Copyright 1982, 1986 by Charles Deemer TESTING a dark comedy in one act by Charles Deemer THE CAST: Boris Ivan DJ Natasha Voice on tape THE SET: Radio station KGB-SH in Moscow. Stage right, the radio studio, with the DJ's "board" facing the audience. Stage left, the reception office with a desk. The station and office are separated by a wall, a door, and a sound-proof bay window. Entrance into the office is stage left. THE TIME: Now. ____ (AT RISE: the DJ is in the studio. Natasha is cleaning off her desk, preparing to go home. DJ enters the office.) DJ Not leaving already? NATASHA Requests are pretty slow today. DJ Too nice a day to listen to the radio. Moscow is alive with picnics. NATASHA Nicolai's working overtime or we'd be on one ourselves. DJ And how are the little ones? NATASHA Marta lost her first tooth. Š DJ How time flies. Before you know it, they'll be grown and having children of their own. NATASHA I'm too young to be a grandmother. DJ You wait -- it'll happen before you know it. NATASHA (on her way out) Don't fall asleep at the microphone. DJ It'll be a struggle, believe me. How are we stocked for vodka? NATASHA Bought a new case Wednesday. DJ Good. It's the only thing about this job that's bearable any more. NATASHA (on her way out) Be good. DJ Good is boring! (She's gone. DJ returns to the studio and is back on the air:) DJ That was the Little Bugs doing Moscow Matinee! Number Six on the Honorable Twenty-five this week! Hey-bob-a-ree-bob! You're listening to Moscow Radio KGB-SH . . . and now a People's Service Announcement . . . (DJ goes off the air, removes his earphones and immediately drinks from a bottle of vodka, as we hear:) VOICE ON TAPE People's Service Announcements for Sunday, the 16th: The Moscow Abortion Collective will meet at the University Library on Tuesday at seven-thirty. Nominations for new officers will close at seven-forty-five. The Tuesday meeting of Blue Jeans Anonymous has been cancelled. Stay tuned to this station for further details. Š VOICE ON TAPE (cont.) The Bread Distribution Schedule for tomorrow is: A through K, seven to seven-thirty morning; L through P, seven-thirty to eight; R through Sh-Ch, eight to eight-thirty; all others stay tuned. Please carry exact change. (At this point, as the VOICE continues below, BORIS and IVAN enter the office. They are in overalls, carrying painting gear. With no one to greet them, they try to get the attention of the DJ through the window but the DJ is still lost in his vodka bottle.) VOICE ON TAPE Comrades! Please conserve vodka! For more information, write Box-Ts, Moscow Central Station. Forbidden Tunes, week of the seventeenth: "Black Market Blues"; "Stalin's Last Letter"; "Oo-ee Sh-boom Ding-dong, O Love Me, Baby, Yes!"; "Postage Rates Are Rising"; "I Was A Mongoloid in the Army." (Finally BORIS and IVAN get the attention of the DJ. He tries to hide the bottle, then gestures that he has to get back on the air.) VOICE ON TAPE Civilian Survival Rehearsals, week of the seventeenth: none. This concludes the People's Service Announcements for Sunday the sixteenth. This has been a KGB-SH production. DJ (back on the air) Hey-bob-a-ree-bob! You're listening to Sunday Caviar, featuring the very best in Soviet entertainment. Last week it was Number Three on the Honorable Twenty-five . . . this week it's climbed up to number two! The popular Alexander Mopkin singing a sad ballad of unrequited love . . . "The Decadent Betrayal of the Champagne Lady" . . . (DJ starts record, turns off sounds, takes off earphones, and enters the office.) DJ Sorry, I was about to go on the air. BORIS (with a work order form) We're supposed to paint the office. DJ No one told me.Š BORIS We were supposed to be here last month. It's been very busy. And, of course, there's the usual American yellow tape. DJ (looking over form) I see. Well, help yourself. BORIS You need to sign here. DJ Of course. (He signs.) BORIS We'll try not to disturb you. DJ No matter, the studio's sound-proof. BORIS When we finish this wall, we'll need your signature again. Then again here so we can start the other wall. One signature per wall. DJ Just give a wave, and I'll be out as soon as I can. Well, I'd better get back to work. (DJ goes back into the studio.) BORIS Nothing to it. IVAN Easy enough to say now. BORIS I'll say it now and I'll say it in twenty minutes. It's pigeon soup. IVAN Hope you're right. BORIS Relax. Let's get started. (They prepare to start painting.) IVAN (seeing a radio on the desk) Maybe