tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25730939465116566732024-02-07T04:19:39.240-06:00Kung Fu EvangelistFrederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.comBlogger156125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-46475122895962873552016-03-13T23:59:00.001-05:002016-07-14T12:27:42.845-05:00Word Temples ~ a poem<span style="color: #b6d7a8;">The Chinese symbol for "poem" is made of two characters that mean "word" and "temple". Hence, a poem is a word temple.</span><br />
<br />
WORD TEMPLES<br />
<br />
Compassion is more<br />
than a noun.<br />
More than emotion,<br />
a passing distress<br />
for another's distress<br />
<br />
That slyly escapes the ache<br />
of insistent Bodhichitta ~<br />
that great spirit of compassion<br />
that yearns ever to cherish others.<br />
Eluding, instead, through the loophole<br />
of misdirected non-attachment.<br />
<br />
But in the beginning,<br />
compassion was a verb,<br />
A bell clarifying, calling the heart to attend.<br />
Or a gaze penetrating through to<br />
a more pure land ~ the new Jerusalem<br />
where sympathetic action is<br />
the true measure of righteousness.<br />
<br />
For faith without works<br />
is dead faith, a lifeless statue<br />
erected in the posture of faith,<br />
but worshiped inside a temple<br />
made of words.<br />
<br />
Oh, let compassion fly!<br />
Let compassion become<br />
the winged horse,<br />
carrying us forward, all of us,<br />
to our mutual salvation. All of us<br />
co-arising.Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-19490377142383533652016-02-16T19:18:00.000-06:002016-07-08T19:05:42.462-05:00Ashes Wednesday ~ a short drama<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="MsoTableGrid" style="border-collapse: collapse; border: none; mso-border-insideh: none; mso-border-insidev: none; mso-padding-alt: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-yfti-tbllook: 1184; width: 100%px;"><tbody>
<tr style="height: 355.5pt; mso-yfti-firstrow: yes; mso-yfti-irow: 0; mso-yfti-lastrow: yes;"><td style="height: 355.5pt; padding: 0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; width: 6.15in;" valign="top" width="590"><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<b>Characters:<br />
Eliot</b>, mid-20s Gay male. Preppy.<b> </b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Ron</b>, mid-20s Gay male. 80s Clubby. <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Dorothy</b>, any adult age. Caregiver, unambiguously Lesbian.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<b>Setting:</b><br />
1983, New Orleans<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<b>Props:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Black overcoat</li>
<li>Black umbrella</li>
<li>Black grease paint (to simulate a cancerous sarcoma)</li>
<li>Gray grease paint (to simulate an Ash Wednesday mark)</li>
<li>Oversized sport coat (with broad 80s shoulder pads and
sleeves rolled up near elbows) to make Ron look gaunt.</li>
<li>Backpack</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 12.0pt;">
<b>A note on the
staging:</b><br />
The events of this short play take place over several
weeks. Each time characters exit the stage, time passes. Quick-changes (a
different shirt, bandana, or jacket) help indicate the passage of time. Make
the costuming as 80s as possible.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Author">
<br /></div>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "courier new"; font-size: 12.0pt; text-transform: uppercase;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<br />
<div class="TRANSIN">
<br /></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.0in;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At lights up, </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2 young, Gay friends are walking <br />to a popular French Quarter bar.</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Their clothes scream 1980s, </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">preppie (Eliot) and clubby (Ron).</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Ron, I swear to God, this year for Lent I am totally giving up dick.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Dick! Ha. Not much of a sacrifice. What’s it been, like 8
months, a year, since you’ve even seen dick? Held it? Smelled it? <i>(*gasp*)</i> Oh my God,
Girl, did your hymen grow back?!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Shut up. Whatever is killing Gay guys has something to do
with Gay sex.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Ok Eliot! Here we go again! President Reagan and Jerry
Falwell are in cohoots to systematically kill off all the fags with some un-named,
mystery plague. Right?</div>
</div>
<div class="Dialogue" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
You’ve seen the flyers. We saw one just a couple nights ago, outside
the Golden Lantern. "Gay Plague Infects New Orleans."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
That flyer was handwritten! Hardly a missive from the
Board of Health. Some amateur, home-made bullshit. I can still smell the
mimeograph chemicals! I love mimeograph chemicals. Gets me high.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Fine. Don't take death seriously, Ron. While more and more of
us drop like flies.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Oh Eliot, you dear, dear worry-wart, can we puh-lease lighten
up the conversation and get to Bourbon Pub already? Hunky Alex is dancing tonight. I heard last week he danced totally naked on the bar and a Saudi Arabian
prince ate his ass.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #073763; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #999999;">(Eliot exits singing)</span><span style="color: #073763;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<i>(singing from Disney’s
Cinderella)</i> Some day, my prince will come...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
That’s more like it. Give up dick for Lent! Sister please.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>(Ron exits.)<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>(When they return, their outfits are different enough </b></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>to denote that 2 weeks have passed.)</b></span><span style="color: #17365d;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Jon Robichaux, Carl Espinoza, Alex Ransom...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Hunky Alex! What the fuck!?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I told you. Drop. Like. Flies. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Not two weeks back, we just saw Alex dancing at the Pub! How
can that happen to someone so beautiful? So fast?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Freddie Guess is Alex's best friend. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Uh, right. Freddie told me that Alex lost all this weight all
of a sudden, from non-stop diarrhea.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I have to sit down. <i>(Collapses
on floor.)</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Then Alex collapsed at Freddie's studio. They rushed him to
the ER at Charity Hospital. Some kind of pneumonia. Within 2 days...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Alex Ransom was a Greek God! Eliot, what the fuck is
happening to us?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I don't know. Maybe there is some kind of right-wing
conspiracy. Something definitely is killing Gay guys. Fast. So fast! Hey,
didn't you and Alex Ransom...?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<br /></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Ron stands and exits without answering. <o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Eliot follows.)<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Dorothy enters speaking.)</span></b><span style="color: #17365d;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Oh, I’ve heard all the rumors. It’s a mutated form of cat
leukemia. It comes from fucking monkeys. And my personal favorite: It’s a government conspiracy to use biological
weapons against the Gays first, then anyone else the right-wing deems “unsavory”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<br /></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Eliot enters.</span></b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">His clothes indicate time </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">has passed, a few more weeks. </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He carries a backpack.)</span></b></div>
<div style="color: #17365d; text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<span style="color: #17365d;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: left;">
But what is it?</div>
<div class="Dialogue" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
The French named it AIDS. Acquired Immumo-deficiency
Syndrome. Actually, they have a French word for that. SIDA or SILA? Something
Frenchy. But in American it’s AIDS. Basically, that means the body’s natural
immunity is deficient, weakened. Our defenses are down. A patient with AIDS
can't fight off infection that a healthy person ordinarily could. A common cold
can be a death sentence.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
AIDS killed Rock Hudson?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Technically, Rock Hudson died of ARC. AIDS-related
complications. AIDS suppressed his immunity, but Rock Hudson died of
pneumocystis pneumonia. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Shit. How's he doing today?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<br /></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Ron enters slowly, walking with a
cane. </span></b></span></div>
<span style="color: #999999; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He wears an over-sized sport coat with sleeves <br />rolled up to his elbows, </span></b></span><b style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">which </span></b><b style="color: #999999;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">makes him look gaunt. </span></b></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On his forehead is a large, black kaposi sarcoma ~
cancer.)</span></b></span></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><o:p></o:p></span></span>
<br />
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
How’s my Mardi Gras costume coming together? I'm going as the
Grim Reaper and Rock Hudson’s butt baby.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<i>(to Ron)</i> Oh yay. More gallows humor. <br />
<i>(to Eliot)</i> My money’s on government
conspiracy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Don’t worry, Darling. Butt babies never live. And look <i>(indicating his forehead)</i>, I already got
my mark for Ash Wednesday. No need to go to Mass. Thank Gawd!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Hey Buddy. Glad to see you walking around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Isn't AIDS the name of a diet candy? Caramel cubes laced with
