Jip walks into the small office and sits in a folding chair. It's the only furniture in the room aside from the card table that Mutt sits behind, in his folding chair. There are no windows. Nothing hangs on the walls. The room is beige with an ancient green tile floor. A trouble light is suspended from a hook in the ceiling. The cord runs across to the wall and down to an outlet.
JIP: Poesy said I was the link he has been looking for.
MUTT: You Jip? You're the link? You are as dumb as Einkenstein.
JIP: That's what he said, Mutt.
MUTT: I thought Neppy was the link? Though I heard that boy ain't right. He ain't no less dumb than you for sure.
JIP: Isn't Neppy his brother?
MUTT: Yeah, I suppose. I hear they had the same father. Get this though. They had the same mother too.
JIP: Who was they?
MUTT: I don't know. Shut up.
JIP: Maybe Neppy's a link too.
Mutt picks up the phone and presses speed dial.
POESY: Who is it?
MUTT: Poesy! It's me Mutt.
POESY: What.
MUTT: Who is your link?
POESY: Well --- Jip is a weak link. Neppy is a missing link. You'll be like Linc--coln after watching the play, Our American Cousin, if you call me with this nonsense again.
MUTT: Thank you, Boss.
Mutt hangs the phone up and stares at Jip.
MUTT: Got a job for you. Check out a play called Our American Cousin and find out what happens to a dude named Link Con.
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