A Journal Of Plays

Act. The end of the Scene. Bolivian Tango

2010-01-02T18:34:00.000-08:00

Two men are sitting at a table for coffee.

Neither is drinking.

We’re beginning in the middle of their conversation.

Man 1. And so the girl came along and the boy just left with her. I think she took the baby too.

Man 2. So… this has to do with us?

Man 1. Yeah.

Man 2. The gay penguins at the zoo… they have to do with us?

Man 1. Yes.

Man 2. Okay.

Beat

Man 1. Paul?

Man 2. Yes?

Man 1. Are we the gay penguin parents from the zoo?

Man 2. Yes.

Beat

Man 1. What’s her name?

Man 2. Sadie.

Man 1. Gross.

Man 2. I just think little Rachel needs a mother.

Man 1. Okay.

Man 2. And Rachel likes Sadie.

Man 1. Okay.

Beat

Man 2. I found Jesus. And Jesus helped me fin Rachel. And Rachel helped me find happiness.

Man 1. Okay.

Man 2. Okay.

Beat

Man 2. So we cool?

Sadie walks in with Rachel on her hip.

Sadie. Let’s go, dear.

Man 2. Alright. I’ll see you later.

Man 1. Hi, Rachel.

Rachel. Sunday School says you’re going to hell.

Man 1. Probably.

End

Act. The Curse of Scene. the Malaysian Crush

2010-01-01T22:47:00.000-08:00

A woman is digging a hole.

Another woman walks up and stares for a minute.

Watcher. Almost there?

Digger. Not quite sure.

Watcher. Yeah…

Digger crouches down and feels the floor of the hole.

Watcher. Hot? Is it hot?

Digger. Cold.

Watcher. Huh…

Digger. Yeah, I know. Strange.

Watcher. Strange.

Digger. Yeah, I know.

Pause

Digger decides to keep digging.

Watcher pulls out a soda.

Watcher. Want one?

Digger. No.

Digger digs.

Watcher watches.

A ‘clink’ is heard.

They get excited.

Watcher. What was that?

Digger. A clink. It’s shiny. IT’S SHINY!!

Watcher. Dig it! Dig it! Dig it!

Digger. I’m digging! It’s shiny! Oh! It’s so shiny!!

Watcher. Get it!

Digger digs real fast and throws her shovel.

She bends down and grabs what was in the hole.

Watcher. Drag it up!

Digger. Help me!

Watcher. Ugh.

Watcher gets in the hole.

They both emerge.

The drag a man’s corpse.

Watcher. Get the watch!

Digger. Gold bracelet.

Watcher. Rings.

Digger. There are two.

Watcher. Three. Check the pinky.

Digger. Right.

Watcher. Shoes.

Digger. Necklace.

Watcher. Wallet?

Digger. They don’t bury you with a wallet.

Watcher. Check anyway. Dad always had his wallet on him not matter what.

Digger flips the corpse over and checks his pockets.

Mother appears from the shadows.

Mother. Looking for something?

Mother is dangling a wallet from between her fingers.

Watcher. Mom!

Mother. Seventy-two dollars and Ten Euros.

Digger. Give it!

Digger lunges to Mother.

They wrestle.

Obscenities are exchanged.

Digger. Whore!

Mother. Slut!

Digger. Bitch!

Mother. Cunt!

Digger. AAAHHHH!!!

In one final struggle, Digger wins the wallet.

Mother. I want the body then.

Watcher. What can you do with it?

Mother. Sell it to science. Taxidermy, maybe. Hell if I know.

Digger. Fine. Have it.

Mother goes over and drags the body off.

Mother. Ungrateful bitches. Should have killed you when I had the chance.

Watcher. What we get?

Digger. A lot. We got a lot!!

Watcher. Three hundred?

Digger. Four hundred, probably.

Watcher. Yes!

Beat

Digger. Um… here.

Watcher. What?

Digger. It’s one of the rings.

Watcher. Well, let’s just sell everything together then we can split the money. That way we are for sure that it’s even.

Digger. No. I want you to have this ring.

Beat

Digger. Marry me.

Watcher. You’re disgusting.

Digger. I’ve known you my entire life and I love you. I know it doesn’t make sense. But somehow it does. Please. Marry me.

Watcher. I can’t.

Digger. Please.

Watcher. No. It isn’t right.

Beat

Digger. I hate you.

Digger tackles Watcher and straddles on top of her and begins shoving their newfound riches into her mouth until she chokes and dies.

Digger then drags watcher’s body into the hole and begins to fill it up.

Digger begins to cry and talk to herself.

Digger. Almost there?
Not quite sure.

Yeah…

It’s cold.

Strange.

End

Act. Pro Scene. Logue

2010-01-01T02:18:00.001-08:00

**Most likely a prologue to something that hasn't been written yet. And may never be**

Nothing

Or something.

It speaks…

In the beginning there was nothing. And from that nothing something came. We do not know what this something was… but we can safely assume that it, indeed, was something. For shortly after there was that something that came from the nothing came us. Humans. Which some people consider ‘nothing’.

From the nothing of humans came a world of pleasure. Art. Books. Television. Diapers. Cocaine. Alcohol. Dildos. Felatio. Cunnilingus.

And from these great pleasures came great pain. Heartbreak. Loss. Disease. Rash. Crabs. Pre-mature ejaculation.

We are merely nothing more than the nothing that existed before the something.

But out of this nothing.

We breed hope.

Love.

We create for ourselves a history.

We suffer our whole lives fitting the me into the we.

We long for each other.

We cry when lovers leave.

We cry when parents pass.

But sometimes I fear I think too much.

I’ve fallen in love only once. And I whispered into my lover’s ear, ‘I want to film you… and I have never filmed anything before.’

I wish the heart were a voluntary muscle… so I could stop it.

Act. You deserve better Scene. Are you sure?

2009-07-05T11:46:00.000-07:00

A camp fire.

A piece of firewood walks near it with another piece of firewood who is a realtor.

Realtor. I think this one is fantastic. And perfect for someone living alone.

Wood. By choice. I'm living alone by choice.

Realtor. Pardon?

Wood. I could be with someone... I'm just choosing not to... you know... be with someone.

Realtor. Of course, Dear. The utilities here are absolutely top notch a real-

Wood. What do you mean?

Realtor. Come again?

Wood. You said 'Of course, Dear' as if to say 'That's what they all say."

Realtor. True.

Wood. What's true?

Realtor. That's what they all say.

Wood. Say? I said, 'What's true?' that's a question. If anything you should say, 'That's what they all ask." You are simply confusing the hell out of me and I want to... curl up... or... warp or something. It's just..

(Pause)

Realtor. These windows over here are incredible. They are made from authentic-

Wood. He hates me.

(Pause)

Realtor. Let me show you the basement. Never floods. Swear to God. It dates back to-

Wood. I'm afraid that I didn't really love him. I think I was in love with him once but after a while it just turned into a battle that I had to win that I had to have him. I'm not sure. No. Yes. Maybe. Yes. yes. yes. I love him. I do. I think. Perhaps. No. Yes. I do. I love him.

(Pause)

Realtor. The garage is a real fixer upper. Shelfs as far as the eye can see, and you said you wanted attic space, yes? Well Honey let me-

Wood. One time he-

Realtor. SHUT THE FUCK UP!

(Pause)

Realtor. I've loved someone who didn't love me back too, Okay? Do you see me walking around and shoving it into every single meaningless conversation I have of ever single meaningless day I live? No. You think you are the only one who hurts? You're wrong. Yes, your hurting is unique. Yes, it is more painful than anything you have ever felt before. I don't know how it feels but I know that it is a horrible feeling. You feel ugly. You feel like you're pores seep slime like sap from a tree. And bugs stick to it and so your skin is infested with insects. Then when you finally do muster up the courage to go out in daylight you feel like everyone is looking at you. Looking at you and talking to you but not really talking to you they are talking AT you. Just a pavlovian response to daily casual exchanges, while in their heads they are looking at you and thinking 'What the fuck happened to this poor fellow. He must have fucked up really really really bad. I can smell him from here' Then you run home and you curl up on your couch and you cry. Cry more than you've ever cried before. You cry because you try and think of something that will make it better and all you can think about it him. And by this point if he came walking through that door and said he wanted to be with you. You would get up and spit in his face and say 'FUCK YOU'. If there is a vase handy- throw it at his face. He'll run crying and screaming out the door. If you're lucky he'll fall down the stairs. Fall down the stairs and die. And then you'll lock yourself back in the apartment and cry more and more. Nothing can make you stop. Nothing should make you stop. but congratulations. This is how we grow. This is how we know we are alive. Imagine living and not feeling this. You feel the love that you had for this person which on that one rainy day at the end of April you held him in your bed and thought to yourself, 'This... this will last forever'. And now you feel this. Loathing. Some people never experience this. Everyone is disappointing after you get to know them.