speed?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Yeah, they might want to reconsider their brand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Either way, you're sure to lose weight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Do you need anything from the store? Any errands?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ron</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Dorothy dearest, can you help me back to bed? I feel the need
to lie down. Let me know if I have any visitors.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<br /></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>(Dorothy helps Ron exit, looking back apologetically </b></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>to the stunned Eliot. <o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>(Turning his back to the audience,
Eliot opens the backpack. </b></span></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>From inside, he puts on a black overcoat, </b></span></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>rubs gray ash
on his forehead, </b></span></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>and then opens a black umbrella, ready to visit a grave. <o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>When he turns back to the audience, </b></span></span><br />
<b style="color: #999999; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Dorothy re-enters, </b><br />
<b style="color: #999999; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">protecting herself from the rain with a shawl. </b></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>She wears warm, outdoor clothes </b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>(but not black. </b></span></span><b style="color: #999999; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">Her color palate is optimistic.) </b></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>She slips her arm into Eliot's
and they share the umbrella.)</b></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="color: #17365d; text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><o:p></o:p></span></span>
<br />
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Didn’t know you were Catholic.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Haven’t been to Mass since my Confirmation. But once a
Catholic, always Catholic. It’s like a scar.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I hope you found comfort.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Yesterday I couldn’t do Mardi Gras at all. The craziness, the
revelry. It’s been two weeks since Ron’s funeral, but I still just can’t. I closed
my curtains and stayed in the dark. But this morning, I woke up antsy, restless,
like I want to scream. I totally needed to be around other people. But like, serious-minded
people, singing hymns about noble things. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I get it. Then after Mass, it made sense to visit him again? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
It’s odd they call this a grave. Who buries ashes then puts a
marker on the spot?</div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
People need somewhere to grieve. A place to go and reflect. Since
funeral homes in New Orleans refuse to accept “ AIDS bodies”, that leaves the
cremation folks, the Neptune Society.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I don't understand why Ron shut me out, Dorothy! He wouldn't
talk to me, look at me, acknowledge my presence! Why was he angry at me?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I'm sorry, Eliot. Yes, Ron was angry. At the world. At me sometimes.
At you. But deep down, you know he was mad at death. Everyone confronts death
in a different way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
He left me before he left me!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
He was terrified.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
At least you were with him…in the final moments. Thank you. Seems
like all the dykes are taking care of sick Gay boys. You’re the only ones who
will touch us.</div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Jill, my wife—Over there. We’re visiting another fella she
was caring for—together we’ve been caregivers to 9 guys, so far.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
His own bitch mother wouldn't even visit him in the hospital.
At the funeral, I couldn't look at her, or I would scratch her face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
There's a lot of fear around AIDS, and a lot of mystery. I
mean, we don't even know what causes it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Sex is killing us! At least, the Gay kind. At Mass, I vowed
to give up sex for Lent. Easiest decision of my life. I haven’t had any kind of
sex in a year. Ron made fun of me, but I'm scared if I have sex, I'll die too!
Death chases after folly!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
It’s not folly to enjoy sex. It’s not folly to feel and express
love. But protecting yourself, yeah, I think that’s a good idea right now. Until
we know better what’s going on. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
So many. So fast.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
While our glorious President won't even say the word AIDS.
40,000 deaths, and Reagan sits back in his Oval Office ignoring our cries for
help. Because Gays dying is convenient to his political agenda. Fuck Reagan!
Fuck. Reagan.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Eliot</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I just want it to stop. I wish it all wasn't happening!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="CHARACTER">
<br /></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
I know, Honey. I wish it wasn’t happening too. But now is not
the time to bury our heads in the sand or pretend—along with the Leader of the Free
World—that AIDS is not happening. If Reagan won't say the word AIDS, we have to
scream it. Until we know how it’s caused. AIDS! How it spreads. AIDS! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Eliot looks around, </span></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">nervous </span></b></span><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">other mourners will overhear.)</span></b></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">
<o:p></o:p></span>
<br />
<div class="CHARACTER" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dorothy</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
Until we cure it, and untold lives are saved. Until then, Eliot,
silence equals death.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="margin-left: 1.5in;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(The word "death" wounds Eliot. </span></b></span></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><b><span style="color: #999999; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Dorothy takes the umbrella </span></b></span><b style="color: #17365d;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #999999;">and protects them both.)</span></span></b></div>
<span style="color: #17365d; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;"><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
<span style="color: #17365d;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></span>
<br />
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="TRANSOUT" style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lights fade to zero.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="TheEnd" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The End</span><o:p></o:p></b></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-3353178023877035782015-11-18T14:25:00.000-06:002016-07-09T20:20:43.531-05:00Ohms of Resistance ~ a dramatic monologue<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Setting</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Can be a bare stage. Action takes place in
the Gulf South, inside a barricaded Power Relay Station.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Time</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">:
Current, any time of day or night.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Props</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">:
<br />Typed manifesto, heavily edited by hand. <br />Frayed wire. <br />Smart Phone (either on a tripod or held by hand.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: .5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Jess
Tendrup, a slim young man, dressed like a small town Metal Head, adjusts the
video feature of his Smart Phone.
He often speaks directly to the video camera. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When
ready to begin, Jess steps into the camera frame, composes himself, musses-up
his hair, and reads a prepared statement.)<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>SOUND</b>: off-stage battering ram, which Jess tries to ignore.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We
take electricity for granted. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;">Flick up the switch. There is light.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;"> We don't ask how. We simply will it. And it is. L</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">ike sorcerers, we bend electrical power to our own purposes. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We harness wild current, direct its flow over long-distance cables right up to our own houses. Right up to
the supermarket—where electricity, our ever faithful wizard's apprentice, keeps our pizza bagels frozen.
Right up to the hospital, shopping mall, multinational conglomeration. Right up to the prison, where we depend on electricity for searchlights, sirens, electric fences and electronic locks. The humble light bulb is merely the physical form of Wired Society's combined </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">will power. Flick up the switch. There is light.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Forgets
the prepared statement, speaking impromptu.)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So don’t tell me we can't do nothing about it. Don't tell me it ain't nobody’s fault!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well Brother Jess, that’s what to expect from God-forsaking, Hell-bent, Secular Humanist modern society.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But it just keeps on happening! Nobody can stop it. People
lack the power. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;">Politicians lack the guts.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And the perps are the police themselves! Oh dear! The military!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“That is because not
enough righteous citizens are armed! Without more guns in the hands of heroes, nobody
can stop this tragedy (that keeps on happening.) So nobody is to
blame.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Oh really? Well, I blame me! I
blame all y’all! B</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">lame us all for what happened. What keeps on happening!
