Characters:

Mya, 20’s
Dana, 50’s – 60’s
Jay, 50’s – 60’s

Setting: Dana and Jay’s House, Dinnertime

 

“Children begin by loving their parents; after a time they judge them;
rarely, if ever, do they forgive them.”
~ Oscar Wilde

 

 

(MYA is having dinner with her parents DANA and JAY at their home. They’re halfway through the evening and everyone is in good spirits.)

DANA
And you’re sure you won’t be home for Thanksgiving?

MYA
No, I’ll have to be in Lugavaria then. That’s when they think the coup is going to happen.

JAY
I don’t like you going into all these warzones, Mya.

DANA
Jay, we talked about this.

MYA
It’s my job, Dad.

JAY
Doesn’t mean I have to like it.

MYA
I’ll have my crew with me. We get pulled out if anything gets too hot. Plus, it’s not a warzone yet. They’re just thinking it might turn into one if the election doesn’t go the way the autocrat wants it to.

DANA
Which autocrat is this again?

MYA
Shuva Perdaval.

(A beat. DANA and JAY share a look.)

What?

DANA
Um. I’ve never seen this Shuva–

(JAY clears his throat.)

JAY
Sorry, uh, would anyone like dessert? I made a torte.

DANA
Do you have a photo of him, Mya?

JAY
Dana.

MYA
Uh. I don’t, but he’s–I mean, you can Google him, I’m sure.

(DANA already has her phone out. She finds a photo.)

JAY
Dana, I don’t think we need to–

 

… [Click here to purchase a copy of the magazine]

Characters:

MAE: The mother of teenagers, late 30s to 40s. Often serious, but witty. Not rich, but gets by. A devoted parent who has had a rough few years.

LLOYD: A middle-aged dad of two teen girls. Probably blue collar. Gregarious, a man’s man. He probably laughs at jokes he knows he shouldn’t and thinks feeling guilty about it later makes it okay.

Setting:

Faculty lounge of your local high school.

Est. run time: 12-15 mins.

Note: A / indicates overlapping of dialogue.

These roles are not specific to any ethnicity, but diversity in casting is encouraged.

 

 

 

 

(Lights up on a faculty break room.)

(MAE enters, carrying a storage tote. She surveys the room then sets the tote on a table and goes back to get a second.)

(Mae smells something and goes to open a window. She removes items from the box, plates of cookies, some coffee mugs, t-shirts..)

(LLOYD enters, carrying some Walmart bags.)

 

LLOYD

(Jovially) Hi there. School board raffle?

MAE

Guilty.

LLOYD

Yeah, me too. I got some poster board and markers from Walmart. That’s what Jane said/

MAE

/Jane said someone else was getting that stuff. Great. I have the prizes.

LLOYD

Awesome. Brr. It’s cold in here. Can’t we just get it all set up in the hallway?

MAE

No, the hall walkers are here till 8 o’clock.

LLOYD

Hall walkers?

MAE

Folks who walk laps around the school.

LLOYD

What? That’s a thing?

MAE

It is. Especially when it gets cold. No one wants to walk outside, so …

LLOYD

I’ll keep an eye out. Don’t want to get slowly trampled to death.

MAE

Funny. Okay, let’s get these tables set up first. I have the tablecloths in here.

(They move and set up two folding tables through the following.)

LLOYD

I’m Lloyd, by the way.

MAE

Mae.

LLOYD

You school board?

MAE

Nah. I got an athlete. I get guilted into helping out a couple times a year.

LLOYD

Guilted?

MAE

I’m … happy to. It’s just … I volunteered for crap all the time when my kids were younger but I wasn’t working then. I feel like I have more than put in my time, but when your kid is in sports, they kind of expect a little more.

LLOYD

Well, this oughta go fast.

MAE

Yeah.

LLOYD

My wife usually does this stuff, but she’s out of town. I had the day off so what the heck?

Man, it’s freezing in here.

MAE

Sorry, I opened the window. The smell in here …

LLOYD

Hard to miss that. We can invent digital money but we still manage to burn microwave popcorn.

MAE

Heh. Unmistakable, isn’t it? I’ll close the window.

(She does.)

(They prepare the tables for a raffle sale through following.) 

LLOYD

So you got an athlete too, huh? What year?

MAE

Junior. Golf and basketball. Yours?

LLOYD

Well, I got a senior who plays basketball and volleyball.

MAE

Volleyball. So you have a daughter.

LLOYD

Yeah. Two actually. My youngest isn’t really into sports. She was kinda getting into golf for a while, but y’know … teenagers go through phases.

MAE

Boy howdy. God. You think the newborn stage is the hardest/

LLOYD

/Or three. I don’t know how we survived three. People talk about the terrible twos. Bullshit. A three year old will wear themselves out crying because their toast is too scratchy.

MAE

Mine once screamed the whole 30 miles home from T-ville because I didn’t let him have a THIRD time on the stupid mechanical Pikachu thing at the mall.

LLOYD

Before I had kids, I’d see parents yelling at their kids in the store or something and I’d be

(cont’d) like, “Jesus Christ, give the little dude a break.” I’d think, man I’ll never yell at my kids in public like that.

(Mae laughs knowingly.) 

Yeah. Now when I see those parents, I’m like, “That poor son of a bitch … or that poor lady.” Been there.”

MAE

Been there is right. Oh, man. I do not miss tantrums.

LLOYD

I did not miss the tantrums.

MAE

Oh, god. You have two teenage girls/

LLOYD

/Two. Teenage. Girls. Your trip home from T-ville? Every. Other. Day.

MAE

I just have moodiness. He’ll barely speak for days. He’s embarrassed to be seen with me. I’m like … I walked with you through that weird-ass phase when you were obsessed with pine cones.

You heard me right. He’d ask random strangers how many pine cones they had in their yard, or what kind of crafts did they think you could make out of pine cones.

LLOYD

Our youngest wouldn’t go on a regular toilet until she was almost five. We used to have to carry around a potty chair in the car, bring it in with us to the gas station if we stopped. This one time we were … (He stops. The memory is funny.)

(Mae laughs with him.) 

We were on a road trip, going up north, and … Bree, she had to go, like right now! So we had to pull over on this dirt road. And there she is doing a number two on her Elmo potty in a ditch.

(They laugh. Mae’s laugh fades as she realizes something.)

MAE

Your daughter’s name is Bree?

LLOYD

Yeah. That’s my sophomore.

MAE

Bree Allen?

LLOYD

Yeah! You know her?

MAE

I’m Steven’s mom.

(A moment.)

LLOYD

Ah.

(It is tense.)

How’s um, Steven doing?

MAE

He’s doing.

LLOYD

Young love, huh? Bree was pretty heartbroke.

MAE

I’m sure she was.

(Mae takes over the job of getting the raffle tables ready.) 

LLOYD

I mean. I don’t know what happened between ‘em. Steven seems like a nice enough kid.

MAE

He is. Nice enough.

LLOYD

I mean, Bree had been all moody for a few days and … then at dinner her sister asked about

(cont’d) homecoming and Steven and she started crying. Said he, what’s the word, ghosted her.

MAE

Ghosted her?

LLOYD

Yeah, I didn’t know either. It’s when someone just drops out. They just stop all contact.

MAE

M-hm.

LLOYD

He unfriended her, stopped calling her, saw her in the hall one day and walked the other way. She doesn’t know what she did.

MAE

Nothing.

LLOYD

What? I mean, she doesn’t seem to know either. I mean, boys … hey, I was one, but … it seemed like he really liked her …

MAE

He did. He … does.

LLOYD

So then, why …? Bree’s still moping around/

MAE

/It’s you.

LLOYD

What?

MAE

It’s you. You scared him.

LLOYD

What? I always shook his hand when he came to pick her up.

MAE

Yes.

LLOYD

We’d joke around/

MAE

/Joke around.

LLOYD

/Yeah. Nothing out of line, or anything/

MAE

/Nothing out of line? You threatened to shoot him!

LLOYD

What? No, oh … (Lloyd laughs) I guess, yeah. I told him, ‘bring my daughter home by 11 or you’ll meet my hunting rifle right up close/

MAE

/meet my hunting rifle right up close.

LLOYD

Yeah! See? I was just goofing around. I mean … sure, as a dad with a daughter, I always mean it a little, but I knew Steven was a good kid.

MAE

You said it every time. The last time he came by, you were cleaning it in the garage and you did this.

(Mae does the I’m-watching-you move.)

LLOYD

(Laughing) Come on. I was obviously kidding! That can’t be why he/

MAE

/Yes, it can! How would you like it if Bree came to pick up Steven and I said, “Honey, you keep your hands off my boy or I’ll shoot you in the face”?

LLOYD

Now, whoa there! I did not say anything like that/

MAE

Whoa there? You might as well have! You scared him! He’s not some character in a dumbass country music song. “I’ll just be here cleaning this gun.” He doesn’t know!

LLOYD

What?

MAE

Steven is … he’s on the spectrum. You know what I mean by the spectrum?

LLOYD

Like what, he’s autistic or something?

MAE

Yes. You’d never know it. Unless you’re me, or you’re very close to him. He isn’t always sure when someone is joking. Like, if they seem serious, he can’t always tell. It’s … hard sometimes. It’s the one area socially, where … it’s hard.

LLOYD

Shit. I’m sorry.

MAE

When he actually saw you with the gun /

LLOYD

/He freaked out. He … yeah. He took it to heart, I guess.

MAE

Yeah.

LLOYD

You know …

MAE

What do I know?

LLOYD

I feel like an asshole.

MAE

… Good.

LLOYD

I mean, I didn’t know. Hell, my high school girlfriend’s dad used to show off his switchblade every time/

MAE

/Why the hell is that funny in the first place? Especially today! I mean, do you watch the news?

LLOYD

Well, yeah, but I’m not one of those nuts who’s gonna go on a rampage or something.

MAE

But how would he know that? Hell, how would anyone know that? I mean, you can’t know anymore.

