CHARACTERS

JIM
DALE

JIM, an endocrinologist, is standing center stage, fiddling with some papers.  Enter DALE.
JIM: Hey Dale?  Do you happen to know whether isopropanol alcohol is a skin toxin as well as an inhaled one?
DALE: Yes.
JIM: It is?  You’re sure?
DALE: Huh?  Oh, no, when I said “yes” I didn’t mean “yes it is”, I meant “yes, I know the answer.”
JIM: Oh.  Well, can you tell me what it is?
DALE: No.
(Pause.)
JIM: You can’t?
DALE: Nope.
JIM: Why not?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: What?  Why can’t you tell me?
DALE: Sorry.  Can’t tell you.
JIM: But why not?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: Why not?
DALE: It’s classified.
(Pause.)
JIM: It’s classified?
DALE: Yep.
JIM: Classified as what?
DALE: Top secret.  By the government.
JIM: The government?!  You mean the government classified your research on isopropanol alcohol?
DALE: Yep.
JIM: You mean to say they also classified the reason you couldn’t answer my question, as well as the reason you couldn’t tell me the reason and the reason you couldn’t tell me the reason for not being able to tell me the reason?  But they didn’t bother to classify the reason why you couldn’t tell me the reason why you couldn’t tell me the reason why you couldn’t tell me the reason?  Do I understand you correctly?
DALE: Yep, that’s right.
JIM: How long has the government been involved in our research, anyway?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: You can’t?  Why not?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: Why not?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: Why not!?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: Why not!?!
DALE: It’s classified.
JIM: As top secret?
DALE: Yep.
JIM: By the government?
DALE: Yep.
JIM: So not only is the government poking around at our laboratory, but they’re trying to cover their tracks.
DALE: Yeah.  They said to tell you hi.
(Pause.)
JIM: They what?
DALE: The agent who talked to me said to tell you hi.
JIM: I thought they’d classified their presence here!
DALE: Yeah, but they said if you were wearing white pants and used the phrase “cover their tracks,” I should tell you hi.
JIM: That’s ridiculous.  Why should they care about what color pants I wear?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: You can’t tell me?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: Why not?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: Why not?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: Why not?
DALE: It’s classified.
JIM: As top secret?
DALE: Yep.
JIM: By the government?
DALE: No.
JIM: No?
DALE: No.
JIM: Well, who classified it, then?
DALE: I can’t tell you.
JIM: You mean that information was classified too?
DALE: Yep.
JIM: As top secret?
DALE: No.
(Pause.)
JIM: Not as top secret.
DALE: No.
JIM: What was it classified as, then?
DALE: A pickle.
JIM: A pickle??
DALE: Yep.
JIM: You mean the identity of the person who classified the reason why you can’t tell me the reason why you can’t tell me the reason the government cares about what color pants I wear has been classified—by someone—as a pickle??
DALE: That’s right.
JIM: Can you tell me who classified it as a pickle?
DALE (pointing offstage): Sure.  It was Bill, over there.
JIM: Oh.
DALE: Yeah.
JIM: So you were allowed to tell me that?
DALE: Sure, why wouldn’t I be?
JIM: Well, look, Dale.  Does Bill know whether isopropanol alcohol is a skin toxin?
DALE: No, I don’t reckon he does.
JIM: But you do.
DALE: Yep.
JIM: But you can’t tell me.
DALE: Nope.
JIM: But if I’d come along and asked you yesterday whether isopropanol alcohol is a skin toxin, what would you have said?
DALE: I reckon I’d have said “no.”
JIM: Okay then.  Thank you.  (Turns to go.)
DALE: Of course, I probably would have been lying.
JIM: You what?
The End.