(Pause)

Realtor. So... let me show you the master bedroom. It is absolutely charming.

They walk off.

The audience is encouraged to keep watching until the fire has burned out completely. Think of it as a meditation mat.

Tilt your head back.

Breath.

END

Scene. Unrequited. Act. Fuck this shit.

2009-06-25T22:41:00.000-07:00

bird is sitting on a branch.

bird sits there for a while.

Bird flies up and lands next to it. B Bird is very tired.

Bird. Hi.

bird. Hi.

[Silence]

Bird. Nothing?

bird. What?

Bird. Nothing? Not a hug? Not an 'Oh, I'm so excited to see you?'

bird is silent.

Bird. Okay.

[Moment of pausing silence]

Bird starts to fly away.

bird. Where are you going?

Bird. I am sick of this. I am so fucking sick of this.

bird. What?

Bird. All of this. I am sick of falling in love with people who don't love me back. I am sick of loving people more than they love me. I am tired of putting all my energy into something that feels like a black hole? Where are you!? Where did you go? You certainly aren't here anymore or I would see you, I would feel you. I can't believe- You know you are- It's just... You are something else, My friend. You are.

Bird pauses.

Bird. And I hate myself... but I can't stop loving you. But I need to know you love me too.

bird is silent.

Bird. I hate you. And I hate me.

Bird flies away.

END

Act. Gold? Scene. Silver.

2009-06-16T21:45:00.000-07:00

Introducing a new character:

KNIGHT and his trusty steed.

They are looking for the gold that is on the other side of this rusty rickety bridge.

As KNIGHT begins to ask the horse to cross the bridge he looks down and sees a mound of silver.

KNIGHT. HORSE! Stop. Look at all this silver!

Horse. The gold is over there.

KNIGHT. Yeah, but the silver is right here. And look at that bridge. You can never tell if we will make it over there alive. I think we should stick with the silver. I'm happy with the silver.

Horse. You would be happier with the gold.

(Pause)

Horse. And you know it.

Knight. But the silver is here. And I have it. What if the gold doesn't like me?

Horse. That's a chance you have to take to be happy.

The knight needs to make a decision if he should settle for being kinda happy... or venture out into the unknown to find something that makes him ungodly happy... and there is no for sure if he will find it or not...

TO BE CONTINUED

Act. Stick. Scene. Bugs.

2009-06-16T21:41:00.000-07:00

It's a warms summer evening.

Around 9 O'clock (if you are on daylights savings time).

8 O'clock if you are not.

This is geographically significant.

I am on DST and around 9 is twilight and that is when the earth comes alive and it is a sight to see. At 8, though... it's just hot and muggy and sticky and shitty.

Zoom into a crack in the sidewalk.

Stickbug 1 (SB1) is chilling out.

Stickbug 2 (SB2) walks up.

SB2. Hi.

(No answer)

SB2. Hello?

(Still nothing)

SB2. Sticky bug?

SB1. Right now I am a stick. Not a bug.

SB2. Oh.

SB1. Yeah.

(Pause)

SB2. Sticks can't talk.

SB1. Well, I turned into a stick bug to answer you. Could you please leave so I can go back to being a stick?

(Pause)

SB2. You're so sad.

(Pause)

SB2. Pretending to be a stick when you are really bug. How nice... to not participate in life at all and still get full credit for being alive.

SB2 leaves.

It begins to rain.

SB1 drowns in the crack in the pavement because he is not a bug that can walk away, but a stick.

SB2 cries as he clings safely on a local tree.

END

Act. Famous Women. Scene. And them.

2009-05-29T01:16:00.000-07:00

Lights up.

A catastrophic bang of multitudes beyond comprehension.

Time bends around us as we see light make shapes on the windows.

Tears fall from the ceiling.

Their sadness is all enveloping.

From the mirage appears a young woman.

Her name is Eve.

She steps up to the Mic.

Eve. Oh, the stories you have been and the legends you have told,

begin and end and go around back again into a tiny little fold

Where i find myself curled up; cozy, seemingly waiting to die.

You see, my dear, I know you do not love me.

I cannot help, though, but try.

She dissipates into oblivion.

History purges a woman from her pages.

Delilah appears.

Delilah steps to the Mic.

Delilah. Oh, my Samson. Your hair Your hair Your hair Your hair.

My love for you has been there and there and there and there

Under the pillow where I swear I swear I swear I swear

My love for you.

Which has no, and I promise you this, has no end.

It was with ernest that I stole those scissors from a friend.

And with joy I separated those lovely hairs from your head

Then I realized my love for you was gone.

And I sat there.

Like a stone.

In bed.

END

Act. Anything. Scene. Ask Me Anything.

2009-05-08T23:52:00.000-07:00

Kay and Ess sit on a park bench.

What a lovely day.

The birds are chirping.

The grass is greener than green.

Ess turns to Kay.

Ess. Honey.

Kay. Yes dear?

Ess. You look beautiful in this light.

Kay. Why thank you.

Ess. I want you to ask me anything.

Kay. Pardon?

Ess. You can ask me any question and I will be honest with you. Completely.

Kay. Oh my.

Ess. Yes.

Kay. Double edged sword don't you think?

Ess. Pardon?

Kay. I said, 'Double Edged sword don't you think?'

Ess. I suppose so. Why do you say that?

Kay. Because. You win either way.

Ess. Explain.

Kay. Well... On one hand I have the power of knowing the past... but on the other hand... I know you're past.

Ess. Yes.

SILENCE

Kay. Do you love me?

Ess. Oh, Yes.

Kay. Have you ever been with someone else while we were together.

Ess. Yes.

Kay. Why?

Ess. Not sure.

Kay. We've never had sex.

Ess. I know this.

Kay. Yet you have sex with other people?

Ess. This is true.

Kay. Why?

Ess. Not sure.

Kay. That hurts me.

Ess. I'm sorry.

Kay. I'll have sex with you.

Ess. You're a virgin. I can't have sex with a virgin. I'll feel dirty.

Kay. But I like you. And I trust you. It all makes sense. Everything they told us in school about waiting. Wait until you love someone and trust someone and care for something. I certainly love you, Ess and I CERTAINLY trust you. And I care for you deeply.

Ess. That's very kind of you.

Kay. So why don't you ever want to have sex with me?

Ess. .............

SILENCE.

Kay. Ess?

Ess. Kay?

Kay. .... Do you love me as much as I love you?

Ess. ..................... No.

Kay. ...........

SILENCE

Ess. Well, I best be off.

Kay. Where are you going?

Ess. To bed.

Kay. I'll see you at home, then.

Ess. I'm sleeping in my own bed tonight.

Kay. What?

Ess. Yes, remember the night you accidentally locked me out and I had to go to my place to sleep?

Kay. Yes. Very sorry, by the way.

Ess. Oh, quite alright. I realized how much better I sleep alone.

Kay. You don't like it when I hold you?

Ess. Oh, it's fine every once in a while.

Kay. But Freud says you never sleep better than if you sleep with someone you love.

Ess. Yes.......... Well..................

SILENCE

Ess. So I'll see you tomorrow perhaps?

Kay. Perhaps....

Ess. CHERIO!

Ess leaves.

Kay. I waited and waited and waited for someone I love and trust.... funny thing is.... he doesn't love and trust me.....

Kay stands up on top of the bench. She looks up. She examines the sky. She prays to god outloud.

Kay. God. I want to leave. Please make me into a cloud so that I can be gone forever.

Suddenly Kay begins to float and she floats and she floats and she turns into a cloud.

Every time it rains.

Ess cries.

END

Act. The Numbers. Scene. Game/Shame.

2009-05-06T09:45:00.000-07:00

Lights Up.

And Old Man Dies.

His soul flies to heaven.

He is seating in front of a panel of Angels.

Angels. Hello, Sir. We are going to ask you a series of questions in which we will know wether you are fit enough to get into heaven. How does that sound.

Man nods his head.

Angels. Just answer in the form of digits.

Man nods his head.

Angels. Alright here we go.

Spotlight on man.

Angels. How old were you when you died.

Man. 85.

Angels. How many children did you have?

Man. 4.

Angels. How many wives?

Man. 2.

Angels. How many people did you make love to?

Man. 43.

Angels. How many women?

Man. 38.

Angels. Men?

Man. 5.

Angels. How many people did you kiss?

Man. 29.

Angels. ...

Man nods his head.

Angels. How many people loved you?

Man. 20.

Angels. How many people did you love?

Man. 38.

Angels. How many people did you love love you back.

Man. 5.

Angels. Thank you.

END

Act. Perhaps life is. Scene. A musical.

