Mr Big (cigar, dark glasses):  Waddya got today boys?

 Al:  We gotta pitcher.

 Dude:  Some broad who got lucky I guess.  She’s smilin’ like she won a lottery or summat.

 Mr Big;  Waddya pinch a pitcher for?  Anyway let’s see it.

 Dude:  This is it Boss.

 Mr Big:  Hey hey hey.  It’s the Mona Lisa.  Wahoo hoo hoo!  This is the most famous pitcher in de world.   It must be worth at least ten million.  We’re rich.

 Al:  Hey Hey.  Rich rich.

 Dude:  Woo hoo hoo wddya know.  Rich rich rich.

 Mr Big:  I’ll be able to give my liddle girl a fancy weddin’ wi’ a stretch limo an’ a honeymoon in Vegas.

 (They caper round in the stage in joy).

 Dude (suddenly):  Hey Boss I just hadda thought.

 Mr Big:  Waddyasayin’?

 Dude:  If this is the most famous pitcher in de world we’ll never be able to sell it.

 Mr Big:  Sinful saints!  Wadda we gonna do?

 Al:  I gotta an idea Boss.
 Mr Big:  Shoot!

 Al:  Let’s pretend it’s a fake.  It won’t fetch as much as de Lisa but a really good fake must be worth big bucks.

 Mr Big:  Great idea!  We put it in a different frame and then offload it on some dealer guy as a fake.

 (They take the picture and put it in a different frame.  They put on smocks spattered with paint.  They re-enter the stage and meet a dealer coming from the other side)

 Mr Big:  You a dealer huh?  We just found a fake of de Mona Lisa.

 Dealer:  A fake you say?

 Dude:  It’s a great fake donyer think?

 Dealer (examining):  I think…I think…this isn’t a fake it’s the real picture.

 Mr Big:  Sacred serpents!

 Dealer:  Where did you find it?

 Mr Big: Where did we find it?

 Al:  In the trash bin.

 Mr Big:  We found it in the trash bin.

 Dealer:   I’m almost dying with excitement.  The whole world is in your debt.  The Mona Lisa!  Imagine.  The Mona Lisa!  It can now be returned to its owners.  I congratulate you.

 Mr Big:  Let’s get out o’here fast.  Wi’ de pitcher.  (The run off the stage while the dealer blows a whistle and starts dialling emergency).

 Al:  Whadda we gonna do now?

 Dude:  We gotta persuade the expert guy it’s a fake.  How ‘bout drawing a moustache on the dame?

 (they draw a moustache).

 Mr Big:  Better make sure.  Give the broad  spectacles as well  (they draw spectacles).  We’ll go see the art guy again.

 (they meet the art dealer).

 Mr Big:  Hey Mista Dealer some guy keeps leaving these fakes in our trash bin.  But whadda fake!  Even an expert couldn’t tell it apart from the original I guess.

 Dealer:  Good heavens!  I’m beside myself with excitement.  This is the missing Magritte.  The famous “Mona Lisa with moustache and spectacles” an icon of radical modern art.  Was this in your trash bin did you say?

 Al:  It’s a big trash bin.

 Dealer:  The lost Magritte.!  It can now be returned to its owners.  The whole world is in your debt.  I congratulate you on your honesty.   How inspiring it is to encounter the honesty and truth of artists in this greedy and corrupt world.

 Mr Big:  We gotta get out o’ here.  Wid de pitcher.

( The Dealer:  Thief! Thief! Stop thief!).

 Dude:  Wadda we gonna do now?

 Mr Big:  This time we make no mistake.  Write This Is a Fake on it.  (They do so)  Let’s go see the art guy again.

 Dude (to dealer):  We found this pitcher of the Mona Lisa.  It’s a fake.

 Al:  In our trash bin.

 Mr Big:  It’s a big trash bin.

 Dealer:  I’m afraid this is a fake.

 Mr Big:  But it’s a real good fake.  Look.  It’s got This Is a Fake written on it.  What’s it worth?

 Dealer:  Almost nothing I’m afraid.  It’s a very obvious fake.  I’ll give you ten dollars:

 Mr Big:  Holy popes!  You can keep your dirty ten dollars (they exit crestfallen.  Dealer exits with the picture).

 Enter Dealer:  The next item is one of the most exciting works to come on the art market for many years.  Ladies and Gentlemen,   I give you the unique, brilliantly conceived, flawlessly executed post-Magritte “This Is A Fake”.  Bidding starts at ten million dollars.  Gentleman over there eleven million… fourteen…sixteen…eighteen…. Going going…nineteen over there…twenty million bid…going…going…

 Twen…tey..mill…ion…dollars…Gone!  Sold for twenty million dollars.

 (later) Dude:  Hey Boss.  You heard dey sold dat pitcher for twenty million bucks?
Mr Big:  Sacred serpents!  She’ll have to go to de weddin in a hatchback Ford and have de honeymoon in downtown Chicago. Holy popes! 



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