Perry Mason

Perry: May I? (sits down at table with Sheila and Buzzie) Feel like talking Buzzie? Can you figure it? Buzzie: The Cool Ones dig the talent are vicious. A lost tribe of rejects. Slobs go for smash - maybe wind up in the island doing five to nine for trusting. But the Squares. Oh, the Squares. Perry: Tell me about the Squares. Buzzie: Go, go, go. Run through the ruts. Splash mud on clean little people. Stay in the muddy rut. Splash mud at the sun. Wear a mask to hide a muddy face. Squares? Ask me about the Squares. I'm Madame Bertha - mystic reader. I understand 'em better than anybody. I put 'em down - liars, hypocrites, slaves. Perry: What are you, Buzzie? Buzzie: I'm beat Daddy, I'm beat. No past, no present, no future. Alone. Me, with nothing but chaos and confusion. Squares. Who's me? I don't know. Where am I? I guess the Hipster said it best - at the bottom of my personality looking up. Perry: What gives with the Squares, Buzzie? Buzzie: They don't make it, baby. They don't swing. Perry: No chance? Buzzie: Only a chance to be born again. Perry: Like you did with Goff? Buzzie: Goff was a Square. He didn't belong. (slams down beer can) Boffo! Now he gets a new start. A new scene. Sheila: Let's split.