The All New Leave it to Beaver presents
 ďSaddam, The Butcher of MayfieldĒ

The Scene: A small, brightly lit eating nook, adjacent to a large immaculate kitchen. A bountiful bouquet of daisies sits atop an embroidered tablecloth on a round linoleum coffee table set for four. Beaver is sitting quietly with his hands folded on his lap, while June hustles around making last minute preparations for the evening meal. She is wearing a brightly striped blue and white dress with full petticoat.  The door opens, and Ward shouts ďHi honey, Iím home.Ē [Cue music] Ward enters the room, dressed in a royal blue jogging suit, adorned with the presidential seal.


Ward: Hello Beaver. [tussles hair].


Beaver: Hiya Dad. Guess what IÖ


Ward: Whatís for dinner June?


[June turns around to reveal a large round China platter laden with strip steaks. Using a large kitchen fork she places one on each plate, giving the largest to President Ward]


June: Itís your favorite, dear, meat and new potatoes.


Ward: Thatís great, honey. Iím so hungry I could eat a horse.


[Ward takes a large bite and begins to chew. His face becomes increasingly grim]




Ward: Blagghh. [Spitting the meat out onto the table]: This is a horse!



June: [admonishingly] Ward!


Ward: [loudly] What the fuck is this?


Beaver: Gee dad, do youÖ


Ward: [rising up and standing over June threateningly]: This is shit! What the hell are you trying to do, poison me? Do you think you could eat this? Do you, June? Itís tough as leather.


June [pleading]: WardÖ


Ward: [face red, yelling]: I SAID EAT IT, BITCH! EAT IT! [Grabbing Juneís fork as a secret service agent enters the room to remove her knife]: NOT LIKE THAT! EAT WITH YOUR HANDS! EAT IT LIKE A DOG!


Beaver: Dad, dogs donít have hands.




Ward: So howís school going, Beav?


[June is crying silently, biting daintily at the large slab of meat she has in her hands]


Beaver: [cheerfully]: Pretty good, dad. All Bís and Cís.


Ward [proudly]: Iíll say thatís pretty darn good. Trying to show up your old dad, eh?


[warmhearted laughs]


June: [mouth full]: Sna my faw.


Beaver: Whatís that Mom?


June [swallowing]: Itís not my fault!


Ward: Well, just whoís fault would you say this meal is, little missy?


June: [sniffling]: Saddam. The Butcher.


Ward [eyes opening wide]: Saddam!


June: [pleadingly]: Yes dear. Ever since you insisted on moving the White House to Mayfield, I havenít been able to get a decent piece of meatÖ


Ward: [rising] Youíll have to excuse me.


Beaver: Where you going dad?


Ward:  {ominously]: Iíve got an appointment with a madman.


[audience applause. Curtain closes. Commercials roll]


--- later ---


The scene: We open on Main Street, where President Cleaver has gathered a group of business associates and international meat inspectors. Underneath a green vinyl awning we see a sign indicating that we are in front of Saddamís Fine Meats. Frenchie the Chef [guest starring Dom Deloise] is obviously drunk as he stumbles upon the scene.


Frenchie: Zoot Allures! What are you doing?


Ward: Donít let it concern you, Frenchman. Saddam is a horrible butcher, and weíre going to tear his little playhouse down.


Frenchie: And I am a chef! How would I know that tomorrow you wonít come after me!


Ward: You donít.


[Ward makes a quick hand gesture and a large inspector gets down on his hands and knees behind Frenchy].


Frenchie: ButÖ


[Uncle Ernie appears from a secret hiding place and gives the chef a shove. Frenchie tumbles to the sidewalk, his large white hat rolling into the gutter.]


Uncle Ernie: Froggy goes boom!


Everyone: Ha Ha Ha.


[Audience: Ha HA HA HA HA HA HA]


[Ward]: Okay, lets go.


[The group files into the butcher shop. Behind the counter stands Saddam (played by guest star James Gandolfini in a black wig) wearing a large blood stained apron.]


Saddam, [nervously]: Ahh, Mister CleaverÖ


Ward: President.


Saddam: President Cleaver. How may I help you today?


Ward: Cut the crap, Saddam. I know you have Sirloins of Massive Deliciousness in here somewhere.


Saddam: I always show Mrs. Cleaver my finest wares. We have some lovely lamb todayÖ


Ward: I said cut the crap. Where are they? Where are those special steaks?


Saddam [craftily]: What if I say that I donít have any?


Ward: Then Iíll have to kick your butt because Iíll know that youíre lying.


Saddam [nervously]: Well then, what if I say I do have them and agree to turn them over to you.


Ward: Then Iíll have to kick your butt because it means you've had Sirloins of Massive Deliciousness all along, and were willing to hide them from us.


Special Agent Frito: Look at those sorry ass chicken wings. You know that he fed these to his own people?


Ward: Evil scum. Those wings could kill a man.


Inspector Benson [emerging from the back room]: Take a look at this, sir!


Saddam: But, but, thatís just hamburgerÖ


Ward: And just what is hamburger, Saddam? Ground ham?


Saddam [tearfully]: No, itís ground beef, butÖ


Inspector Benson: This is high test stuff, sir. The very finest Argentinean cut.


Ward: Take him out to the alley, boys. Iíll join you in a minute. [Applause, cheers].


[audience applause. Curtain closes. Commercials roll]


Scene: Back at the kitchen table. Everyone is all smiles.


Beaver: Gee dad, these burgers are delicious.


June: They certainly are good, Ward.


Ward, [beaming]: Nothing but the best for my family. [A huge slice of tomato slides off the burger and onto his pants]: What the fuck is this?


[Fade out. Credits]


© 2002, Mark Hoback

© 2002, Mark Hoback