Act. Perhaps life is. Scene. A musical.

1 Stands on stage. 

Spotlight on 1

A and B appear at the sides of 1.

They are dressed in government style suits and ties. 

1 feels extremely vulnerable. 

Suddenly A begins to speak.

A. I love you.

1. Really? Wait... Really? No one has ever loved me before. All this time I thought you hated me. And you loved me? Oh my god... I think I'm about to cry. I'm sorry. This is not at all how I expected my first I love you to be. But... It's great. I feel so loved. Hahaha. I guess thats what happens when you're loved. 

B. You're perfect.

1. Pardon? Do you... Do you really mean it? All this time I thought you hated me. And you thin I'm perfect. Hahaha. Oh My god... I think I'm about to cry. I... I have always hated myself. There was nothing I liked about me. And you think I'm perfect? Oh God. Someone in the world Loves me and someone thinks I'm perfect. This could quite possibly be the happiest day of my--

A&B. Now change.

1. What?

A. You're hair is tawny..

1. Well-

B. You're a little pudgy.

1. It's just-

A. You should brush your teeth more.

1. I-

B. Perhaps get eye surgery.

1. It's-

A. Facelift?

1. Well-

B. Do you always slouch?

1. I'm-

A. Have you ever dieted?

1. You-

A. Because you really should.

1. Ok.

(Silence.)

A&B leave.

1 is alone. 

1. How quickly and strangely things change around here. 

1 Looks to the sky.

1. I'm ready to wake up now. 

END

Act. Aly. Scene. Vador.

Lights up.

We see the shinney outside of elevator doors.
Just cleaned.
Real bright.

A man with a briefcase comes and presses the button for the 18th floor.

When he releases his finger the button does not stay lit.

The man stands for a moment longer than he usually does.

He looks down and notices that the button is not lit.

He presses it again.

It still doesn't light up.

He presses it and holds it.

Lets go.

No luck.

He starts look around frantically.

We hear his brain audibley thinking.

Brain. Stairs? What? No. I'm a full grown man, I am not about to take the stairs. And arrive at work all sweaty? Puh-leeze. I guess I could just stand here like I have been waiting this whole time and then when someone else comes they will notice that something is wrong and when they ask if something is wrong I would say pardon? and they would say it's not lit and I would say I hadn't noticed and then they would seem like the worry wart and not me I would just look l ike a chill casual guy waiting for his elevator that actually doesn't work without a care in the world. Yes. This could work. That is what I will do.

He casually stands.

Still.

Still.

Still.

It's been nine and a half hours.

Man looks around.

Brain. No doubt I may be a tad late for work. But this has all been worth it. I wonder where everyones at. I wonder what is up with this elevator. I wonder...

The man looks at the shiney doors and then proceedes to pry them open. As he opens them so does a black whole that engulfs him, his breifcase, his brain, his thoughts, his stomach, his clothes, his hat, his tie, his heart, his love, his kindness, his ignorance, his racial tenencies, and, no doubt, his tardiness.

END

Act. A young Lady's. Scene. Rebuttal.

**A sequel to Lauren's play about an Old Woman accusing a Young Lady writer that she don't know SHIT about anything and shouldn't be writing and shouldn't be writing about the shit she don't know**

We begin where that play left off.

An Old Woman sits on the left side of the bunch... utterly proud of her rant to the Young Lady.

The Young Lady sits... as if defeated.

The Old Woman begins to whistle a tune.

The Young Lady begins to cry... just a little.

The Old Woman's tune grows into a full on marching band.

The Young Lady looks at the Old Woman slowly.

The Young Lady has a look of 'Who the FUCK do you think you are?' on her face.

Old Woman. What? You got something to say?

Young Lady. Yes.

Old Woman. Say it.

Young Lady. Fuck you. 

The Old Woman slaps the Young Lady.

Old Woman. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?

Young Lady. No. I kiss her with this one.

The Young Lady punches the Old Woman in the face.

The Old Woman falls over and is now accompanied  with a broken nose.