2009-04-29T22:05:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-04-29T07:23:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-04-25T20:40:00.000-07:00

**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...

2009-04-25T16:23:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-20T09:15:00.000-07:00

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?

2009-04-20T08:57:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-04-20T08:36:00.000-07:00

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.

2009-04-19T19:10:00.001-07:00

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.

2009-04-13T00:40:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-10T04:20:00.001-07:00

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.

2009-04-09T21:35:00.000-07:00

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)

(A single boo is heard)

Edna. Thank you.

(She leaves.)

END

Act. And I wonder Scene. As I wander

2009-04-09T09:36:00.000-07:00

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

2009-04-08T15:11:00.001-07:00

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

Act. Word. Scene. WORDS

2009-03-30T12:30:00.001-07:00

Lights up.

A single spotlight on a beautifully old type writer.

It types.

Type writer. I do not know what to say but I know I am supposed to say something I cannot simply stay stagnant because then I fear that I will cease to exist so I just type and type and type for my life I type and type for my soul I type and I type so that I will not die. Do you think I will die? I think I will die I fear the day that my ribbon will run out I fear the day that people will stop slooking at me I fear the day my stamps of the little beautiful letters will become old and rusted. I love you. I miss you. Com eback to me. Come back little sheba come back. I cannot function without you. Nothing feels right without you. I feel like you complete me. I hate this... this living. I hate this feeling this feeling of nothing. It has been so long since I have felt something. God knows, if I had wrists I would slit them. God knows if I had balls I would cut them of. God knows if I had Guts I would hurl them up and make you look. God knows If I had a backbone what I'd be doing. What would Id be doing/ I wouldn't be here I wouldn't be there. I would be somehweres over theres. Dear God. I forgot how to write. Dear god I forgot how to breath. I am so scared. I amIamamamamamamamamamamamam Help. Please. My stamps. My keys. My ribbon. My life My soul My eyes are becoming like stones and slowly chipping away. And I think the milkman is having an off day.

Act. BLUE Scene BALLS (cont)

2009-03-30T05:22:00.001-07:00

The two spoons continue to spoon.

Spoon 1's alarm goes off and sits up in bed.

Spoon 1. Wow. For once I actually wanna get up. ...huh...

Spoon 1 gets up.

Spoon 2 lays there.

I feel so sorry for Spoon 2.

END

Act. Can't Scene. Fly

2009-03-29T23:27:00.000-07:00

Lights Up.

Two birds are on stage in mid convo

Bird. really?

bird. Don't.

Bird. I mean, I'm not going to tell anyone I just find it very hard to believe.

bird. Please don't make this a bigger deal than it needs to be. Okay? It's not a big deal.

Bird. It's a pretty big deal.

bird. Shut the fuck up. Drop it okay.

Bird. So what do you say when people ask you to go somewhere.

bird. I just say I'll meet them there in a little while.

Bird. And?

bird. and That I'd prefer to walk.

Bird. Because you can't fly.

bird. Nope.

Bird. how does that make you feel?

bird. Sad. I feel so sad right now. I have no idea why. There is a ball in the pit of my stomach that is wrenching my throat down. I feel like I have no control over my future at all. I feel like my skin doesn't want to be apart of my body at all and it's seperated. Like oil and water. It's like there is this thin layer of air between my muscle and my skin. I feel so disconnected from everything and for the life of me I can't cry. It's like... I've never lived before. It's like I've never felt disappointment before. It's like I want to stop living. I do I just want to stop. Or pick up and start somewhere. I made a mistake. I want it to stop. Please make it stop. I can't stop it. My skin. I see it going. So long. Au vior. I'll miss you.

END

Act. BLUE Scene. BALLS

2009-03-24T08:13:00.000-07:00

Spoon 1 and Spoon 2 are lying in bed together.
They are spooning.
Spoon 2 is the little spoon and Spoon 1 is the big spoon.
And they are.

Spoon 1 starts kissing the back of Spoon 2's neck.
Spoon 2 likes it.
Spoon 2 arches their back and lets out a sigh of pleasure.

Spoon 2. MMMhhh....

Spoon 1 then tightens there grip around the body of Spoon 2 and pulls them in tighter.

Spoon 2 responds to this by holding on to Spoon 1's arms.
It's almost as if Spoon 2 is crossing their arms across their chest, but really they are just embracing the arms of Spoon 1.

Spoon 1 cuddles with Spoon 2's neck.
And suddenly.
The timiny is perforect, Spoon 1 begins to think.

Spoon 1 puts their lips up to the ears of Spoon 2 and simply whispers

Spoon 1. I really like you.

There is a silence.
Spoon 2 tightens their grip to Spoon 1.
As if they are holding on for life.

Spoon 2 then says softly.

Spoon 2. Thank you.

Spoon 1 is slightly confused.

Spoon 2. That's very nice of you to say.

Spoon 2 is slightly sad.

Silence.

Spoon 2 is crying.

Act. Someone found love Scene. Now the trick is hanging on

2009-03-09T15:32:00.000-07:00

A bed.

Two people tangled upon each other.

They are in a knot.

It seems as though it could never be untangled.

These two people have been sleeping for 3098 days.

They are so happy being so close to each other.

Person 1 opens their eyes and smiles.

The person slowly untangles themselves.

This takes 5.6 minutes.

Person 1 slowly places person 2's appendages gently on the bed as to not wake them up.

Person 1 kisses person 2 on the forehead and person 2 smiles and rolls on their back.

Person 1 disappears.

948.3 hours go by.

Person 2 slowly wakes up.

Looks around.

They aren't afraid that person 1 is missing... just recognizing the fact that they are no longer together.

Person 2 begins to cry.

Curls up into a ball.

Person 2. Why do I feel so incredibly lonesome? I've heard that your happiness is a direct coalition to your sadness. Perhaps it's the other way. (BeatBeatBeatBeatBeatBeatBeatBeat) The mountain can only be as big as low as the hole is dug.

Person 2 stops and thinks.

Sits up and pulls their knees in and cries.

Person 2. They're not coming back. I can feel it.

Person 2 is alone.

END

Act How to become Scene A Man

2008-12-08T01:21:00.001-08:00

Lights Up

oel. When I was a little boy I would play in my woods. A lot. We had this big woods behind our house and it went on for miles and miles, I swear to god. I would usually play by myself. Pretend I was an explorer or an archaeologist and imagine the roots that stuck up out of the ground… imagine they were dinosaur bones and I was discovering them for the first time. It was fun. I had an older brother who played outside too. He kept to himself. One day though, we went to the local thrift store and found some camouflage outfits. We thought, ‘how cool… we can pretend we’re in the army.’ And we did. And it was a lot of fun. We started playing with each other outside. War. Follow the leader. He was the first person who showed me what a woman looked like naked. Down by the creek he had an old Playboy in a toolbox. He picked out what picture to show me. It was just a woman floating on her back in the water. And I thought ‘how cool, I have an actual older brother.’ One day, though, we were playing and we came across this big sewer pipe. I mean it was huge. And he told me that if I didn’t go in it and touch the back wall… I wasn’t a man.

Lights Down

Act. A grand Lesson from Scene. The Catcher in the Rye

2008-11-26T20:02:00.000-08:00

Holden comes on stage.

He is 209 years old.

He wears the clothes he did as a teenager.

His red hunting cap has seen his entire life too.

There are tears in it.

Moths fly from the holes they have chewed out on the side.

It is very limp.

It's one of those things that looks like it smells.

Like... you can't smell it but you can just tell that it smells.

It probably smells really bad.

He takes of his hat and holds it in front of himself with two hands.

He begins to speak.

Holden. Phony... You're a real prince you know that?... Where do the ducks go? Do you know? When it gets to be winter and the pond freezes over? Where do the ducks go when the pond freezes over? I asked that to the cab driver. I wasn't really asking what happens to the ducks in the winter when the pond freezes over... I was asking... what happens to me in the winter. What happens to me when everything stops. When things don't exist anymore...

Tears well up in his eyes.

He uses his red hunting hat as a tissue.

He wipes his nose.

Then coughs into his hat... you know the way old men cough every once in a while.

He wipes his mouth and looks back up.

Holden. Don't ever tell anybody. Anything. Ever. If you do... You start missing everybody.

We hear a strange noise from off stage.

Holden looks in the direction.

It's a nasally sort of sound.

On stage waddles a duck.

It looks at Holden.

It waddles up and cuddles with Holden's ankle.

Holden smiles.

Holden Cries.

END

Act. I think if I talk Scene. I'll throw up (cunt)

2008-11-26T00:25:00.000-08:00

SO the guy has decided to go to bed right?

becuase he has fucked everything the fuck up.

his best friend is mad at him.

The girl he loves it mad at him.

