Arthur Deveraux, a dapper young bon vivant.
Fred Wabinsky, a surly, unkempt Tabloid Editor.
(SCENE.--FRED and ARTHUR are sitting at a table staring at each other adversarially. There is a coffee pot, two cups and a bowl of sugar cubes between them. ARTHUR is holding a sheaf of paper tightly with both hands. The two speak rapidly and heatedly, overlapping at points.)
Arthur (thrusts the papers heatedly at FRED who glances at them): This can't go to print.
Fred (brusquely): Dunno how you got
this. Don't care. If that's what you brought me here for, you're wasting your time.
Arthur (charming. Pours coffee into cups while talking): I invited you here for an exclusive interview to correct the things you've got wrong. Coffee?
(ARTHUR rapidly drops three sugar cubes into a cup)
Fred (overlapping on "wrong"): Truth don't move my papers. I'll take--
Arthur (interrupting, bored):Black with three sugars
(ARTHUR pushes the cup with the sugar at Fred)
Fred(surprised): You know my poison.(Fred slurps) Ain’t gonna stop the presses. Anyone know your history?
Arthur: No. It would complicate things--
Fred (greedily): How you gonna sweeten the pot if I bury this?
Arthur: Have you ever heard of the Gros Michel?
Fred: No. What's--
Arthur ( rapidly and clearly, as if reciting from a book): The Gros Michel is a species of banana. It was
the commercial banana for the first half of the twentieth century. It
was tasty, durable, and shipped well. The Gros Michel is now
all but extinct because of one glaring vulnerability; A susceptibility to blight. Despite its value it was weak.
Fred:You tryin' to say this story's your weakness? 'Cause -–(FRED trails off and grabs his throat, his eyes widening in surprise. He falls forward onto the table then slumps to the floor. )
Arthur (Calmly, as FRED begins to clutch his throat): No, Mr. Wabinsky, you are the Gros Michel. I am the blight.