Only difference is, I am the only one with the will power to do something.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Removes
a frayed wire from his pocket.)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.4px;">We can be humbled. In a single stroke, we can be made to tremble before the torrent of wild electrical current. </span>I promise, I will stop
the insanity. With more insanity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But first, hoo! I should
take a breath! Aw man, I get ahead of myself!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Puts
wire back into his pocket.<br />Adjusts the camera angle.<br />
Musses-up his hair.)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I still need to record
my final thoughts for posterity, my last Will and Testament, my video suicide
note. My manifesto!</span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif;"><b>SOUND</b>: Off-stage battering ram.</i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Yes, yes. I hear y'all!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.4px;">Homeland Security soldiers are outside the building right now,</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.4px;"> banging away at my barricades. Sounds more like they're banging at my brain. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.4px;">Sorry soldiers! Y'all will just have to wait! You can have the Power Station back when I'm done.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At the very least, these words spoken on this video blog, I want them to exonerate my family and defend other
innocent folk from blame. Except for you, Pastor Roloff. You accept your blame, then go right ahead and die. Go to Hell, jump into the molten lake of </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;">eternal</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;"> brimstone</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">, and burn right up--Brother.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Hello, YouTube! This is
Jess Tendrup. Howdy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Attempts
to read prepared statement again, but often digresses.)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I, Jesse Tyrelle Tendrup, being</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> of sound body, as
y’all can see </span><i style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(flexes muscles for camera)</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">. And of
sound mind. Yes! I do know </span><u style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">who</u><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I am—Jess Tendrup. </span><u style="font-family: 'times new roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Where</u><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I am—barricaded
inside the Gulf South Power Relay Station. And what I plan to do.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i><b>SOUND</b>: battering ram.</i></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I, Jesse Tyrelle Tendrup, son of
Mister and Missus Travis Tendrup, and a recent graduate from Maranatha Christian
Academy, currently employed as a car detailer down at Big Sally’s Autobody—Hey
Sal! As you can see, I won’t be coming into work today—I do herein and forthwith solemnly
accept full and sole responsibility for my actions. Nobody but me needs to
carry any blame on this. Not my useless mama. That's for sure. Not my sister, <i>(her name chokes him)</i> Melissa Grace. Not
even my daddy, who really is to blame. Really, if y’all only knew. But not even
my asshole daddy needs to carry any blame on this. And even though Pastor Roloff
loaded up my head with hateful, fantasy lies, I, Jesse Tyrelle Tendrup, accept
full responsibility for my own destructive actions. I know folks will get hurt. Some folks might, probably, die. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sacrifices are expected
with an Armageddon, a disruption of this magnitude. Not just the local grid. Folks, our town—we
are the hub of the entire Gulf South! This Power Relay Station can bring down the
whole region. Imagine the Gulf dark. Actually, in 10 minutes, y'all won’t
need to imagine. Hospitals will go dark. Critical-care and life
support machines shut off. Heart monitors stop beeping, beep, beeeeeee... Hearts stop. At the prisons, no more electricity for search lights, sirens, or electric fences. What good are electronic locks with no electricity? All the prisoners
will escape, run amok, maraude the lowlands and the high ground, and savage the
citizenry. But worst of all, at the supermarkets—where we are most vulnerable—pizza bagels will thaw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then there’s me! I’m a sacrifice
too. A willing sacrifice, for sure, in order "to bring illumination to the masses." Right, Pastor Roloff? “Shine a bright light. So that the Righteous, groping in the dark, may see the uphill path to the Pure Land.” I am a
martyr for the cause. Perhaps even, if you will allow, a victim? As much a victim as anybody else. That
is, if y’all are willing to accept that a person can be both the victim and
the villain in the same story, especially when he tells the story his own self.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Villain? Victim ? Martyr? Nah, what I truly am is Resistance. Over at the Autobody, Sal's been teaching me
about a car’s electrical system. Sal taught me that Thomas Edison, the electronic
scientist, proved that we need Resistance to make light visible. Resistance, measured
in Ohms. Love that word! <i>(chants like “om”)</i>
Ohhhhms. I am the tungsten filament
inside the bulb that resists the current, halts the mindless march-step of
electrons, and makes them reveal their incandescence!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But why now, Jess?
What changed?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Well, the Event changed…everything,
changed me. I still feel those sirens whining inside my ears. My
eyes still wince at the memory of strobe lights, blue and red, rotating on the rooftops of cop cars,
fire trucks, a SWAT wagon, two ambulances. Was all that show of force really
necessary for one terrified Black kid clutching a water pistol for dear life? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Where did all that smoke
come from? Emerging from-out the smoke, TV news crews walked and talked</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;">—</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">it seemed at the time</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;">—</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">in
slow-mo. Everything in slow-mo. Click-click of Smartphone
cameras echoing in the smoke. Click-click, click. <i>(Turns phone toward audience.)</i> Onlookers filmed Video Selfies</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;">in a slow arc, scanning the horror. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;">Fucking </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">gawkers! Uploading the Event from
their Smart Phones directly onto Social Media, separating the actual Event in space and time from its truth. All via the alchemy of electricity—for us
to Share and Like later on, at our leisure.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>(Turns phone camera back toward self.)</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Event completed my
education in disillusionment, showed me the utter, moral bankruptcy of our
Wired Society. To murder a child, film it, and say nothing. We are all nothing but a mountain-heap of dead batteries.
Our potential expended. Useless and toxic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Event re-wired my brain's micro-circuitry. It radicalized me.
Knocked free some electrons from their usual orbit. “This shit ain’t right!” I screamed at
the cops, at the TV crews, the gawkers. “Stop this stupid fucking insanity!” And when
the TV news and the gawkers turned their cameras on ME, that’s when it struck me.
Sometimes it takes an act of stupid fucking insanity to stop stupid fucking insanity. To restore Order.
Yank off the bandage, so the wound can breathe and finally heal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Reading manifesto.)</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My act of resistance shines
a bright light onto our collective, national passivity. Calls attention to the
strangle-hold of special interest groups over Congress, such as the NRA,
ACLU, NAACP, and probably NASA for all we know. My sacrifice—although it might seem senseless, insane—advocates for sanity. For good sense.
Deprived of our electric light, may we see the true light of God’s judgment!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Most importantly of all, my
resistance stands witness to violence. I am a lighthouse casting my beacon onto the rocks below, onto atrocities committed against us by those we trust! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Directly to camera.)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I, Jesse Tyrelle Tendrup,
witnessed a police officer gun down a child, a little-little kid, outside the
Pump-Dump-and-Go gas station and convenience store. Just a kid, his small Black
face is frozen forever in my mind in a mask of terror! Y’all never want to see
terror like that on a boy’s face! No, I’m just a boy. He was a little-little
kid, same age as my sister, clutching his plastic, water pistol to his heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was only at the Pump-Dump-and-Go
to buy a Scratch ticket and a PBR when I saw this cop gun down this kid over a toy gun painted safety orange! Other cops looked
on. Said nothing. Turned a blind eye. Why are cops afraid to call out one of their own? Not even for murder? Of a kid? Too e</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;">mbarrassed, I guess</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">. Nobody did nothing except take more Selfie photos
and Selfie videos. So I guess all y’all are right. Nobody is to blame.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And Nobody has been
investigated for this <u>mur</u>-<u>der</u>. Nobody tried. Nobody convicted. Nobody
brought to justice. But a kid died, all the same. A kid with a name, Baltimore
Ferguson.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Mama, I am talking to
you right now! Keep Melissa Grace safe, you heard me? You know exactly what I am
talking about. Since you don’t care nothing about yourself none, don’t even stand
up to protect your own self, ever, you have only one job. Simple. Keep Melissa Grace
safe from violence, safe from Daddy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Now Melly, I don’t want you never to watch this video until you’re a grown adult woman. Mama, don’t let Melissa
Grace watch YouTube! Melly, you don’t need to see your older brother, Jess,
like this, in his last minutes alive on this Earth. But when you do grow up and
you do watch this, Jess loves you. Sister. try to forgive him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Please understand, Melly.