LLOYD

It scared him that bad? He told you?

MAE

Yes! He may be moody and embarrassed that I exist, but … he tells me things. He said the first time he thought maybe it was a joke, I mean, we’ve talked about this, we’ve worked on … social cues and … when he saw the gun, he couldn’t get it out of his head.

LLOYD

He told you all this.

MAE

Yeah.

LLOYD

So then … I mean, didn’t you figure I was joking? You been around, right?

MAE

Again. Have you seen the news lately? Sure, you were probably joking. You were probably okay.

(cont’d) But you also definitely have a gun that you at least implied you were ready to use on my son. I’ll take a broken hearted kid over …

What would you do? If you were me?

(Lloyd sits there.) 

(Mae puts a finishing touch on one of the tables.)

I think we’re done.

LLOYD

Mae.

MAE

Yes?

LLOYD

I’m truly sorry. I … it’s just a dumb guy thing. Dads protect their daughters. Hell, my oldest could protect me. She’s a really badass athlete. I’m just a fair shot deer hunter who thought he was being funny.

But it wasn’t funny to Steven and I apologize.

MAE

… Thank you.

LLOYD

Think I could talk to Steven? Would he be okay with that? Would you?

(Mae thinks.)

MAE

If it gets him to stop blasting Sam Smith songs on repeat, I’m willing to try. I will need to talk to him first.

LLOYD

It’s like Billie Eilish lives in my house.

MAE

Lloyd. Don’t you ever, even jokingly, threaten my son again.

LLOYD

Understood.

MAE

And God help you if you ever flaunt your goddamn guns around him.

LLOYD

I never flaunted …

(Mae shoots him look that says, “are you really?”)

MAE

Go ahead and test me.

(Lloyd looks at her, gets it, nods.)

I think we’re done here.

LLOYD

Okay. Do we leave the prizes in here?

MAE

Hell yes. We don’t want anyone walking off with them.

LLOYD

Right, right.

MAE

You mind helping me haul some of this leftover stuff to my car?

LLOYD

I guess. Of course!

MAE

(Mock tough guy) Don’t make me pull my switchblade, man.

LLOYD

(Picking up a box) Hey, now don’t be that guy.

MAE

I won’t. There’s enough of that guy in the world.

(They exit.)

(Lights out.)

 

FADE IN:

INT. APARTMENT – DAY

A young woman who has already lived a difficult life, PHOEBE sits on one of two stools at the lounging counter separating her small galley kitchen from the main room of the apartment. There is a plastic cup in front of her along with a fifth of vodka. The counter is cluttered with spice jars, olive oil bottles, dirty dishes, an open box of children’s cereal, mac-n-cheese boxes, children’s toys, and other kitchen odds and ends. The stove has pots on it. The sink is full of dishes. To the side, a small buffet holds the type of ceramics that children make as gifts, along with various bottles of liquor and shot glasses. A string of white Christmas lights hangs along the walls.

The door of the apartment is plain. The security chain is unlatched. Someone knocks. PHOEBE goes to the door and peers through the peephole.

PHOEBE
Who is it?

VI (O.S.)
Me.

PHOEBE sets the security chain then opens the door.

VI leans against the opposite wall so that he is facing PHOEBE as she looks through the partially opened door. VI exudes violence without any explicit threat. He leans in towards the door. One of his hands is on the wall next to the door and another hand is on the door. Only half his face is visible. A small mirror on the wall next to the door shows only half of PHOEBE’s face.

PHOEBE
Why you here?

VI
Early release.

 

… [Click here to purchase a copy of the magazine]

A Ten-Minute Comedy

Characters
Nic, Any Age or Gender
Olive, 40’s – 70’s, Female

Setting: The Audience, Right Before the Curtain Goes Up

 

“I pray you.”

~ William Shakespeare

 

(A theater. NIC is seated in the audience. OLIVE approaches NIC.
OLIVE seems hesitant. She looks around, and then –cautiously– sits
next to NIC. NIC notices her. They smile at her. OLIVE smiles back, but
it’s a weary smile. NIC goes back to looking at their program. A moment
passes. OLIVE can’t take it anymore.)

OLIVE
Is this part of the play?

(A beat. NIC turns to OLIVE.)

NIC
I’m sorry?

OLIVE
This. Is this part of the play?

(A moment.)

NIC
I don’t…understand the question?

OLIVE
Oh. Sorry. I get so nervous these days.

NIC
Nervous about what?

OLIVE
Well, theater is so different now. You go to see a play and they want you to walk through a maze or watch somebody make risotto, and then you have to eat the risotto, and it’s not seasoned properly. It used to be, you would walk in, take your seat, watch a play, and go home. Now, they want you to be afraid all the time.

NIC
Oh, you mean like immersive theater?

OLIVE
No, I’m talking about when the theater is all around you.

NIC
That’s–Right.

OLIVE
I like to ask ahead of time so I know what I’m getting myself into, but I forgot to call the box office, so now I’m nervous.

NIC
This isn’t immersive. It’s just a touring production of The Tempest.

OLIVE
Do you think they’ll come into the audience?

NIC
Uh. I’m not sure.

OLIVE
One time they came into the audience. They grabbed the woman next to me. Brought her up onstage. Never brought her back down.

NIC
She was probably a plant.

OLIVE
No, she was human. She had a bracelet on.

NIC
I mean, she was probably a part of the show.

OLIVE
She was when they brought her up onstage. They made her put on a clown nose and do jumping jacks. I would have died. Can you imagine? Jumping jacks? In front of other people? I’d sooner make love to my husband in front of his golfing buddies. Do you have any idea what I look like jumping up and down? I’ll spare you the image.

(A beat.)

NIC
That sounds–Yeah.

OLIVE
So I hope this is just a nice show without any of that nonsense.

NIC
I think it will be. These people are British. They never do anything fun.

OLIVE
British Shakespeare. God, I hope I can understand it.

NIC
You’ll be fine.

OLIVE
I wonder why they didn’t do the American version.

NIC
Well, it’s–a mystery, I guess.

OLIVE
My cousin John was in a Shakespeare play once. The one about the witch? The witches?

NIC
Oh, you mean–

OLIVE
Hamlet.

NIC
There aren’t any witches in Hamlet.

OLIVE
No, the mother was a witch.

NIC
Are you speaking figuratively or–?

OLIVE
No, she had on a long, black dress.

(A beat.)

That means she’s a witch.

NIC
Well, that’s–open to interpretation, I guess.

OLIVE
My cousin played the guy in the hole.

NIC
You mean the Gravedigger?

OLIVE
Yes.

NIC
Gotcha.

OLIVE
They couldn’t afford a real hole, because it was a small theater, so they painted a hole on the back wall and he stood in front of it.

NIC
Very creative.

OLIVE
Amazing how these people’s minds work. I never think of things like that.

NIC
Well, how often do you need to communicate to someone that you’re in a hole?

OLIVE
I’m never in a hole. I don’t like being underground.

NIC
Understandable.

OLIVE
I had a bad experience with a submarine once.

NIC
That sounds–Okay.

OLIVE
I’m Olive.

NIC
Nic.

OLIVE
You always come to the theater alone?

NIC
I prefer it, actually.

OLIVE
Why is that?

NIC
Because then you don’t have to talk to anybody.

(OLIVE laughs.)

OLIVE
You’re absolutely right. That’s why I don’t bring my husband.

NIC
How long have you been married?

OLIVE
Too long.

NIC
Well.

(A beat.)

OLIVE
You’re sure this isn’t part of the play?

NIC
I’m sure.

OLIVE
Because if you’re an actor, you’re very good.

NIC
I’m not an actor.

OLIVE
I respect what actors do. The arts are important.

NIC
Yes, they are, but–

OLIVE
You know what I bought my daughter in third grade? A ukulele.

(A beat.)

It’s good for kids.

NIC
Ukuleles?

OLIVE
Music.

NIC
Well. Yes.

OLIVE
She had no talent for it. Poor thing. She tried though.

NIC
That’s what’s important.

OLIVE
Is there music in this?

NIC
The play?

OLIVE
Yeah.

NIC
There probably will be. It’s Shakespeare, so–

OLIVE
They’re always putting music in plays where there isn’t supposed to be music. I don’t mind musicals, but if I’m seeing a play, I’m seeing a play. If I want to see a musical, I’ll see a musical. Most of these plays are long enough without anything extra.

NIC
That’s–Yeah.

(A beat.)

OLIVE
Listen, if you’re in the play–

NIC
Olive.

OLIVE
–I don’t mind, but just please don’t bring me up onstage. My eye shadow is a mess today. I’ll be mortified.

NIC
I’m not in the play.

OLIVE
But it’s fine if you are. I know if you are, you can’t say you are. It’s like the FBI, right? You have to keep it a secret.

NIC
I’m not in the play.

OLIVE
I’m very good at keeping secrets. My sister has been sleeping around on my brother-in-law for years, and I’ve never told a soul.

NIC
Good for you.

OLIVE
So if you’re in the play–

NIC
I’m not the play.

OLIVE
I’m just saying, if you are, it’ll be between you and me.

NIC
I–Thank you. I appreciate that.

(A beat. BOTH look at their programs.)

OLIVE
I just don’t know how you learn all those lines.

NIC
I don’t have any lines.

OLIVE
So it’s not a speaking part?

NIC
No, I–

OLIVE
I’m sure you were very good at the audition, and they just had a lot of people to choose from.

NIC
I never auditioned.

OLIVE
Sleeping with the director, huh? Just like my sister.

NIC
I’m not an actor.

OLIVE
You’re right. I’m sorry. A thespian.

NIC
I promise you, Olive, I am not in the play.

OLIVE
But if you were in the play, that’s exactly what you would say.

NIC
At this point, I think I would just confess. You’ve a very good interrogator.

OLIVE
It’s from all those years I spent in the BBC.

NIC
You mean MI6?

OLIVE
Who told you about M16?

NIC
You don’t even have a British accent.

OLIVE
I don’t believe in accents.

