John A. Davison orders a pizza

A play in one act

[The stage is split in half. On the left, Davison's study--a room full of books, piles of books, thousands upon thousands of books. In the center a desk covered in manuscripts. Davison occupies the chair, quill in hand, dashing out another screed. Outside it is snowing, or raining, or sleeting.

On the right, a telephone on a card table. Seated at the table a youth, gender unimportant. Maintains perfect stillness until the phone rings--as it must.]



Davison: It is a frigid night, and possibly raining, snowing, sleeting perhaps. In five strokes of the quill I will have completely gutted Darwinism and replaced it with Bergism! Ah... but I am faint with hunger. To the telephone, anon! [He digs under stacks of manuscripts to find the phone. Success.] Hello, Domino's? I'd like to order a pizza. [to self] Damn these tiny buttons.

Youth: [picking up phone] Thank you for calling Domino's. How may I be of service?

Davison: I would like to order a pepperoni pizza. Extra cheese. Oh, and with olives.

Youth: Is that all?

Davison: That's about it. What's the total?

Youth: Twelve eighty including tax. Your phone number?

Davison: 555-6219. 232 4th Ave southeast... My name is John... John Davison... John A. Davison... I will not soon be forgotten. [awkward pause] I have my own blog.

Youth: [nonplussed] Uh... great. That pizza will be delivered in about a half hour. [tries to hang up]

Davison: Hold on there, youngster. Is it finished yet?

Youth: We've hardly had--

Davison: Okay... well... is it finished now?

Youth: Sir, I haven't even called the order in--

Davison: How about now?

Youth: No.

Davison: Now?

Youth: Still no.

Davison: I've changed my mind. I want salami instead of pepperoni. Genoa salami. With the fatty parts cut out.

Youth: I'm afraid we're--

Davison: Is it done yet?

Youth: Look, Mister John A. Davison, you have no idea how this works. Pizza doesn't appear magically when you say the word. It's a process. It takes time. Twenty minutes, plus driving time. Got it? Goodbye. [Youth and Davison hang up simultaneously]

Davison:[Davison picks up the phone again, dialing.] I have completely eviscerated Darwinism, you know.

Youth: You again? Look, Mr. Davison, the cheese is finished, and it's going in the oven, so--

Davison: Is it done?

Youth: Uh, no.

Davison: Then we have time to chat. You see, we deal here with fundamental differences in the way we view the world which I believe are rigidly fixed in our genome or, if I may use the term, "prescribed." I know that doen't sound right but I have no other explanation. There is also the problem of pride. Does anyone really expect those who have dedicated their professional lives to a phantom to easily come to grips with just that? Yet that is exactly what the situation boils down to. Can you imagine Dawkins conceding that everything he has ever written is meaningless drivel? In a way it is a blessing that Gould and Mayr were spared that realization but I am have no compassion for Dawkins whatsoever. It will be interesting to see how he responds to the inevitable. We shouldn't have to wait much longer.

Youth: I'm not sure exactly what you're talking about--

Davison: Well I guess nobody wants to hear about how many times life may or may not have been created. That is too bad. I may present that evidence anyway. For the moment let me explain how I intend to go about it.

Youth: [Slams phone down] Asshole.

Davison: [not missing a beat] As long as there exists simple criteria sufficient to account for a common ancestor, one can assume that such an ancestor existed. However, even that may not be so because it is possible that organisms which share a common genetic background may have independently aquired that condition through separate and independent evolutionary events. That is to say that evolution may have been repeatable. I do not favor this view but it cannot be eliminated at present.... Ah... What's that beeping noise? [Looks quizzically at the phone. Hangs up the receiver. Pauses. Picks it up again.]

[masking voice with an atrocious accent.] Ees thees Daw-mee-nose?


[Fadeout]



Update: Thanks for the link, PZ. Welcome, Pharyngulans. Check out "search me" for other humorous pieces. Update update: Davison has saved the best for last.

Update update update: Not content, Davison runs for office.