(A living room. FRIDA, a middle-aged woman, is sitting in a chair sipping wine. EMILY, a girl in her twenties, is sitting across from her, very nervous.)
EMILY: You have a lovely home.
FRIDA: Thank you, Emily. I decorated it myself.
EMILY: Oh, I assumed your husband did.
FRIDA: Really? Why would you assume that?
EMILY: All the, uh, dead animals. I thought maybe he was a hunter or something.
FRIDA: Carlson? Oh no. (Laughs.) The only thing he ever killed was a good time. I'm the one fascinated with death.
EMILY: Derek said you're a spiritual advisor? I have to admit, I'm not really sure what that is.
FRIDA: I teach people how to live as fully as possible while they're still alive, and then once they die, they leave me all their money and I make sure their wishes continue to be carried out after their deaths.
EMILY: So, you read their wills and--
FRIDA: Oh, wills aren't necessary, Emily. I'm in constant communion with the dead.
EMILY: I, uh--are you?
FRIDA: Yes. Always. Voices in my head all the time.
EMILY: Well that's--uh, that's something.
FRIDA: It's so nice that Derek's finally letting me meet you. I'm sorry he's running late from work. He's always running late. He gets that from his dead father--who, by the way, is a great admirer of your cleavage.
EMILY: I'm sorry?
FRIDA: My deceased husband loves your breasts.
EMILY: No, I think I got that part, but--What?
FRIDA: He wanted to be here when I met you. After all, Derek has mentioned marrying you on more than one occasion.
EMILY: (Can't help but be intrigued.) He has?
FRIDA: Yes, and so, of course, the whole family wanted to be here to size you up. My mother says you're dressed like a whore.
EMILY: Mrs. Nager!
FRIDA: Actually dear, her last name was Morgan. She kept her maiden name. A very progressive woman. A real feminist. She says you look like you're going to a married man's funeral so you can sit at the back of the church.
EMILY: What does that even mean?
FRIDA: Hang on, Aunt Eva's here now. Oh boy, she says she knows your grandfather.
EMILY: He's been dead for eight years.
FRIDA: She wants to know if he died from some untreated venereal disease.
EMILY: I beg your pardon?
FRIDA: Apparently, he has a voracious sexual appetite. In the eight years he's been dead, he's already slept with Greta Garbo, Marie Curie, and all of the Andrews sisters.
EMILY: My grandfather was a lovely and timid man!
FRIDA: Well, it's always the quiet ones, dear. Aunt Eva's concerned you may have some of his predilections, if you catch my drift.
EMILY: I have to say, Mrs. Nager--
FRIDA: Call me Frida, dear.
EMILY: Uh, Frida--that I find this all a little--Well, I think it's bullshit.
FRIDA: Oh, don't let my great-grandmother hear you say that. She was never fond of cynics. Whenever she was in the presence of a non-believer, her fake eye would begin to twitch.
EMILY: Now that she's dead, I doubt she still has her fake eye.
FRIDA: No, I have it.
EMILY: You--excuse me?
FRIDA: On the mantle over there. It was her left eye. The right one she was buried with, of course. But, I loved her so much, I figured keeping a little souvenir wouldn't be all that bad. And it does still twitch from time to time. It's like my own little smoke alarm.
EMILY: It's actually nothing like a smoke alarm.
FRIDA: Dear me, I think I can see it twitch.
EMILY: Do you not like me, Frida?
FRIDA: Of course I like you! I adore you! You're adorable! But my cousin Maxine--she says you have mud eyes.
EMILY: I have blue eyes.
FRIDA: And cousin Maxine had terrible vision.
EMILY: Maybe you should loan her your great-grandmother's eye.
FRIDA: A sense of humor! How delightful! I thought that was very funny, but nobody else did. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.
EMILY: I lost a bunch of dead people.
FRIDA: Family, dear, they're family.
EMILY: But you approve of Derek dating me?
FRIDA: I think it's fantastic. I'm over the moon about it.
EMILY: But none of your dead relatives are?
FRIDA: My father seems to like you.
EMILY: Okay.
FRIDA: Wait--my mother's talking to him now. (A beat.) He changed his mind. I'm sorry, Emily, it seems they all hate you now.
EMILY: You're full of it.
FRIDA: There goes that left eye again.
EMILY: Frida--Mrs. Nager--this has been fun. But I think I'll wait for Derek in the hall next to the stuffed squirrels.
(She stands.)
FRIDA: Wait!
EMILY: What?
FRIDA: My grandfather likes you.
EMILY: Huh?
FRIDA: My grandfather. Papa Joe. He says you're feisty. And he likes that my grandmother hates you. That means you're in.
EMILY: Just like that? Just because of one person?
FRIDA: My grandfather was the head of the family, Emily. If he likes you, you're in. It's as simple as that.
EMILY: Oh.
(She sits.)
Well that's...good.
FRIDA: I'm so relieved. I'd hate to have to poison another one of Derek's girlfriends.
EMILY: What?
FRIDA: (Laughs.) Just kidding, dear. More tea?
(EMILY looks at her wearily.)
EMILY: I'm good.
(Lights.)
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