NIC
That’s–fine.

OLIVE
You know who uses accents?

NIC/OLIVE
Your sister? / My sister.

OLIVE
She talks like a Southern debutante. The woman’s never been below the Mason Dixon line. A total phony.

NIC
Maybe she’s been an actress this whole time?

(A moment.)

OLIVE
You know what? I never thought of that.

NIC
I was just–

OLIVE
That would make sense. These plays they do now? They go on and on. I wouldn’t be surprised if my whole life was a play.

NIC
Like The Truman Show?

OLIVE
Or Kennedy. Or Roosevelt. I wouldn’t say it’s just like Truman.

NIC
You–

OLIVE
But politics is theater, yes, that’s very astute of you to say.

NIC
We should probably focus on the show.

OLIVE
It hasn’t started yet.

NIC
No, but–

OLIVE
Or has it started? Is that what you’re trying to communicate to me?

NIC
No, I’m really just trying to, uh, end the conversation.

OLIVE
Trying to get in the right headspace before you do one of your little monologues, huh?

NIC
Sure, if that’s what you want to–Sure.

OLIVE
I get the same way right before I do yoga.

NIC
Great. So you understand?

OLIVE
I understand completely.

(The LIGHTS start to dim.)

I hope it’s not too long. Do you know how long it is?

NIC
I don’t.

OLIVE
Does it say in the program?

NIC
No, it–

OLIVE
I think the runtime is right under–

(OLIVE stands up.)

My name!

NIC
What–is happening?

OLIVE
(With a British accent.)
You have entered the world of the play, dear audience member!

NIC
Oh god, no.

OLIVE
Please–

NIC
No.

OLIVE
If you would–

NIC
No, no, no.

OLIVE
Join me onstage!

(SOUND OF AUDIENCE APPLAUSE.)

NIC
I should have gone to the movies.

 

End of Play

DRAMATIS PERSONAE, one performer in a dual role

PRINCIPAL _____ – an elementary school principal, where _____ is the name of the performer, e.g. PRINCIPAL SALMONS

MARINE LE PEN MIZELLE – 10 year old girl

(A stage, as in an elementary school auditorium, with a microphone on a stand or podium. PRINCIPAL _____ enters.)

PRINCIPAL _____

Welcome, parents, students, and shareholders. My name’s ______ (full name of performer). I’m called Principal _____ here at the Ronald Dion DeSantis Memorial Charter School of Liberty and Cryptocurrency.

Thank you for being here tonight for DeSantis Memorial’s 3rd annual Essay Contest Classic. I’d also like to thank our education partners, Sears CryptoBuck & Co., “investing IRL since 1892 and AFRL since 2023”, Publix-AlphaSense, “putting AI back in agriculture”, and last but not least, Heritage NeuroSolutions, where “if you don’t like what you’re hearing here, forget we said anything”.

Folks, I tell you what, I’ve been in this job for only 5 months but I have never felt more blessed than I do at DeSantis Memorial. Every morning, I get to pull up the desk-cam master and see the smiling faces of our future. It’s a future identical to the present, because we’ve finally created the perfect society. As you all know, our school was named in honor of our late and dear President DeSantis, who inspired our guiding principle: faith-based free markets.

Through a combination of faith-based free markets and the determination to purge our culture of the spineless wokeism that ran wild through our nation a couple of decades ago, we have created a learning environment that puts our kids at the center of everything. DeSantis Memorial is the fiery crucible of the future leadership of our Divine Republic. And if you don’t already, I know that you’ll agree once you hear what these students have to say up here today.

(Looks down to read from a device in his hand)

Ok, so each student chose his or her own topic from a list of Board approved topics, and each student wrote his or her essay competitively without any assistance from parents or teachers.

(Looks back up at the audience)

So, if their essays are good or if they’re bad, well they can only blame themselves, because that’s how life works. Right?

(Looks back down to continue reading)

Our first reader tonight is rated 5-stars in the Koch Brothers Learner Productivity Index… That’s impressive! I didn’t know that until just now. Wow! And she’s trending toward the graduating class of 2048. Put your hands together, for Marine Mizelle.

(PRINCIPAL _____ walks off stage while clapping. Stops just off stage, still visible to the audience, and puts on a long-haired wig, then re-enters stage as MARINE LE PEN MIZELLE. Appears a little uncomfortable and begins to speak to the audience with unusual intonation, pronouncing “capitalism” with emphasis on “ism”, for example.)

MARINE LE PEN MIZELLE

Thaaanks, Principal _____. My name is Marine Le Pen Mizelle and I’m 10 years old. My essay is about capitalism and what it means to me.

(Looks down to read from a device in her hand)

What Capitalism Means To Me, by Marine Mizelle.

InfoWarTableBot says the definition of capitalism is as follows. Quote. Capitalism is the economic manifestation of liberty. To the extent that force is initiated in a social system, that system is then not capitalist to that extent, by definition. Such a black and white dichotomy is of no use to societal Lib-Dem parasites, who busy themselves redefining capitalism into a slur descriptive of any nominally organized scheme of thievery they do not control. End Quote.

(Sweeping a hand in gesture to the audience)

As you all know, most Lib-Dem parasites were enrolled in market-managed de-Nazification programs when the Special Police Operation Against Wokeist Traitors began in 2033. And, that the rest of the Lib-Dems were deported to the South China Seastead Penal Colony in cooperation with our ally, Kim Ju-ae and her United Korea. Even though there are no more Lib-Dems to spread lies,  I still think InfoWarTableBot’s definition of capitalism rings true. But capitalism also means something to me personally, as a free, productive person, too. It really means more than one thing to me as you will see in the rest of this essay, in which I talk about 4 things capitalism means to me. To conclude this introduction paragraph, my InfoWarTableBot is basically right, although there is more to it than what it said.

First of all, to me, capitalism means greater choice. People think it is really great that capitalism means more choices in things you can buy. Emitters are a good example. My dad thinks it’s just great that we have so many different kinds of emitters (he calls them light bulbs, because he’s old). One time I went with him to Home Depot to buy new emitters for our home lighting system. He spent a very long time looking at the boxes and handling them and reading the numbers and words like 60W Equivalent A19 and 750 lumens and non-dimmable daylight medium base LED. After about 10 minutes, my dad was so happy about all of the choices that he said “well, this is just fuggin great”. On the car ride home he explained that ‘fuggin’ – spelled with two Gs – is a synonym for ‘very’ that adults use when they’re very happy. In summary, more options to choose from mean happier, freedom-loving patriots circulating Stablecoin, like Hayekoin, through the economy.

The second thing that capitalism means to me, is freedom. Some people say that freedom is the greatest gift of America to the world. But not everyone in the world likes it. Before my grandpa Gary died in a botched upload, he talked about how the Commies of old Russia were vanquished when we invited a man named Boris Yeltsin to Randall’s grocery store in Texas and showed him a refrigerated display case of Jell O (said as two words) Pudding Pops. Grandpa Gary said Yeltsin was a Lib-Dem Commie but that he was so amazed by the Jell O that he commanded Russia to stop being Lib-Dems and to embrace freedom. I don’t really know who Yeltsin was, or what pudding pops were, or what a grocery store was, but I think what my grandpa Gary was trying to say is that freedom means buying anything you want, even if you don’t exactly know what it is or what it does or don’t really want it. And also, everyone loves freedom, except for Lib-Dems. Lib-Dems love taking freedom away, and they are the death of success, and I’m high-key happy I don’t know any. To summarize, freedom means buying the exact thing you want, whenever you want. And this happens with capitalism.

A third thing that capitalism means to me is that anybody can have any job they want if someone is willing to pay them to do it and they work hard for it. For example, you can be a clown. When I was 8, my dad got a Tasker as a clown for my birthday party. Clown Man arrived on time even though he told my dad that his wife was pregnant, (pausing, then as if explanation is needed) with a baby. And while Clown Man was making these fuggin cute 3D printed butterflies at my party (looking up from device to address audience, excitedly) the kind that light up, flutter around, and sing like real butterflies… (pausing, then looking back down to device) Anyway, while he was printing those, Mrs. Clown txted him that she was at the ER in labor with the clown baby, but Clown Man wouldn’t leave my party because he wanted to work hard and earn the right to live free with his Mrs. Clown and clown baby. The lesson I learned that day is that if you work hard like Mr. Clown, one day you won’t have to do work at a birthday party while your wife is experiencing a major medical event, and then you can TaskRabbit someone else to be the clown at your kid’s birthday party. In short, as long as someone loses, everyone wins.

Fourthly, capitalism means that you can make the fullest valuation of your worth as a person. Like the Florida State motto says, “Know your worth and then add tax. Because when you know your worth, you’ll stop giving people discounts.” Without capitalism, it is impossible to calculate human capital, or to leverage it with other forms of capital, like financial, social, moral, and legal capital. And without these other forms of capital, human capital is wasted on activities and interests that don’t generate intergenerational wealth, like social emotional learning, formalist art, critical race theory, and small university literary magazines*. Lib-Dems love these things and every night I thank God in Heaven that the Lib-Dems lost the Culture War, (with fear) I muh…I mean Special Military Operation, in 2035.

In summation, as you can clearly see, capitalism means many things to me. It means choice, freedom, jobs, and self-worth. These are just four things that capitalism means for me. Other things that I didn’t think about until later include being able to purchase pure water and air, having holidays for everything like Florida NFT Day and Florida Crayola Day and Free Market Values Week, and also extracting resources from the ground, like trees and clean-coal that otherwise would just be wasted.

(Emphasizing “I” and “you” while gesturing to oneself or the audience, respectively) Now, I ask you to think about what capitalism means to you. You might be surprised, but I know you’ll be free, and fuggin’ happy.

(Looking up to address the audience)

Thaaanks!

(Curtsies, then walks off stage. Removes wig and reenters the stage, clapping, as PRINCIPAL _____.)