we should turn on the radio so we can know what's going on in there. Š BORIS I've heard his show before. It stinks. IVAN He has a phone in there. BORIS So what if he has a phone? IVAN Then he can call out. BORIS Ivan, relax. This plan was put together by better minds than ours. Nothing can go wrong. IVAN Easy to say now. BORIS In twenty minutes -- nineteen -- I'll say the same. Where's the thinner? IVAN You had it last. BORIS It was on the porch when I loaded the ladder. Didn't you get it? IVAN I thought you did. BORIS For Marx sake! Well, no matter. We'll paint without it. Won't make any difference soon enough. DJ (back on the air) And here's the Red Army Chorus singing, "Peaceful Drifting Snow Blizzard." (Again, DJ turns down sound and reenters the office.) DJ What color? IVAN Gray. DJ How dull. BORIS It was left over from the Battleship Butterfly.Š DJ It's always the warships they buy too much paint for. Why not the People's Sex Lab one time? Purple would liven up the place. BORIS Excuse me, it's not that I'm snooping, but I noticed you have some vodka. DJ It keeps me going . . . BORIS I was wondering if we could borrow a little. We forgot thinner. DJ Sure. (He goes to Natasha's desk and finds several vodka bottles.) DJ We just got a new case. (He gives them a bottle.) BORIS Thanks. DJ Gray, huh? (He shakes his head and returns to the studio.) IVAN Clever to thin with vodka, Boris. Perhaps . . . BORIS That's why I got it -- you need it worse than the paint. But just a sip. I don't want you drunk when the rubles are down. Only fifteen minutes now. (IVAN takes a swig of vodka; in the studio, the DJ does the same.) BORIS He's right about the gray. Moscow gets duller all the time. If it were up to me, I'd save the people and destroy the buildings. IVAN Vodka?Š BORIS Just a sip. (Toasting) To the new dawn. IVAN That would be harder, I think. Saving the people. BORIS Not when they are underground. The Soviet Union has the most advanced Civilian Survival System in human history. Send everybody below and then flatten the country: that would put the fear of Lenin in them. IVAN It didn't stop England in the Second Big One. They didn't give up, flattened country or not. BORIS Well, who are we to shape military policy? Better minds than ours are at work. If you have a bomb that kills people but saves the buildings, it's all the better for the survivors. After all, Moscow wasn't built in a day. IVAN One more sip? BORIS Just one. IVAN To the new dawn. BORIS That's the spirit. DJ (on the air) The magnificent Red Army Chorus! Hey-bob-a-ree-bob! Here's Number Seven on this week's Honorable Twenty-Five, after falling from number one to five weeks on the Forbidden Tunes list . . . but it's back on the charts on appeal, at number seven and still climbing . . . it's Buddy Boy and the Hollywood Gangsters doing it for you, a rocking good dance step that's taken Moscow by storm . . . "Everybody Do the Nuke!" (DJ goes off the air, takes a swig of vodka and starts dancing the Nuke in the studio.) IVAN I don't like him drinking in there like that. BORIS Everyone in Moscow drinks on the job. Š IVAN They don't carry on like that. Is he having a seizure? BORIS He's probably lonely. On the radio, the job sounds glamorous -- but look at the closet he's in, trying to pretend it's Lenin's Eve. He probably gets phone calls from lonely babushkas, saying suggestive things to him. All the while they've got their arm around a boyfriend. It looks as lonely as Siberia in there. IVAN He looks more crazy than lonely. (And the DJ dances the Nuke into the office.) DJ Everybody do the Nuke! It's the latest craze . . . BORIS I thought it was a Forbidden Tune. DJ They cleaned it up again. Quite acceptable this week. BORIS You seem to know the dance steps very well. DJ My sister taught me. Of course, that was before it was banned. BORIS Of course. DJ It's not as easy as it looks -- being stunned and keeping your balance at the same time. Easier when you're younger. BORIS I wouldn't begin to try at my age. DJ Everybody do the Nuke! (He dances back into the studio.) IVAN I don't think he's lonely. BORIS Maybe you're right. These radio personalities have their reputation to think of -- maybe that's all for our benefit. Š (They go back to work. In the studio, the telephone rings. Simultaneously, the lights in the office dim.) DJ (answering the phone) Sunday Caviar . . . Any request you like, my little fish egg. . . . An American, really? I think many American students listen