cheapest, despite only three dollars
Still hefty pric’d for those who daily make
A handful of cents as do most folk here
All those who can afford them ain’t coming
An awkward side-effect of Foreman’s cut
Lloyd Price
Man, all this work to perform to a morgue
Performances to audiences need
Energiz’d, the Coriolis Effect
Of concertry, when dramas are exchang’d
So – why don’t you give the tickets away
Don King
Give them away! but we need to claw back
‘Bout two & a half million dollars
Realistically by the live gate alone
There’s the film, of course, but that will take time
& even more money
Lloyd Price
Make the film good
Nobody wants to look at empty seats
Don King
You’re right, I’ll offer via radio
Free tickets as a Kinshashsan thank-you
To the people of Zaire
Lloyd Price
Anyone
Who already bought a concert ticket
Move up to the front to make ‘em special
Then fill sparse stands with dancers, what a vibe
I have always enjoy’d myself better
When spending nothing on a wealth of fun
Don King
Well there we go, the film’s our destiny
Document this incredible moment
In the long history of the Black Man
To chronicle the passage of the beat
Thro’ all its evolutionary bars
& play some grooves to make the grown man cry
Lloyd Price
From hesitance to bombast in a flash
Your confidence amazes me sometimes
Don King
This is my credo, this is my forte
I dare to be great, for the man rais’d up
Without imagination hath no wings
& must fall heavily to level ground
The Black Man left Africa in shackles
& fetters & chains, but is coming back
With auras of scintillating glory
Deities of music, Gods of the Ring
Together fashion’d by mine own daring
So intermingl’d & so intertwin’d
They’ve fus’d into a single entity
Thus have we commitments spiritual
To carry on with this fair festival
The best musicians ever assembl’d
In single cause, no casual mingling
Of stars, but a sacred constellation
Fashion’d, with love, by universal flames,
The greatest night of song that ever was!
Camera Crew Director
Cut – oh wow – that was some speech Mister King
Don King
You were filming
Camera Crew Director
Yeah
Don King
Well keep on rolling
Posterity will bless us for the deed
I feel I am communing with the spirits
Of my forebears, true ebbuliency
Shoots thro me, to describe such eloquent scenes
Is the high point of my life, excitement
Shines, I will see you tonight, & good luck
Lloyd Price
I got this brother, it’s gonna be wild
Participating in this situation
With our black brothers & our black sisters
Its the most important time of my life
Don King
I hear you brother, come here
They embrace
Lloyd Price
I love you Don
Scene 16
May 20th Stadium – the concert is in full swing with African drummers & dancers in animal costumes – enter Lloyd Price
MC
Ladies & gentlemen, right about here
I want you to get yourselves together
I want you to get your souls together
This man gonna make you liver quiver
This man gonna your bladder splatter
This man is gonna make you freeze your knees
If you please, lets give it up, give it out
Lets welcome the world’s Godfather of Soul
Soul Brother Number One – James Brown – JAMES BROWN
Enter a shirtless James Brown
James Brown
I ain’t got much to say – the only thing
I gotta say – been a long time coming
Its cold-blooded, but it’s all been here
& remember that as long as you live
Papa don’t take no rest, no way, let’s play,
I’m gonna make me some soul music man
Right now we’d like to do some of the tunes
& create a sound call’d the James Brown Sound
& this is the way it goes – one bright day
A fella walk’d up to me & said james
Play some of your old tunes – I said what man,
He said play them, those oldies but goodies
I said don’t bury me while I yet live
He said brother, play the best of James Brown
I said how can I play the best of me
When the best of James Brown is yet to come
I got ants in my pants, I gotta dance
When I say hit it, hit it, when I say
Quit it, quit it – a one-two-three-four- huh
SOUL BROTHER NUMBER ONE
I’m a soul brother
(huh – tell it like it is)
I got soul power
In the music mysteries
Feel fine,
Mighty good
Passin’ time in
My neighbourhood
Music makes me dance
I’m a soul brother
(huh – tell it like it is)
I got soul power
For the music symphonies
Feel fine,
Mighty good
On the vines in
My neighbourhood
Music wakes me
Music shakes me
Music takes me home
Ah do it to death
Play it, play it
I wanna get up & do my thing
I need to get up & do my thing
Moving, moving
I wanna get into it
(yeahs from the crowd every time)
Can I get into it
I mean moving it, doing it
We’re gonna have a funky good time
Huh – gonna take the high road
We’re gonna have a funky good time
We’re gonna take yer higher, higher
We’re gonna have a funky good time
Natural & African high
We’re gonna have a funky good time
Everybody get high
We got what you want, what you need (repeat)
Scene 17
The Intercontinental Hotel, Kinshasa – the journalists are gather’d around the pool
Budd Schulberg
Fifty days, seven weeks & a day, wow!