Young Lady. They're are plenty of writers who haven't gone through what they write about. And How fucking boring would life be if we only stick with what we know? Shakespeare sure as hell didn't go through all the stuff that he fucking wrote about. He was never a black man. He was never a cross dressing woman. He was never stranded on an island with magical powers. He was never driven to insanity with unrequited love. You bitch and moan about how I should write about the things I've one through. But I can't. And I won't. Because my life has been pretty fucking boring up till now. The only exciting and spontaneous thing I have done was punch and old dried up cunt of a woman five seconds ago. Why don't you write something? Huh? Tell the world about your pain. Maybe you'll stop being such a scabby twat! We are here to help each other get through this. I understand that. But I have absolutely no sympathy for people like you who will not accept help from others. So, you're older than me. Big fucking deal. You've been through shit I haven't. I will probably go through the same shit you've gone through. So... yeah. Stop being so... mean. Okay?

The Young Lady gets up.

The Old Woman is still on the ground riving in pain.

Old Woman. Fuck you.

Young Lady. Suck my dick.

The Young Lady leaves to write a novel/play/song/novella/opera/collection of short stories/nobel prize winning anthology/ magazine article/in her journal/on the stalls of bathrooms/ poetry/ shit.

END

Act. Remember... Scene. When...

Lights up.

A man stands at a microphone

A woman stands at a microphone

A boy stands at a microphone.

The microphone heights are:

5'00"

4'04"

3'09"

They speak as they read from notebook papers they have written on.

Woman. Remember when I thought I was a woman?

Man. Remember when I thought I had control?

Woman. Remember when we took that trip to paris?

Boy. Remember when I caught that grasshopper?

Man. Remember when I broke down?

Boy. Remember when that grasshopper died?

Woman. Remember when we had sex?

Boy. We had a funeral for it.

Woman. You were rough. And cold.

Man. Remember when I asked you to marry me?

Woman. I pretended you were warm and gentle

Boy. I cried.

Woman. Because that's what I wanted.

Man. You said yes and then you cried.

Boy. Remember when I played baseball?

Man. And cried and cried.

Woman. Remember when we took that balloon into the air?

Man. Then you threw your arms around me. 

Boy. Remember when I caught that pop fly and you were proud of me?

Man. And you said Yes like it would be the last time someone would ask you a questioned you would say yes to.

Woman. We saw the fields and roads below... like it was a small model train set.

Boy. Daddy?

Woman. It was like we were in our own world.

Boy. Remember when you were proud of me, Daddy?

Woman. Remember when you were in love with me?

Man. Remember when we slipped away?

Boy. I caught that fly ball and got Andy out. 

Man. And you no longer waited till I got home from work to go to bed. 

Boy. And you were happy for me.

Woman. Remember when you were in love with me? Remember?

Boy. And you shouted "That's my boy!"

Woman. I bragged all the time, 'That's MY boy."

Boy. You loved me so much.

Woman. You couldn't keep your hands off me.

Man. We used to kiss like it was our jobs. Hahaha.

Boy. That was before. 

Man. You loved the taste of my mouth, you said.

Boy. That was before.

Man. Said it tasted like 'Man'.

Boy. Before you were sad. 

Woman. You would touch me all over like I was the last thing you would ever touch. 

Man. We kissed as if we would never see each other ever again.

Boy. Before you were sad and made everyone else around you sad.

Man. When we held each other... I never wanted to let go. Never.

Boy. You were so angry all the time.

Woman. You wanted to know exactly what my body was like. Wanted to know the curves exactly. How my waist was. How my nipples felt. My teeth. The difference of the skin from my elbow to my knee to my toes to my thigh to my vagina to my arm to my lips... my lips... remember when you would lick my lips. You said they tasted like the ocean. Said they tasted like 'Fresh'. And you loved me. Remember when you loved me?

Man. I never wanted to let go. I would hold you. I would try and push yourself into me. I knew that we could become one person if we tried hard enough. And every time. Every single time as I was about to push you inside of me you would break and say, 'gotta go to work'. or 'you're hurting me, Leonard.' And I would let you go and stare at your eyes that were never looking back at me. They were... looking at a watch... or my beard and then you would say, 'you need to shave.' I never wanted to let go, April. You did. You're the one who moved from me in the bed. You were the one who stopped touching me. I remember we used to have sex all the time. Now... the idea makes you bored and miserable. Remember when I was happy?

Boy. You were so proud of me, Daddy. Remember when you were proud of me? And you bragged to everyone else that I was your son. I felt like I belonged. I felt, 'thank God, My dad knows I'm his son.' And on our way home we got an ice cream cone and we shared it and you said you loved me and I smiled like I was never going to smile again. 

Woman. Remember when you loved me?