to me. You like country-western? I have Gene Autry, Tennessee Ernie Ford? . . . Jazz then? Satchmo, Lawrence Welk? . . . Ah! I know just the song for you. Hey-bob-a-ree-bob! (He hangs up.) IVAN Boris, he got a phone call. BORIS So? IVAN So I'm nervous. What time is it? BORIS Twelve minutes. Relax. Imagine you are painting a beautiful woman. IVAN I don't know any gray women. BORIS Paint the hair of your grandmother. DJ (on the air) We have a special request on Sunday Caviar. Betty is an American student studying at the University and she wants to dedicate this to all her new friends in Moscow. In America, it was recorded by Elvis -- in the Soviet Union, by Danny Car Wash! Hey-bob-a-ree-bob! (The DJ starts a record but the studio monitor has gone on the blink. He bangs on it. Nothing. He rushes into the office.) DJ Excuse me, I want to hear this. My monitor just went turnips. (DJ turns on the radio: we hear a singer doing a Russian version of "You Ain't Nothin' But A Hound Dog" /see appendix/) Š DJ American student requested Elvis. I'll be she's surprised to hear that Danny Car Wash is better. (The song continues. Suddenly the lights dim again.) DJ Excuse me -- I have a call. (He hurries back into the studio.) IVAN Boris, why is an American calling him? BORIS To request a song. It's nothing. IVAN But now of all times! BORIS Relax. American students are paid by the CIA to request American songs. It's part of the cold war. IVAN This is no longer chilly, Boris. BORIS What can a student suspect? Students are optimists. Why study otherwise? Relax and paint your grandmother's hair. To the new dawn, Ivan. IVAN To the new dawn. (They drink.) DJ (on the phone) Sunday Caviar . . . Hello again! You like it, yes? Better than Elvis? . . . Really? I never heard this before. . . . My American is very poor but I'll try to find out for you. Hey-bob-a-ree-bob! (He hangs up, takes a swig of vodka, and is back on the air.) DJ That was a special request on Sunday Caviar. Moscow's own Danny Car Wash! What do you think? Who is better, Elvis or Danny Car Wash? While you're deciding, here's a regular feature on Sunday Caviar, the minutes of last week's meeting of the Institute for Inspections. Š (He goes off the air and is back into th office.) DJ Do either of you speak American? BORIS A little bit. DJ That was the American student on the phone. She says the song by Elvis is mistranslated. Do you know "Hound Dog" in American? BORIS I think I remember: (singing, with accent:) "You ain't nothin' but a hound dog / Crockin' all the time . . ." DJ And how do you say this in Russian? BORIS You ain't nothin' but a hound dog / Always being a broken down horse. DJ That's exactly what I thought it meant. IVAN Excuse me, but I thought it was a pot. BORIS A crock is a broken down horse. IVAN To the English, a broken down horse. To the Americans, a crock is a pot. The American goes: (singing, with accent:) "You ain't nothin' but a hound dog / Crockin' all the time . . ." A crock is a pot. DJ Then it means, You ain't nothin' but a hound dog / Always being a pot? IVAN No, it is colloquial expression. You ain't nothin' but a hound dog / Always going to the pot. You know, to sprinkle water on Stalin's grave. DJ But this is terrible to play on the radio! BORIS Worse, when Stalin was alive. Š DJ I must report this to the Secretary of Forbidden Tunes. But Natasha is always out of forms. (Throwing up his arms:) Fat of the fish egg . . . (He goes back into the studio.) BORIS I don't understand. Americans say, (with accent:) "I am crocked." This means they are drunk -- in other words, acting like a broken down horse. IVAN No, it means they have to go to the pot many times -- which means they are drunk. BORIS Wait a minute. There is also underground youth expression. I think American youth, they call Mexican H-bombs "the pot." IVAN I never heard this. BORIS So perhaps it means: You ain't nothin' but a hound dog / Always smoking on the Mexican H-bomb! Don't you see? Elvis died of drugs. So this is like a foreshadowing! Like playing the Beatles backwards! IVAN I tried playing the Beatles backwards and it didn't work. Of course, it was the Russian version. BORIS No, it has to be the English. IVAN You ain't nothin' but a hound dog / Always smoking on the Mexican H-bomb . . .? Perhaps you're right. It's a very big problem in America, this is true. BORIS You've been to America? IVAN Not yet. You? BORIS Not yet. IVAN Soon, if we are lucky. BORIS To the new dawn.