Waiting, waiting, waiting, & in what heat
Deliciously languorous Inaction
& food & flies & feasts of Africa
How goes you own time in Kinshasa, George
George Plimpton
I find the majority of Zaire
Has all of the appeal of a Greyhound
Station in Easton, Pennsylvania
But, as long as Sports Illustrated pay
What they pay to chronicle my visit
I’ll dally here with the migrating birds
Norman Mailer
I have never known a moment like it
Pois’d at the heart of the Black Renaissance
Mobuto playing the Medici part
Howard Cossel
More Stalin than Medici, I have seen
One of his torture chambers, thankfully
Nobody being tortur’d, but the floor
Was stain’d & sticky with pools of black blood
Before the fight was first postpon’d, he had
Rounded up oer a thousand criminals
& decimate them as if in Rome
A century of random senseless deaths
Slain arbitrarily, but boy it work’d
Crime in Kinshasa’s plummeted, they say
Budd Schulberg
I saw pickpockets three weeks ago,
In the city square, hanging from a tree
George Plimpton
Do not forget despotic reputation
For executing former friends and colleagues
In front of huge crowds, in case anyone else
Should dare challenge his role as Zaire’s ‘boss,’
While all the petty chieftans cross the land
Offer up their primose virgins, thinking
Great honour’s steep’d upon the deflower
Budd Schulberg
I heard, in order to humiliate
Caninet ministers he sleeps with their wives
Extracts their secrets thro the pillow talk
Budd Schulberg
Hah – the munificence of Mobutu
Civic devotion & ruthless murders
He’s a corrupt, homicidal tyrant
Whose pageantry & theater shifts minds
From focussing on fair revolution
Norman Mailer
Fair, it’s fair to say that he’s converted
A dump to a first-class facility
His stadium rivals anywhere seen
In all of the world’s develop’d nations
Whose billions of eyes will witness soon
The most imperishable boxing bout
To be remember’d by the scourge of time
It’s actors fascinate me, one fighter
Mute as mist, the other never shuts up
Between them both, the bigger blabbermouth
With torchflame mullet, the jailhouse Barnum
The vulgar Machiavelli, Don King
Screwing over every poor newt who falls
Under his snake-eye con tricks, open fang’d
Howard Cossel
Don’t forget the endless cast of extras
For example, what’s with Ali’s entourage?
Like asteroids caught in a solar spin
It teems with low-life scum from the ghettos
Horrendous collection of hypocrites
& hustlers, every one with grubby hands
Fumbling in his pockets with clumsy thumbs
Some medieval court, where farriers
Mingle with astrologers – let me see
There’s Luis Sarria, Ali’s masseuse
His personal heavy, Pat Patterson
He’s even got a guy employ’d to read
The Guiness Book of Records – kid you nay
George Plimpton
I’ve heard that he has been messing about
With one of the poster girls
Howard Cossel
Who
George Plimpton
Ali
Norman Mailer
Well, he’s the nuggets hoodlum of them all
To face the greatest challenge of one’s life
Without being focus’d to fullest strain
Is sheer stupidity
Budd Schulberg
I have seen her
I’d be distracted if I was the Pope
Or even Mother Teresa – she’s hot
George Plimpton
Who, Mother Teresa
Budd Schulberg
No, Veronica
Wise guy, Veronica Porsche, that’s her name
Norman Mailer
Well, whoever she is, she’s one more nail
In the coffin of Muhammad Ali
In which George Foreman soon shall lay his corpse
What he did to Frazier in Jamaica
The greatest boxer of the world by right
Who’d left hook had clipp’d the butterfly’s wings
Reduc’d to sniffling pygmy, his victor
Towering like some gigantic titan
Menacing, majestic, made of iron
While Ali’s all wash’d up, one would expect
As goes the hierarchical laws of war
Howard Cossell
Yes, he is one surly son of a bitch
Without an ounce of personality
&, the time may have come to say goodbye
To Cassius, I mean Muhammad Ali
Because, very honestly, I don’t see
In any way how he’d ever beat George
George Plimpton
It is surely to be a sad morning
Norman Mailer
But anything might happen in Zaire
Where unpredictable’s predictable
I think Ali’s got something up his sleeve
Howard Cossel
Like what, a deck of cards, that trick won’t help