BLACKOUT

Act. I did not expect. Scene. This/That

Lights up.

1 Stands at microphone.

1. There are many thigns that I expect to happen to me as I wake up in the morning and think about what the day has in store for me. I expect to feel grogy. I expect that I will have a hard time opening my eyes. I expect that after I wash my face with my special anti-acne face wash that my skin will feel extremely tight. I expect after I put lotion on it it will feel much better. I expect that after I step out of my shower my room will be as it was when I walked into the shower. Empty. I expect that I will make the walk to work in the rain. I expect that the sun will not shine. I expect that work will be monotanous and I will think about what would happen if I let my tie go in the paper shredder. I think about putting my credit card in the paper shredder. I think about putting my social security card in the paper shredder. I think about putting my boss in the paper shredder. I expect that around 1:30 i will have to go to the bathroom but my fear of public restrooms will prevent me and I will go through the rest of the day in discomfort. I expect that when I get back to my apartment it will be just how it was when I left it to go to work. Empty. I expect I'll make dinner for myself and have left overs. I expect I'll fall asleep eating peanuts and watching T.V. but not really watching. It's just on. I'll be thinking about other things. Like what it would be like to be a flower. Or what it would be like to have wings. Or what it would be like if I could sing. Or what it would be like I I was in love. Or what it would be like if I could fall in love. Or what it would be like it I LET myself fall in love. Or what would it be like if I didn't go to work tomorrow. Or what it would be like it I didn't wake up tomorrow. Or what it would be like if I held my breath for so long underneath this pillow that I wouldn't wake up. And I wonder if I would go to heaven or hell. And I wonder if God is a woman. And I wonder if God even likes me.

I wonder if God even likes me.

I expect not.

But I won't do any of these things.
Because I'm a coward.

So I go to bed after I turn off the television.

And fall alseep.
Dreaming of simplier times.
Like when Glasses were filled to the brim with sweet milk and oranges squeezed themselves to make my breakfast drink.

END

Act. What if I touch... Scene. Here?

Lights up.
Boy and Girl in a nondescript place talking about a VERY descript activity.

**Just to show that the author does not discriminate you may play these characters as ANY sex. There names remain Boy and Girl though.**

Girl. I don't know what to do.

Boy. You don't have to know what to do. It isn't like there is a checklist or something dumb like that. You just... do.

Girl. But what if I do something stupid?

Boy. You won't.

Girl. Yes I will.

Boy. No you won't.

Girl. Stop telling me how I'm going to feel. You don't know.

Boy. I'm sorry.

Girl. I'm sorry.

(Pause)

Boy. If you don't want to.

Girl. I do.

Boy. It seems like you don't.

Girl. I just want to get it over with. Like... This whole awkward part.

Boy. It's not awkward, baby.

(Boy rubs Girl's shoulder)

Girl. Okay. That's awkward.

Boy. Really? Oh. That's what they do in all the movies when Girl is awkward and it seems to calm them down. No?

Girl. No.

Boy. Huh...

(Silence for 6.5 minutes)

During this silence they do not look at each other.
But akwardly they stare straight ahead.
Once the timer has the the 6.5 minute mark.
Girl slowly reaches her hand over and places it lightly on Boy's leg.
Boy is excited but tries to act cool and and casual as if nothing is happening.
Girl slides it ontop of Boy's crotch and begins to rub.
Boy closes his eyes and his smile tightens.
Girl looks at Boy with his eyes closed.
She has a sad look in her eyes.

What Boy is feeling is indescribable.
The person he loves is making him feel a feeling that is so unique and powerful.
Boy is everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.
Boy is inhalling little tiny Girl's inside himself and they are dancing in Boy's lungs.
He is so happy.
You cna't imagine how good this feels.

And then there is Girl.
The stick in Boy's pants hardens.
It feels just like that.
A hard stick.
A cold shaft.
Her hand begins to feel numb on the outside from the excessive ammount of denim that is scratching her palm.
She continues though because she likes that Boy is feeling good.
It makes her feel good.
Not sexually, of course.
But it makes her feel accepted.

She begins to think, aloud perhaps.
Girl. (Boy will stay with me. If I can make him feel this good, he'll stay with me. He'll never leave me. I jsut have to be sure to make him feel good all the time. I need to make him feel so good he will never be able to exist without this feeling. I need him to become addicted to me.)