So to avvoice a hang over he get himself some emergen-C and makes his bed.

he accidentally knocks the drink over

He. FUCK!!!

He makes a new and cleans the mess.

This happens over and over and over and over and over a million times.

He cannot catch a break.

Welcome to my life.

END

Act. I think if I talk Scene. I'll throw up

2008-11-26T00:03:00.000-08:00

\A man sits on stage.

Empty bottles of booze soround him.

In fact.

They build a fortress.

They protect him.

Odd.

He finishes his last bottle of Tequila.

He adds to the piles.

he looks at the audience.

As soon as he decides to say something he throws the fuck up everywhere.

everything is thrown up.

Every meal this man has ever ate is thrown up.

Egg yolks and nasty shit everywhere.

He stops.

He looks at the audience.

He. Why do I fuck everything up?

he throws up again.

He keeps throwing up untill the audience can no longer take it and leaves.

God forbid the man dies.

God forbid I die.

END

Act. Maybe it means Scene. Something else?

2008-11-23T00:23:00.000-08:00

A girl stands on stage.

She has her keys in hand.

It's attached to a lanyard.

She speaks.

Girl. So here are my keys, right? I only have three. Is that sad? I'm not sure. Anyway- I have three. One is for my car and the other two are for my apartment. They both don't get me through my front door though. One is for my door and the other is for the laundry room. You see, I live in this big house that used to be just a house, but then got sectioned into several apartments. I'm number 4. And this one gets me in that door, and this one gets me in the laundry room. Which we all share. It's coin operated. It pisses me of sometimes. I hate going places and asking them to give me change for like... a buck. So when I don't have enough quarters laying around I usually go and get some McDonalds and buy something that costs like 2.10 or 3.o5 so I get a couple quarts back. Thats all I usually need anyway. It pisses me off sometimes though when My hands are full, say I'm bringing some groceries home and I take out my keys and put my door key in and find out its my laundry room key. They are identical- except for the fact the laundry room key has the smallest 'L' engraved on it. It's hard to see. So when I have groceries that I bought for myself and I try to unlock the door to my room apartment where I live by myself and I see that I put my laundry room key in... well... the Other day I looked down and saw the 'L' and was like "fuck!". Then I got to thinking... Maybe the L doesn't mean 'Laundry' maybe it means something else? Lonely. Or maybe Loser. Or maybe it just means Laundry.

I don't know.

END

Act: I deserve this Scene: Because people love me. (cunt)

2008-11-12T17:42:00.000-08:00

We last left our hero sitting in a chair waiting for the entire world to hug him.

Several people came from several places to let this person know that love doesn't come everyday.

That you cannot just conjure up this feeling of being loved whenever you are not.

That sometimes you have to wait.

A very.

Long.

Time.

The scene ended with The french woman smoking her cigarettes.

And then coughing up one of her lungs.

I mean, it just bloodily splattered right in front of our hero.

The french woman extended her arm and flexed her finger to point at the organ, revealing her unshaved arm pits to our hero.

She opened her nicotine ridden lips and exclaimed.

"That is for you."

And everyone left.

So now.. let's join our hero as he sits in his chair with an unused lung right in front of him.

And... SCENE

The hero sits looking.

The lung does nothing.

The hero sits back and stops looking.

The lunch coughs.

The hero sits up in anticipation that the lung had said something to him.

hero. Pardon?

Lung. I wasn't talking to you.

hero. Oh...

The hero slumps back in his chair.

His eyes are looking around the room searching for anyone, but his head is not.

His head remains on the back most part of the chair he is sitting on.

He takes one final glance around the room.

Hoping there is some one there to just say at least one kind word.

That's all he really needed.

For someone to come up to him and say one nice thing.

"Nice hair."

"Nice Shoes."

"Nice Nails."

Any of these would suffice.

(Though he would be undoubtedly confused about the last one. He bit his nails, you see. And they are anything but nice.)

There is no one.

He slumps further down into his chair.

Leans his head back farther than it was earlier.

He looks up at the ceiling.

If no person on earth would share with him, perhaps he can rely on his creator.

His eyes search the ceiling.

For something.

For anything.

Nothing.

His eyes begin to hurt from the long illuminating bulbs that are supposed to imitate day light.

There's 13 of them.

He counted.

The one to the right of the door is burnt out and doesn't work.

He closes his eyes.

But remains awake.

This is his last plea.

Perhaps someone will purge through the door.

Anyone.

Someone from Mexico to say his teeth are crooked.

A young man from Denmark to point and laugh at his bad hair day he's having.

Or even a young nurse with a cooler to collect the once living organ on the floor to take back to the hospital for a transplant. (Not sure how much good it would do, though)

Nothing happens.

Nothing ever happens.

He wonders what he would do if someone did offer him help.

If his creator walked in the room and offered a hug.

Would he take it?

All signs point to yes. But he begins to re-evaluate his life.

Does he like being this way?

Does he enjoy the attention?

He has always been so fucking self less to everyone.

He has dealt with Selfish friends his entire life.

And he doesn't do it so he can later say, 'Hey buck-o. You owe me one.'

Not at all.

He does it because he loves his friends.

He loves them so fucking much.

He would do anything for him.

And the one time when he is desperate enough to ask for help... He sits there alone.

In a room.

With a tobacco infested lung on the floor.

The lung coughs again.

It has been coughing more and more lately.

Our hero smells something sour in the air.

Takes in a deep breath to try and analyze what it is.

He is cut off short.

With his eyes close and body remaining perfectly calm, his brain makes a realization.

The lung and he have been there so lung, waiting for someone- that they have successfully converted all the oxygen that was at there disposal into carbon dioxide.

The hero can't get a breath.

But he doesn't flail about and panic as you expect someone would.

He lays back there and allows the poisonous gas to infect his body.

Though his eyes shut.

He shuts his eyes.

He shuts his mouth.

His fingers turn from a soft clench fist into digits that seemingly hang by a string.

There is no more muscle tension in his body.

His blood has decided to rest at whatever spot they were at.

The lungs take a nap.

The brain takes out it's favorite book.

And hit heart watches T.V.

And our Hero dies.

And the lung on the floor coughs.

END

Act: Dust them off Scene: They're still good

2008-11-10T19:52:00.000-08:00

A walks into a very dark room.

It is A's attic.

A is looking for something.

There is stuff everywhere.

Pilled up the rafters.

Cobwebs and dust blanket it all.

A goes through draws and trunks.

A pushes over mannequins and ladders.

A lifts up carpets.

Finally A sees it.

A. Ah! There!

A bends down and helps up B.

B has been laying there for 3.98 Thousand years.

A dusts B off.

B coughs.

A mouth flies out of B's mouth.

They are both silent.

Then laugh at the funny little moth.

A. Hi.

B. Sup.

A can no longer contain it.

A breaks down and hugs B.

For dear life.

A. I'm sorry.

B. It's okay. I was just chilling out. Do you wana do something?

A. Like what?

B. Not sure. What is it you do now?

A. I'm not sure.

B. You're not sure.

A. It's just that... I mean... I don't remember. All I can think about is all the stuff we used to do.

B. Let's do that then.

A and B both smile.

They are very happy.

A leads the way as they get out of the dusty attic.

It's hard to breath up there.

As B closes the door/ladder thingy on the floor, we look at the attic for a while.

As the night draws on the moon shines through one of those small circular window thingy's that are on the steeples of houses.

As the room is illuminated by the moon we see the bodies of other old friends laying on the ground.

Their faces are not emotionless.

But show little emotion.

They are not Mad.

They are not Happy.

They're waiting.

END

Act. James Dean Scene. Writes a Letter

2008-11-06T12:22:00.000-08:00

---The First Movement: Only the gentle are ever really strong.---

James Dean sits on stage.

By himself.

He is smoking a cigarette.

He is writing a letter.

Barbara Glen walks on.

Barbara. It was as if suddenly you ceased to exist and he couldn't care less. You were an annoyance. And it was something, when he did it to me, that I just couldn't cope with. He wasn't a very social human being, or a nice person to a lot of people. Jimmy was not good at reaching out, he was so frightened of letting people in. He's show you some of himself, you'd really share something, and then you'd feel him backing off. He sensed his isolation, though he often caused it.

Paul Newman walks on stage.

Paul Newman. Hey Jimmy. What you rebelling against today?

James Dean. What you got for me, Paul Newman?

Jonathan Gilmore walks on stage.

Jonathan Gilmore. He asked me a great deal about myself. But he gave little in return- and then he seemed to regret sharing anything at all, as if to share was to give part of himself away. His intense interest in gay sex seemed as intense as his passion for the heroics of bullfighting or sculpture. He wanted to fool around, to do the forbidden thing, to be artsy, a renegade and an outside. But as for being a hustler or a whore -well, I don't know anyone who had an indication that was true. He never had to hustle, and he certainly was not some promiscuous madman.