His face when Foreman pounds it into mush
Norman Mailer
I’m either very right or very wrong
But there is something burning in Ali
Out here in Africa, that just might fill
His being with heroic magnitudes
Enter Hunter S Thompson carrying elephant trunks
HST
Hello gentlemen
George Plimpton
You made it
HST
Yeah finally, it’s been quite an adventure
This place is Hell on wheels, but I like it
Howard Cossel
What in heck’s name are those
HST
Elephant tusks
Norman Mailer
Elephant tusks – is that not illegal
HST
Well, kinda
{to waiter}
Excuse me
Waiter
Can I help sir
HST
Yeah – could i have a bottle of whiskey
Waiter
A bottle sir
HST
Yeah the entire bottle
Chivas Regal if possible, if not
A wild turkey, oh & a margarita
Waiter
Yes sir
Budd Schulberg
Yer drinking habits sure aint chang’d
HST
This continent is making me thirsty
But, let me tell you about what happen’d
Straight from the plane I hor’d me a native
Who found me a boat, upriver we went
Toward & into Inturi Forest
Id heard a rumour that Martin Bormann
Was somewhere up there living in a hut
George Plimpton
What, Martin Bormann the Nazi
HST
That’s right
George Plimpton
Howard Cossel
Find him?
HST
No, but I did find these babies
& I’ve also discover’d it is true
Well according to locals I spoke to
A cobra can swallow a pygmy whole
Norman Mailer
Man, those tusks look, well, fresh, there’s still bits of blood
& flesh, man, that’s disgusting
George Plimpton
& evil
What about the elephant that open’d them
Norman Mailer
Did you kill it yourself
HST
No, of course not
I bought them in some village of some thug
But yes, them being in such a raw state
Attracted some carnival attentions
Riding around Kinshasa with these tusks
Seem’d running thro’ an airport with two large
Plastic bags of heroin, or perhaps
A bazooka bulging under each arm
Anyway, I actually get stopp’d
For driving at a hundred miles an hour
Around a traffic circle, was flagg’d dowm
By a military car and a soldier
Carrying a machine gun climb’d inside
Saw the tusks, & I sens’d tried to get me
To drive to the jail down by the river
I yell’d to the soldier ‘Quien Sabe’
Then throttl’d full speed as a waving gun
Rattl’d by my ears, soldier hanging on
Until we made the ramp of this hotel
Where at the entrance the nice concierge
Translated to my potential captor
Bill Cardoza’s in the Memling Hotel
A very important foreign police chief
& all complaints should be with him lodg’d
Then turn’d & sail’d inside here with my tusks
I’ve a feeling my car’s been impounded
But here I am now, & here’s my whiskey
Thank-you very much
{the waiter hands HST the bottle of whiskey – takes a massive gulp}
Anybody else – no-one
Suit yourselves
{takes a bigger gulp}
Norman Mailer
So, Hunter, tell us
Who’ve you got for the big fight
HST
Nobody
I do not give a shit about boxing
What do I care about two men fighting
I’ll not even got to the stadium
& I’ve already sold my ringside seats
I’m just here to record the ambience
Of this mad, exotic spectacular
& swim a lot of swimming in the sun
I’ve also managed to acquire some grass
{holding up a big bag}
Look at the bigness of this bad boy bag
Howard Cossel
Impressive
Budd Schulberg
You’re an animal, Hunter
HST
He who makes a beast of himself, gets rid
Of the pain of being a man, so guys
I’m off to my room, I need to cool down
I’m pouring with sweat, my blood is too thick
For this climate
George Plimpton
That’s one crazy ninja
Norman Mailer
He certainly lives on the precipice
Budd Schulberg
His brain is a salt shaker of cocaine
Mescaline, Tequila & LSD
Howard Cossel
With his etheromaniacal mind
He’ll be lucky to leave Zaire alive
Budd Schulberg
Just like Ali – I heard that Ferdy’s book’d
A plane to fly him out to Portugal
Just in case, apparently in Lisbon
The best brain doctor in the West resides
George Plimpton
Just two more weeks, boys, two more weeks to go
Norman Mailer
Anybody want a drink, I’m buying
Well, the New York Times are buying
Howard Cossel
Me
Budd Schulberg
Me
Norman Mailer
Four beers please, & a bottle of white rum
Waiter
Certainly sir
Norman Mailer
& four tequilas too
The Conchordia Folio 