Girl cries.
Boy dies.

END

Act. It's never to late. Scene. Scratch that.

Lights up.

We are in a living room.
The world is falling apart.
Literally.
Antartica just went and done fell right off.
There is a massive hole where it use to be.
But somehow things are not falling INTO the hole.
But out of.

It's like suddenly space has gravity.
And all of earth is slowly melting and falling off at the bottom.
I hope thats clear.
It's vital for this break up scene.

So... living room.
Martha stands with her arms folded while Sam is rushing all over the house collecting his things.

The year is 4097.
They speak in Uptomiese.
Translations are provided in brackets.

Sam. SumaSumaSuma!! Yuptley unk sisisi moo-ey Sto!
[That's it! We're done! You come and go now. House is yours!]

Martha. AyAy itrely hersese walo quef toatadsy. TOATADSY!
[Fine by me! I just want you out. OUT!]

Sam. Iuta yuma lasawre tulololalala tewa?!
[I'm getting out, what does it look like?!]

There is a pause as Sam realizes he is done packing.
There is a pause as Martha realizes she is done yelling.

Martha. Yuma presion tula relao pse.
[You make me so sad]

Sam. Lola nuyn sawa talo.
[Never been anything else]

Martha. Tula yofmad?
[You ever wonder?]

Sam. Yofmad hunc?
[Wonder what?]

Martha. Hunc fulo fewrse buinance?
[What it would be like if we were happy?]

Beat

Sam. Tolo.
[No.]

Martha. Ui waserta
[Me neither]

Beat.
Sam gathers his things.
He takes his coat of the coat hanger.
Places it on his head.
Martha goes to the closet to get his jacket.
She puts it on him.
He picks up his briefcase.
They stare at each other.
He looks at her and moves in to kiss her.
She moves in as well.
A kiss.
A simple Kiss.
Nothing has been simple between them ever.
This is the first thing.
It feels so good.
So good.

They move back and stare at each other.
Martha opens the door.

Martha. Goodbye.
[Goodbye]

Sam. I love you.
[I love you]

Martha. Goodbye
[Goodbye]

Sam is defeated.

Sam. Goodbye
[Goodbye]

Sam leaves.
Martha shuts the door.

Suddenly everything seems to be slipping through a hole on the floor.
Martha clings on to the door knob for life.
The carpet gets vacuumed in.
The lamp shades are the second to go.
Thirdly is a cat that flies in from the other room.
Then the fake trees.
Then the floorboard.
And then the doorknob.
Along with Martha.

END

Act. You blue it. Scene. Hard Core.

She sits in a chair by the table with a cop of pomegranite tea.

Her arms are folded.

She is upset.

He comes in.

He. Hi.

She. hm.

He. Whats wrong?

She. You forgot.

He. I... what? 

She. You forgot.

He. I forgot what.

She. You know what you forgot.

He. If I knew what I forgot I wouldn't have forgot it.

She. You didn't FORGET.

He. What are you talking about?!

She. You didn't forget. You know right well you didn't. You say you forgot but you knew exactly.

(Pause)

He. Caught me.

She. Did more than that, sweetie.

END

Act. L. Scene 8.

Lights up. 

1 walks in.

Looks at their watch. 

Looks around. 

1 Has a briefcase and a nice little hat.

It's a cute gray one.

Little flare.

But still classy.

1 sits down.

For about 309 Seconds. 

2 Walks in. 

Very Casually. 

2. Oh.

1. Hello.

2. You're early.

1. Late.

2. Pardon?

1. I'm late. 

2. Early.

1. No.

2. Yes.

(Beat)

2. I'm on time. 

1. I'm late. 

2. Early. If I'm on time you're early. 

(Beat)

1. Ugh. Whatever.

2. Yeah. Fuck you too.

They flip each other.

Kiss. 

Then slap each other with their briefcases.

Kiss again.

But this time there is no passion. They simply do it because they are told. 

They shake hands.

And go off opposite of how they came on.

END

Act. TEA PARTY Scene. Continued

Lights up.

A pleasant kitchen at precisely 8:04 in the AM.

Marjorie is in a pristine red polka dot housewives dress and she is at the kitchen sink, washing dishes.

Max sits at the kitchen table with his hands resting atop the place mat. 

Max is very numb and seemingly unhappy... but more numb. 

Max has gloves covering his hands. 