PRINCIPAL _____

Thank you, Marine. That was a wonderful essay, and on such an important topic. I don’t know about 5 stars though. Maybe 3 and a half. But what a promising student she is. Don’t you agree? Wonderful.

(Clearing throat)

However, I am obliged to read this txt I received a moment ago.

(Looking down to read from device)

“The School Board of Shareholders gives notice that Marine Le Pen Mizelle is in violation of section 4.2 of the Saving our Children from Indecent Speech Act of 2029 on 4 counts. The Shareholders hereby formally condemn said violations… (scrolling on device) yada yada yada  … accordingly the Board shares owned by Marine’s parents, Chet Mizelle and Kassidy Wimble Mizelle, will be purchased back from them at a patriotically-adjusted market price, and Marine and her three brothers, Ronald Reagan Mizelle, Victor Orban Mizelle, and – (said under breath) wow –  Voldemort Putin Mizelle, also known as Wally Mizelle, will be required to attend the Magic Kingdom de-Nazification Charter Camp for the balance of the school year.“

(Looking up at audience, wagging finger with mock seriousness)

So, let that be a lesson to you kids. Behave or it’s off to Disney!

(Laughing nervously)

Ok, well, joking aside, on a different note, I’ve since learned that only one student entered the Essay Contest Classic this year. I guess I’m pleased to announce the winner by default of the Ronald Dion DeSantis Memorial Charter School of Liberty and Cryptocurrency 3rd Annual Essay Contest Classic. Give it up, once more, for Marine Mizelle!

(Clapping)

Congratulations, Marine!

(Inquiringly looking off stage)

Come on out.

(Addressing someone off stage)

Where is she? Is she…  Oh. The TeslaRail station?

(Addressing audience)

OK, well, it seems that Miss Mizelle has already caught the train to Disney. So.

(Searching for something to say)

Um, you know, it was our late, great leader President DeSantis himself who once said that if there’s a chance someone is an enemy, it’s best to err on the side of caution. Those were wise words. Well. I think that concludes tonight’s contest. I hope you found it productive and worth your time, despite what just happened.

(Searchingly looking at the audience)

Perhaps… perhaps we can all take comfort in Marine’s own words. You’ll recall that she just said “as long as someone loses, we all win”. Well said, Marine.  Well said.

(Pause. Then snapping out of it)

OK! Before we wrap up here I just want to remind everyone that if you have a fifth grader who signed up for safety patrol next year, we need to have their KidCarry permit on file in the office before the first day of class, and they need to bring their own sidearm in good working order. If (looking incredulous), for some reason, your child doesn’t have a sidearm, they can always check one out in the media center on the first day of class. There is a deposit. One hundred and thirty Hayekoin, which you’ll get back at the end of the year if you return the piece in good working order. Ok? Ok, thank you again for coming. Be safe.

 

CHARACTERS
Arthur…………………………..man, any age, any ethnicity
Felicity…………………………woman, any age, any ethnicity
Announcement

SETTING
A train stop platform with tracks below

TIME
Present

PRODUCTION NOTES
The Announcement’s italicized dialogue represents robotic word/number inserts: ex. “The train is 1 minute late.” The announcement can be pre-recorded, or played by an actor on a mic offstage.

The set doesn’t need to be complex: only a distinction between above and below is necessary.

PUNCTUATION
— denotes an interruption, either by another character or by a character interrupting themselves

… denotes a trailing off of thought

 

At rise: A train stop platform. There are yellow safety markings near the edge of the tracks, which are below. ARTHUR, the only person waiting, stands on the platform, looking down. He is wearing a sticker that says “VISITOR.”

ANNOUNCEMENT
The 3:35 AM train will arrive in 1 minute.

ARTHUR takes a deep breath.

ANNOUNCEMENT (cont’d)
Repeat, the 3:35 AM train will arrive in 1 minute.

ARTHUR jumps onto the tracks.

ANNOUNCEMENT (cont’d)
For your safety, please stand clear of the yellow line.

ARTHUR faces the direction of the oncoming train. He closes his eyes. A long pause. A longer pause. ARTHUR looks around. He looks at his watch.

ANNOUNCEMENT (cont’d)
The 3:35 AM train has been delayed for 1 minute. We are sorry for the inconvenience.

ARTHUR looks at his watch. Looks at the tracks ahead of him.

ANNOUNCEMENT (cont’d)
The 3:35 AM train has been delayed for an additional 5 minutes. Total wait time is 6 minutes.

ARTHUR
Goddamnit!

ANNOUNCEMENT
We are sorry for the inconvenience.

ARTHUR paces. FELICITY silently enters and sits on the edge of the platform, on the yellow line. She carries a purse. ARTHUR continues to pace; suddenly he notices her and startles.

ARTHUR
Fuck! Where did you come from?

FELICITY
(gently)
That’s a dangerous place to stand. (she reaches out her hand to him) Want a hand up?

ARTHUR
I— Don’t talk to me.

 

… [Click here to purchase a copy of the magazine]

Setting:

A bar.

Present day. Late afternoon.

A high wire runs high in the air, from stage left to stage right.

 

Characters:

 

Rob                    m., any age, any race.

A man’s man; talks a big game. Slick.

 

Aldo                    m., any age, any race.

He appears to be just emerging from a slightly catatonic state,                                                                           like a man wrestling with the reverberations of a recent trauma.

Words don’t come easy.

 

Waiter                 m., formal to the point of absurdity, as if from a former era. Any

age.

 

Aerialist:           f., aerial dancer, expert at using either aerial-silks, rope, trapeze,                                                                       hoop, or some combination thereof.

 

Productions might deploy one lone aerialist, many aerialists (as in: a flock of aerialists), or no aerialists at all.

 

Note about choreography:

In the script, there are places where the aerialist is instructed to enter, exit, drift, float, twist, turn, stay in the shadows, occupy a prominent position center stage, and so on. But directors and choreographers should have complete license to reinvent their own manner and method of choreography, to interpret all and any stage directions loosely, however they wish, or even to disregard them altogether.

The physical movements of the aerialist might emphasize, offset, punctuate, obliterate, or render mysterious certain moments in the script. She may use silks or rope or hoop or trapeze or scaffolding or whatever aerial equipment she prefers.

There are no hard and fast rules when it comes to the choreography for and interpretation of the aerialist-as-theatrical-figure. She might seem an abstraction, a dream, a figment of the actors’ or the characters’ imagination(s), or an absurdity: in other words, as a literal woman suspended in the air in a bar.

Up to you.

*

 

Prologue:

In darkness, melancholy music plays, mysterious and full of longing. It might be a single flute, or a violin, or a cello.

The Aerialist appears, her long hair pinned up in a bun.

She dangles, mid-air, immune to the laws of gravity.

The light must hit her just so.

She aerial-dances, suspended high above the ground, as if casting a spell.

Then magically disappears.

Lights out.

 

Scene 1:

 

In darkness, sounds are heard: horns honk, subways screech, traffic, hollering, planes drone: the rumbling hustle-bustle of a city.

Lights up, revealing…

ROB and ALDO, dressed in business casual, seated at table in bar. Rob has a glass of whiskey; Aldo, an empty glass. An ashtray contains a few cigarette butts.

 

ROB

Well, that’s horrible.

ALDO

(shrugging it off)

It’s just sporadic.

ROB

You go blind and black out and wake up in a place you’ve never been before? How often does this happen?

ALDO

Once in a blue moon.

ROB

Did you fall off the wagon or what?

ALDO

Been sober almost a year to the day.

ROB

Maybe that’s the problem.

ALDO

Ha-ha.

ROB

Look, I’m not gonna bullshit you. Sounds like an odd form of narcolepsy.

Or a fabrication.

ALDO

It’s not a fabrication. Narcolepsy, maybe.

ROB

And this happens… how often?

ALDO

I told you. It’s intermittent.

ROB

But more than once or twice?

ALDO

Sure.

ROB

How many times exactly?

ALDO

I wasn’t counting, Rob.

Rob removes a business card from billfold, hands it to Aldo.

ROB

Listen, I got someone you should call. Kathy and I saw her when things got crazy on the home front. Helped a lot.

Aldo scans the card.

ALDO

Really, Rob? A psychiatrist?

ROB

Hey, beats blacking out in broad daylight.

(slugs back whiskey)

One more club soda before I hit the road? I’ll order their finest brand.

ALDO

I’m good. You?

ROB

Prob’ly shouldn’t, my friend. Cindy awaits.

ALDO

Cindy?

ROB

My latest “escapade.”

ALDO

I thought you swore off “escapades.”

ROB

Cindy’s not an escapade. She’s a serious hobby. Love to stay, but Cindy’s a stickler for punctuality. Plus, she charges by the hour.

(flags waiter)

The check, good sir!

Aldo reaches for his wallet; Rob holds up one hand.

ROB (CONT’D)

It’s on me.

ALDO

Big spender.

ROB

Not a chance! It’s on the company. I can expense it.

ALDO

Expense away.

ROB

Oh, c’mon, don’t look at me like that.

ALDO

Like what?

ROB

Like that. C’mon, we all need a little Cindy in our lives. No guessing games, no smoke and mirrors, no wild goose chases. No exorbitant mating rituals. No dinner, no dances, no flowers. No expensive jewelry. With Cindy, what you see is what you get.

(slaps cash on table)

That’s basic to a man.

Rob starts to get up, put on jacket. Overhead, in shadows, the Aerialist begins to descend. For now, she’s a silhouette.

ROB (CONT’D)

Anyway, I say give the good doc a shot. Whattaya got to lose?

Aerialist hovers, dips. She flickers, momentarily.

Pause.

Rob stares at Aldo, who seems to be concentrating hard on a point somewhere deep within himself. Aldo struggles to speak.

ALDO

Actually? A lot.

Aerialist belays a little closer, turns herself inside out.

ROB

(studying Aldo, skeptical)

I don’t get it.

ALDO

No. You wouldn’t.

Aerialist spirals, as if in free fall, then collects herself.