It’s better he leaves now. Before he hurts somebody again, before he hurts you. No, Jess would never hurt you! But he did already punch Mama. Punched Mama right in
her dumb, useless face, the same way Daddy punches her. She didn’t do nothing to
defend herself—from her own son!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Jess thought he inherited
the family curse, the family disease. The Tendrup appetite for violence. But
now, after Mama and Daddy and all their shit, after the Event, after the murder
of Baltimore Ferguson, now he believes it’s the whole world’s disease. The
strong hit the weak.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">You, Daddy. What the
fuck, old man, you’re a mean asshole. I hope this video breaks your heart, Fucker,
but we both know you don’t got one. I hope my action today chokes you with
shame. Be the first time in your goddamn life you felt ashamed, even though you
got plenty to be shameful for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">All y’all watching this
YouTube video, I want it </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.4px;">publicly </span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">known that Travis Tendrup, my father, didn’t
just beat me up over and over to prove he's stronger than a kid. He touched me too. TOUCHED me. There, I said it!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And if you EVER touch Melissa Grace,
I will claw my way back up from Hell with a demon army to drag you, ass-fucker, down into
damnation with me!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As for you, Pastor Roloff, only
good thing I ever learned from all your sermonizing was eloquence. How to
string together pearls of pretty words. Nuance 'em, only hint at deeper
meanings. So here comes some eloquence. Brother, fuck you. Ain’t no such place
as the “Pure Land” except in your bigoted, mother-punching imagination. Lay off
the Apostle Paul’s hate-gospel for a while, huh? Get back to Jesus. Less
righteousness and a lot more love. Amen, Pastor?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Fuck eloquence. I blame
YOU, Pastor Roloff! Because your mind is sick! Your values are sick! Your hateful
attitudes are what makes it ok for cops to kill Black children, for fathers to
kill…to kill their sons. And you said nothing, Pastor. Turned a blind eye. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The ones we trust to protect us don't.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I am Baltimore Ferguson too!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And uh, Big Sally—Sal, by
the time you see this, guess you already figured out I won’t be coming into
work the rest of this week. Sorry about leaving y’all short-handed at
the Autobody. You deserve better. Thanks, Sal. For everything you done for me and
tried to do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">One final word: To the Homeland Security soldiers outside my
barricade. I know your long silence means pretty soon y’all are planning to escalate to explosives. Right about the time I make
the world go dark, BOOM! Y’all will bust into this Power Station and stumble upon my
charred remains, smoldering between the negative and positive terminals. Fellas,
I am truly sorry to spoil y’all's day. You ain’t the cop who shot Baltimore
Ferguson. Sorry about the smell too. Burnt hair and yeah, burnt poo.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">Big Sal told me, when the Electric Chair first was invented, scientists protested. The whole scientific world up and protested. God's truth. Because they believed that the Electric Chair degrades "the mysterious dignity of electricity," while mocking the very science that makes it possible to electrocute killers to death.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">At the very least, we
can all agree I spared taxpayers the expense of frying me in the
Electric Chair. These days, the high cost of electricity is shocking!</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.4px;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Removes
the frayed wire from his pocket.)</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(chants like “om”)</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
Ohhhhhhhmssss…. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Hope I don’t really go
poo.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; margin-left: 1.5in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">(Puts
the frayed end of the wire into his mouth.)</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="right" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; text-align: right;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">SOUND</span></b><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">:
Pfzzt. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 16.0pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Blackout</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>SOUND</b>:<i> BOOM! and then rubble falling as soldiers bust in.</i></span></div>
</div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-24331756475110409402015-05-30T08:49:00.000-05:002016-07-08T19:05:03.231-05:00Next of Kin ~ a short drama<h3>
CHARACTERS</h3>
CHUCK<br />
Patient’s same-sex husband.<br />
<br />
AUNT BELLA<br />
Patient’s middle-aged aunt.<br />
<br />
RESIDENT<br />
Fourth-year Medical Student, part of the patient’s care team. Female. Very young in comparison to other cast.<br />
<br />
<h3>
SETTING</h3>
Hospital room.<br />
<br />
<h3>
TIME</h3>
Early evening, during visitor hours.<br />
<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i>(A hospital room, during visitor hours. A family is gathered around the unconscious body of Jimmy Catalano. Chuck, Jimmy’s husband, is comforting Aunt Bella.)</i></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Why don’t someone tell us something?! We been here 45 minutes and nobody will tell us nothing. Where is James’ friggin’ doctor? That nurse at the front desk won't tell us a damn thing.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
She can’t. Nurses are forbidden from discussing a patient’s prognosis with family members. That’s the doctor’s job.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Then where the crapola is James' doctor?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Excuse me, may I come in?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>(Charging the Resident.)</i></div>
Where the hell is Doctor LeDoux? We been waiting here one hour. I want James’ doctor to get in here and explain to us what the hell is going on!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT </div>
I’m sorry you’ve been waiting so long. Doctor LeDoux is not available right now. She’s in the O.R. That’s why I’ve come in.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
And who the hell are you?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
My name is Veronica Melbourne, I’m a Resident. I’m part of the team that’s taking care of Mister Catalano.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
A Resident? We want a real doctor!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I assure you I am a real doctor. I’m in my last year of Medical School, and residency is the final step in my training. As I said, I’m part of the team who’s been caring for…<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
This is how Tulane treats families? We find James unconscious, unresponsive, with a tube down his throat. But no! The doctor makes us wait and nobody tells us nothing! Except that orderly. He walked by here, looked in and muttered “Oh, that coma guy”. Holy Mother of God! A coma?!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I am so sorry that orderly said that. That is grossly inappropriate. I will personally follow-up with the orderly staff to find out who said that and make sure it never happens again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Appalling.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Is that what’s going on? Is Jimmy in a…a coma? Why is he in a coma?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Sir, what is your relation to Mister Catalano?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK </div>
Jimmy is my husband.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>(beat) </i></div>
I have some difficult information to discuss with Jimmy’s…Mister Catalano’s <i>legal</i> next of kin. Does Mister Catalano have a…um, wife?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Do you hear what Charles just said, young woman? He and James are married. Just as married as I was to my dear, departed Alonso.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I understand that. Unfortunately, the State of Louisiana does not yet recognize same-sex marriage as legal. I mean no offense, but..<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
We are offended! How would you like if YOUR husband was in a coma…<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I did not say coma. And my hands are tied on this matter. As a medical professional, I do have to work within legal guidelines. Does Mister Catalano have any adult children?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK </div>
No. We don’t have kids. <i>Jimmy </i>doesn’t have kids.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I see. Are his parents alive? Does he have adult siblings?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Charles and me are James’ only family. His parents kicked him out when he was 16 for being Gay. Then they died in a house fire—God have mercy on their souls—in their own bed. Now I am James’ only blood relative.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Ma’am, your relationship to Mister Catalano?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
I am his aunt. James’ mother is my sister. James and Charles are practically my own sons.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Then that makes you Mister Catalano’s legal next of kin. As I said, I mean no disrespect to you, Mister…??<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Caldwell. Chuck…Charles Caldwell.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
<i>(to Aunt Bella)</i> And how may I address you?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Mrs. Isabella Lorraine Alfaro. The boys, they call me Aunt Bella.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Mrs. Alfaro, hello. Again, my name is Veronica Melbourne. Before we begin our discussion about Mister Catalano’s care, what would you like to happen right now? Should I discuss with you alone, or would you prefer Mister Caldwell to also be present?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Are you retarded in the head? Of course I want Charles present! He is James’ husband! You have the moral responsibility to discuss James’ healthcare with James’ husband!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Alright. As long we all understand that any decisions regarding Mister Catalano’s care can only be made by his legal next of kin. Please, may we sit down?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Is it that serious?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
What I came to discuss is difficult. Sitting down is a good idea.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Sit here, Charles. No thank you. I will stand.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Mrs. Alfaro…<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Please, include us both.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Yes of course. Mrs. Alfaro and Mister…??<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
He said Caldwell!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Excuse me. I’m so forgetful with names when I feel nervous. Mrs. Alfaro and Mr. Caldwell, please prepare yourself for difficult news.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Is it a coma?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Before I answer that question, can you explain to me what you understand about Mr. Catalano’s condition?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
James came here this morning to Tulane for knee replacement surgery. Now he won’t wake up. Got that tube down his throat.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
