PILGRIM: Happy First Thanksgiving. Thank you for having us to your tepee.
INDIAN: How!
(The INDIAN holds his hand in the air with his palm facing out.)
INDIAN: That means “Hello” in Indian.
PILGRIM: We came here on the Mayflower. It is that big ship over there. It has nothing to do with the Niña, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria. That is something else completely.
INDIAN: We are having a powwow; it is like a meeting.
(PILGRIM takes a bite of food.)
PILGRIM: This is good. What is it?
INDIAN: That is corn. It is also called maize.
PILGRIM: Yes, like a labyrinth.
INDIAN: (mumbles something inaudible about David Bowie.)
PILGRIM: Thank you for introducing corn to me. This turkey is good, too.
INDIAN: We hunted it. We are hunters and gatherers.
PILGRIM: Excuse me one second; the buckle to my shoe has come undone.
(PILGRIM bends down and buckles his shoe.)
PILGRIM: This is a nice neighborhood.
INDIAN: It is called Plymouth Rock. It does not refer to one single rock. We are not eating dinner on some large rock sitting by the water, even though people might one day think that. We just moved here. We used to own Manhattan, but sold it for $24. They paid us in buttons and arrowheads.
PILGRIM: (sarcastically.) Wow, $24! That, uh … sounds like a good deal.
INDIAN: We have casinos and sell cheap cigarettes.
(INDIAN lights a peace pipe, adjusts his feather headdress.)
PILGRIM: I have a buckle on my hat, I think for no reason.