rages. The disturbances began precisely from the time when the number began to get a nightly ovation. One could feel first the nervousness, then the tension, and finally the resentment all emanating from the camp of Star. A blowup on the subject in her dressing room tonight. STAR: I don’t give a fuck who gets a hand or who has a number to do. Shit, I can’t do them all! I’m doing too much as it is. LARRY: Then what? STAR: The routining, you schmuck. The spotting. What the hell have you got that number right in front of my dreariest scene in the whole goddamn show? I come on, and with, for Chrissake, what I’ve got to do it’s like a goddamn stage wait. LARRY: They’re working on it. STAR: Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t give me that! “They’re working on it.” They’ve been working on it since Year One. It’s never going to get any better because it’s horseshit to begin with. What do you think they’re going to come up with? Chocolate-covered horseshit? LARRY: It’s an essential scene, dear.