I dropped Jimmy off myself. Bella and I came back now, together, to check on him. Assumed he would need to rest up a couple days, then we’d take him to our home. But we don’t understand why he won’t wake up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
And that chooch in scrubs looked in and called him “the coma guy”!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Again, that was inappropriate. Mister Catalano’s surgery did go well. Only a couple hours ago he was alert and speaking.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Is he in a coma now?!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Not a coma, Sir. Please allow me to continue. I promise I will answer all your questions after I give you complete information. As I said, Mister Catalano was alert and speaking. Then the Charge Nurse informed the medical team that he was complaining of shortness of breath.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Oh my god.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I was part of the team that rushed into the room to help Mister Catalano. By the time we arrived, he was unconscious and non-responsive. We started CPR and then requested a Code Team.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
A what?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
An emergency trauma team. They confirmed that Mister Catalano’s heart was not beating, and they took over the CPR.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
His heart stopped beating? Why?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
After knee surgery, it’s common for a deep-vein thrombosis to form.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Missy, you better start speaking English. We have every right to understand this. And we can. If you speak language we understand.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Of course. I apologize for my word-choice. Let me back up a little. After Mister Catalano’s surgery, a blood clot formed in his leg. The clot broke away from the site of the surgery, and travelled in his blood stream to Mister Catalano’s lungs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
You said his heart stopped beating. He had a heart attack?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Not exactly. The blood clot blocked the major artery between Mister Catalano’s lungs and his heart. We call that a pulmonary embolism. Because of the blockage, his heart could not receive oxygen, and that’s why he had a cardiac arrest. His heart stopped beating.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
But Jimmy doesn’t have heart problems!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
It was the clot, Sir. One possible risk of this kind of surgery is the formation of blood clots.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
So why is he unconscious? Why the tube in his throat?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
The Code Team did CPR to get his heart beating again. After numerous attempts, they were finally successful. But although his heart did start again, in the meantime, Mister Catalano’s brain was also deprived of oxygen.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
His brain? For how long?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
We don’t know for sure. Long enough that his brain suffered anoxic brain damage.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
English!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Brain damage due to the lack of oxygen. That tube you see is helping Mister Catalano breath. The brain controls breathing. But because of the brain damage, Mister Catalano’s body cannot breath on its own.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
People wake up from comas all the time.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
This is not a coma, Sir. The damage is more severe than that.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
What do you mean more severe than coma?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
We don’t believe Mister Catalano will wake up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
He’ll wake up. Look, he’s breathing. I see him breathing!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I’m sorry to tell you this bluntly, Ma’am. But what you see is a machine breathing for him. If we remove the machine, his body won’t breath on its own.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
He will die?!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I’m so sorry.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
James chose Tulane! He didn’t have to come here for surgery. He did the research. Tulane is supposed to be the best in Orleans Parish for this kind of knee replacement surgery. How could you let this happen?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
We are investigating right now how this happened. The best we can tell, after surgery, Mister Catalano should have received an anti-coagulant medication to prevent blood clots. He wasn’t.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Wait, what? You were supposed to give Charles medicine to prevent THIS! And you didn’t? This is your fault!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I’m so sorry.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Sorry?? Sorry won’t feed a mockingbird! Sorry won’t wake up my nephew!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Of course you’re shocked, angry, and grieving. I don’t claim to understand exactly what you’re feeling. But I am here to help you any way I can.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Help us by waking up my nephew!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Bella, please. It’s not her fault. She’s the bearer of bad news. <i>(to the Resident)</i> You tried to save him. You gave him CPR. Thank you for that.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I did everything I could, everything I know how to do.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
And now Tulane rewards you by making you give us the bad news. You’re a very fine young doctor, Miss Melbourne.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Oh! Thank you, Mister Caldwell. It’s my duty and my honor to be with your family at a difficult time like this. <i>(beat)</i> There’s more for us to discuss.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
God in Heaven! Are you kidding us?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Bella, please. Let her continue.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Mrs. Alfaro, did Mister Catalano ever discuss what he would want if something like this ever happened?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
What do you mean?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
How would Mister Catalano, James, want us to care for him? For example, we can keep him on the ventilator. And if he has another cardiac event, I mean, if his heart stops again, we could resuscitate him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Of course we want that. We want him to live!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Is that what James would want? If his quality of life is compromised like this?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
My nephew wants to live! Tell her, Charles.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Even knowing that he probably won’t ever wake up? Or if he did, he would not be the James you know?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
CHUCK</div>
I understand what you’re saying. Bella, she means withdrawing care. Withdrawing the breathing tube, letting Jimmy…<br />
<br />
<i>(Long beat.)</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Well, I want him to live! You said I’m his next of kin. His legal next of kin. You have to do what I say. I want him to stay alive!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Bella!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
I'm sorry, Charles! But I can't just do nothing. Let them pull the...I can't stand by and watch James... He's my boy! You're both my boys.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
<i>(to the Resident) </i><br />
We cannot possibly make a decision like that. Not minutes after you just walked in here and dropped a bomb on us.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Of course not. Mrs. Alfaro, you do not have to make any decisions right now. I’m introducing the topic. Begin to think about what I’ve said.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Don’t ask me! You should ask his husband! Charles! Charles is his husband!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Morally I agree with you. But you are the legal next of kin. Discuss it together then. Decide as a family the best course of action for Mister Catalano. What he would want. What the two of you together think is best.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Jimmy and I watched that whole Terry Schiavo fiasco in disgust. We never imagined it could happen to us.Never talked about what we would want. We both thought the real tragedy was that family’s grief put on display, held up to public scrutiny. Judged by Fox News and Facebook.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Terry Schiavo! No! No!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I know this is unthinkable, terrible news. But is there anything I can explain better? Do you have any questions for me right now?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
No, not right now. Bella, Dear, any questions?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Isn't there any hope?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
I can assure you he's in no pain.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
My God! Oh my God! I don't want Jimmy to be in pain! Bella, I don't want him to feel pain!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
AUNT BELLA</div>
<i>(Rushes to comfort Chuck)</i> How can you assure us that?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
RESIDENT</div>
The most honest answer I can give you is Mister Catalano does not feel any pain. The part of his brain that experiences pain is not active.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Jimmy!<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Mister Caldwell, we also have medications we can give Jimmy to ensure he does not feel pain. Medication and other forms of palliative care...to ease his transition.<br />
<br />
<i>(long beat.)</i><br />
<br />
Perhaps I should give you some time to talk and absorb this. I can come back any time you need me. If you do think of other questions, ask for me by name, Veronica Melbourne.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
Thank you, Miss Melbourne. We need time alone now, to talk...to grieve as a family.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
RESIDENT</div>
Of course. Again, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Alfaro. Mister Caldwell... <i>(Attempts to touch Chuck's arm, hesitates, then exits)</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
AUNT BELLA</div>
I don't understand what just happened to our family!<br />
<br />
<i>(The dam breaks, and Chuck finally has the break down he has struggled to hold back. Bella embraces and comforts him)</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
CHUCK</div>
Jimmy is my husband!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
_________________________________________________________________</div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-63835485234465114342015-04-08T12:19:00.001-05:002016-07-08T19:05:25.322-05:00The First Thespian ~ a short comedy<b>Characters:</b><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Thespis of Icaria, a Leading Man<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Glaucus, a member of the Greek Chorus<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Jerkus, a rival member of the Greek Chorus<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<b>Time:</b> 6th century
B.C.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<b>Location:</b> Ancient Greece. On
stage at Athens Amphitheater. 10 minutes until Curtain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<b>Props:</b> Sword. Sword
belt. A mask of Tragedy and 2 masks of Comedy <i>(Optional. Actors may pantomime those faces instead.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<b>Costume: </b>Matching togas.
