Tell me, Mr. Maverick, is this your first time on the riverboat?
All right, Felix, you win. We'll try to iron it out. Anything you want. Come back, Felix. Felix ... Felix? Don't leave me like this. --- You louse!
Because the script speaks for itself and for all of us, for how we all feel, it is only right that any lament, made in retrospect, be done in the words of the characters and the playwright.
And we did, or at least we tried, Speed being the most enthusiastic of us all in getting the game going. Although we never quite made it through a game, it was always a matter of the people we played with, and not the play itself.
How do you know how you'd feel? Maybe you'd feel wonderful. Why do you have to control every single thought in your head? ... Why don't you let loose once in your life? Do something you feel like doing - and not what you think you're supposed to do ... Relax. Get drunk. Get angry ... C'mon, break the goddamned cup!
I'm sure, for most of us. that's how we felt in the beginning. From the lines, to the informal dance studio sessions, the much-better comm hall attempts, and finally the grand opening at UCC.
How do you know?
I can feel it in my bones.
And so we did. We felt every bit of adrenaline right up to the moment where Felix gets a glass in his face, and even after when Oscar shows up with Felix's suitcase.
We came, we saw, and we most certainly conquered -- a night of raunchy, adolescent laughter followed by a second night of hearty, family chortle. After which, the void settled in, post production.
Don't tell her I'm fine! You heard me carrying on before. What are you telling her that for? I'm not fine.
We most certainly weren't, and then we asked ourselves:
Oscar, you've been through it yourself. What did you do? How did you get through those first few nights?
Because nobody but us understood.
You don't understand, Oscar. I'm nothing without them. I'm nothing!
The questions we asked came with difficult answers.
How can you forget your kids? How can you wipe out twelve years of marriage?
You can't. When you walk into eight empty rooms every night it hits you in the face like a wet glove. But those are the facts, Felix. You've got to face it. You can't spend the rest of your life crying.
I'm going to be all right! It's going to take me a couple of days ... but I'm going to be all right!
Try to get a good night's sleep. I guarantee you things are going to look a lot brighter in the morning.
Even if we did know, deep down:
It was better before. With the garbage and the smoke, it was better before.
But that aside, there are still words to be said.
To Vinnie and Murray, I know you feel the same:
I mean it's terrible what it can do to people. After all, what is divorce? It's taking two happy people and tearing their lives completely apart. It's inhuman, don't you think so?
No crying, sighing, moaning or groaning.
If you need me I'll be at the Meridian Motel in Miami Beach.
Oh, we've done spectacular things but I don't think we'd want it spread all over the Telly, do you Gwen Speed?
And to Grace, from all of us:
You're a wonderful guy, Oscar. You've done everything for me. If it weren't for you, I don't know what would have happened to me. You took me in here, gave me a place to live and something to live for. I'll never forget you for that. You're tops with me, Oscar.
For the people who don't get us, it doesn't matter, because:
Well, when is it that you miss them?
The answer will always be:
So to my dearest cast friends:
How about next Friday night? You're not gonna break up the game, are you?
I hope your answer is the same as mine.
Me? Never! Marriages may come and go, but the game must go on.
Because, indeed, the game must go on. :)