James Dean looks up.

James Dean. Tell 'em about the night we had sex.

Jonathan Gilmore. Jimmy-

James Dean. Tell 'em! Hahaha

Jonathan Gilmore. Frankly... It just didn't work. He liked to do the weirdest thing.

James Dean. Tell 'em about Greenwich Village. That one time we went there. Hahaha

Jonathan Gilmore. Jimmy likes to go to Greenwich Village together. I would be dressed up as a woman. Very convincing, I might add. And he would go as my date. We would look like just an ordinary couple. Jimmy looked like the strange one. Everyone whispered and asked why is that handsome man with such an awkward, tall, lanky woman. We would have a few drinks in a bar and we would kiss and then pull the wig off my head and be completely shocked I was a man. We would stage a fight and then get drunkenly kicked out of the bar.

James Dean. Hahaha. It was fun.

Jonathan Gilmore. You were fun.

James Dean reads the letter he wrote.

James Dean. Got a new pair of shoes, honey. Shit! I'm so proud of them. Got a pair of pants, too. My uncle sent me 30 bucks and besides I deserved it. Made me feel good just to go in and get something. I would like to see you very much. I miss you too. Didn't figure on that too strong. But you just can't tell always, I guess. I'm getting sleepy. You write me real soon. You hear? Then I'll write again.

Barbara Glen. I wrote back. So did he.

James Dean. I never suspected on could know as few nice people as I know. My own damn fault. Everything is not just illusion. You are my proof. You have gone to Israel but you have not. I am very lonely for you. I am alone. THoughts are sweet, then wicked, then perverse, then penitent, then sweet. The moon is not blue. It hangs in the sky no more.

James Dean takes a swig of Whiskey.

He is almost to the bottom.

Almost.

James Dean. Please forgive me for such a sloppy letter, I'm a little drunk, drink quite a bit lately. You see, I don't know what's going on any more than you do. Remarkable lot, human beings. I care too.

Another swig.

James Dean. In antiphonal azure swing, soulds drone their unfinished melody... When did we live and when did we not? In my drunken stupod I said a gem. I must repeat it to you loved one. Let's see... "Great actors are often pretentious lives. THe pretentious actor, a great liver." (Don't get a headache over it.) God damnit!! I miss you... You're terribly missing. Come back. Maybe I can come up and see you. You think you need understanding? Who do you think you are? I could use a little myself. You're probably running around up there with all those handsome guys. When I get my boat, you'll be sorry.

Another swig.

Hope you're okay up there. Working pretty hard I guess. More than you can say for us poor thespians back here in the city. Got to move out of this crappy old apartment. Can't get along with nobody I guess. Make you feel good when you're not wanted.

James Dean stands up and smashed his bottle on the floor.

(This is the end of the first movement)

--The Second Movement: A Scene from Jimmy's Broadway debut show, " The Immoralist"

Marcelline is played by Barbara Glenn.

Michel is played by both Paul Newman and Jonathan Gilmore. They are tied at the waste with an obese man's belt.

MARCELLINE: Tell me how to accept it or to ignore it- to say to myself, this is only a fraction of him... How would we live together?

MICHEL: There are many kinds of marriages, and people sacrifice many things to hold on to them... We must promise nothing- except to like each other as we are.

MARCELLINE: You want me to accept all of you.

MICHEL: That's what our child will want.

MARCELLINE: I can do it for him.

MICHEL: Can you? Can I? And what will happen to him if we don't?

MARCELLINE: We must learn, Michel. A good way will be to practice on each other.

They stand there contemplating what to do.

Forever.

(This is the end of the second movement)

---The Third Movement: Another scene from the immoralist---

Bachir is played by James Dean.

Michel is still played by Paul and Jonathan under the same conditions.

BACHIR. Soon the warm season will come and I can spend the nights in the orchards.

MICHEL. The orchards?

BACHIR. Yes, sir- the trees are filled with fruits; dates, figs, oranges, everything grows in the orchards. Many boys tend the crops, the earts, the goats. They are very beautiful, those places.

MICHEL. Where are they?

BACHIR. Which one, sir?

MICHEL. I don't know- the one you seem so poetic about.

BACHIR. They are all out there beyond those walls. It is always green and cool and they live like a thousand years ago.

MICHEL. And do whole families live there?

BACHIR. There are no families. Only men and boys Beautiful men. They live without women.

MICHEL. Oh. That is not very interesting.

BACHIR. You asked me, sir.

MICHEL. You misunderstood me! And you eat disgustingly, Bachir!

BACHIR. Yes, sir. I think so. I am very healthy and disgusting.

James Dean breaks from the scene.

James Dean. Kiss me.

Jonathan Gilmore. What?

James Dean. Kiss me.

Paul Newman. I didn't hear that.

Jonathan Gilmore. Okay.

They kiss.

(This is the end of the Third Movement)

---The Fourth Movement: A bottomless well- no love was enough---

James Dean is back with another whiskey.

He is writing another letter.

James Dean. I don't like people here. I like it home in New York. and I liked you and I want to see you. Must I always be miserable? I try so hard to make people reject me. Why? I don't want to write this letter. I would be better to remain silent. Wow! I am fucked up!... I DONT KNOW WHERE I AM.

Takes a swig

James Dean. Rented a car for 2 weeks it cost me 138 bucks. I WANT TO DIE... I HAVEN'T BEEN TO BED WITH NOBODY and won't until after the picture and I am home safe in NYC. Sounds unbelievable but its the trust I swear. So hold everything. Stop breathing, Stop the town-- all of NYV until (should have trumpets there) James Dean returns.

Takes another swig

James Dean. Am I fucked up! I got no motorcycle, I got no girl. HONEY- shit, writing in capitals doesn't seem to help either. Haven't found a place to live yet, still living with my folks. HONEY. Kazan sent me out here to get a tan, haben't seen the sun yet (Fog & Smog). He wanted me healthy looking. I look like a prune. Don't run away from home at too early an age or you'll half to take vitamins the rest of your life. Wish you cooked. I'll be home soon.

Another swig.

James Dean. Write me please. I am sad most of the time. Awful lonely too isn't it. I hope you're dying, Because I am.

James Dean stands up and smashed the bottle on the floor.

(This is the end of the fourth movement)

--The Fifth movement: Razor Blade Bed---

Marlon Brando comes on stage.

Marlon Brando. A very tough guy- James Dean was. They say he slept on razor blades and put cigarettes out on his hand. He needed people to love him, never mind that he didn't love them in return. He was like a bottomless well. He latched on to people he liked, took what he needed and was quick to drop them before they might drop him. A bottomless well. No love was enough.

(This is the end of the fifth and final movement.

Act: These Days Have Clearly Scene: Gone to the Dogs

2008-11-06T12:13:00.000-08:00

A Girl sits on stage under a Tree.

She is drinking a coffee.

She takes a swig.

Girl. GOD DAMNET! This coffee tastes like ass.

The Tree begins to speak.

The Girl pays no attention.

Tree. I've never had much luck with Dogs. DOn't get me wrong. Please. I love Dogs. They're probably my favorite animal. Growing up I always wanted to be a dog walker. Ha. Do they still have those? Did they ever have those? Dog walkers? I feel like it's clumped in with other things. Like if you're a nanny then you walk the dogs also, or you're a dog sitter and you play with the Dogs AND walk them. I just wanted to walk them. I just wanted to be a Dog Walker.

Girl. I mean. It taste like piss. I should complain or something.

She takes another swig.

Girl. FUCK! This is awful!

Tree. I had a dog growing up. We named her Carolina. Not sure why. I had her as far back as I could remember. She was a fantastic Dog. Growing up with her, I thought of her so much more than a dog. Not that I thought her to be a human. But it was like she surpassed being a dog. I could talk to her about anything. She saved my life once.

Girl. I think they just mix their shit in with their coffee. I bet that's it. And then over price this garbage. God damn fucking capitalist cunts. Every last one of 'em.

She takes another swig.

She gags.

Tree. I was rowing a boat in my front yard and this huge Mastiff who was always fenced in, jumped my neighbors fence and started running to me. This Bastard was like 91856 feet tall. And here comes Carolina and she grits her teeth and growls. You know, the way dogs do.

The Tree tries to mimic this.

Tree. GGGRRRRR---- Well. I can't do it but you get the idea. And the huge neighbors dog just drops dead. I'm telling you it just died right there in the front lawn. Carolina didn't have to touch him he just collapsed. As a reward, Carolina and me rowed the boat to Denmark then Russie then Singapore then Cambodia then Brazil then the Grand Canyon. That was her favorite. It was such a fun day. I love that damn dog.

Girl. I'm going to vomit. Simply upheave. I cannot drink anymore of this.