Thespis’ toga is too short. Glaucus’ toga is baggy and too large. Jerkus’ toga
is just right.<i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
__________________________________</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(Enters
from wing, calling off-stage)</i> Thank you, Ten!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(Enters
from opposite side of Glaucus, doing vocal warm-up exercises...culminating with)</i> DRACH-mah. drrrrach-ma. drach-MAH!<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Thespis, stop worrying. Tonight you will give
an Olympian performance. If your voice fails, you can always rely on
your lovely face.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> But I'll be wearing a mask.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Even wearing the mask of Tragedy, your
unique talent shines through, my boy. Like a star in the heavens! No doubt,
after tonight’s performance, Zeus himself will reserve a spot in the night sky
for your soul to sparkle when you ascend.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> Does my face look lovelier when I speak in
this direction, <i>(turns head in profile to
audience)</i> or speak in this direction?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Where will your audience be seated? Speak
in the direction of their ears.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> But what if I misspeak, Glaucus?! What if tonight,
in front of all the free citizens of Athens, I, Thespis of Icaria, flub
history’s first line? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>(Groups of ladies and
men are arriving for the show.) <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Welcome to Athens Amphitheater, Senators, Ladies.
Have you come to see tonight's Choral performance? Most excellent. We have a very
special treat for you tonight. Very special indeed. <i>(to Thespis)</i> See how the nymphs look longingly upon you, and even
the satyrs...<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> Satyrs! <i>(Leading
man smile.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> ...much admire your comely good looks. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> But tonight, Glaucus, will god-like beauty be enough?<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> I said good looks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> I don’t want to be known merely as a glorious
physique, an Adonis. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(under
breath)</i> Narcissus more like.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> I want to be remembered—nay Glaucus, celebrated
down through history for my skill as …as an…what do we call this? Is it
choric refrain anymore? With only one singer? We don’t have a word for this in
Greek. Am I really the first...ever…to try this?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> To my knowledge, dear Thespis, which
admittedly is not so vast as your own, I never before heard of a Chorus member
who attempted a solo.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>(Jerkus enters)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Nor should it be attempted.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis and Glaucus
in chorus:</b> <i>(intense dislike)</i> Salutations, Jerkus!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Since the dawn of Chronus, there has
always been a Chorus. We are the necessary foundation of a story well told. How
else would the audience understand the playwright’s meaning? Without the Chorus
to explain it to them? In song. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> But never before has a single member of the
Chorus stepped forward by himself, under his own spot of torchlight, and spoken
in the voice of another man or acted out the deeds of another man or pretended <u>to
be</u> another. Indeed Thespis, what you are attempting is the birth of a new kind
of theater. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Don’t break a leg stepping
under that spot of torchlight.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(acid)</i>
Why thank you, Jerkus, for your too kind words. <i>(Stage whispering to Glaucus)</i> But Glaucus, how does one person
pretend to be another?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Uhhh…alright, let's start with your name.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> Surely you know me, Glaucus. We have sung together
the stories of gods and heroes in wild, dithyrambic refrain for 8 years. Thespis.
Of Icaria.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Genius!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Dear Zeus. Yes, I do know you, Thespis, my lovely
boy. Now introduce yourself as the person you pretend to be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> Oh! Of course. Right! <i>(grabs Glaucus by the forearm in a Greco-Roman handshake. Casually
introduces himself as if to a business associate.) </i>I am Pericles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> You are? Really?! This is how an orator, a statesman, a general of Thrace greets his warriors?!<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> I am Pericles?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Mean it. Again!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> I am Pericles!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> More authority! Again!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> I am Pericles! I am Pericles!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(tents
fingertips together and nods)</i> Goooooood. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> That was good?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(to
Jerkus)</i> I shall instill fear and respect for Pericles in the audience.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Not the audience. The armies of Thrace! If
you pretend to be Pericles, then pretend to stand where Pericles stands. <i>(Turns Thespis by the shoulders toward
audience.)</i> On a hilltop, above the valley where Thracian warriors have
assembled to receive your command.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> Yes, I see. And then, I shall roar like a
fearsome lion. <i>(Roars!)</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>(Jerkus roars in
laughter, mocking Thespis.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(ignoring
Jerkus)</i> To instill fear and respect in the audience...<i>(catching on)</i> the armies of Thrace!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>(silence)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(beat)</i>
I like where you are going. Choose something else.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>(Thespis struggles to
come up with a new idea.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> For example, draw your sword, thus. Instead
of roaring like an actual lion, speak your name…with a roar in your voice!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(draws
sword)</i> I…Am…Pericles!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> You make me shudder. You are so real. Honestly,
Thespis, there should be a word, a name, for what you can do. Let us see...you pretend
to be another person. You imitate or mimic the words and actions of a character
in a story...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Thus you are a pretender? An imitator?
History's first mimicker? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> No, I don't like the implied guile of pretender.
Imitator sounds cheap. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> And mimicker? I can’t even pronounce
mimicker without tripping. What about charmer? Because I charm the audience
into believing that I am indeed Pericles. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>(More guests arrive at
the amphitheater.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Good evening, ladies. Oh yes, many good
seats left. Just beyond the urinals. Upwind, I assure you! <i>(calling after them as they pass by)</i> Thank you for supporting local
theater!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Charmer sounds like spells and magic, a
snake charmer. A charlatan. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b><i> (to
Thespis) </i>My dear boy, you are the leading man of the Chorus. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Leading man? <i>(beat)</i> No, that will never catch on. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> Will the audience accept me, Glaucus? Are
they willing to accept that I, Thespis of Icaria, humble singer…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Humble!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> …of the Athens Amphitheatre Choral Company,
speak for Pericles? That I truly am the Great Pericles?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(ruminates)</i>
That depends on your motivation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> My what? What in the name of Melpomene is
motivation?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> This I gotta hear.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Motivation...is...uh? Ah! Motivation is “why
are you talking? Why are you doing such-and-such?” In real life, when we talk
or do something, it's because we want something. We are motivated to talk
because we want something. What does your hero want
that motivates him to say "I am Testicles!" <i>(pronounced Testa-cleez)</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> <i>(raucous
laughter)</i> Oh Glaucus, the hero in this play is named "Pe-ri-cles".
Good thing Thespis is history's first "Leading Man". <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis: </b><i>(movie
star smile to more passing nymphs and satyrs)</i> Thank you for coming tonight.
Stay after the performance. I would be happy to autograph your papyrus. <i>(rakish wink)</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Quite true! I have no mind for memorizing
lines. I would flub history’s first line for sure if I were standing in your
sandals. Instead of a Leading Man like you, Thespis, I am merely your follower.
Perhaps I could be called history's first…uhh… Thespian?!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> History’s first…uh…Th-th-th-theth-pian.