Š IVAN To the new dawn. BORIS Eight minutes. IVAN Perhaps another? BORIS Just a sip. . . . That dance he was doing -- won't he be surprised! IVAN Won't the world be surprised! BORIS That's the first good sense I've heard from you. You're finally relaxed. IVAN The vodka, I think. One grows to depend on it. BORIS It could be worse. In Mexico, for tequila, they put worms in the bottle. IVAN In America, they put preservatives. DJ (on the air) That was the minutes of last week's meeting of the Institute for Inspections. And now last week's traffic tickets . . . IVAN Another nip? BORIS To the new dawn. IVAN The new dawn. BORIS I think I will like America. IVAN You are certain to go? BORIS Nothing is certain, of course. But I have good seniority. And you? Š IVAN It depends on the competition. I only have three years. BORIS That isn't so bad any more. Good help is hard to find. IVAN And you? BORIS Eight years. I've been very lucky. IVAN Eight is excellent seniority. BORIS Of course, the duty is just as important. This should be a fat fish egg on your plate. Were you surprised to be chosen? IVAN Astonished. I would've been happy drawing a small radio station in the provinces. BORIS I was surprised to get Moscow myself. IVAN With eight years seniority? If I were you, I would've been disappointed not to get something important. BORIS There's no logic to any of it, really. It's all fat of the fish egg. IVAN Fat of the fish egg. BORIS One more sip and back to work. New dawn. IVAN Dawn. DJ (on the air) You're listening to the very best in Soviet popular entertainment on Sunday Caviar. Here's last week's graduates from the Alcohol Rehabilitation Center, telling you what they've learned . . . BORIS Any family? IVAN No. You? Š BORIS A brother. He's an alcoholic. IVAN What rank? BORIS Captain in the tank guard. IVAN It must be difficult for you. BORIS Not really. He's also homosexual. IVAN I understand. I met a Catholic once. BORIS Some people you can't change. (A pause.) IVAN What time is it? BORIS Five minutes. IVAN I'm nervous. BORIS It's only Marxist. IVAN My first big assignment, really. You must have had many. BORIS Nothing as important as this. IVAN This is so final. BORIS Best coup since Bobby Fisher. IVAN I suppose so. I don't play chess myself. BORIS Wonderful game. It's the one thing I'll miss. IVAN Why miss it when there's Bobby Fisher?Š BORIS He's one of a kind in America. Mostly they play video games. IVAN I hear the caviar is also bad. BORIS And the vodka! I'd rather drink the Volga. IVAN Yes, there are things to miss. BORIS A few things, yes. IVAN But I keep forgetting all the buildings will be left untouched! Red Square, the Kremlin, the sculpture in Lenin Park . . . I wonder if the ducks . . . ? BORIS No ducks, I think. IVAN Maybe with later improvements. DJ (on the air) Back to music now, with another classic from the Red Army Chorus . . . "Fighting the Yellow Hordes, I Get the Blues in the Night" . . . (DJ draws a cigarette, sees he doesn't have a match, then goes into the office.) DJ Do you have a light? BORIS Of course. DJ Gray. Even if it was the prison with a surplus. Yellow isn't purple but . . . BORIS Can't fight the People's Hallway. DJ You said there was something else to sign before you can begin the next wall? BORIS No hurry. Š DJ I'm going to be tied up for a while. Weekly Abortion Stats. The other DJ forgot to make a tape, I'll have to read them myself. BORIS Sign here then . . . (DJ signs forms.) DJ You know, thinning with vodka was a good idea. American vodka is so odorless but ours gives the room a nice aroma, don't you think? (He returns to the studio.) IVAN Boris? BORIS Three minutes. IVAN The old heart is really pounding. BORIS I'll do the dirty work. Unless you prefer. IVAN Dirty work? BORIS After the announcements, he'll have to be eliminated. IVAN Of course. BORIS Funny, isn't it? It'll be the messiest part of the entire affair. There's technological progress for you. IVAN I suppose this day will make guns obsolete. BORIS Long overdue, I'd say. For Marx sake, gun powder was stolen from us by the Chinese centuries ago! DJ (on the air) Soviet Caviar presents Weekly Abortion Statistics. Lenin Hospital, forty-seven; Dostoevsky Clinic, twenty-four; Tolstoy Out-Patient Lab, ninety-eight; People's Television Instruction, one hundred and three . . .