In the black, we hear the sound of
                                   APPLAUSE and CHEERING from inside a
                                   theatre.  Also, we hear the cries of
                                   "Author!  Author!" from the unseen
                                   audience.  Slowly, as each VOICE is
                                   heard, we see that we are inside Bob's
                                   brain.  Each voice is accompanied by a
                                   light, sharp or drawn out depending on
                                   each speech.  BOB is in his mid
                                   thirties.  He's a reasonably decent
                                   looking guy if your requirements aren't
                                   lofty.  His brain is a kind of
                                   clubhouse which stores all the
                                   essential stuff of Bob's life.  While
                                   everything in the brain is neatly-kept,
                                   there isn't a great deal of order to
                                   the place.  There are baseball gloves
                                   and movie posters, stacks of
                                   paperbacks, photos of various family
                                   members and friends.  Two or three
                                   televisions from preceding eras.  Ditto
                                   a few VCRs.  A full-fledged computer,
                                   very new.  An old stereo.  Lots of
                                   baseball caps and a couple of Red Sox
                                   souvenir pennants.  There are also some
                                   specific items mentioned during the
                                   course of the play.  The only
                                   difference between Bob's brain and what
                                   his apartment must look like is that,
                                   while there are nooks and crannies
                                   which allow entrances and exits, still,
                                   there seems to be no door into or out
                                   of Bob's brain.

                                   Oh, by the way, there is a very
                                   visible, extraordinary-looking chest
                                   situated in a very secure portion of
                                   the brain.
                                   Bob is in his brain, where he always
                                   seems to be, listening intently, and
                                   occasionally responding, to the VOICES.

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            Now, that, is what I call a play!

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            It's wonderful!  My cheeks hurt from smiling so much!

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            Bob wrote that?  Our Bob?

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            I can't believe it!  It's so good!

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            Well, you know what he has to do.

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            All right.  I'll say it.  That is the funniest play I've ever

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            You know what you have to do.

            I know what I have to do.

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            And I saw DEATH OF A SALESMAN.  Twice.

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            Listen to what I'm telling you.  You should put this play on

            Good idea.

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            And you're so quiet all the time!  Why didn't you tell us you
            could write like this?

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            And it's such a great title!  AULD LANG SYNE!

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            I'm serious now--that's the best title...for a play...that
            I've ever heard.

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            It's so...cheery!

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            And I've seen DEATH OF A SALESMAN.

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            Way to go, Bob!

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            Bring it to New York.

            You think?

                                   2-VOICE (WOMAN)
            You love New York!

                                   1-VOICE (MAN)
            The Durante quote?  Remember?  The Jimmy Durante quote?

                                   2-VOICE (WOMAN)
            Bob loves New York!

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            Get it to The Apple!

            Jeez, I'd like to, but...

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            You're "The Catholic Woody Allen!"  It said so in the paper!

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)
            I read that.


                                   1 VOICE (MAN)

                                   3 VOICE (MAN)
            The Apple.

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            The Big Apple.

                                   4 VOICE (WOMAN)
            New York!

                                   2 VOICE (WOMAN)
            The town so nice, they named it...

                                   1 VOICE (MAN)


            Twice, I know, I know...

                                   All the voices now talk at once, each
                                   encouraging Bob to bring his play to
                                   New York.  Finally, Bob stops them.

                                   BOB (cont'd)
            All right!  All right! 

                          (he is holding his script; he
                           addresses the audience)
            I'm thinking...of taking my New York.

                                   LIGHTS UP FULL.  Seemingly out of
                                   nowhere appears THE BIG APPLE.  He is
                                   the human manifestation of New York
                                   City.  Enough said.


                          (grabs script)
            Gimme that!

            Hey, what are you doing?

            Look, right from the start, from the get-go, let's not yank
            each other's chains, all right sweetheart?  You know what I'm
            doing.  If you didn't know what I was doing, I wouldn't be

            Wait a minute...the only way you could be here...


                          (riffling pages)

            Is if I conjured you up.  Brought you into my brain.


                          (feeling weight of script)
            Correctamente!  Good Christ, what is this?  BEN-HUR?

            But I wasn't thinking

            You'll have to cut.  85 minutes, tops, these days a show
            should run, unless you got kick lines, homosexuals or God
            Help Us Lloyd Webber.

            I was thinking of New York.

            Listen, you got any Maalox in here?

            With respect to my play.

            First of all, eliminate in this brain of yours the notion of
            ever again using the words New York, respect, and your play
            in the same sentence.

            Who are you?


                          (gives script back to Bob)
            Hold this.  I got heartburn like a colony of red ants is
            farting in unison in my gastric tract.  Let me introduce
            myself.  I am The Big Apple.