The gloves have short little spikes all over them... sorta like the pointy end of a thumbtack. 

They are both 38 years old. 

Suddenly Mark comes skipping in.

Mark is their son.

Mark. MORNING MOM!

Marjorie. Oh! My little angel! How are you today, My little angel!

Mark. I'm just swell. I studied for my mathematics test today!

Marjorie. Oh? And how is my little Einstein gonna do?

Mark. Just Swell, Mom. Just Swell.

Marjorie. I would expect nothing less. Here is your lunch. It's a peanut butter sandwich and there is an apple in there too. OH! And here is a thermos of orange juice.

Mark. You are just the swelliest mom there is.

Marjorie. Oh! Angel.

(They kiss)

Marjorie. Now, say goodbye to your father.

Mark. (Lowered voice) Do I haveta?

Marjorie. What do you mean do you have to? You GET to. He's your father. Don't be ridiculous, son. Go on!

(Marjorie pushes her son over)

Mark. Hi, Dad.

(No response)

Mark. I'm going off to school.

(No response)

Mark. I have a test today. But don't worry. I studied real good for it.

(No response)

Mark. Billy's Dad was asking about ya the other day. Said he hasn't seen you around the plant lately. Been wondering where ya were. Started talking about how you're some dead beat that--

Marjorie. Mark!

(Mark stops)

Marjorie. Look at the time. You'll miss your bus. Go on. Scoot!

Mark. Bye Dad.

(Mark rushes out)

Marjorie dries off her hands and leans against the kitchen sink and looks at her husband. She goes over to a cabinet and retrieves a book. She begins to read aloud.

Marjorie. Day 180. Today is the day the gloves become more than just a habit. They become a lifestyle. To show your husband that touching his penis is wrong. To show your husband that touching other penis' is wrong. He is supposed to love you. He will love you. He was appointed by your creator to love you. Never think other wise. He is a good christian man. The gloves will stay on for good. For God. Just remember, Read to him a chapter a day from Exodus. You won't have your old husband back. But with all of his past actions... who WOULD want him back.

Marjorie closes the book. 

She looks at it. 

Throws it on the table.

She begins to pound it.

With choke behind it.

As if she is trying to push it through the table. 

She stops. 

She is spent.

She looks at her husbands hands.

She opens the books and takes Max's hands and begins ripping the pages out with his spiked gloves.

Max doesn't move. It's as if nothing is happening. 

Soon, the book is a simple pile of shredded trash. 

Marjorie steps back. 

Looks at Max.

Approaches him slowly.

She reaches for his right wrist and SLOWLY begins to take off the right glove.

She places it in the cabinet. 

She reaches for his left wrist and SLOWLY begins to take off the left glove.

She places it in the cabinet. 

She gently takes Max's hands and places them on top one another on the table. 

She steps back.

Marjorie. Touch me.

(No response)

Marjorie. Please? I'm dying over here. I need to feel you again. I need to feel your warmth. I miss it. I forget what your hands felt like against my side. I think... I think... It was rough. But a good kinda rough. The kinda rough that felt good because it was someone else saying 'I'm right here with you, Marjorie, I'm right here'. 

She looks at Max for something. 

For anything.

She begins to quietly cry as Max remains motionless. 

Most likely from the Shock therapy she put him through. 

She cries.

Marjorie. I'm here here with you, Marjorie, I'm right here. I'm right here with you, Marjorie, I'm right here. I'm right here with you, Marjorie, I'm right here. I'm right here. I'm right here, Max. I'M RIGHT HERE!

Max slowly moves his head and looks at her.

She smiles through her tears.

For hope.

Marjorie. Touch me.

Lights fade as they are eye locked and marjorie holds out her hands and cries with a smile. As if one would with a lover who has been paralyzed for years and is now finally beginning to walk. 

END

Act. She seems like. Scene. An old friend.

Lights up.

A microphone. 

Pure Silver.

Edna St. Vincent Millay takes the stage.

Looking very charming.

Edna. Hello All.

(Applause from the peanut gallery that pretends to know her work... but it's really a class thing... Tickets were 234023948230y780 dollars and 39 cents. It looks real good if you're here tonight of all nights)

Edna. I would like to give you some advice.

(The audience dies down)

Edna. I love humanity. But I hate people.

(Silence)

Edna. It's not true that life is on damn thing after another; it is on damn thing over and over.

