"What if it were possible that my Group withdraws its complaint?" Carol asks. She tells him it would be an act of friendship, but John is dubious, asking in exchange for what. They derive nothing from it, she says, but might speak to the committee. "GIVEN WHAT?" is John's query; Carol presents him with a list of books that her group finds questionable. John is aghast, sputtering phrases like "Academic freedom." They, too, have their agenda, Carol reminds.
One of the books on the list is John's; Carol's group wants it censored as a "representative example of the university." John grows angry, responding, "Get out of here Get the fuck out of my office." It will happen whether or not he helps, Carol threatens. John will simply lose the group's support and, with it, his job. She hands him a statement that they wish him to sign. He grows calm and tells Carol it is out of the question. He has a responsibility, he says, to himself, his legacy, his job, and to keep that book in circulation. He professes to Carol that he has not been home in two days, thinking this matter out in a hotel. The phone rings, and John doesn't pick it up, saying that Carol is wrong and dangerous and that she can "go to hell" for such a suggestion as banning his book. Carol keeps repeating the fact that John has not been home in two days and advises that, "I think you should pick up the phone."
On the telephone is Jerry. People have been worried about John, but he assures Jerry that he's fine, even if he no longer has a job. Jerry tells John something which makes John incredulous and upset; it obviously has something to do with Carol, as John tells Jerry, "She's, she's, she's here with me." He hangs up midstream and asks Carol, "What does this mean?"
Carol says she thought he knew that according to the law, John tried to rape her, pressing his body into her when she left the office earlier. She says that her group may pursue criminal charges, as battery and attempted rape. John tells her to go and that he wishes to talk to his lawyer; the phone rings again, and he picks it up immediately. It's John's wife Grace. He tells her he can't talk and calls her "Baby." Carol asks if it's his wife, to which he responds that it is not her business. John again tells her to go.
She begins to leave, but on her way out, Carol tells John not to call his wife "baby." He asks, "What?" and Carol repeats her command. As she begins to leave the room, John grabs Carol and begins to beat her. He calls her a "vicious little bitch," who is destroying his life with political correctness. He knocks her to the floor and can't believe she thought he was trying to rape her. John picks up a chair as if to hit her with it, calling her a "little cunt," whom he would never touch. As she cowers beneath him, he lowers the chair, arranges things on his desk and tries to regain control and composure.
Carol merely looks at him, saying, "Yes. That's right," to herself.
This final act features a power struggles and changing self-awareness in the characters. Carol realizes she has power over John and attempts to use it to express what she says is her agenda. She also expresses a somewhat ambiguous, impersonal perspective on the power conflict. The reason they cannot communicate throughout this act, as Carol points out, is because of his hate for the power she holds over him. John may have more reason to hate Carol personally, as she holds this power only through her machinations and attempts to gain it; however, those who hold this power by default and as a function of the system may be hated for the power without any comment on their personality. That is, you may hate your boss simply because he is your boss, Carol says. To an extent, we wonder if that is at the seat of her grudge against John.
Mamet does not choose to elaborate on the particulars of Carol's agenda, merely having her discuss her revolt against the oppression which John and similar others offer. While this absence focuses the play on Carol's actions and the meaning they have in relation to political correctness, it clouds the issue by making Carol's motivations difficult to unearth. Carol expresses many frustrations at her socio-economic background, her relative impotence, and her simple lack of intelligence, but her more immediate motives for exploiting John and attempting his blackmail are hidden from the audience. By dint of the dramatic structure, the only part of Carol we see is the face she presents to John, and, as she wants to keep her motives a secret from him, she keeps them a secret from us. Perhaps Mamet wishes to use this absence to suggest that, no matter what the motivations, sensitivity to political correctness may be exploited.
As always, the play is notable in its lack of stage direction, and this act brings it to a head. There are few textual indicators of the emotions of the characters, other than their dialogue, and so most of the interpretation comes in performance. For example, mid-act, after Carol's tirade about John's lack of belief in anything, John becomes very terse and says no more than five or six different words. Is he angry? Guilty? Humbled? Only through performance can the audience tell what emotion John feels. In real life, as opposed to much theatre, people do not wear their emotions on their sleeves, and it is difficult to decipher what a complex character is feeling at any given moment. The most helpful clues are seldom the things people say themselves, but instead body language, tone, attitude, etc.; Mamet paints his dramas in the same realistic manner, leaving ambiguity with which the actors and directors can play.