Playwriting on historical topic History Research Paper

Conspiracy of the JFK assassination
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Institution
Date
The White House Conspiracy: JFK assassination
One night in 1963. Events in Oswald's Apartment
The room is filled with dirt and dust. Two mouse cages sit on the floor. There are eight people in the room: Oswald, Jack, Steve, McManaman, and ten tired and fatigued Cubans. Jack is seated in a corner, cleaning up a .22 rifle with a scope on it. He looks shabbily dressed, his hair unkempt and unshaven. A record player is playing a speech by Fidel Castro in Spanish.
Oswald: Mac, say hello to Jack.
McManaman: Howdy, Jack?
Jack: [angry face. To Oswald] what the hell is he doing here?
McManaman: Damn you, man. [The two guys engage in a tussle. Oswald successfully separates them. Jack does not want an outsider in their gang.]
Oswald: [To Mc] Jack's not in a beautiful mood. He's alright, though. We are having a little meeting over here. Do you hear the guy talking about the player? That is Fidel Castro. The Son-of-a-dog president of Cuba. And he is going to die real soon.
Cubans: [Together in Spanish] Muerte la Fidel! Muerte la puta!
Steve: You all irritating. Stop it! What are all these 'muchachos' doing here anyway? I can't bear the noise!
Oswald: Don't be such an insensitive dude.
Steve: Just get all these riff-raffs outta here already!
Oswald: Okay, it's okay.
Later on, that evening, only Jack, Steve, McManaman, Oswald, and three Cubans are left. Jack pulls out his gun. He is drunk and seems obsessed with Castro and Kennedy.
Oswald:[Waving a gun] Kennedy has really messed us up all this time. He's taken all our armor, ten thousand rounds, one thousand kilos of gunpowder, and c-4s. If we want a free Cuba, we must do away with Castro.
Cuban: That donkey Kennedy won't let us. How can we eliminate him?
Steve: [Carrying a tumbler on his hand, walks with a slight limb.] It's a real problem. Castro is a real problem to eliminate.
Oswald: That's easy. I have heard about rockets in an umbrella. I know about a few poisons. We stick it to his food, and off he dies without a trace.
Cuban: Why don't we deal with the main problem first? That piece of meat Kennedy. He is even bootlicking Khrushchev. I can't even call him President Kennedy. [The Cubans get drunk and leave one after the other. Oswald has had a couple more drinks. He can barely stand upright]
Oswald: For Kennedy, we should take a knife and stub his 'stines and kill him. I mean it. If I get a week's notice, I'll kill! Right in the freaking White House. [Jack listens carefully]
McManaman: C'mon Oswald. You never gonna get that guy.
Oswald: No? Mark my words. You'll see it on the news. And it will be blamed on Castro. Then the whole nation will invade Cuba. We only have to get Kennedy in the open. [Steve laughs and tries to change the subject.]
Steve: Oswald always with the witty scheme. Let's have some more champagne.
McManaman: What about the Secret Service? We can use the cops…
Oswald: [Lit up] If that is planned right, we can succeed. I actually know someone who even touched Eisenhower. We only need three snipers in three different locations. An office building with a high-powered shooter rifle. The aim is to triangulate the crossfire. One diversionary shot gets the SS looking the other way, then – BOOM! The kill shot. From where it's least expected. The important thing is one person must be sacrificed, and the frenzy in the crowd will get the job done. I could even disappear into Mexico, someplace with no extradition. [The rest listen. Jack is playing with his rifle. Steve turns cold]
Steve: Can't we just drop this subject?
McManaman: I don't bother much about it. Everybody wants to make himself look important, especially in a world full of Homos.
Oswald: You wanna know why I'm gonna squeeze Ken in the balls? Cause he stole the freaking elections. Nixon would have been the best President until Ken wrecked this freaking country. He got black people all over asking for their rights. Kennedy promised them too much. A revolution is coming. We are going to kill this communist.
The Evening of November 22nd, 1963.
The office room on a 2nd-floor apartment is brightly lit. The desks are covered in files and plain papers. Two recliner chairs are behind two desks on opposite sides of the room. There is a TV set on a small desk next to the door. The door is slightly open.
[Agent Hayes, Collin's chief investigator, is standing in a room. He is a burly head in his 30s – putting on a universal expression]
Collins: What's up with you, Hayes?
