ROBERT





CLARY

Robert Clary went to Buchenwald when he was a teenager. At the camp, he and his friends schemed to take advantage of their situation, enjoyed very nice dinners, and the most comfortable pillows in all of Eastern Europe. Robert Clary was guarded by incompetent men, surrounded by bureaucrats who just couldn't seem to ever really get anything done, watched a massive power structure fail around him, and he rode the system for all it was worth, making a mockery of it. Robert Clary walked around the camp with a group of forty observers, who tittered, and sometimes snorted, and often gave full, hearty belly laughs at his antics, and broke into fits of applause when a caper of his happened to succeed. Robert Clary was never scared in Buchenwald--he was simply clever and quick and full of ideas. No one died, and no one got hurt, and no one felt the slightest discomfort. It was imprisonment, sure, and Robert Clary considered escape. But it could've been worse--it could've been worse. And then Robert Clary went to Hollywood, became an actor, played a Frenchman, and watched as, systematically, six million of his friends were killed by other actors working for scale rates. They sat together at the craft services table and ate green beans and ham, and Robert Clary ate small hunks of moldy bread and drank water from rusty pipes. Robert Clary pretended like it was the worst thing, the worst thing, the worst thing that had ever, ever happened to him and he was very convincing.