Aldo might stare at Aerialist. He might stare off into the distance. He might close his eyes. Whatever he does, it’s in response, on some level, to the movements of the Aerialist.

Rob watches Aldo, perplexed. WAITER approaches with check. He’s strangely formal, old-world.

ROB

Little change of plan here, chief. One more club soda for my friend, and another CC on the rocks for yours truly. Thanks, mon ami.

Waiter nods stiffly, exits.

Overhead, the Aerialist extends an arm as if casting a spell, ascending higher. She holds as much focus as the men beneath her, if not more. Her every movement should constitute a kind of response to the conversation below.

ALDO

And what of the punctual Cindy?

ROB

A few minutes I can spare. Help me understand something, Aldo, lowly worm that I am: when you “wake up” in these heretofore unknown places, how do you manage to find your way home?

Aerialist gestures, unravelling: a smooth, fluid movement.

ALDO

It always seems to work out.

ROB

So you’re not waking up in Timbuktu or Madagascar? These strange, unforeseen places you land just happen to be conveniently located right here in town?

ALDO

Actually, the last time it happened? I was in Eastern Europe somewhere.

Aerialist executes a contortion, as if bending her soul.

ROB

What, like Slovenia?

ALDO

Maybe Croatia.

Aerialist turns and turns, mid-air, as if finding her way in the dark. She reaches out one toe, locating the high wire. Supporting herself with silks (or ropes or scaffolding or hoop) she steps onto the wire, checking her balance.

ROB

So you’re dreaming. Hallucinating. Tripping the light fantastic, to put it mildly.

ALDO

I don’t think so, no.

Aerialist places other foot on high wire. Wobbles, catches herself, pirouettes in other direction.

ROB

‘s gotta be night terrors then? Sleepwalking? Borderline psychosis? Okay, okay, when was the most recent episode?

ALDO

Recent enough.

ROB

Can you be a little less vague?

ALDO

You hunger for specifics.

ROB

Hey. I’m nosy that way.

Rob pilfers a cigarette from Aldo. Aldo lights it for him.

ALDO

Last night. Happy now?

The aerialist executes a breath-taking move, perhaps a teardrop or a split upside-down. Perhaps a figurehead. It should have some grand sweep to it, the illusion of risk.

ROB

(taking a drag)

Sleepwalking, definintely sleepwalking. Some dissociative, dream-limbo state. Land of repressed memories. Amnesia’s linked to trauma, you know. There are studies about that.

ALDO

If you say so, chief.

ROB

So, yesterday, when you found yourself in some… Croatian… wonder-scape… where exactly were you? On the banks of the Danube?

ALDO

The Danube doesn’t run through Croatia, Rob.

ROB

I never took geography. So shoot me.

The Aerialist and Aldo make a connection. It’s subtle.

ROB (CONT’D)

Fine. If not the Danube, where were you?

Slight pause, as the Aerialist ups the ante.

ALDO

On a high-wire. Of sorts.

ROB

Hey, I get it. These incidents would be precarious for anyone.

ALDO

No. I mean I was. Literally.

ROB

Literally what?

Cue: mysterious, melancholy melody from opening of play.

ALDO

On a tightrope wire, a hundred meters or so up in the air. No net.

Rob stares at Aldo. The Aerialist executes a gorgeous move, takes her time. The movement should have breadth and width, encompassing a wild, reckless kind of beauty.

ALDO (CONT’D)

It was some kind of… European circus. Not in a tent, just. Out in the open air. In some kind of… town square.

ROB

In Slovenia?

ALDO

Croatia, Rob.

The Aerialist speeds her movements, gathering momentum.

ROB

This is either neurological, or it’s a load of horse shit.

ALDO

Truth is stranger than fiction.

The Aerialist slows. Dangles in limbo. Perhaps she hides in the rafters. Perhaps she disappears.

ROB

Fiction, maybe. But science-fiction? That’s another story.

Waiter enters, with another round.

ALDO

To Cindy. May she be running late.

ROB

Goddammit, Aldo! You got me all turned around.

Rob starts to drink. Stops. Puts his glass down.

ROB (CONT’D)

Ya know, I miss when you used to drink. You weren’t so fucking weird then. I actually miss you, man.

ALDO

I have nothing to say in my own self-defense. It is what it is.

ROB

Sobriety?

ALDO

That, too.

ROB

Yeah, well, who needs booze when you’ve got other diversions to fall back on. High wire acts, hallucinations, tall-tales and all.

A swift, sharp move by the Aerialist, a touch of venom in it.

ALDO

You think I’m lying.

ROB

Lying? You? Nah, I’ll just take this whole circus thing as a metaphor. With your permission, of course.

Aerialist becomes agitated, unhappy, her movements insistent.

ALDO

But I don’t mean it metaphorically! I just. Mean it. Last night, when I came to, I found myself walking along a tight-rope wire towards a beautiful girl.

The Aerialist commands focus, both of Aldo and the audience.

ALDO (CONT’D)

There were stars in the sky. A full moon. And darkness all around.

Aerialist holds the moment, in extremis. Long pause.

ROB

Sure you don’t want my shrink’s number?

ALDO

What for? So she can cure me? I’d have to be crazy to let that happen.

Aerialist swings up and out of reach, as if being set free.

ROB

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute! You’re saying you actually like these episodes?

ALDO

I don’t like them. I love them. Live for them.

The Aerialist spins rapidly, with abandon. Exultant. Sublime.

ALDO (CONT’D)

I pray for them to happen! Pray for the lightning bolt to drop out of the sky and hit me every time! You see, there’s always this beautiful woman…

ROB

Don’t tell me. The high-wire lady?

The Aerialist slowly comes to a halt, floats in darkness.

ALDO

Sure, the high-wire lady. Of course the high-wire lady! Who else would I bump into on a tightrope, a hundred feet up in the air, with nothing but a filmy layer of sawdust between us and the ground?

Aerialist extends her whole being towards Aldo. Tears fall.

ROB

How d’you make it down alive? That’s my question.

Pause: Aldo wrestles with some persistent, ancient feeling.

ALDO

She helps me. Every time.

Pause. Rob takes in Aldo, mystified. Aerialist extends her arms.

ROB

Aldo? You in love?

ALDO

(considers)

Is that what you call this?

ROB

You got all the telltale signs.

ALDO

Huh.

ROB

Take my advice. Nip this thing in the bud. Pills, hypnotism. Acupuncture, the little needles in the spine. A phone sex session. Heck, I can give you Cindy’s number if you want.

ALDO

No. No Cindy.

ROB

Look, you’re on the jagged edge of some kinda crazy freefall here. Grab the wheel with both hands! Take the bull by the horns! Regain a modicum of control, for the love of god!

The Aerialist begins to drift. Further, then further still.

ALDO

(considers, then balks)

I can’t. Can’t give it up. Not yet.

ROB

Can’t give up what? Losing your mind? You could get hit by a truck, or walk off a cliff. Hell, you could fall right off the high-wire! It’s risky, if you ask me. Cut it out.

ALDO

If gaining control means losing her, then, no, I don’t want it.

The Aerialist swings like a pendulum, looking from Rob to Aldo and back to Rob, as if watching a game of ping-pong. She holds her breath in suspense. A bird in mid-flight.

ROB

Hey, hey, Aldo. Hey. Easy there. Look. I get it. Beautiful girl up on a high wire, who could resist?

Aerialist expands ever-outwards, arms and legs.

ROB (CONT’D)

Still, it’s a crap-shoot. Risky at best.

ALDO

I don’t know how long this will last…

ROB

In my experience, these things are fleeting. Easy come, easy go.

Aerialist turns upside down, head toward the earth.

ALDO

I just. Want to stay in the present. I don’t want to analyze it too much. She’s. How do I explain it? She’s. Teaching me things, Rob.

ROB

Things like what?

Aerialist, as if in a trance, reaches one cautious hand to her head, and removes one of many hairpins from her hair. She might slowly, purposefully, drop each hair pin, one by one, onto the floor near Rob and Aldo.

ALDO

How to keep my balance. How to not to look down. How to keep my eyes on the target. How not too dwell on how far I’ve come. Stuff like that.

Rob looks at Aldo, a little mystified. Aerialist continues removing hairpins, one by one.

ALDO (CONT’D)

She almost fell. Last night. From the high-wire. She was doing great, but then she– she lost her footing. A noise in the crowd snagged her focus. The dancing bear broke out of his cage and lunged for one of the clowns and… For an instant– for one terrible instant– her concentration wavered, and she lost her balance. For a split second, she faltered. Faltered hard. But you know what? I was there to catch her. Me, Rob.

ROB

Grabbed her by the tutu, did ya?

ALDO

No, Rob.

In one swift, certain movement, the Aerialist lets her hair come completely undone and fall to the ground. The hair is wildly, strangely, surrealistically long. The Aerialist might release a high-pitched, fantastic wailing sound, sound of a bird or animal, or a whispered cry, off-key.

ALDO (CONT’D)

By her hair! She has very long hair. Extremely long. Six or seven yards.

Aerialist rights herself and walks the wire, hair loose now. Aldo looks up at her, rapt.

ALDO (CONT’D)

Her hair goes past her feet, it drapes like a curtain all around her when she walks the wire. She’s never cut that hair. Not once in her whole life, I don’t think.

Aerialist continues to walk the wire. Rob looks up, notices Aerialist for the first time, does a double-take. Shakes it off, regains his bearings, focuses on Aldo.

ROB

She told you this?

ALDO

Her hair’s a big part of her act. She walks the high-wire with this long, luminous hair shining in the spotlight. Just her hair alone is a major draw. People come for miles to see that hair, pay big money to say they’ve seen that hair at least once in their lives.

Rob and Aldo gaze up at the Aerialist walking the wire.

ROB

(rapt, looking up)

You caught her by the hair.

The Aerialist freezes, mid-wire. She doesn’t move an inch.

ALDO

I almost lost her. But then, I didn’t.

ROB

Wow.

ALDO

It could have been very bad, Rob.

