(March 4, 1791. Montpelier. BETSY and MS. DAVIS stare out the window listening to the crowds of dozens on the street below.)
CROWD A: We want a new name!
CROWD B: New Connecticut's lame!
CROWD A: We want a new name!
CROWD B: New Connecticut's lame!
(BETSY slams the window shut.)
BETSY: They're relentless.
MS. DAVIS: Must you really be slamming things like that?
BETSY: Ruthless really. They wouldn't have lasted two minutes at the '87 Convention before being shown the door.
MS. DAVIS: It's right over there. I suggest you use it!
BETSY: Oh Marjorie please.
MS. DAVIS: You're behaving like my husband.
BETSY: Thank you.
MS. DAVIS: You're so worked up. I've never see you like this.
BETSY: I'm nervous.
MS. DAVIS: They'll have this territory named by tea time. Then we can go celebrate. Jacob hired a band of drifters. They're quite good really.
BETSY: Who knows I'm here?
MS. DAVIS: Everyone does. Absolutely everyone in New Connecticut. Jacob wanted you here to be recognized for this.
BETSY: I've made a huge mistake.
MS. DAVIS: Compose yourself. You're acting like a chipmunk.
BETSY: Tell them I'm ill. Tell them I've left. Don't force me to face them.
MS. DAVIS: You should be proud. Let me see your sketch.
(MS. DAVIS crossed to the giant easel that's been hiding in the corner of the room. BETSY intercepts her - physically.)
MS. DAVIS: My heavens!
BETSY: No, it's not ready yet.
MS. DAVIS: Chipmunk chipmunk in my way.
BETSY: Look, Marjorie, I kinda just threw this together. I never anticipated we'd have more than thirteen.
MS. DAVIS: Don't say that in front of Jacob. He's put his blood into this place and won't rest until it's signed into Statehood.
BETSY: Fourteen is such a clunky number. Aesthetically speaking.
MS. DAVIS: How hard can it be to throw one measly star on? Let me take a look at the sketch, it can't be that bad.
(MS. DAVIS forces her way through BETSY.)
BETSY: Marjorie, no!
(MS. DAVIS eyes the sketch of the next flag of the United States of America. It's horrific.)
MS. DAVIS: ...
BETSY: I warned you.
MS. DAVIS: You intend to sew that?
BETSY: It's just a sketch. An idea. I didn't plan on their being a fourteenth when I planned the original.
MS. DAVIS: You didn't plan? You didn't plan!? (She runs to the window and opens it.) Here that boys and girls. Betsy Ross didn't plan!
CROWD MEMBER: Who what now?
BETSY: That is highly uncalled for...
MS. DAVIS: You listen and listen good chipmunk. New Connecticut is why my husband gets himself out of bed every morning. New Connecticut is why I've been parading around this place from town to town spreading pamphlets like Thomas Paine in a room full of literates. New Connecticut is why I have been without love-making for two soon to be three months.
BETSY: Marjorie, you're over-
MS. DAVIS: We didn't pay you talk. We didn't pay you to whine. We paid you to adapt and redesign your precious little baby... because God forbid anyone else sews a measly little star on the brainchild of world renown artiste Betsy Ross!!
BETSY: It's not like that.
MS. DAVIS: Your sketch is insulting to my husband and to this soon-to-be-State.
BETSY: You put so much pressure on me.
MS. DAVIS: You make me want to vomit.
(JACOB bursts in the room; he radiates pride.)
JACOB: Vermont!
MS. DAVIS: No honey. I said vomit.
JACOB: And I, Vermont! We have a name, we're a state. Betsy, the gang is dying to meet you. Cannot wait to see what you've done with the thing. Marjorie, you look - splendid. (He winks.)
BETSY: I have a sketch I can show them... it'll have to do.
JACOB: Great. See you girls down there!
(JACOB exits.)
BETSY: You know, you said some awful things to me that I would never in a million years say to you.
MS. DAVIS: Yeah, well, welcome to Vermont, Betsy!
BETSY: What does that mean?
MS. DAVIS: See you downstairs chipmunk. If you know what's good for you, you'll whip up a sketch that approaches decency. I'll be at the bar looking "splendid". (To herself:) Tonight's the night.
(MS. DAVIS exits. BETSY tears the sketch off the easel and begins drawing a new flag. We hear:)
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