Malarckus! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b><i> </i>And here's Jerkus, history’s first critic! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Well I, for one, need the Chorus to back me up, to keep me in step with
the group mind, to keep me in line!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b><i> </i>What
you do, Thespis, is Art. And Craft. It
requires Art, Craft, and a courageous heart to step forward into the torchlight
and stimulate our intellects, arouse our emotions, stir our psyches with only your
words and actions.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> Brother, you should be directing this whole
show.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> What would that make me then? A Director?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> No, a tyrant.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>(All 3 share a knowing
laugh. Pause. Laugh again.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Speaking of tyrants, <i>(indicating Jerkus)</i> Pericles wants to defeat a tyrant. That is his
motivation. He stands above the battlefield, <i>(indicating the audience)</i> addressing
archers, spearmen, charioteers, and common soldiers, trying to rouse <u>them</u>
to righteous indignation against an evil tyrant. Pericles appeals to their clan
pride as Thracians! He wants to motivate them into fighting and <u>dying</u> for
Thrace. When he says “I am Pericles!”, he is declaring, “Pericles has arrived! Let
the fight begin!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> And this is motivation?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> If your motivation is true to real life,
Thespis, if we recognize and sympathize, then yes, I believe the audience will
accept you as the hero.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus: </b>They are lighting the torches. The
flutes will start soon. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> How is my hair?<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus:</b> Tousled. Like a hero. Sword belt secure? <i>(Thespis tightens his sword belt)</i> Loins
girded? <i>(Thespis flashes his underwear
under his toga)</i> Good and good. Ok, here goes. Let us each don our mask.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jerkus:</b> Don’t flub your precious line.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<i>(They face audience side-by-side, with Thespis in the middle. All 3 solemnly
pull down a mask from atop their heads. Thespis is Tragedy. Glaucus and Jerkus
are Comedy. Actors may pantomime if no actual masks are available.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>All 3 in chorus:</b> Ahhhhhhh…. <i>(Glaucus and Jerkus repeat chant over Thespis’ line.)</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(with
a roar in voice)</i> I…Am<i>…(draws sword)</i>...Testa-cleez!
<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<em><span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">(Glaucus chokes on chant. He pulls up his mask.
Now his face has become Tragedy. Jerkus pulls up his, but remains Comedy
under his mask. Fade to blackout as the panting Thespis, oblivious of his flub,
turns to Glaucus for approval.)<o:p></o:p></span></em></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-12909306877247981112014-01-17T22:12:00.001-06:002016-07-09T20:22:28.752-05:00VitaminD ~ a short farce<div style="border-bottom: solid #4F81BD 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 4.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoTitle">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Italian
Mafia goes up against the Gay Mafia for control of VitaminD, the hottest new
club drug in the 5 boroughs.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Setting:</span></b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> Late 1970s, Manhattan, Studio 54
nightclub<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Characters: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Andy Warhol<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Truman Capote<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony Contralto<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Christophuh
Contralto<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Props:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">2 chairs<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">2 guns<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Folded piece of
paper containing white powder<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;">__________________________________________________________________</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">On an empty stage, Warhol is pacing, massaging a
migraine. Capote anxiously awaits Warhol’s response. Halston, hip cocked,
studies Warhol critically.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: As much as I am loathe to admit it, at least this time, I have to
agree with Tru. We must do something. We can't just recline on our chaise
lounges, drink Cosmopolitans, and allow these New Jersey mooks to sweep us
away. All our hard work, our reputations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Your hair is just awful. How bold!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: (<i>speaking with an effete
Southern drawl</i>) Miss Halston, will you please shut your damn corn hole! Our
dear Andrew is deathly serious. The Contralto family poses a significant threat
to our cozy little “Velvet Mafia” and to our interests in New York. These so-called
"mooks" are coming to Studio 54 today, before it opens. With guns,
most likely. We need some semblance of a plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: What do you suggest, Truman? Blackmail? Murder? In cold blood
perhaps? Why not simply slay them, as we always do, with devastating style, an
arched eyebrow, and biting wit?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony
and Christophuh Contralto enter, unseen by Warhol but seen by the others.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Those thugs are probably not intelligent enough to appreciate
wit, Halston. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: (<i>whispering</i>) Andrew
dearest…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: And it will take more than a belted, camel-hair trench coat and an
eyebrow pencil to get these mobsters off our backs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Mobster is such an unkind word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Oh my God! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: We prefer the term “Consultant”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: We were not expecting company so soon. We were just…having a
private conversation. Um, good afternoon. My name is Andy Warhol.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Right, Warhol. I seen your paintings. Giant soup cans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Yes, exactly. Soup cans. Very expensive, giant soup cans. And
this is the internationally famous writer…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: I prefer the term “raconteur”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Truman Capote.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: In Cold Blood! Right on. That movie was truth, man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Charmed, I’m sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: And fashion designer, Halston.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: (<i>to Halston</i>) You, I
never heard of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: (<i>inspecting Tony’s clothes</i>)
I would never have guessed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: (<i>to the group</i>) Please
excuse the intrusion. I am Tony Contralto. How do you do? This is my associate,
Christophuh Contralto. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: How you doin?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Christophuh is the amiable one in the family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Welcome to Studio 54.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Thank you. You understand what I am saying, when I say “family”?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Yes we do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Although to us, “family” means something entirely different. Do
they seem like “family” to you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: (<i>indicating Tony</i>) He is
definitely not family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: (<i>indicating Christophuh</i>)
Although he might be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony
calms an offended Christophuh with a slight gesture.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: We come under the flag of parlay, to tawk to youz, have a
sit-down, family to uh, “family”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote
and Halston carry in two chairs. Tony and Warhol sit, facing each other. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Mister Contralto…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Please, Tony is fine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Mister Tony. I am sure that your family and our family can reach
a mutually beneficent agreement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: I am sure we can. In fact, I know we will.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Mister...um...I mean, Tony, what we currently have in place is a
fair deal for everyone concerned. The Contralto family continues to sell the street
drugs and all the organics: marijuana, heroin, opium, cocaine…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: And of course, crack cocaine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Exactly. But we control the designer drugs. Anything engineered
in a laboratory. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Anything with a designer label, spelled with initials: LSD, PCP, XTC,
X, MDA. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: MDMA, GHB.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: K.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: We’ll even let you have crystal meth. Although technically meth is
made in a laboratory…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: But Crystina can be such a bitch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: We don’t like how she accessorizes. Crystina often arrives at
social events with guns.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Uh! And all her meth-labs keep exploding. Oh my, so untidy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Hard to part with such a reliable cash-earner as crystal-meth,
but we’d be willing to let it go…if things can stay the way they’ve been. Your
territory. Our territory. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: (<i>uncomfortably long
deliberation</i>) Used to be. But you crossed the line with VitaminD.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Well, VitaminD is our biggest seller in the discotheques. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Studio 54 alone accounts for a quarter of the citywide VitaminD
demand, in all of New York!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: It’s the hottest new club drug in the 5 boroughs! Oh my, Miss Liza
Minnelli herself cannot get through a single Tea Dance without a double-dosage
of VitaminD. And poppers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: I know. That is why the Contralto family wants a cut of the
action. Half.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: And thank you for the crystal-meth business. We’ll be taking
that too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: See? The amiable one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: Until you piss me off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Until you piss him off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Oh Dear, let us not piss off Mister Christopher then. Ladies,
conference.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
3 Velvet Mafia gather to discuss in private, away from Christophuh and Tony.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: You ever been inside a Manhattan discotheque like Studio 54
before?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Nah. What for? I seen that movie “Saturday Night Fever”. What
do I want to do the Hustle for? Like this buncha finnochios?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: (<i>singing</i>) Awwww, do
the Hustle! Doot doot doot, doo-doo, doo-doo, doot doot…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
3 Velvet Mafia members re-approach.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Christophuh, shut yer damn corn hole.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: (<i>approves of Tony’s word
choice</i>) Ah! Another raconteur.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol
sits again. Tony remains standing.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Mister Contralto, um, Tony, after careful deliberation, we, the
Velvet Mafia have decided—unanimously—to respectfully decline your request. We
cannot share the proceeds of our VitaminD business. VitaminD is our territory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: I don’t feel so amiable no more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: It has a designer label. Engineered in our laboratories. Sold in
our discotheques and night clubs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Enjoyed by <u>our</u> family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: (<i>grabbing Warhol’s shirt</i>)
You think you can say no to Tony Contralto? No to the entire Contralto family?