(Silence)

Edna. Soar. Eat Ether. See what has never been seen. Depart. Be lost. But Climb.

(Silence)

Edna. Where you used to be. There is a hole in the world. Which I find myself constantly walking around in daytime. And falling into at night. I miss you like hell.

(Silence)

(Silence)

(A single boo is heard)

Edna. Thank you.

(She leaves.)

END

Act. And I wonder Scene. As I wander

Lights up.

An interrogation room.
But also a stage somehow.
Really it's a therapy session.
The therapists name is Dr. Kerogudkfhldkahich III.
He specializes in people.
People who are plain people.
People who are nothign else but people.
People who are perfectly fine... but are JUST people.
In our world today that seems to be something frowned upon in most casses.

His first client walks up to the microphone.
His name is Chuck.
Chuck has an overbite.

Voice (the Dr.). Whenever you're ready, Chuchk.

The voice is loud and booming and scares Chuck.
He begins to Shake.

Voice. It's okay, Chuck... I'm here. We've been through this before. We can do this.

Chuck. Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok. (DEEEEEEP BREATH) I want to be happy. I want to stop feeling so sad. I want to stop remembering what it was like before the accident. I think that if I forget what it was like before I was unhappy... I wouldn't think about that time I was happy so much... and I wouldn't have anything to compare this unhappiness to... and I would think that it was normal and I was happy now. And I would be able to grow. And I would be able to love. And I would be able to see. And I would be able to let go. And I would be able to to be happy. And I would be able to be happy. And I would be able to understand happiness. And I would be able to say fuck ya'll. Because that's what I wanna do. That's all I wanna fucking do. say Fuck Ya'll. To those who I gave more love to than gave love to me. To those I spent countless nights with and got nothing back. To those who I laid in my bed with used my arm as a pillow and I didn't complain when it fell asleep because I knew it mad you comfortable. Naw. Naw. Naw. Not any mo' mothafucka. This getting's got to git got. And check it right heah. I'm gonna by the one ta led it drop. See? I'm gonna be the one ta take the stand. I'm gonna be the one that will say FUCK YOU when I see you coming to my door again. FUCK YOU. You ain't welcome here no more. Maria. If you can hear me. Hear this. You can kiss my shinney white nigga wanna be ass. I hate you maria. You stole my family. You stole my friends. You stole my life. You stole my happiness. You were the acident. I wish I could forget what life was like before I emt you. Maybe. then. Just FUCKING maybe I would give you a chance to come back in my life. (Beat) I remember the nights when we would jsut hold each other and hold each other till the cows come home. You 'member that Maria? When I would stroke your hair? When I would lick your ears? 'Memba that one time, Maria when I was stroking your hair and you said 'stop it' and took my hand and put it on the bed. That hurt Maria. That fucking hurt. That's how this boy rolls. But Maria... damn. You never love me the way I love you. And that's what I need. You hear? That's what this boy fuckign needs. I need someone who can't live without me. I need someone who LOVES the taste of my mouth. I need someone who wants to live inside me. Someone who can't keep their hands of my COCK. HA! DAMN Maria. You none of these things. I sho did love your pussy though. Taste like honey. Warm wet honey that dripped drop dripped drop. You dig?

Maria comes on stage.

Maria. What you RIVING at today, Chuck?

Chuck. Get outa here cunt.

Mara. Oh no. NONONONONONO. You ain't gonna do this to me boy. You ain't gonna do this. 

Chuck. Shut the fuck up.

Maria. What you want from me?! huh?! What you want!?

Chuck. I want you to love me.

Maria. I don't.

(BEAT)

Chuck. Then maybe you should leave.

Maria. Maybe I should leave.

(Nothing happens)

Chuck. Why ain't you goin' nowhere?

Maria. I be here first.

Chuck. Fucking bitch.

Maria. Bitch this bitch that. You just mad because you love me. I ain't never tol you to love me.

Chuck. No one ever asks to be loved.

Maria. You ask to be love. all the fucking time. When you fucking me. Pounding down at me like I'm a sack of dead meat all you say is LOVE ME MARIA LOVE ME.

Chuck. Stop it Maria.

Maria. I ain't love you chuck. I ain't EVA gona love you. That's just how this cookie crumbles. K?

Chuck. SHUT UP.