Š (Suddenly air-raid signals begin to sound: they will continue to the end of the play.) IVAN Boris!? BORIS It's not time! I don't understand . . . (DJ rushes in.) DJ I've got to turn on the Emergency Radio Frequency. BORIS You are the Emergency Frequency! DJ Baked turnips, you're right! But I already played a People's Service Announcement, and no CSR's have been scheduled today. (BORIS draws a pistol.) BORIS This isn't a Civilian Survival Rehearsal, comrade. DJ Hey, what is this? BORIS Into the station. Very slowly. Very carefully. (DJ back up into the studio, followed by BORIS and IVAN.) DJ (as he's going) Those sirens -- it takes a drill or the real thing for them to go off. Everyone's supposed to turn on the Emergency Radio Frequency and get instructions when the sirens go off. But I have no instructions! What do I say? BORIS You will go on the air and tell them that this is only a test. Do not panic. Relax. Go about your business. Pour a vodka. This is only a test. Got it? DJ Only a test? BORIS That's what you tell them. That's what people will hear all over the Soviet Union. Š DJ I don't understand. BORIS It's very simple. You are under attack. DJ In that case, our missiles are retaliating this very moment. BORIS Wrong. Your missiles are incapacitated. We have a new technology. The neutron bombs are going to be very painless. DJ Neutron bombs? BORIS Very clean and very selective. We'll even save all your buildings. This will be the shortest and most sanitary war in human history. DJ These neutron bombs -- they are . . . American? BORIS American. Now get on the air and tell your people this is only a test. (The DJ goes on the air; BORIS is pointing the gun at his head.) DJ This is Moscow Emergency Frequency. This is Moscow Emergency Frequency. (IVAN draws a pistol and points it at BORIS's head.) IVAN Hold it! Sorry, Boris. The American neutron bombs have been permanently delayed. BORIS This is no time for jokes, Ivan. We have to get down to the bomb shelter. IVAN No neutron bombs and no need to go to the shelter. We also have a new technology. BORIS But your missiles are incapacitated. Š IVAN And so are your neutron bombs. But we are close to weapons that will make your American neutron bomb look like a cap pistol. It's just a matter of time, Boris. DJ I'm supposed to be on the air! What do I say? BORIS I still have him covered, Ivan. The barrel is right behind his skull. IVAN As mine is behind yours, Boris. A stupid trade, don't you think? You, the CIA's top agent, for a lowly disc jockey. BORIS That lowly disc jockey is your boss, Ivan. Anton Basilovik, KGB Chief of Discrete Terrorism. You're a fool not to know. BORIS Basilovik? I don't believe you. DJ It's true. I am Basilovik. You work for me, Ivan. I sign your food stamps. IVAN How do I know this is true? Prove it. DJ I can prove it. It's to your advantage, Boris. BORIS Indeed, it is. DJ I can give him the KGB secret handshake. It's known only to those who graduate from the Advanced Institute. BORIS You know this handshake, Ivan? IVAN Of course. I can't believe the great Basilovik would plant himself as a disc jockey. DJ That's the beauty of it, Ivan. IVAN Then give me the handshake. DJ Boris, I'm going to have to get up to show him.Š BORIS No funny socialism. (DJ rises, as BORIS keeps the gun at his head, IVAN keeping the gun at BORIS' head. Suddenly DJ draws a pistol and points it at the head of IVAN.) IVAN What is this? DJ Listen to me, Boris. Listen very carefully. I know you want to know what happened -- how we could stop your neutron bombs so easily. The secret to our new technology is in the mind of Ivan here. Perhaps you know him better as . . . Professor Ivan Kraslovitky. BORIS The laser genius? DJ Exactly. The very laser technology that incapacitated your neutron bombs. BORIS The greatest genius since Einstein -- you, Ivan? A double agent? IVAN Checkmate, Boris. BORIS I still have Basilovik's life in my hands. DJ You do that, Boris, and I'll also pull the trigger. The secret of the laser satellite will be gone with Ivan's brain. IVAN If I go, you go, Boris. BORIS If I go, you go, Basilovik. DJ If I go, you go, Ivan. IVAN You already said that. (A pause: the sirens continue: the threesome are circling now, each with a gun at the head of the other.)