Susan. You’d be a bad actor. You couldn’t do it. You need talent to be an actor.
Rubber. No, all you need is cheek. I got lots of cheek. And then, look at my shape. (Poses.) I’m goin’ to join a show de first chance I get.
Susan. No you don’t, Rubber; no you don’t. I need you right here in the hotel.
Rubber. Well, I made up my mind I’m goin’ to do it.
Susan. Well, then, I’ll have to confess. I’m an actress myself. I’ve been taking a course in the Theatrical Correspondence School.
Miss C. (laughing). Oh, dear! What could you do on the stage?
Susan. Walk on and make a bluff at it—the way I see lots of them do at (name local theatre).
Rubber. And put on lots of paint.
Miss C. I never paint.
Susan. Neither do I. I belong to the Kalsominers’ Union. If you paint you can’t fool a woman for half a minute, but you can fool almost any man for nearly two minutes.