Act Four
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In the opinion of this critic, Act Four is his great, epic poem.
(In a tour bus traveling to the next gig. Buddy is pacing up and down the aisle of the bus, searching for a victim)
Buddy Rich-
Two fuckin' weeks to make up your mind whether you want a beard or you want a job. I'll
not have this trouble with this band. This is not the goddamn House of David fuckin'
baseball team. This is the Buddy Rich Band; young people...with faces! No more
fuckin' beards. That's out! If you decide to do it, you're through. Right now! This is the last
time I make this announcement. No more fucking beards. I don't want to see it. If you guys
don't want to shave it off, I'll treat you just like they treat you in the fuckin'
Marine Corps. This is the way I want my band to look. If you don't like it, get out! You've got
two weeks to make up your mind. This is no idle request. I'm telling you how my band is
gonna look. You're not telling me how you're gonna look, I'm telling you. You've got two
weeks to make up your fucking mind, if you have any mind. There's too much freedom in this
band. It's taken away. You're not going to do what you want to do, but what I want to do,
as long as you're takin' my fuckin' money. I'm presenting my kind of band. The image I
present is what I want, not what you want (turns to Dave Peneke, one of the
trombonists). You seem to be giving me more trouble than anybody else. Do you want to
do something about it? It's up to you. Do you want to do something about it?
Trombonist-(Dave Peneke, in an Australian accent)
I would definitely not suggest you touch me.
BR-
Then I definitely tell you one thing. You keep your fuckin' mouth shut, get the fuckin'
beard off, or get off the band, right now. Now what do you think about that? Now that's a
definite suggestion. When you go to work tonight, if I catch the fuckin' beard on you,
I'll throw you off the fuckin' bandstand, O.K.?
Trombonist-
I'm not taking it off.
BR-
You're what?
Trombonist-
I'm not taking it off.
BR-
You're through.
Trombonist-
O.K.
BR-
Right now. You don't tell me what to do, I tell you. You don't like it, get off.
Trombonist-
When and where?
BR-
Get off! Get your fuckin' clothes and get off! Right now! (to the bus driver)
Pull the fuckin' bus over!
Trombonist-
Have you got two weeks pay for me?
BR-
Have I got what?
Trombonist-
Two weeks pay for me.
BR-
I got nothin' for you. I got a right hand to your
fuckin' brain if you want it. I'll give
you two weeks...two weeks for what? You learn the rules of my band. You don't like it,
that's it. You get off. And try to take me to the fuckin' union. I'd love it. I'd love it.
You get no two weeks pay, you get two weeks time. Get off. (aside) He was
waiting for this for a long fuckin' time.
Trombonist-
No I haven't.
BR-
Yes you have...
Trombonist-
No I haven't at all.
BR-(continuing)
...ever since you opened your fuckin' mouth because I don't like the way you write...(pausing),
and I still play your fuckin' charts, for you. You understand that...not for me.
Trombonist-
I think you play my charts becau...
BR-
Because what?
Trombonist-
...because, in particular, "Manhattan" is the best chart in the book.
BR-
It is?
Trombonist-
Yes.
BR-
Then take "Manhattan" and get off. I'm a success without you and without your
writing.
Trombonist-
I know that. I know that.
BR-
Alright. So don't tell me what the best chart in my book is.
Trombonist-
Well, it certainly goes over the best.
BR-
Goes over the best?
Trombonist-
Sure it does. People appreciate...
BR-(interrupting)
Go back to Sydney and, uh, whatever you do over there, good luck. Not over here. You're
through. (to others in the area) I want him off my fuckin' bus right now.
Trombonist-
It's a pleasure to be off.
BR-
Keep talkin'...keep talkin'. (Buddy's voice begins to tremble with rage) You
wanna, you wanna start some shit with me? Hmm? Keep talkin'...
Trombonist-
Not particularly.
BR-
Then keep your fuckin' mouth shut! Right now! Or I'll close it for you. Keep it shut...or
try me!
Trombonist-
I don't need to try you, Buddy.
BR-
Then shut up!
Trombonist-
Well, I'd just appreciate, you know, being talked to like a human
being.
BR-
I try to talk to you like a human being and you talk back all the time...
Trombonist-
I don't think you do.
BR-
...now keep your fuckin' mouth shut or I'll show you what it's like! That's all!
Trombonist-
O.K., but you have no right to threaten me.
BR-
I'm not threatening you, I'm telling you. You don't want to do what I want in my band. I'm
telling you!
Trombonist-
O.K.
BR-
Then shut up!
Trombonist-
I will.
BR-
Alright.(turns to the rest of the band) Let's get that understood by everybody. I
want him off. I don't want him on the bandstand tonight. Two bones...(Buddy resumes
cruising the aisle, looking for other targets of opportunity) I'm warning you
for the last time. You wanna...right now...anytime you're ready...Close your
fuckin' eyes.
I've done had it with you. Sit down and keep your fuckin' eyes and your mouth to yourself.
Grow up. You're not a tough guy so why don't you just sit down. You better start learning
to act like one. (Eyes the trombonist) I am one, you are not. So shut up!
Trombonist-
Don't threaten me.
BR-
Fuckin' asshole, fuckin' with me. I've got one for you. I
own this fuckin' band. (Stage
darkens while Buddy contemplates his power)