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SCIENTIST—(Puts down a vial and looks at Boog Powell. Then he moves to center) Who am I? Who am I?
(Music up, softly)
BOOG—Yes, who are you?
SCIENTIST—(Sadly, head down) They say I am mad; a scientist gone wild. But they're all wrong, of course. I just want recognition, that's all. I want the adoration that Jonas Salk got. Or De Bakey; he just transplants hearts, for heaven's sake. I have a much greater invention and nobody will listen. Why, I create machines that look and act like people, but....
(Music up, full. The Scientist now strides to the front of the stage and sings)
SCIENTIST—THEY LAUGHED AT MY HUMAN MACHINES/MADE OUT OF PLASTICIZED GENES./AND WORSE, THEY SAID I COULDN'T BUILD A ROBOT/THAT COULD DO ALMOST AS MUCH AS GOD WROUGHT./WHY IBM LAUGHED AT ME,/AT ME, THE GENTLE INVENTOR,/AND I WAS BANNED FROM THE UNIVAC CENTER./IMAGINE! I HAD ONLY THE FINEST INTENTIONS/WITH MY WALKING AND TALKING INVENTIONS!/BUT, NO. I WAS THRUST FROM THE SCIENCE COMMUNITY...
BOOG—(Joining the song) WITH IMPUNITY!
SCIENTIST—(Wheels and points at him) AH HAH! EVEN YOU SCORN ME,/AS MY FELLOW LAUREATES HAVE SHORN ME/OF HONORS! BUT NOW I'LL FIX ALL YOU CRITICS,/ALL YOU DOUBTING, MENTAL ARTHRITICS,/(He points dramatically at Boog) FOR I'VE BUILT A ROBOT LIKE YOU/WHO CAN HIT—AND PLAY FIRST BASE, TOO!
SCIENTIST—YOU'LL SEE! HE'S PROGRAMMED TO BAT WHAT I DICTATE,/EVEN BUNT OR SLIDE...