JOE [taking a mouthful as he shuts the door behind him; walking to Hennessy's desk] You've been looking for me?
HENNESSY. Just coming to work?
JOE [innocently] Who, me?
HENNESSY. We start our days at eight-thirty in this office; we pick up our assignments-.
JOE. I picked up mine last night.
HENNESSY. What assignment was that?
JOE. The Princess, eleven forty-five.
HENNESSY [mouth open] You've already been to the interview?
JOE. Well, sure; I just got back. [Taking another mouthful].
HENNESSY. Well, well, well; all my apologies.
JOE [turning to leave] 'S alright.
HENNESSY [stopping him] Er, this is very interesting.
JOE [trying to get away again] Nah, just routine.
HENNESSY. Tell me, tell me: did she answer all the questions on the list?
JOE. Well, of course she did. [Rummaging through his pockets] I've got 'em right here, somewhere.
HENNESSY. Er, don't disturb yourself; I have a copy here. [Looking at the piece of paper] How did Her Highness react to the idea of a European Federation?
JOE. She thought it was just fine.
HENNESSY. She did?
JOE [seeing the need to flesh it out, leaning against the desk in thought] Well, she thought that there'd be...two effects.
HENNESSY. Two.
JOE. The er, direct and the...indirect.
HENNESSY. Oh, remarkable.
JOE. Naturally she thought that the indirect would not be as...direct...as the direct. That is, not right away. Later on, of course, well, nobody knows.
HENNESSY. Well, well, well; that was a shrewd observation! They fool you you know, these royal kids; they've got a lot more on the ball than we suspect. [Looking at the paper again] How did she feel about the future friendship of nations?
JOE. Youth.
HENNESSY. Yep?
JOE. She felt that, er [nervously walking around the desk, sitting on the corner], the youth of the world must lead the way to a better...[he nervously slides a piece of Hennessy's desk equipment a few inches] world.
HENNESSY. Hmm-hmm, [sliding it back] original. Er, by the way, what was she wearing?
JOE [he pauses blankly] Oh, you mean what did she have on?
HENNESSY [chuckling] Well, that's usually what it means. [Joe nervously adjusts his collar, getting up off the desk again] Er, what's the matter, is it a little warm in here for you?
JOE [walking back to the front of the desk] No, no, I just hurried over here.
HENNESSY. Oh, naturally, with a story of these dimensions. Did you say she was wearing gray?
JOE. No, I didn't say that.
HENNESSY. Well, she usually wears gray.
JOE. Oh well, er, it was a...kind of a gray.
HENNESSY. Oh, I think I know the dress you mean; it has a gold collar-.
JOE. That's the one, that's the one (HENNESSY [smiling, sitting back in agreement] That's it.) Yeah, I didn't know exactly how to describe it but that's it, yeah.
HENNESSY. I think you described it very well. [His expression changes as he sits forward, standing up dramatically]-In view of the fact that Her Highness was taken violently ill at three o'clock this morning, put to bed with a high fever, and has had all her appointments for today cancelled en toto!
JOE [helplessly] En toto?
HENNESSY. Yes, Mr. Bradley: en toto.
JOE [swallows audibly] Certainly pretty hard to swallow.
HENNESSY. In view of the fact that you just left her, of course. But here it is, Mr. Bradley [picking up a paper]: all over the front page of every newspaper in Rome! [he hands him the paper].
JOE. Alright, alright; I overslept. It can happen to anybody!
HENNESSY. If you ever get up early enough to read a morning paper you might discover little news events [pointing to the article in the paper]-little items of general interest [Joe looks at the paper and stares at the picture of the Princess-the same woman as in his apartment but in a regal gown, necklace and tiara] that might prevent you in the future from getting immersed in such a gold-plated, triple-decked, star-spangled lies as you have just told me! [As Joe continues to stare at the picture, open-mouthed] If I was you, I would try some other line of business-like mattress testing.
JOE. Is this the Princess?
HENNESSY. Yes, Mr. Bradley, [pointing to the picture] that is the Princess. It isn't Annie Oakley, Dorothy Lamour, or Madame Chiang Kai-Shek. Take a good look at her [Joe closes his eyes in disbelief]: you might be interviewing her again some day!
JOE [looking at Mr. Hennessy] Am I fired?
HENNESSY. No, you're not fired. When I wanna fire you you won't have to ask! [Joe looks back and forth and walks straight out of the office, carrying the paper]-you'll know you're fired! [Joe walks to the other end of the newsroom, stopping. Shaking his head, seeing that Joe has left the office] The man's mad.  Joe opens the other door, closing it carefully behind him and dials the wall-phone in the small foyer. Someone comes in from the front door and Joe watches him nervously until the man goes into the office.