(The kitchen of the Hos’ home, the window overlooking the gravel
driveway.
MRS. HO is making a
diorama of a windswept street, with tiny crumpled
newspapers and broken umbrellas
suspended by wire. She paints
the eyes on
her small doll self, doll grandson in its arms.)
MOCHA TCHOKHA ROSE
Where is your grandchild?
MRS. HO
With his mother.
(MOCHA
sips juice.)
MOCHA TCHOKHA ROSE
“Butch Gardens” has been on another platform for several
months now.
MRS. HO
You can
hide nothing on the internet.
MOCHA TCHOKHA ROSE
I am successful and don’t need you. I am taking “Butch Gardens.”
MRS. HO
That’s best.
MOCHA TCHOKHA ROSE
You won’t get any new episodes for “Plays: Short and Strange.”
MRS. HO
Good. But you
are my intellectual property.
(She installs the Mrs. Ho doll.)
MOCHA TCHOKHA ROSE
What?
MRS. HO
It doesn’t matter.
I found Westward. We had a
reconciliation. Or something.
MOCHA TCHOKHA ROSE
Good. Good-bye
forever.
(She
leaves.)
END
OF “DISENTANGLEMENT.”