ROB

No doubt.

ALDO

I mean, very bad. The dancing bear had gotten loose, broken out of its chains. That beast eats small ponies for breakfast. One bite is all it takes, and poof! There goes happiness.

Slowly but surely, the Aerialist climbs out of sight, moving into the shadows. Perhaps she watches from afar. Perhaps she peeks out from behind the curtain. Perhaps she adjusts one of the stage lights, dimming it, adjusting the angle slightly.

ROB

(anxious)

But it didn’t?

ALDO

No, thank god. It didn’t go anywhere.

ROB

You pulled her back up onto the wire.

ALDO

It took some effort, but yeah, I did.

Rob’s cell phone dings! – incoming text message.

The Aerialist vanishes from sight.

Shift to more “realistic” lighting.

ALDO (CONT’D)

Lemme guess. Miss Punctuality herself?

ROB

I’m cancelling. I– I can’t stand it.

ALDO

Stand what?

ROB

Another “escapade.” I just– can’t.

Rob texts a reply, puts phone away. Pause. Both men are visibly changed: Rob, viscerally shaken; Aldo, at peace.

ROB (CONT’D)

(agitated, unnerved)

I’m gonna buy some flowers for Kathy. Take her out. Maybe I’ll take a long, hard look at– I don’t know. Her hair.

ALDO

Well, sure. Sure you are. How could you not?

(slides cash on table back to Rob)

That’s basic to a man.

Rob hesitates to take back his cash.

ALDO (CONT’D)

Take it. Go on. I got this round.

Aldo calmly reaches in his pocket, pulls out a money roll, doles out a few bills on the table. Gets up and exits the bar with purpose. Like a man who’s just undergone an exorcism.

The Aerialist might reappear, flickering, to watch Aldo go, then turn to lock eyes with Rob.

Upon locking eyes with the Aerialist, Rob freezes. Sits stock-still for a moment, mystified.

Rob starts to check cell phone, then stops. Puts cell phone down. He fidgets. He looks up. He looks around. Reaches for cell phone one more time, sets it down again. He puts his head in his hands. Stays there a while. Then stands, puts on coat.

As he puts on his jacket, he notices a long, winding crack in the floor. He stops and stares at it. Then he looks around. Seeing no one around, he reaches out one toe, places foot on top of the crack, as if walking on a tightrope. He places his other foot in front of the first, and stands there, arms akimbo, checking his balance. Painstakingly, he begins to walk the length of the crack as if walking a high-wire. He might hum a tune– perhaps the same melody from the play’s opening moments. He might make a low whispery sound, the same high-pitched sound, or the same fantastic animal sound the Aerialist made earlier.

Sometimes he falls off the crack. Sometimes he stays on. Either way, he concentrates very hard.

ROB

(raising his glass)

To love.

(reconsiders, re-phrases)

To losing control.

(thinks, re-phrases again)

To the whole damn circus!

Rob walks a few more paces along the crack. Finds his groove.

He might make an attempt to imitate one of the Aerialist’s moves. At first, he does so tentatively. Then with more commitment. Finally he puts his whole heart and soul into it.

Waiter appears with a tray, but stops short when he sees Rob.

Waiter glances upward, searching for something overhead.

He continues to scan the air.

Rob, oblivious to the waiter, continues to make his way precariously along the imaginary high-wire, sometimes coming close to falling, catching himself, then trying again.

Sensing someone, Rob looks up, sees waiter observing him.

Embarrassed, waiter quickly busies himself. Occasionally, though, he still glances upward.

Rob continues to steal glances at the waiter, occasionally catching the waiter looking up. When he does, the waiter tries to look even busier.

Rob takes in the moment. What is going on? He might laugh.

ROB (CONT’D)

You, too, huh?

The waiter says nothing. Stays busy, remains tight-lipped.

ROB (CONT’D)

Ah, buddy, no need to explain.

Embarrassed, the waiter shoots Rob a dirty look. Goes back to tidying up. Then exits, indignant– but not before casting one last anxious look up in the air, checking for the Aerialist.

ROB (CONT’D)

(to himself)

No need to explain at all…

Rob raises his glass.

ROB (CONT’D)

To life on the high-wire…

He nods, that feels right. He raises his glass in the direction of the waiter, then to the offstage Aldo, and finally to the invisible high-wire lady in the sky.

ROB (CONT’D)

May you always stay on it.

Rob starts to toss back the last of his drink, but stops himself.

ROB (CONT’D)

(calls)

Uh, waiter? Little change of heart. I’d like to get your finest brand of club soda, right here…

FADE TO BLACK.

END OF PLAY

 

CHARACTERS

CLOWN 1: FEMALE, ANY AGE.

CLOWN 2: MALE, ANY AGE.

DOUG, THE LIZARDMAN: EARLY 40S.

TIME: NOW

LOCATIONS: MULTIPLE

 

The curtains are down as lights come up. From behind them we                                                                    start hearing one side of a dialogue:

 

CLOWN 1

(offstage)

Well, where is he! Uh… No, I can’t, I cant! There’s a balance to these things, I can’t just do it alone. They’re gonna hate it, they’re gonna hate me! Listen, I just don’t know how to handle rejection… Ok! Fine, fine!

Clown1 comes through the curtains. She stares at the audience, opens a wide smile.

CLOWN 1

Hi. Hello. How we, uh, how we doing today friends? It’s so nice to have you here, I’m sorry if this isn’t like, great, I usually have a partner to open the show with and…

Doesn’t matter! Does noooot matter. I’ll just, uh, do you folks like juggling? I can totally, yeah… Would you like that?

She puts her head back inside the curtains.

…[Click here to purchase a copy of the magazine.]

Lights up:

One-Armed-Kenny sits in his window-less panel van, drumming the fingers of his one good hand on the steering wheel.

An unlit cigarette hangs from his lips.

Leonard approaches.

Kenny steps out of the panel van, the cigarette still hanging from his lips.

 

KENNY

You’d be Leonard?

LEONARD

Kenny?

KENNY

That’s right.

LEONARD

Sorry about the whole meeting in a public place thing, but I’ve been lied to and scammed on Craigslist so many times–

KENNY

Oh, this is no scam, Leonard.

LEONARD

So, you’re telling me you have indisputable evidence—‘cause

A thundering noise, sad and terrifying, erupts from the back of the panel van.

KENNY

Jehovah! Hush!

Kenny kicks the door of the panel van.

LEONARD

The God of the Old Testament is in your panel van?

KENNY

How’s that for indisputable?

LEONARD

Can I look?

KENNY

Well, historically, that hasn’t worked out so well, but–

Leonard looks.

LEONARD

Oh my God. He’s beautiful.

KENNY

Yeah, I found him in the Rainier Mountains just East of Spokane, Washington. I was walking around, smoking a doober, and there he was, humped over a log, taking the most impressive shit I have ever seen in my life, and I confess, Leonard, all I could see were the dollars signs, so, I shot him in the face with a tranq gun and hauled his ass home.

LeONARD

This van smells like raw meat.

KENNY

Yeah, well, it’s kind of like his kennel.

LEONARD

I’m sorry, did you say: kennel?

KENNY

Yeah, I mean, we got along great at first. We were always hanging out, drinking beer, and he’d do this thing where he’d fart, and after he farted, he’d waft it up so he could smell his own flavor, but after about a year things went bad. Fast.

LEONARD

What?

KENNY

See, I was always out partying and sleeping with a lot of strange women–prostitutes–and I think he got a little upset that we weren’t spending as much time together as we used to, so he started punching out the walls in my house, and then he set fire to my wife’s antique doll collection, but the final straw was when he broke into my gun safe and shot holes through my JBL surround sound. So, I put his ass in the van.

LEONARD

You taught God how to use a gun?

KENNY

Not that he needed one. But, yeah.

LEONARD

You’re a terrible person.

KENNY

Excuse me?

LEONARD

I said: you are a terrible person and you don’t deserve–

KENNY

Hey: the only difference between you and me, Leonard, is that I can actually admit to being greedy and an asshole, as while you on the other hand, all you wanna do is judge, but really–

LEONARD

All I want is to talk to him, to ask questions.

KENNY

Oh, you think I didn’t try that?

LEONARD

When? Between prostitutes?

KENNY

Hey: I asked him all sorts of shit, all right, mostly about why he saw fit to take my left arm from me in a freak jet-ski accident when I was seven years old, but he never answered, Leonard, and he never does, ’cause he hates questions, ‘cause–

LEONARD

Well, you know, maybe you’re just…not asking him right.

KENNY

Fine. You try it. Ask him a question and see what happens.

LEONARD

I will.

KENNY

Ask him something right now and see what happens. See if he doesn’t get pissed off and start breaking shit, see what he–

LEONARD

God–

KENNY

He prefers Jehovah, Leonard.

LEONARD

Jehovah, why, when I was twelve years old at the McLean Middle School Winter Wonderland Dance, did you see fit to let Ms. Bachman corner me in the boy’s room and proceed to–

Loud banging, accompanied by very, very angry and terrifying noises, erupts from the back of the panel van.

KENNY

What’d I tell you, what did I fucking tell you, he does not–

LEONARD

Yeah, well, once he gets to know me a little better–

KENNY

And for the record, I don’t see why you’re so upset about accidentally getting some when you were in middle school.

LEONARD

She was older than my grandmother.

KENNY

Well, Leonard, in my book, pussy is pussy–age, size, color–I mean as long as she consents–and it sounds like she did–

LEONARD

(taking out his wallet)

You know what? Here. Just take the money.

KENNY

Excuse me?

LEONARD

Take the money, I mean: that’s all you care about, right, you said so yourself, so just take the money and leave us alone.

Beat

KENNY

Well, you know what? Maybe I don’t feel like selling anymore.

LEONARD

No, we agreed on a fair price and you’re going to honor that.

KENNY

Hey: don’t you tell me what I will or will not–

LEONARD

Yeah, well, I’m telling you right now, you fucking redneck.