A Boy comes on stage.

Boy. Hey, Honey. Ready to go?

Girl. BOY! I'm so glad you are here, try this coffee. It's sickening. We have to take it back and get my money returned to me.

The Girl hands the coffee to the Boy.

The Boy tries to drink it.

Boy. It's empty. Did you drink it all?

Tree. I miss that fucking Dog.

END

Act: I heard she has Scene: Some Pretty big Balls

2008-11-05T22:51:00.000-08:00

Lights up.

On Stage is the glorious Joan of Arc in all of her glorious glory.

She is clad in armor.

She has her fists on her hips.

She could easily be mistaken for a man.

She is very powerful

A narrator comes on stage.

He simply stands there.

Joan of Arc. I believe you have a line, good sir.

Narrator. I do not.

Joan of Arc. I am almost positive you say something. For I saw nothing.

Narrator. Bitch. If I'm supposed to talk I'll talk. But I'm not supposed to talk so I'm not going to. So why don't you keep your mouth and your pussy shut and we'll both be happy. Huh?

Joan of Arc. Well I never. WHATS GOING ON?

We hear the playwrights voice as if he is in the back on the light board talking on a microphone.

Playwright. Someone call me?

Joan of Arc. Yeah. I did!

Playwright. Sup?

Joan of Arc. This man does not know his lines!

Playwright. Yeah?

Joan of Arc. I want him replaced. RIGHT NOW!

Playwright. Um... I write the plays. I don't cast them or direct them.

Joan of Arc. Well can you direct me to someone who can help me with this problem?

Playwright. Sure, bro. can you hold?

Joan of Arc. Yes I'll hold.

Click.

We hear elevator music.

Narrator. Ah! Shit, dawg. I love this tune. Da duos Dpo Dow Dpw Dpg Dpso Dppd. Why don't you sing along?

Joan of Arc. Shut up.

Click.

Playwright. Yo. Still there?

Joan of Arc. Yes. I am present.

Playwright. Okay. Here's the deal. You are not a production yet. You are still a play.

Joan of Arc. What does that mean?

Playwright. That means you are just words on a computer screen that people are going to read. Do all this... isn't actually happening. Well... It's happening but its not.

Joan of Arc. I beg your pardon?

Playwright. Uh. Shit. Ok Ok Ok Ok. It's like the moment between you think about opening the door and you actually open the door. Like. It's there. But. It's not there. Sort of. Make sense?

Joan of Arc. So I'm just instructions?

Playwright. YEAH!! THATS IT!!! Shit. You're a smart bitch.

Joan of Arc. I'm just instructions that tell what the actress who will play me to do?

Playwright. Bingo.

Joan of Arc. So I'm nothing?

Playwright. You are kind of something.

Joan of Arc. A collection of Letters that were coincidentally arranged.

Playwright. Oh. Man. Don't be such a downer. All of my other shows I've been writting have been sorta heavy. I wanted to have a light fun show.

Joan of Arc. You're the playwright. Do what you wish.

Playwright. Um. Okay... How about...

Suddenly the narrator runs off stage.

Moment.

He runs back on stage and throws a pie in Joan's face.

Playwright. HAHAHAHHAHA OH SHIT!!! HAHAHAH THAT WAS GREAT!! I JUST PIED JOAN OF ARC!!! I JUST FUCKING PIED JOAN OF FUCKING ARC!!! OH GOD DAMN! THAT WAS GREAT!!! That was great. Thanks, bro.

Narrator. I love pie-ing me a white chick.

Playwright. Gross.

Joan of Arc. Can you make me do something?

Playwright. Like what?

Joan of Arc. You know what?

Playwright. 'scuse me?

Joan of Arc. You had the idea of how you were going to end this one before you even started it.

Playwright. True.

Joan of Arc. Why did you decide to waste me as a character?

Playwright. A girl asked me to write a play about you. I thought it would be fun to make you do dumb things.

Joan of Arc. Oh.

Playwright. And I didn't waste you? Okay? So stop your complaining. I can use you later if I want. It's not like anyone is actually going to put on these shit shows.

Suddenly, in the middle of the playwrights ranting, Joan of Arc begins doing jumping jacks.

Playwright. What are you doing?

Joan of Arc. Oh, shut the fuck up! This is what you wanted me to do. You thought that'd it be so funny if you asked Joan of Arc to do jumping jacks and never ask her to stop. And then have her beg and plead with the narrator to make her stop or kill her or perhaps burn her at the stake! Well, fuck you. I am going to do these jumping jacks until I die. I'm going to do these jumping jacks until you die. I'm going to do these jumping jacks. For ever.

She continues.

Forever.

END

Act: And Now..... Scene: A VAUDEVILLE!

2008-11-05T22:26:00.000-08:00

We hear a drum roll of anticipation.

The anticipation is GREAT.

For this is the very very very very very first theatrical production to ever be performed in the ENTIRE world.

History is being made today.

This probably is taking place in Greece or Africa or Mesopatamia.

The Drum roll continues.

The audience cannot contain itself.

There is whispering.

Audience. I'm so excited.

Audience. I hear this changes your life.

Audience. And we are hear to see it!! can you believe it?!

Audience. Remember where you are today. In this great moment in our history.

Audience. EVE! ADAM! I SAVED YOU A SPOT!

Audience. I hope they start soon.

Audience. I have to piss.

Audience. Sit down, they're lowering the lights!!

The Audience waits for the drum to crack.

IT DOES.

Suddenly the curtains fall down.

From stage right comes 49 women balancing on a small child's tricycle.

They do this with such ease.

They are enjoying themselves.

From stage left comes a bear doing tumbles and dives and everything you would expect a small chinese gymnast who lied about her age to get into the olympics would do.

From Up stage comes the bearded woman.

She has a royal gesture to her.

She has a 5 foot beard.

She takes out a pair of scissors and cuts it violently.

She presents her bare face to the audience.

Suddenly, the beard grows back.

She continues this routine forever.

Down from the ceiling they lower bars for the trap-ease artist.

They do their thang.

A large man comes out juggling plates.

After he has done this for an hour he throws them up into the air and as they come down catch them in his mouth and eats them.

They all go on for quite some time.

Then they are finished.

They strike their last pose.

The audience claps for 5.5 days.

The performers stand up and look out at them.

The Audience. What?

Performers. It's your turn.

The Audience. Excuse us?

Performers. What? You didn't think you were going to see that for free did you?

The Audience. We thought it was a gift?

Performers. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHA.

The Audience. Don't you all want to do this for us?

Performers. We worked hard on this show.

The Audience. And it was great! Fantastic! The first theatrical experience ever and we all got to experience it together. What a wonderful thing!

Performers. FUCK YOU!

The Audience. What do you want?

Performers. Shit. I don't know.

The Audience. Then don't get mad at us.

Audience Member. Hey! I found a quarter on the floor. My luck is great today.

Bearded Lady. GIVE IT!

Audience Member. What?

Bearded Lady. Give me the quarter, you CUNT!

Audience Member. Fine, It's just a quarter.

Bear. I want something!

Trap Ease. Us too!!

Performers. We want money!

Another Audience Member. I have a dollar five, but I need that for parking.

Plate Man. No you don't.

The Plate man goes and takes the money from the Audience member and mumbles: 'Fuck you' as he walks away.

Little by little the Audience slowly fesses up to the money that they have.

Ten spot here.

Couple bucks there.

Coin purse in row G.

By the time they figure everything out the Performers sit on stage and count their money.

Bearded Lady. How much you got?

Bear. 30.87. You?

Bearded LAdy. 28.50

Tri Cycle Woman. We all only got 6.49.

The Performers look out at the Audience.

The Performers. Next time you want to see this you gots to pay 38.50 at the door! YA GOT THAT! ART DOESNT GROW ON TREES YOU KNOW!

The Audience. We have to pay to see this?

The Performers. Yeah! You got a problem with that?

The Audience. Yes. We do.

The Performers. WhAA?S!?!?!

The Audience. How shitty of an artist. You have dumbed down the message that was in your performance so much. I sat here thinking 'God Damnet these people want to show me their art. They want to do this for me. They put this all together by themselves with TRUE LOVE. With FIRST LOVE. They don't want anything out of this. They just want to share. Contribute. Donate to the Human Condition. Make my day a little easier and unload the souls a bit while their at it.' Buying Tickets to see art? What an absurd Idea? It'll never catch on. Never. Just you watch.

The Audience leaves in a ceremonial procession.

Mourning the loss of a great art.

***I'm sorry. I titled this piece wrong.

It should be-

Act: The Theatre Died Scene: The Same Day It Was Born

Thank you.

END

Act: And so it is Scene: Just like you said it would be

2008-11-05T18:56:00.001-08:00

A man walks on stage wearing a hat.

