The God Of Hell By Sam Shepard – Welch
Welch Monologue The God Of Hell
WELCH: Well, well, well—Mr. “Haynes,” is that it? Mr. Haynes? Very
inventive. Deceptively simple. Almost poetic. “Haynes”—rhymes with “pains,” or is it “shames”? Possibly. Could even be “blames.” The choices are endless. Well, not exactly endless. Everything has its limits, I suppose. Everything runs into a brick wall sooner or later. Even the most heroic ideas.
(WELCH crosses to kitchen counter, sets his attaché case down on it, and pops the case open.)
Sooner or later it would come down to just a nite number of possibilities, wouldn’t it, Haynes? Brains, maims, ames, chains. Which is it? What’s it going to be?
(HAYNES appears at top of stairs, head slumped down, shoulders slouched. WELCH smiles at him, then pulls out the long string of tiny
American ags from his case along with a large chrome staple gun. He climbs up on kitchen counter with the string of ags and stapler, continuing to talk to HAYNES. He starts stapling the string of ags to the
cupboards above the sink.)
There he is! There he nally is. Looking just a wee bit sheepish and downtrodden. We’ve been hunting all over for you, buddy- boy. You’ve caused us a great deal of anxiety. Not to mention the exorbitant and unnecessary expense.
HAYNES: How did you track me down? (Everything is now being punctuated by the shots from the staple
WELCH: You left a very luminous trail, Mr. Haynes. Technology’s a marvelous thing, though. Night vision. Infra-ray. It’s
extraordinary how blind the naked eye is. No wonder people have so much trouble accepting the truth these days.
HAYNES: I’m not going back, you know.
WELCH: Let’s not start o on the wrong foot, buddy-boy.
HAYNES: I’m not going back!
WELCH: (chuckles) I’m afraid you’re going to have to now. You’re
contaminated. You’re a carrier. What’re we going to do about that? We can’t have you free-ranging all over the American countryside like some kind of headless chicken, can we? You’ve already endangered the lives of your friends here, not to mention the Midwest at large. Now, that was pretty selsh of you, wasn’t it? Poisoning the Heartland?
HAYNES: You can’t take me back there.
WELCH: Oh, come on now, “Haynes”—you were getting along so well.
You can’t just walk out in the middle of a project like that. You don’t want to be known as a quitter, do you? Besides, we have a brand-new mission for you. Something of extreme international urgency. I’m sure you’re going to want to be a part of it.