Š (As the lights stay up on the threesome, a spot comes up on NATASHA downstage, and she addresses the audience:) NATASHA As soon as I heard the sirens I thought, Lenin's liver!, it's another malfunction and now they'll say they have to improve the equipment again, which means they have to raise taxes again. More money out of my paycheck and out of Nicolai's paycheck. They never schedule a Civilian Survival Rehearsal on Sunday -- they schedule them on Friday, so they can go home early after checking the equipment. Or go to a bistro. The phone rings and I guess it's Nicolai, calling to complain, "here we go again, Moscow is falling apart at the seams." But it's my friend Lyuba, who worries that it's the real thing. How absurd! We know the equipment is malfunctioning all the time. I had a dream, Lyuba says. I tell her to drink some vodka for her dream and don't worry. The phone rings again and this time it's Nicolai: "Take the children to the Public Shelter," he says. "And hurry!" Nicky, what are you talking about? They never have a CSR on Sunday. This is another ploy to raise taxes. "All the factories are closing," he says. "America has launched an attack." No, impossible. Even the Americans aren't that crazy. I know, our government says we can survive a nuclear war but nobody believes this, the Russian people understand that this is still another excuse to raise taxes, all this nonsense about building underground shelters. Who would want to live in the aftermath of such a war? Besides, we've paid a very dear price for peace, so many Russian soldiers dead in World War II . . . But Americans never fight wars on their own soil. What do they know of suffering? Maybe this makes them restless. "How can you trust a people with no culture?" Nicolai asks. This is a valid point. America has no opera. America has no poetry. They lock up their poets in Universities, away from the people. America thinks music is rock and roll. What major figure has their literature produced? Well, William Faulkner, but he's the exception. Where are the Tolstoys and Chekhovs and Dostoevskis? Remember -- America is only two hundred years old! A mere child in the international community, and children can be reckless. "Hurry and take the children to the Public Shelter," Nicolai says. "Everything will be all right."Š NATASHA (cont.) What an optimist Nicolai is! Who would want to live in this world after such a war? I hang up and call the children: "Nicolai! Marta! Vladi! Yes, I hear the sirens. It means . . . well, I want you to get your jamies and a change of clothes. No, we're not waiting for daddy. Just do as I say. "Marta, don't cry. I don't like the sirens either. It means we have to go down to the shelter for a while, that's all. This is a test. They're testing the equipment, is all. And our test is to hurry down to the shelter. We don't want to fail, do we? Hurry along. Yes, you can take bring your books. You can bring your chess sets." I don't believe this is happening. Why don't the sirens stop? This can't be the real thing, people are circulating petitions against the real thing all the time. They've come by our apartment more than once, asking for signatures, asking people to write the editor, not to pay their taxes. I thought they had lots of people behind them. I didn't think my signature would matter one way or another, they had plenty of support. "Okay, children, let's go! Papa's going to meet us in the shelter!" I'd better take our robes. A change of clothes for Nicolai and myself. Toothbrushes! The children are calling, "Hurry, momma, hurry, hurry! People are running down the street!" I don't want these sirens! I protested against this! Where's the petition? I want to sign the petition! I want to write the editor! I want to sing at the rally! I won't pay my taxes, do you hear? I won't pay one ruble for this war! I meant to protest -- I was there in spirit . . .! (Hold on NATASHA's face, frightened, shocked: then the focus fades to the threesome again, circling, each with a gun at the head of the other, circling like trapped animals. Finally:) DJ Perhaps we should reach an understanding about this . . . (The continue to circle. The sirens rise to a loud wailing, the lights dim to BLACKOUT. In the darkness, we still hear the sirens, very close now, coming from all around us. We hear the sirens in the darkness. Sirens.)Š (Then: sudden, chilling, deafening SILENCE.) (The play is over.) __________ APPENDIX YOU AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A HOUND DOG as sung by the Russian pop star, Danny Car Wash Vwee nee-chee-VOH noh ah-KHOHT-neech-yah sah-BAH-ka Fsig-DAH kahk LO-sheet star-rye-YAH (repeat 2 lines above) Nee lah-VEE-lee nee krah-LEE-kah Nee khag-DAH neh-BWEE-lee nee droo-GAH "Ah-ree-stah-KRAHT!", ah-NEE skah-ZAHL-lee Nee-PRAHV-dah EH-tah BWEE-lah (repeat 2 lines above) Nee lah-VEE-lee nee krah-LEE-kah Nee khag-DAH neh-BWEE-lee nee droo-GAH