DEATH OF A SALESMAN: THE LOST SCENE

(Linda, Biff and Happy are in the Loman Family Kitchen. Linda is drinking coffee through a silly straw, Biff is eating wedding cake out of his fist, and Happy is dribbling a basketball between his legs.)

LINDA: Boys, I’m terribly worried about your father, the salesman. I spoke to your cousins Kapow and Contented to see if they had any advice, as you might recall your aunt Willymina was a despondent saleswoman.
HAPPY: Ah, there’s nothing wrong with Pop, boy! He’s 23 Skidoo, the cat’s footie pajamas, the bee’s knees and elbows and hip-joints! Check this out, this should snap the Old Man out of any funk.

(He spins the ball on his fingertip.)

LINDA: That’s super-impressive, son. But I fail to see how it will help your father. You know how disoriented he gets when you spin him on your forefinger.
BIFF: You got anymore of this hitched cake, Ma?
LINDA: Biffy, light of my loins, we were saving that for our anniversary. Besides, it won’t do to have your children eat your wedding cake; it’s considered culinary incest in the kitchens of decent churchgoers.
BIFF: Yeah right, Ma, like Dad would ever eat cake. He’s not a Cake Eater like you!

(He grabs the rest of the cake from the fridge, a root beer and a sensible meal for dinner and exits within a huff.)

HAPPY: Biff, you douchetard! Mom, he totally killed my b-ball buzz!
LINDA: Try being a long-suffering wife, fruit of my loomgina.

(Mickey Moses Kaminsky enters, he’s totally a handyman.)

MICKEY: Helloooo, Loman family!
LINDA: Howdy, etranger. That’s French for, “Howdy, stranger.”
MICKEY: I’m Mickey Moses Kaminsky, your local handyman, which is English for l’homme du hande.
HAPPY: That’s alright Jack and boxcar Betty, but why have you came to our house?
MICKEY: Well, as I stated in English, I’m your local handyman, and I just couldn’t help but notice that somebody, or somethingy has completely broken out your fourth wall here.
LINDA: Bull honky!
MICKEY: Truth honky! It’s almost completely eviscerated. The frame is still here, but the wall, she’s-a totally gone. Gone like Vince Vaughn.
HAPPY: That explains why the electric bill has been so freaking freakishly large.
MICKEY: Where’s Poppa, anyway?
LINDA: He’s away. On business. Death business.
MICKEY: Well well well well well you just have him call me when gets back. You hear?
HAPPY: Shall do, kind sir.
MICKEY: This old house. I pity the fool.
LINDA: Don’t. Don’t do it. This house is like a view from the bridge, ‘tisn’t a crucible. You can ask all my sons, and the misfits, and after the fall they too arise and will tell you the price, which is not broken glass and also there’s a play about a clock.
MICKEY: My humblest of apologies m’a’a’am. Attention must be paid, as someone will no doubt later say, to this man and his family of familiars. Attention paid like David Spade.
BIFF: (From upstairs window.) Sweet Joseph Christmas, can’t a Biff eat in peace?

(End of lost scene.)