He gets to the center of the stage.

Makes a three quarter turn to his right.

Lifts up his left elbow.

Tilts his head down so his chin touches his chest.

He begins to hum on a very low note.

Man. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.....

He opens his eyes

Then closes them

Then opens them again

He continues this in a rapid motion

He twirls around his foot while he begins to hop.

END

Act The Tour Scene De’Shit

2008-11-05T16:17:00.001-08:00

Three toilets are present on stage.

A velvet rope blocks them off.

On stage walks a group of tourists with cameras and all.

A tour guide guides them.

Tour Guide. Walk this way. Watch your step please. This way. Annnnddd. We’re stopping. Okay. This is the part of the tour that we like to call Tour De’ Shit.

Tourist. AAAAAAHHHHHHH OOOOHHHHH

Tour Guide. You will notice besides me there are three shitters. They belong to three very important people. The first belonged to abarham Lincoln. The second belong to Stalin. And the third belonged to Kelly Lusk. You may not know third, but he is an up and coming writer who sometimes writes some real bang up stuff and some real shit. No pun intended.

Tourists. AHAHAHHAHAAH HOHOHOHOHOH HAHAHAHAAH

Tour Guide. You know the age old saying ‘You can really tell a lot about a person by looking in their fridge? Well, it really is the shitter. But since in the 20^th century we were so concerned about the young children we could not say that. Now in the 21^st century we just say ‘fuck em’

Tourists. AHHAHAHAAH OHOHOOOOHO AHAHAHAHH

Tour Guide. Now lets look under the first lid.

The Tour Guide lifts the lid to the first toilet.

Tour Guide. If you will all take a look inside you will see clippings of his hair. It was a common fact that Abraham Lincoln would stand over the toilet for hours on end clipping the hair off of his beard. ONE. BY. ONE.

Tourist. AAAHHH OHHHHHHHH WWWWOOOOOWWWW

Tour Guide. The next toilet is somewhat special. And… there is actually a funny story behind this. Once when Joseph Stalin was to give a speech he was nervous about he would sometimes go and pretend he had diarrhea and sit on the toilet. And they would come and knock on his door and say ‘Joseph, quit your stalin!’

Tourist. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHA

Tour Guide. I love that joke. Ok. Let’s look inside. Now, as you can see here there are tiny words. This one says ‘hope’ while this one says ‘enslavement’.

Suddenly a bird flies out of the toilet.

Tour Guide. Oh look. It’s a woodpecker! How nice.

The tourist grab their cameras and begin taking pictures.

Tourist. OOOHHHHH AAAAAAHHHHHHH

Tour Guide. Now, onto the last and final Toilet. This one belongs to Critically acclaimed lover fighter hater shitter all around general ererere. He is not yet famous. He probably won’t be. Now. Lets take a look inside. Mhhh….

Tourists. MMMMMHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH>…..

Tour Guide. Inside this toilet you will see… A wade of gum. Some Cigarette butts. And piss.

Tourists. ……………………

Tour Guide. As I said you can tell a lot about a person from looking at their toilet… so go ahead and make your own assumptions.

Tourists. ………………………………..

Tour Guide. Have you made them?

Tourists. YES

Tour Guide. Lets continue the tour.

END

Act A button. Scene A BUTTON!

2008-11-04T22:32:00.000-08:00

A girl is on stage on all fours.

She is panting like a dog.

Extremely fixated at one spot right below her nose.

Her hair covers her face but we can still hear her.

Girl. There a button a button a button. I was pretending to be a dog. I was like this hmph hmph hurp hurp hurp (Repeat 3x). Then I looked down and I was like OMGH theres a button on the floor. But that was now and this was then. But it wasn’t a button. And that’s why I said it all before cause this was an innermonologue so there really wasn’t an OMG theres a button on the floor.

The girl continues panting.

Did I mention she is fucking high as a fucking kite?

END

Act Why do I feel Scene This way?

2008-11-04T22:28:00.001-08:00

A man comes on stage.

He acts as though his shirt is too tight.

It isn’t.

He walks as if his thighs are chafing.

They’re not.

He Starts scratching his elbows.

Scratching his eyebrows.

Man. GOD!

The man is in such a funk.

END

Act And then they Scene … You know…

2008-11-04T22:27:00.001-08:00

A man is laying on his back.

He is completely naked.

A woman stands in the distance.

She is the most beautiful women in the entire world.

There was a contest to find her.

They examined her body through and through.

Her breasts are perfect.

Her vagina is gorgeous.

Her face is flawless.

She stands there looking amazing.

The man is masturbating.

She does not move.

He gets close to cumming.

Man. I’m almost there. I’m almost there!

Woman. How does it feel?

Man. Amazing. Like a million tiny you’s are in my lungs kissing my organs.

Woman. That’s nice.

Man. I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum! AH!!

The man cums.

There is a moment of nirvana as the man lays with it all sprawled on his belly.

It is across his chest and even fills up his belly button.

Woman. We made it together.

Man. Yes.

Woman. We finally made it together.

Man. Never leave me.

Woman. I won’t.

Man. I’m never going to leave you. Never ever.

The man is still in paradise.

He cannot get the smile off of his face.

It feels so good.

He is finally where he wants to be.

For a single moment in time there is no violence in the world.

Everyone loves each other.

For the first time in this man’s life.

Everything is as it should be.

Everything is perfect.

It feels so good.

END

Act Tell me all you know about Scene Marie Antionette.

2008-11-04T22:26:00.000-08:00

A woman in a pink dress appears on stage.

She takes a bucket of green paint.

Drinks the entire bucket.

I mean every last drop.

She licks the sides.

Sticks her fingers in there to get every

Last

Drop

She then eats the aluminum can.

Then she pulls the hair out of her head.

Then rips her eyelashes off.

She gets a pair of pliers and rips out her finger nails.

She is sculpting the face of someone she loves.

END

Act I can’ believe Scene I’m keeping up with this motif PART II

2008-11-04T22:25:00.002-08:00

I. I think I figured it out. I’ve been really upset lately because I’ve been thinking ‘No one loves me.’ And when I say love me I don’t mean like love me. I mean LOVE me. Someone who wants to fuck until the cows cum home. Someone who just wants to stay in bed all fucking day and touch each other. Someone who likes the taste of my mouth over theirs. It’s not that no one loves me. It’s that I don’t love anybody. I don’t love anybody. I don’t love anybody. I don’t love anybody. Anybody.

END

Act Drop Some Scene Mushrooms

2008-11-04T22:25:00.001-08:00

A large cigar comes on stage an unwraps itself.

It removes all the tobacco.

A hustler comes on stage followed by a field of weed.

He puts it all in the cigar.

Lights it up.

Offers it to the audience.

Hustler. Have you seen the news lately? You’re gona need this, man.

END

Act Can’t find Scene Nobody.

2008-11-04T22:24:00.003-08:00

I am on stage.

He comes on stage.

He. Whats up.

I. I’m waiting.

He. You do a lot of that.

I. Yeah Well… I’m pretty good at it.

(There is a LOOOONG Silence. It’s as if they forgot a line)

He. Don’t you have a line?

I. I don’t know.

He. Is he gone?

I. Yeah... He didn’t finish us.

He. What do we do?

(They sit for 29 hours)

I. I hate him.

END

Act And so it Goes Scene. Again

2008-11-04T22:24:00.001-08:00

He is on stage sleeping with his head on a pillow.

The second pillow walks on stage.

Second Pillow. Hey. Hey! HEY!!

He. What?

Second Pillow. What’s the fucking deal?

He. What are you talking about?

Second Pillow. You always sleep alone.

He. Yeah.

Second Pillow. Yeah? That’s all you got to say for yourself is ‘yeah’?

He. Yeah.

Second Pillow. Pathetic.

END

And Act of Desperation A Scene of Denial

2008-11-04T22:23:00.001-08:00

Man stands in the middle.

Person with a stopwatch is to the side.

Person with a stopwatch. GO!

Man. AHGHKDFHASFJAIOSDFJASJDKF KLFJSDFKLJ AL

Person with a stopwatch. COME ON!!

Man. ASDFJALSJDFKJSKFJKMEMEMEMEMEKAJDSLFKJADSF

Person with a stopwatch. ALMOST!! TWO MORE SECONDS!!

Man. LKSDJFLKASJDFLKAJAHHHHH

Person with a stopwatch. TIME!!!

Man. OH GOD!

The man collapses.

She comes in.

She. What is this man doing?

Person with a stopwatch. He set a record. Ten seconds! Can you believe it?! Ten seconds.

She. Ten seconds doing what?

Man is still on the floor.

Man. Being myself.

END

Act and Scene of Attraction.

