Act. The end of the Scene. Bolivian Tango

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

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

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Act. You deserve better Scene. Are you sure?

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.

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.

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.

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