Hayes: Boss, our President, had been shot in Dallas a few minutes ago.
Collins: [Shock and a look of horror on his eyes] Oh no! … Is it that bad?
Hayes: Prolly so. I think the bullet got his head.
[Collins turns on the television set. On the TV screen, A breaking news red tape is across the bottom of the screen.]
News Man: Apparently, three bullets have been found. Governor Connally also appears to be fatally injured. The President was rushed to Parkland Memorial hospital by the Secret Service. We are told the bullet penetrated the base of the throat and came through the backside. A priest has administered the last rites.
Collins: Come on, John, you can pull through this… There is still a chance!
Reporter: [On the TV] From Dallas, Texas. It is apparently official. The President is dead. The President died at 1 p.m. Central Standard Time. [Pause] The vice president Lyndon Johnson has also left the hospital in Dallas. Presumably, he will be taking an oath of office to become the 36th president of the US shortly.
Collins: I didn't mostly agree with him, for he was too liberal, but I respected him. He had swagger … Damn. I'm ashamed to be an American today. [His eyes are flooding with tears]
Hayes: [Hands him a tissue paper] Dammit, these assassins.
News Man: Many arrests have been made. Everyone looking suspicious is detained. People are still unable to comprehend what is happening.
Collins: Please turn off that goddamn TV. [Hayes switches the TV off] What's really wrong with this country? [Takes out a cigar, puts it in his mouth, and lights it up]
Hayes:[Mutters something] Boss, you really can't smoke in….
Collins: Goddammit, Hayes. Just get to work already.
[Sirens are heard off the window. Hayes pulls down the blinds, and in the vicinity, police chase cars approach the station. Hayes runs down. Collins keeps lamenting how dreadful the country has become. He rings Liz, his wife]
Collins: [On the News] Hey sweetie? Have you seen the news?
Liz: No honey. What's going on?
Hayes: [Bursts into the office…] they have made an arrest boss…
Collins: [To the phone] Talk to you later, honey. [To Hayes] Who is it?
Hayes: Oswald. That tiny guy was brought in last year for illegal possession of a gun.
Collins: Really?
Hayes: Yes. I'm also surprised. What can that tiny guy with a rifle do? Can he even lift the gun with one hand?
Collins:Never say never, Hayes. I already saw too much of this in Vietnam.
Hayes: Well…
Collins:I'm out of here.
In the interior of a car, Collins is scrolling through his newspaper. Seated next to him is congressman Russell.
Russell: I can smell where this mess is coming from. We have meddled in Vietnam's affairs more than we can handle. Now it's payback time. [Sips a whiskey]
Collins: [Seems deep in thought] … Westmoreland has asked for more troops…
Russell: It's sad the way they are screwing up this country. Hippies are openly running around high on drugs. These young people, sometimes you cannot tell if it's a boy or a girl. The other day I saw a pregnant young girl; she exposed her belly and painted the words, 'love child' on it. Values have gone down the drain… it's never going to get better with that Johnson in the white house Coll, is it?
Collins: I sometimes feel things have gotten worse since J. F. K. was assassinated, senator
Russell: Well, from those incompetent Warren Commission fellows… don't even get me started. Nobody can tell me that Oswald kid did the shooting from that helluva bookstore.
Collins: Did the FBI even test fire the rifle? Just to be sure it worked?
Russell: Sure as hell, three snipers, and no one could even do it! Do they claim that Oswald got three clean shots with perfect precision from a manual bolt action gun in less than six seconds?
Collins: His marine buddies tell he wasn't any good too…
Russell: Average shooter would be lucky to get off two shots. And, believe me, the first shot is always the best. But here, the third shot was perfect. It doesn't add up... It's like they even got the crazy bullet boomerang all over the place and hit Kennedy and Connally seven times. One holy bullet that doesn't add the hell up.
Collins: Something always irked me about that since that day. I still can't make sense of it.
Russell: If I'd be the FBI, I'd round up fifty best snipers in the world and find out those who were I Texas that day. The Oswald duck made a good old-fashioned decoy.
Collins: You think other people were involved?
Russell:[Looks at Collins questioningly and laughs] Hell, you are the DA. You have read the Warren Report. Now, you tell me...