CARUSO: Well, well, well, Old Anders. You’ve got yourself in quite the pickle.
OLD ANDERS: What? I can’t hear you, son.
CARUSO: Where were you on the night of the murder?
OLD ANDERS: Oh, I remember it like it was yesterday. I actually was living in Dallas then. I’m not proud to admit it, but I was the one who sold Oswald the gun.
CARUSO: What are you talking about?
OLD ANDERS: I know, I know. But I sold Jack Ruby the gun too, so I guess that cancels out. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
CARUSO: I wasn’t asking about that murder! I was asking about the greatest political assassination of our time… the murder of Mayor O’Connor!
OLD ANDERS: Oh, that spring chicken. Why, I don’t remember. You must understand that I’m very old and very feeble.
CARUSO: Everyone said you weren’t at trivia that night, and you go every week.
OLD ANDERS: Oh, son. Please forgive me. I know I left you and your mother alone when I went to World War Two, but you have to understand. Somebody had to bomb Dresden.
CARUSO: I’m not your son! And frankly, sir, I think you’re trying to avoid my question.
OLD ANDERS: I don’t remember your question, sir. Again, I am quite old and feeble. I was the one who gave Al Capone syphilis.
CARUSO: With all due respect, sir, I don’t care if you did all of that. I wouldn’t even care if you told me that you were responsible for the tragedy at the Twin Towers.
OLD ANDERS: Oh, you have no idea. Anyway, I have a good reason for missing trivia that night. And I’ll explain that to you, but first, I must admit I’m feeling a little bit drowsy and dizzy and tired. Would you mind jabbing me with that EpiPen?
CARUSO: Excuse me?
OLD ANDERS: Just right in the leg. It’s pretty easy to do.
CARUSO: I’m not jabbing you with the EpiPen!
OLD ANDERS: Fine, I’ll do it myself. Old Anders jabs himself with an EpiPen. Ah, much better. I feel like a little boy again! Except now women can vote.
CARUSO: Okay… now can you answer my question?
OLD ANDERS: I’m sorry, who are you? pause Wait a damn minute, you’re not fooling anyone! I know your secret.
CARUSO: What are you talking about?
OLD ANDERS: I know you’re a “friend of Mussolini”!
CARUSO: Huh?
OLD ANDERS: You’re a goddamn meatball!
CARUSO: Oh, wow, let’s not make this about race. At least I’m not a Swedish meatball.
OLD ANDERS: That’s it! You’ll pay for this. The Allies will prevail!
CARUSO: Okay, I’ve had enough of you. This is a waste of my time- you could never kill the mayor, and I have to go to church.
OLD ANDERS: Oh, go suck up to the Pope! Have fun in hell, Goombah!
—K. Walsh
