This little work is one of my favorites as it is a mix of something I love- the Dr. Seuss classic The Butter Battle as well as other classic works of his, and something I loathe- the Sixties melodrama with its discordant messages of moral relativism and generational alienation. It is meant to be a collection of clichés and tired conventions placed in the whimsical fantabulous world of Dr. Seuss.
[The Son walks in from stage left, father is at the table reading the paper]
Father Listen to this, a new study proves buttering your toast on the bottom side causes stomach cancer, intense allergic reactions, homosexuality, and in rare cases Germanization. Just another reason all good G-d fearing Christian heterosexuals put their toast butter side up.
Son
[Stage whisper] You’re such a tool, dad.
Father:
[Folds up paper] What did you say?
Son
I said, you’re a tool, you listen to everything you read, it so like your generation, butter side up this, butter side up that, you’re a broken record.
Father
You don’t know what your talking about, you didn’t have to spend your birthday in a bunker because those pagans over there were threatening you and everything you believed in with big-boy-boomaroos, you never had to fight for anything, you kids with your flinger-mago’s, HornWazlers and a roof over your head, you should talk.
Son
We’re not like you, we’re not stuck in your [finger quotations] “ world,” we’re not carrying on your fascist ideas and wars, were not pawns of oppression.
Father
Oh, so now all those brave men down in Whoville, trying to protect the world’s right to butter their bread the proper way, are pawns. Have you ever seen some one butter their bread on the wrong side…
Son
Not this story again…
Father
Listen to me damn it, back in the war I saw some kids playing with some old butter and bread, thought they were real cool too One girl put the butter on the bottom side, I guess no one told her better. The butter, of course, dripped off the hot toast all over her hands, burning her. She ran for the water but slipped on the puddle of melted butter and pushed into one of her friends, they fell together[wipes a tear from his eye] against the faucet and it split his head open like a melon, brains everywhere, she tried to close the wound but here hands were too slippery, too damn slippery and his skull kept slipping out of here hands again and again… The doctor said if it wasn’t for the butter we might have saved him. [sobs openly]
Son
So you’re saying that story justifies the atrocities down in Whoville, the massacres, the constant killing, and the conscription of kids just out of high school to do it.
Father
What are you talking about, we are offering them freedom and prosperity, a life better then they have ever known!
Son
Where was that freedom and prosperity when we were supporting the Grinches occupation? He wouldn’t even let them celebrate their traditional festivals, stealing everything they had, everything except for a crumb that was too damn small for even a mouse, is that your freedom and prosperity, Dad?
Father
It was the lesser of two evils.
Son
What about those with stars on thar’s down in the south, they are still denied their freedom and prosperity so what are we doing trying to export it when we don’t even have enough for our own countrymen
Father
Oh, and let me guess, Mister Tolerant, the only time you even talked to somebody with star on them was that girl you brought home to try and piss me off! But when I was courteous you ignored her for the rest of the night- and remember when I invited the pants with no body inside them from work over for dinner? You spent the entire evening hiding in the bushes outside.
Son
Well guess what, me and my friends have been buttering our bread on the bottom side, so how do you like that [father slaps son]
Father
Where do you get off, we live in the greatest land in history and you’re buttering your bread like. Like- Like one of them. Where did you learn to do something like that?
Son
I learned it from you, Dad I learned it from you.
[They embrace. we all shed a tear. close curtain]