KENNY

Leonard, you ought not start shit with people you don’t know.

LEONARD

I will kick the shit out of you, you one-armed, piece of–

KENNY

Well, come on, Leonard, come on with it, give me what you got, ’cause I’ll knock your dick in the dirt, I’ll lay the ace of spades and the five of clubs on your ass and let’s see what–

Enya’s “Orinoco Flow” begins to play, slowly getting louder and louder and louder throughout the following lines.

LEONARD

Oh my God…

KENNY

Yeah, that’s not good.

LEONARD

It’s beautiful.

Leonard approaches the panel van.

KENNY

Leonard, all our differences and your insults aside, I would highly advise you to keep your distance, ’cause you don’t know him like I do and you have no idea what he is capable of, so–

Leonard opens door of the panel van.

LEONARD

I think he likes me.

KENNY

Leonard: he doesn’t like anyone.

Leonard gets in the panel van.

LEONARD

No, it’s like the music is his way of saying he understands me, and that he wants to talk to me, just me, and him, and–

KENNY

Leonard, I’m telling you, for your own safety: remain calm and very, very, slowly back yourself out of the van before–

LEONARD

Oh. My. God.

KENNY

Leonard–

Leonard is ripped over the back seat, thundering noises and screams, belonging to Leonard, ensue, subside.

Kenny gets back in the driver’s seat, lights a cigarette, turns off the radio, looks to the rearview mirror.

KENNY

I had that under control, just so you know.

Loud, thundering mocking noise.

KENNY

Yeah, I know, and, the Good Lord taketh away. Okay. Now, we gotta meet some dipshit named Stephen in the Baskin-Robbins parking lot in thirty minutes, and I’m all for doing your work, Lord, really, I am but I swear: if you play Enya one more time I will straight up drop your ass like a bad habit.

Lights down.

End of Play.

 

 

CHARACTERS

JULIAN, mid-twenties, male-identifying, Bryce’s live-in boyfriend
BRYCE, mid-twenties, female-identifying, Julian’s live-in girlfriend
NURSE, any age, ethnicity, or gender; working the late-shift

(Lights up. A hospital emergency room, in some city. A few seats, paired together. A small table with some magazines. It’s late, maybe midnight: We hear sounds of ambulances, doctors being paged, beeping monitors, maybe a baby crying. After a moment, JULIAN enters supporting BRYCE, who is limping on one foot. They are both in sweats.)

JULIAN

Okay, let’s get you over here-

BRYCE

I’m really fine, we don’t need to be here.

JULIAN

You can’t walk!

BRYCE

I don’t need you to hold me up, babe.

JULIAN (ushering her into a chair)

Bryce, you’re obviously hurt, just take a seat. I’ll check us in.

BRYCE

I’m here against my will.

JULIAN

Don’t say that, people are going to think I had something to do with it-

BRYCE (shouting, joking)

He hit me! Pushed me down the stairs!

JULIAN (shushing her)

Don’t joke about that!

BRYCE

Would you relax? We can go, seriously, I’m fine.

JULIAN

You slipped.

BRYCE

Jules, please, let’s just go.

JULIAN

Bryce. C’mon-

BRYCE

This is going to cost a fortune, I can just stay off it for awhile.

JULIAN

Tell you what: you take ten steps for me to that chair right there (he points) then we can go home. I’ll pay for the car myself.

BRYCE (excited)

A yellow cab?

JULIAN

Yes, fine, a yellow cab.

BRYCE

I love to watch TV while being driven somewhere by a stranger.

JULIAN

I know.

BRYCE

Ten steps?

JULIAN

Ten steps. And we’ll go.

BRYCE

Swear?

JULIAN

I swear.

(They shake hands. BRYCE hoists herself to her one foot, attempts to put pressure on the other one. She winces, almost falls back into the seat, but catches herself. JULIAN watches, amused. BRYCE smiles weakly back at him. She plants both her feet, barely putting weight on her bad ankle. She smiles back at JULIAN. Finally, she slides like an ice skater across the floor, barely touching the ground with her bad leg. She makes it to the seat, ten paces away. She turns, does a little hobbly-bow, and plants herself in the new seat.)

BRYCE

I hope the yellow cab is playing old Jimmy Fallon clips.

JULIAN

Okay, you win, come on back now.

BRYCE

That wasn’t part of the deal!

JULIAN

Let’s get you your cab, come on now!

BRYCE

Maybe you could carry me?

JULIAN

Maybe you could get an x-ray?

BRYCE

Fine, I’ll come back. Twenty steps just to prove you wrong.

(BRYCE hoists herself up again, starts to do the exact same move back to JULIAN. After a few steps, she stumbles, falls, catches herself on the table, knocking over the magazines.)

BRYCE

Okay, okay, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ouchhhhhhhh.

JULIAN

You good?

BRYCE (wincing in pain)

Okay, help me up.

JULIAN (helping her into the previous seat)

Still want that cab?

BRYCE

Fine. Go check me in.

JULIAN (looking offstage)

A nurse is coming.

(The NURSE enters, carrying a clip board. They approach the couple.)

NURSE

How we doing tonight?

JULIAN

We’re good. Well, actually no, she’s got a broken ankle, we think.

BRYCE

It’s not broken, just sprained-

JULIAN

She can hardly put weight on it.

BRYCE

I just did!

JULIAN

You fell.

NURSE

What happened?

JULIAN

She was getting a roll of paper towels down off of the top shelf  and the chair slipped out from under her.

NURSE (to BRYCE)

You landed on it?

BRYCE

I’m sorry?

NURSE

You landed on the ankle?

JULIAN

All her weight on it, yeah.

NURSE

Alright, well we’re gonna have to get you checked out. You two came in on a good night.

BRYCE

Yeah?

NURSE

Hardly anyone in tonight. One stabbing, that’s it.

JULIAN

Oh, my…

NURSE (starting to fill out the forms with the info provided so far)

He’ll live. His wife’s going to jail, though.

BRYCE

A guy’s wife stabbed him?

NURSE

Missed his heart by (gesturing a tiny amount) this much.

JULIAN

Wow.

NURSE

Oh, shoot. I probably shouldn’t have told you that. Don’t tell anyone I told you that. Anywho! (they hand over the clipboard and a pen) Fill these out and we’ll get to you when you’re done. You want something for the pain right now?

BRYCE

I’m fine, thanks.

NURSE

Holler if you need me.

(The NURSE exits back the way they came. JULIAN starts to fill out the paperwork.)

BRYCE

I can do it, babe.

JULIAN

I got it, you just relax.

BRYCE

You don’t have to take care of me like this.

JULIAN

It’s what I do.

(A beat. JULIAN fills out the forms.)

BRYCE

I wish you hadn’t said that to them.

JULIAN

What?

BRYCE

Told them what happened.

JULIAN

They asked.

BRYCE

No, they didn’t ask *specifically* what happened. You could’ve just said I fell. You didn’t need to include the paper towels or the chair or whatever. It makes me feel stupid.

JULIAN

It was an accident, Bry.

BRYCE

Well now the nurse thinks I don’t know how to get paper towels down off of a shelf.

JULIAN

I’m sure they don’t And if so, who cares? You’ll never see them again after this.

BRYCE

But that’s the thing, they’ll tell people. I can tell, they’re a gossip.

JULIAN

What? Just because they told us about the guy and his wife? We interacted with them for like a minute. You can’t tell that after one minute of interaction.

BRYCE

They’re going to go home and tell their husband or wife or boyfriend or girlfriend or kids about the idiot woman who fell getting a new roll of paper towels down and broke her ankle.

JULIAN

We don’t know it’s broken.

BRYCE

You said it was.

JULIAN

What do I know?

BRYCE

Just let me do the talking when we meet with the doctor, okay?

JULIAN

I’m sure they won’t even let me in the room with you, babe. Everything will be fine.

(A beat. BRYCE massages her temples.)

BRYCE

I should’ve asked for aspirin.

JULIAN

Is it hurting you?

BRYCE

A little.

JULIAN

Well, let me-

BRYCE

No, it’s fine. I’m fine. You don’t need to do anything for me.

JULIAN

Okay? (moving on) Hey, what’s the address of the agency?

BRYCE

Why?

JULIAN (indicating the form)

They’re asking about your employment, they want the address.

BRYCE

It’s on 52^nd between 7^th and 8^th.

JULIAN

You don’t know the building number?

BRYCE

No I just know which doors to walk into. (flustered) Hold on, lemme look it up.

(BRYCE pulls out her phone and looks up the address.)

JULIAN

They also need the main office line.

BRYCE

That’s the 646 number, you know it.

JULIAN

Right.

BRYCE

The building number is 739.

JULIAN

Got it. And for occupation, you want me to write Associate or-

BRYCE

That’s not my title.

JULIAN

Well, you haven’t switched over yet, so I figured-

BRYCE

I’m a director now, you can put that. Director of Marketing.

JULIAN

I thought it wasn’t official yet?

BRYCE

They’re making it official this week.

JULIAN

You didn’t tell me that.

BRYCE (stumped)

What?

JULIAN

I didn’t know that was happening this week?

BRYCE

I thought I told you. They told me a few days ago.

JULIAN (over-the-moon)

Babe! That’s huge, congrats.

BRYCE

Yeah, can we not celebrate right now? I’m just not like-

JULIAN

Right, right. Okay.

(A beat. BRYCE looks around, grabs a magazine. She starts to read it, flips through quickly, then puts it away.)

BRYCE

What do you think he did?

JULIAN

Who?

BRYCE

The husband? Who got stabbed.

JULIAN

Oh, I don’t know. Must’ve been pretty bad to have his own wife stab him. A crime of passion.

BRYCE

I would never stab you.

JULIAN

Awww.

BRYCE

Wait this is fun, we should- Yeah. What’s the most you’d do to me?

JULIAN

What do you mean?

BRYCE

I mean violence-wise.

JULIAN

Well. That’s kind of a weird question.

BRYCE

No! It’s fun! What’s the most you’d hurt me.

