nfluence of liquor and then--then
recovers from its influence, how much does he remember?

TIPPY. That depends.

KEN. Let me explain. I know all about it. A man gets drunk in order
to forget what he had on his mind when he was sober. And then he
gets sober in order to forget what he said when he was drunk.

BISHOP. [_Almost pathetically._] Then surely you are mistaken, son.
You did not say these things to Mr. Prescott. You do not remember
what you did say--or even if you spoke to him at all.

KEN. Oh, yes, I do remember. Because I was not drunk when I spoke
to Prescott. And I am not drunk now.

BISHOP. My boy ...

KEN. I was drunk. That's how come I was disrespectful. A quart of
whiskey makes any man disrespectful; but a cup of coffee makes a
man respect his father, and two cups of coffee makes a man respect
his wife.

MARTIN. Give him another cup and he'll respect Prescott.

KEN. Hello. Where'd you come from?

MARTIN. I've been here all the time.

KEN. That's fine. That's fine. Having a good time?

MARTIN. Punk!

KEN. That's too bad. All right. Tell us what you think.

MARTIN. I think you ought to go home and sleep it off and then go
back on the job.

KEN. Ain't got no job.

MARTIN. Well, I mean go back to Prescott.

KEN. Didn't you hear? There is no Prescott. There is no job.

MARTIN. Yes, but there's work. And work is more important than the
matter of who pays for it.

KEN. Work for the wastebasket?

MARTIN. No. Not for the wastebasket. For whatever use it may be to
the world. Your work is important because you are creating
something. The pay system has stalled on you, so what? If your
father is able to help to keep you at work, the best you can do is
to accept it.

KEN. Have you gone screwy? [To TIPPY.] IS that Communism?

MARTIN. I believe in revolutions, not in futile personal
rebellions.

KEN. [_To_ TIPPY.] Do you get him?

TIPPY. I think so.

KEN. For God's sake, do you agree with him?

TIPPY. Listen, old man, you believe in those plans of yours ...

KEN. No. I don't believe in anything, in anything, do you hear? Not
in the love of a father for his son, or in the love of a wife for
her husband, or in the loyalty of friends--or in the integrity of
one's purposes, or in the sincerity of one's hopes, or in the
greatness of one's ambitions.

TIPPY. That's how you feel _now_, Ken

MARTIN. You know doggone well you believe in your work. You love
it. You live it.

KEN. [_Quietl