2008-11-04T22:22:00.002-08:00

1. Hi.

2. Oh… I’m not attracted to you.

1. Oh.

2. Yeah.

1. Why?

2. You’re fat.

…

2 Leaves.

1. I’m not hungry anymore.

A century passes and 1 has not eaten anything.

1. Still not hungry. Funny how that works.

Act Jesus Scene God

2008-11-04T22:22:00.001-08:00

Him. Do you ever hate God sometimes?

Her. Yeah.

Pause

Her. Do you think he ever hates us?

Him. Yes.

END

Act I can’ believe Scene I’m keeping up with this motif

2008-11-04T22:21:00.002-08:00

I. I’ve never loved anyone before. I though I’ve loved people. But I think I liked the IDEA of them rather then them. It’s nice to be with someone. It’s nice not to be alone. Why do I find myself pulled to people I know it won’t work out with. Perhaps so when I get hurt I can blame it on myself.

END

Act Really? Scene REALLY? -Or- Waiting for Godot can suck my dick.

2008-11-04T22:21:00.001-08:00

He sits on stage all by himself.

Someone comes up.

Someone. Are you?

He. Waiting for someone. I’m waiting for someone.

Someone. Oh… how long have you been waiting?

He. That’s not important.

Someone. Seems to me that it’s very important.

He. I’ve been waiting… a while…

Pause between them.

He. I’ve been waiting for a long time.

Someone. Do you think they’ll come?

He. I don’t know anymore.

Someone. I’m so sorry.

He. Me too.

Someone. Someone out there loves you.

He. Maybe.

END

Act Long Scene Road.

2008-11-04T22:20:00.002-08:00

That one. See that road?

This one. Yeah.

That one. They say it goes on for miles and miles.

This one. How many?

That one. Many?

This. Wow.

This one starts walking down the road.

That one. Where are you going?

This one. Down the road. Where are you going?

That one. No where. I’m staying here.

This one. Why?

That one. I don’t know what’s down there.

…

This one. Do you know what’s here?

…

That one. No.

END

Act Not Scene Again

2008-11-04T22:20:00.001-08:00

He sits on stage. He comes up to him.

He. Ha.

He. You don’t deserve it, you know that right?

He. Who cares? I got it.

He. Because you’re fucking her. You got it because you’re fucking her.

He. To each his own.

He pulls out again and shoots he.

He. Fuck you in the ground with a metal stake. I hope you die.

END

Act small Scene Tallies

2008-11-04T22:18:00.002-08:00

A playwright stands on stage and tries to build a house of cards.

Someone walks in.

Someone. That house would be sturdier if you had bricks.

Playwright. Can you buy bricks?

Someone. Sure. Hardware store.

Playwright. I like it this way.

END

Act They’re actually really Scene Good for you

2008-11-04T22:18:00.001-08:00

I sit on stage and smoke 1947685789 packs of cigarettes.

A doctor comes on stage.

He is decked out as if he is about to go to the beach.

Doctor. You’re going to get cancer.

I. Probably. Where you off to?

Doctor. The beach.

I. Have fun.

The doctor goes and spends a day at the beach with his family.

I smoke another 23987284756023 packs of cigarettes.

The doctor comes back.

Doctor. I have skin cancer.

I. I have a cold.

END

Act 1 I Deserve this because Scene People love me (Cont/Cunt)

2008-11-04T22:17:00.002-08:00

Me sits on stage.

Me. I’m ready for love.

Someone from India walks on stage and says in their native tongue: “You don’t get love everyday. It comes and goes.

A woman from Paris says in French: “How many people do you love?”

Me. I can’t count.

The same woman: “We all waited in line to hug you… when was the last time you waited in line to hug someone?”

Me. Never

The same woman smokes 9 packs of cigarettes and then coughs up a lung.

She points to it.

The same woman. That’s for you.

Me. I don’t want that… I want—

END

Act So this is love? Scene Mhmhmhmhmhhh

2008-11-04T22:17:00.001-08:00

Man stands on stage.

Very plain.

Someone comes on.

Someone. Hi.

Man. Hi.

Someone. Are you in love with me?

Man. I think about you constantly.

Someone. Are you in love with me?

Man. I think about you when I wake up.

Someone. Are you in love with me?

Man. Are you in love with me?

Someone. It depends what your answer is.

(What?)

Someone. So are you in love with me?

Man. Yes.

Someone. Then no.

Someone leaves.

Man. I love you so much….

END

Act Maybe this time? Scene undecided

2008-11-04T22:16:00.001-08:00

Someone stands on stage.

A fishing line comes down from heaven with ‘X’ (see foot note) attached to it.

Someone tries as hard as they can to get it.

It always moves out of their reach.

Finally ‘X’ lands on the floor, but someone is too tired.

Someone looks at it. reaches in his pocket for a knife and stabs ‘X’

Someone. Fuck you.

Someone leaves.

**X= Anything someone desires.

END

Act I deserve this Scene Because people love me

2008-11-04T22:15:00.002-08:00

Everyone in the entire world comes up one by one and give Me a hug.

There is a very long line to hug Me.

People want to hug Me.

Once everyone is done.

Me. Wow… I deserve love… don’t I?

End

Act of love Scene of confession.

2008-11-04T22:15:00.001-08:00

Beethoven comes on stage where a piano sits and starts playing beautiful.

He is horrified by what he hears.

Tries again.

Though it sounds gorgeous it is awful to him.

He takes a crow bar out from his ass and then plucks every single mother fucking key off of the piano and in the end there is a pile of keys on the floor.

…I’m not sure what happens next… We’ll come back to this.

Act 3984.398 Scene A.s.df.2.34

2008-11-04T22:14:00.000-08:00

Man in a green jacket comes on stage. Tears apart floor boards and inside the floor is all the supplies he needs to build a duplex. He begins building. He builds. Builds. Builds. Builds. Builds. Builds. Builds. Builds. He stops to eat a Norman Rockwell painting. Builds some more and more and more and moremoremroemroemroemroemreormeroemroem.

It’s done.

He looks at it.

Reaches into his pocket pulls out a match.

Strikes it.

Throws it on the house.

It burns the ground.

Man in green jacket. Huh… So it’s true what the say.

He leaves

**The entire process of this should take a lifetime. You’re not finished until someone dies in the audience… or until someone gives birth. Don’t let anyone leave. They have to see it all. They know what they signed up for. Make them work!

END

Play: Again Act: Who Knows Scene: Who cares.

2008-11-04T22:12:00.000-08:00

I. No one deserved any of it. I deserved it all.

Someone else. You think you deserve everything.

I. Maybe I do deserve everything.

Someone else. Everyone who thinks they deserve everything deserve nothing.

(Someone else leaves)

I. I think I deserve something.

(God comes on stage)

God. You don’t.

God then tears the clothes off of I and then recites the entire bible into their eye balls.)

END

Act: Suck my Scene: Cock

2008-11-04T22:11:00.001-08:00

Lauren. What’s the problem?

Me. I didn’t get cast.

Lauren. So… What’s the problem?

Me. I didn’t get cast

Lauren then beats Me to a fucking bloody pulp till I’m no longer recognized.

Lauren. What’s the problem.

Me. I’m about to die.

Lauren. That’s a problem. Not getting cast isn’t a fucking problem. Get the fuck over yourself. You wana do theatre yeah? Do it your fucking self!!! What do you think everyone else did.

Me. I wanted to be in it really bad though.

Lauren beats Me some more.

Lauren. What’s the problem?

Me. I’m about to die.

Lauren. THAT’S a problem.

Lauren walks off stage and Me is left to die. Because that’s a problem.

END

Act J Scene Fortinbras

2008-11-04T22:09:00.000-08:00

Playwright sits on a thrown of manuscripts. Someone enters.

Someone. That’ll never hold.

Playwright. Why not?

Someone. There just beginnings.

Playwright. Come again.

Someone. You have started so many.

Playwright. I know.

Someone. So many great beginnings.

Playwright. I know.

Someone. So many that could be amazing stories.

Playwright. I know.

Someone. Why don’t you finish any of them?

(Beat)

Someone decides to leave.

Playwright. I know.

END

Act 2 Scene Ii

2008-11-04T22:05:00.000-08:00

Man. Hmph.

Woman. What?

Man. They didn’t like it.

Woman. It’s okay. It’s good. It’s just the wrong kind of audience.

Man. Is there a wrong kind of audience?

Woman. Sure… it’s like putting on a strip show for grandmothers.

Man. Why would you do that?

Woman. I don’t know… people do stupid stuff.

Man. …

Woman. That’s not what I—

Man. …(…,.<>…?!@)

Woman. Why didn’t they like it.

Man. To much sex jokes.

Woman. People like sex jokes. What else.

Man. Too much of this.

The man pulls out gun and shoots woman in the head.

Man. Or perhaps not enough.

END