JULIAN

I don’t really want to talk or think about that.

BRYCE

C’mon, it’s fun! I think I’d/

JULIAN

/Babe, that’s freaky./

BRYCE

/Burn you.

(A beat. JULIAN looks at BRYCE.)

JULIAN

Burn me?

BRYCE

Yeah.

JULIAN

Like with a hot pan, or-?

BRYCE

Like grease. Like throw grease in your face.

JULIAN (astonished)

Babe-

BRYCE

Or with like a branding stick.

JULIAN

That’s so fucked up.

BRYCE

No! C’mon, it’s fun. What’s your answer?

JULIAN

I really don’t want to play.

BRYCE

I told you mine, you tell me yours.

JULIAN (final)

I wouldn’t hurt you, Bryce. Like. I’m not capable of that.

(A beat. JULIAN goes back to the forms.)

BRYCE (feeling foolish)

I just thought it’d be fun.

JULIAN

It’s a morbid question, I really don’t want to think about it.

BRYCE

Okay. Okay, sorry.

JULIAN

It’s fine.

BRYCE

Babe. You don’t have to like, be afraid of it. I wouldn’t actually burn you.

JULIAN

Okay.

(A beat. BRYCE picks up a different magazine, she flips through it for a moment, pauses on an article.)

BRYCE

Apparently the country is running out of gold…

JULIAN

Do you have your insurance card?

BRYCE

Yeah, in my purse.

JULIAN

It’s Blue Cross Blue Shield, right?

BRYCE (getting the card out of her purse)

Yeah.

JULIAN

What’s the member ID?

BRYCE (reading it off to him)

JZ3454789087.

JULIAN

Allergic to walnuts-

BRYCE

Right.

JULIAN

Emergency Contact-

BRYCE

Just put my mom.

(A beat.)

JULIAN

Your mom?

BRYCE

Yeah.

JULIAN

Why would I put your mom?

BRYCE (reassuredly, nonchalant)

She can get here, she’s just in Jersey.

JULIAN

Bryce.

BRYCE

What?

JULIAN

Why wouldn’t I be your emergency contact?

(A beat. JULIAN stares at BRYCE)

BRYCE

I don’t know?

JULIAN

We live together.

BRYCE

It’s not like-

JULIAN

We’ve been dating for five years.

BRYCE

We’re not engaged or anything.

JULIAN

So?

BRYCE

I just said my mom, put yourself if you want! You’re the one filling out the form.

JULIAN

But you said-

BRYCE

I just said my mom, I wasn’t thinking. My ankle is killing me, I was just-

JULIAN

So lemme get this straight: say you get hit by a car on your way to work, you want them to call your sixty-five-year-old mother, who lives in Hackensack-New Jersey to come and get you in the hospital? But not your boyfriend of five years who you live with and who could get here in two minutes?

BRYCE

You’re making this into a bigger thing than it needs to be.

JULIAN

Why wouldn’t I be your emergency contact?

(The NURSE re-enters.)

NURSE

Doing okay?

BRYCE

Actually, it is kind of starting to ache. Can I get some aspirin?

NURSE

Sure thing. (to JULIAN) Just let me know when you’re done with the forms, okay?

JULIAN (bluntly)

Yeah, hang on.

NURSE

All right.

(The NURSE exits, a little peeved.)

BRYCE (to JULIAN, an almost whisper)

Don’t be rude! They’re just doing their job!

JULIAN

Why wouldn’t I be your emergency contact?

BRYCE (blurting it out)

Because we don’t know what’s going to happen.

(A beat.)

JULIAN

We don’t?

BRYCE

I meant-

JULIAN

You meant you didn’t know if we were still going to be together.

BRYCE

Don’t put words in my mouth.

JULIAN

Then what did you mean?

BRYCE

Okay! Yes, I meant that.

JULIAN

Wow this is fucked up.

BRYCE

Can we finish the form so I can get my ankle x-rayed, please?

JULIAN

You’re not sure if we’re still going to be together, so why list me as an emergency contact, right?

BRYCE

I just told you to put yourself.

JULIAN

Not at first!

BRYCE

Babe, c’mon. My ankle is broken over here, I’m in no place to be talking about all of this right now. My head is all mixed up.

JULIAN

This kind of makes sense. You didn’t tell me about the promotion being official, and you want to burn me with a hot rod, apparently-

BRYCE

That was a joke!

(The NURSE re-enters with a small cup with two aspirin and a cup of water. They hand them to BRYCE.)

BRYCE

Thank you. You’re a life saver.

NURSE (pointedly)

That’s my job.

(The NURSE exits.)

BRYCE

Now you’ve made them mad and they’re going to charge me for like a sonogram and an ultrasound and all this other stuff-

JULIAN

So you don’t think we’re going to stay together?

BRYCE (definitive)

Jules, I can’t with this right now.

JULIAN

Why did you say “we’re not engaged”?

BRYCE

When?

JULIAN

Before. You were making the argument I should put your mother down on this line, and you said “we’re not engaged”.

BRYCE

Because we’re not.

JULIAN

All right. Another question: will you consider us an actual, real relationship once we are engaged?

BRYCE

Absolutely.

JULIAN

But we aren’t now?

BRYCE

I didn’t say that.

JULIAN

So then what are we?

(A beat. BRYCE looks back at the magazine.)

JULIAN

Are we roommates? A couple? “Seeing each other”? Fuck-buddies? Hmm? Huh?

BRYCE

What do you think happens when we run out of gold?

JULIAN

Bry. This is fucked up beyond belief.

BRYCE (turning to him)

I shouldn’t have said anything.

(A beat. JULIAN turns back to the form.)

JULIAN

I’m just going to put your mom.

BRYCE

Jules, don’t do that. Just put yourself.

JULIAN (turning to her, pointedly)

I’m putting your mother down on the line. End of discussion.

(A beat. JULIAN finishes filling out the form. He clicks the pen closed. The NURSE re-enters.)

NURSE

All set?

BRYCE

Looks like it.

NURSE (taking the clip board)

I don’t want you walking on that without support. Lemme drop these at the nurse’s station and I’ll come to help you to the x-ray machine. Be right back.

BRYCE

Thank you.

(A beat. They sit in silence for awhile.)

BRYCE

Julian?

JULIAN

I’d stab you. That’s my answer. I just carried you ten blocks to the ER, I’ve taken care of you, lifted you off the floor, paid for meals, compromised in a ton of ways, loved you unconditionally, including now, which has been pretty shitty. I wouldn’t shoot you because that would be quick. Shoving you down stairs or off a cliff would probably be a lot of build-up to not-that-satisfying a result. And you said burning, which I think is just fucking malicious. I’d probably stab you. Because it *is* a crime of passion and it would at least show you that I felt strongly enough about you. It’s personal, you know? Because I love you. And I could at least show you I loved you.

(A beat.)

BRYCE

Wow.

JULIAN

You wanted to know, so.

BRYCE (relishing it)

You’re a little fucked up inside, aren’t you?

JULIAN

I didn’t used to be. Before I met you.

(They sit in silence. The NURSE re-enters with the wheelchair.)

NURSE

All right, let’s get you kids out of here. (to JULIAN) You’ll have to wait out here. That okay?

JULIAN

Sure.

NURSE (holding out a hand for BRYCE)

Here we go.

(BRYCE stops the NURSE.)

BRYCE

Wait, I’m sorry- (to the NURSE) Why did the woman stab her husband?

NURSE

Oh, I really shouldn’t have said anything before. HIPAA and all that-

BRYCE

C’mon we won’t tell.

NURSE (thinking it over)

Well. You know? I like you two. (getting into the gossip of it all) I overheard her giving the police her statement. They’ve been together forty-five years, just celebrated their anniversary with some big party the other day, blah blah blah. And tonight she just snapped! Came into the living room, he’s sitting on the recliner watching some game show or something, eating the lasagna she made, and she comes into the room and asks him what he’s watching, and he tells her, she says “huh”, just kind uninterested, and then *BAM* stabs him right in the chest. One of the cops showed one of the other nurses the crime scene photos on his phone- blood right there, all over the chair and the lasagna! She didn’t even let him finish! But this part you really can’t tell anyone- it was because he was whistling.

BRYCE

Whistling?

NURSE

Yeah, he just kept whistling. All through the anniversary party, for the past month, as she tells it, he’s whistling over and over and he won’t stop. He was whistling that- what’s that kind of racist song from Disney that everyone was all up in arms about? They’re changing that ride?

BRYCE

Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah?

NURSE

Yes! That one! He’s whistling it over and over and over and, apparently, it’s driving her crazy, but she doesn’t tell him this. As she tells it to the cops, she actually kind of likes that song, racist issues aside. But tonight, for whatever reason, she lost it. But this part I can’t get over: the absolutely crazy part? She wants him to call her. She’s waiting at the police precinct and she wants him to call her when he gets out of surgery. Just make sure that he’s okay. And he said he would. The first call he’s going to make is to the woman who stabbed him.

(A beat.)

NURSE (finally)

Say what you want, love makes people do some fucked up things. Pardon my language. Anyways, I’m blabbing on here. Let’s get you all better.

(The NURSE helps BRYCE to her foot, supports her. BRYCE turns to JULIAN.)

BRYCE (scared)

Jules?

JULIAN

Yeah?

BRYCE

 You’ll wait out here for me?

JULIAN (seeing her fear)

Sure. I’ll be here.

BRYCE

Okay.

JULIAN

Okay. (reassuring) It’s all going to be fine.

BRYCE

Yeah?

JULIAN

I’ll wait right here for you.

NURSE (to BRYCE)

Ready?

BRYCE

Yes.

(They start to exit.)

BRYCE (to NURSE)

You know, you can tell my story to people if you want. It’s kind of funny.

NURSE

Oh, honey, your story is not that interesting. 

(They’re gone. JULIAN sits and stares for awhile. He exhales. He picks up the magazine BRYCE was reading earlier. He reads it. Lights down. End of play.)