(BEAT)

Maria. I'll tell you this Chuck the duck. You ain't eva gona find love. And you know why? Because you SPECT it. you spect it to just come on and drop right outa the sky and into yo lap and it ain't gonna do that. That ain't how love works. You walking around here like you someone. You ain't no one. You ain't no one chuck. You gota shitty messy slimy stinky nasty disgusting studio apartment. No one gonna love that. You hate yoself. No one gonna love that.

Chuck. All you eva did was point out all the bad shit about me.

Maria. So?

Chuck. That hurt me, Maria! K? It hurt me real bad.

Maria. Get. Over. It.

Chuck. I hate yo.

Maria. Yo said yo loved me.

Chuck. I was lying befo.

Maria. You ain't never lie a day in your life.

Chuck. That ain't true.

Maria. Bullshit.

Chuck. I lied about all the bad things so you would love me mo.

Maria. Bullshit.

Chuck. You can sleep at home tonight.

Maria. I was planning it. 

Chuck. And while you're there alone in your own bed. I don't want you to think of me. I don't want you to think of all the fun times we had. I don't want you to think of all the laughing we had, Maria. Because those times. Those are my times. You don't deserve times like those. YOu don't deserve those because you takes advantage of me. You out there with all those other guys kissing on them and blowing on them and touching on them. And you ain't eva get they first names. And here I am. Chuck. A man who loves you and you don never once touch me the way you touch them. How do you think that makes me feel? Makes me feel like I ain't got no name. Like I ain't got no face, Maria. And I need a face. I need one real bad. Because this one, according to you, be ugly. I feel it maria. My face be trippin. It be slipping off. Melting. I need a new face. And I ain't neva gon find a new face if it be with you. I hate you, Maria. I hate you. So much.

Slowly through the past scene the stage has turned into a volcano. And then into an island. And then into the ocean. And then into the Moon. And then into Kelly's A200 class in a half hour where he will fail his midterm. Then a sack full of shit. Then a toilet bowl. Then a wad a gum. Then an ant hill. Then another ocean, but not the same one from before. Then my old house. Then on top of my old dog, cody, who- And I'm convinced of this to this day. Was the only thing that was ever living and breathing that loved me.

Maria has disappeared. 

Chuck is by himself.

He speaks into the microphone.

Chuck. How'd I do doctor?

No answer

Chuck. Doctor?

The Doctor has died.

He had a brain aneurism .

Chuck. Shit. Not another one. All I ever wanted was someone who loved me. Someone who can't live without me. I want that. I need that. People be so lucky when they find that. I ain't never going to find it. Ever.

END

Act. WAH Scene TERR

Lights up.

Two people come out on opposite ends of the stage.

They are transfixed.

Things become clearer.

We recognized them.

It is Hamlet and Ophelia. 

Hamlet looks as if he has been through a way zone and shot 234928384020348 times.

Ophelia looks as if she has had all the blood sucked out of her and held on water for a million trillion years.

They walk towards each other... but do not see each other... 

They walk closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and closer and they pass each other. 

There is a SLIGHTSLIGHTSLIGHTSLIGHTSLIGHT pause. It is not recognized by the audience. That's how fucking small this pause is.

In that pause is a moment of realizing someone is there.

They keep walking slowly to thier ends of the stage.

Once they get there. They stop. And take a long turn around and lock eyes.

They recognize each other.

They walk VERY slowly to each other. 

They are face to face.

Hamlet. My Ophelia. Oh... My Ophelia. 

Hamlet lifts his hand to touch Ophelia's face.

Ophelia violently grabs it.

Ophelia. What the fuck you think you're doing? You know what I've been through. I loved you. Mother Fucker. 

Ophelia Spits in Hamlet's Face.

Ophelia Twists Hamlets hand so much his arm breaks.

Ophelia Kicks him in the chest so he falls to the ground. 

Blood comes pouring out of Hamlets mouth. In a whisper we hear him say.

Hamlet. I am standing water.

Ophelia. I'll teach you to flow. 

Ophelia takes her bare foot and steps on Hamlet's throat until it goes through to the ground. She lifts her foot back out of it and continues walking.

Hamlet is left alone on stage.

He sings forever... or until the house is empty... or until some audience member dies... or until Abraham Lincoln raises from the dead... or until Ophelia apologizes... Or until the world ends.

Hamlet. Tomorrow is saint valentines. and I a maid at your window to be your valentine and up she rose and dawn'd her clothes and up'd the chamber door... (Etc)

END