Talking w/ John

JOHN:
Bill! Over here!

PIANO MAN:
Hey John.

JOHN:
Whatcha drinking?

PIANO MAN:
Uh...I'll have what you're having.

JOHN:
Barkeep, get this man a boilermaker.

PIANO MAN:
Yikes.

JOHN:
It'll put a beard on your nads.

PIANO MAN:
I um....

JOHN:
The ladies'll be calling you ole' hairy balls after a few a these. Am I right?

PIANO MAN:
I'm... not really sure...

JOHN:
Wanna smoke?

PIANO MAN:
Not right now. Maybe after the set.

JOHN:
You ever had these? Black and Milds?

PIANO MAN:
No.

JOHN:
It's what the blacks smoke.

PIANO MAN:
John!

JOHN:
Yeah.

PIANO MAN:
You can't...that's pretty racist to say.

JOHN:
That black people smoke these?

PIANO MAN:
Yes!

JOHN:
It's not racist if it's true. They love them. Are they not allowed to love them?

PIANO MAN:
Would you....

JOHN:
Maybe you're the racist, Bill.

PIANO MAN:
I am not a

JOHN:
I'm kidding, Bill. Settle down. I'm not saying anything out of line. My neighbors are black. You know that. We hang out. They got me hooked on these little cigarellos, these little...plastic capped smoke sticks. End of story. Nobody's a racist. Gulp that boilermaker down and relax a little. You're all pent up.

PIANO MAN:
I'm not pent up.

JOHN:
You're pent up. Look at your shoulders right now. They're all scrunched up like a...like a clogged piston. You're not a clogged piston, Bill, you're a piano man who needs unscrunch those shoulders and tickle those ivories like a loosey goosey, well oiled machine. Drink your oil, Bill.

PIANO MAN:
You're ridiculous.

JOHN:
Drink your oil!

PIANO MAN:
Alright. Geez.

JOHN:
I wish I had your guts, Bill.

PIANO MAN:
What are you talking about?

JOHN:
You're out there doing what you love.

PIANO MAN:
You don't love this? I thought this was...your place, your spot.

JOHN:
Bill, this place is killing me. I'm stuck. I should be out there like you. Mixing it up. If I had guts like you I'd be out west. Did you know I used to do musicals?

PIANO MAN:
I did not.

JOHN:
In high school, Bill. Loved it. I should be out in Hollywood or something. On the big screen.

PIANO MAN:
Then do it.

JOHN:
Beh.

PIANO MAN:
Seriously.

JOHN:
There's Paul. Paul! Whatcha drinking? Come over here you old barnacle. Bill, doesn't Paul look like a barnacle?

PIANO MAN:
I don't...

JOHN:
Beardy Balls and Barnacle Face! The piano-playing, real estate-buying duo. Barkeep, get old Barny here a boilermaker.

PAUL:
Thanks, John. Hi, Bill.

PIANO MAN:
Hi, Paul.