Who da fuck are youz? Three bippity-boppity-boo fairies from Sleeping Beauty?
You will all be sleeping beauties when Christophuh gets tru with youz.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: Ha! Bippity-boppity-boo. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Oh shut your damn corn hole.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: You shut your damn dick holster, faggot! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
3 Velvet Mafia members do not like the word “faggot”.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Faggot?! We are not merely some department store, ready-to-wear,
off-the-hanger faggots. I’ll tell you who we are. We are the Velvet Mafia, the
Pink Mafia, the Lavender Mafia, the Gay Mafia. We are the cultural elite, taste
makers. <u>We</u> decide <u>whose</u> little black dress your wives will wear
to your funerals—a year in advance!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: He said, shuddup. Before we stuff your dick holsters…with our
guns.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
2 Italian Mafia guys pull out guns.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Guns. I knew it. Oh my.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: (<i>standing</i>) You came to
Studio 54 under the flag of parlay! No weapons. Just talk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: Tawk time is done. Weapons now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Well fellas, looks like it’s bullets versus high fashion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Velvet Mafia share a silent deliberation.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston, Warhol, and Capote in
unison: You lose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The 3 Velvet Mafia members begin a fashion show cat
walk from one end of the stage to the other, passing in front of the bewildered
Italians. Capote struts first. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: (<i>stage-whispering to Capote</i>)
Chin forward. Squint your eyes like you hate us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Sitting down again, Warhol pretends to scribble
notes for a review.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Truman is modelling last season’s look for the short, stout,
has-been writer of novellas and true crime fiction. His fedora rakishly angles
across tiny, bloodshot, piggy eyes. While his jaunty cape is flung over a
shoulder with careless abandon, as if to say, “Who are you, Manhattan, to laugh
at me…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Toward the end of Halston’s babble, Capote and
Warhol both attempt to run off stage, in opposite directions. Tony and Christophuh
stop them in their tracks, threatening them with guns.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Stop this faery crapola now! Get back over there, you three
sissies. And let me tawk for a while. It’s my turn to tawk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: Yeah! Just shuddup and listen, why don’tcha. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: What we have here, Christophuh, is a failure of
communication. We are all using the same English words, but mean something
different. For example, when you and I say “family”, we mean the Italian Mafia.
An organized crime syndicate with deep pockets, loads of guns, rifles, oozies,
and ammo. And plenty of politicians, cops, and judges on our payroll. But when they
say “family”, they mean sissy finnochios who take it up the butt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: (<i>to Capote</i>) You
probably never even had a whiff of cooz. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Oh dear, I am feeling nauseous. Halston, please ask our guests to
leave now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Or for example, when I say “give us half the VitaminD
business,” they say “No.” But what I hear is “ok Tony, yes. Take half the
VitaminD business.” See my confusion? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: I can, Tony. I can see your confusion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Yes, you are both very confused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: (<i>gun to Warhol’s temple</i>)
Damn Gays, always acting like they are better than everybody else. Like their
shit don’t stink like shit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: I have been told that mine smells of jonquils and orange flower
blossoms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: I said shuddup! Christophuh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Responding to his name like a one-word command, Christophuh
pushes Capote onto his knees, gun to his head.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Our guns say that one Christophuh is better than all 3 of you
princesses put together. Now, if all the backtalk and sarcasm are done, let us
return to our earlier discussion regarding VitaminD. You 3 Marys will continue
to sell VitaminD to your discothèque “family”, to all your queer-boy faggots
and their fag hags. “Miss” Liza Minnelli, Bernadette Peters, Cher, whoever. You
sell. Your territory. We take half the profit. Our territory. Capisce?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Why should we agree to this extortion?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: Cuz my gun says so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Might makes right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: (<i>pressing his gun more
firmly against Warhol’s head</i>) Don’t it?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Get a load of tough, macho Rock Hudson and James Dean. Only
hetero.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: Rock Hudson ain’t Gay!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The
Velvet Mafia share a look.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Can I get off my knees, please? I have a condition.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Sometimes Truman’s blood alcohol level gets dangerously low.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: And then I get dizzy, with palpitations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Christophuh pistol-whips Capote, knocking him
unconscious with a blow to the head. Capote crumbles to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: Still dizzy?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: (<i>finally removing the
gun from Warhol’s temple, he sits on either of the chairs</i>) One more time.
Give us half the profits from the sales of VitaminD.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote
rouses himself. Stands, wobbly, and reaches out blindly, in delirium. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: (<i>to Capote</i>) Whatcha say
to that, “raconteur”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: I need a doll. I need a goddam doll! Don’t y’all know who I am?!
I am Neely O’Hara dammit! Someone bring me a goddam doll!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Please let us give Tru some VitaminD. Otherwise, he’ll never shut
up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony and Christophuh silently confer, then agree.
Warhol removes a folded paper from a pocket, opens it, and smears the white
powder inside all over Capote’s nose and face. Capote perks up.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: (<i>Performs some impressive
dance-like karate, his accent changing from Southern effete to bad mock Asian.</i>)
Woo-chah! Hi-yah!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony and Chris: What da fuck?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: (<i>imitating Capote’s effete Southern)</i>
Oh dear. Where are my manners? Gentlemen, please allow me to introduce…Miss
Yakuza...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: (<i>more karate</i>) Ninja
Transvestite Assassin! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: You have got to be fucking kidding me. Christophuh, you believe
this shit?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: If she’s a real ninja, Tony, then I am gay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: I told you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote really feels the VitaminD pumping. Making
various karate shouts, he rushes Christophuh, smacking the gun from his hand
with a karate chop. Crouching low, he kicks the feet out from under Christophuh,
knocking him to the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: (<i>jumping upright into a
karate stance</i>) Who dizzy now, mudda-fuckuh?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Chris: You bitches are crazy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony, in a panic, jumps up, pointing his gun at each
of the Gays in turn, trying to regain control of the situation. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Ayyyyyyye!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote does an insane cartwheel, landing behind
Tony. Capote karate chops the back of Tony’s knees, causing Tony to buckle to
the floor on all fours, the gun flying out of his hand. Halston and Warhol grab
the 2 guns that are now on the floor. Capote is about to karate-chop the back
of Tony’s neck, but Warhol calmly stops him.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: That’s enough for now, Miss Yakuza. Thank you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote restrains himself, slowly pulling both fists
toward his torso while exhaling forcefully between pursed lips. He puts his
palms together in prayer, inhales slowly, and bows to the audience.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Ah Contraltos, now that our roles are reversed, we can return to
our earlier discussion. We, the Velvet Mafia, stand firm in our resolve to
retain all 100 percent of our VitaminD profits. And because you have behaved so
<u>un-amiably</u> today, we will also take back our crystal-meth business as
well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony: Fuck youz. We’ll just come back here tomorrow with more guns
iz’all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Tomorrow is the weekly Tea Dance at Studio 54. Can you imagine 400
sweaty Gay men…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: (<i>back to his effete Southern
drawl</i>) And Miss Liza Minnelli.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: …all high on VitaminD? All believing that they too are ninja transvestite
assassins?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony
and Christophuh do not like those odds.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: Stand up! Hands up!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony
and Christophuh return to their feet, hands on their heads.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Warhol: The next time you mooks decide to leave Jersey City, or West
Orange, or East Orange, or whatever New Jersey rock you live under, and decide
to drive the Holland Tunnel over to Manhattan to threaten the Velvet Mafia, the
Pink Mafia, the Lavender Mafia, the Gay Mafia, just remember one thing…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: Warhol, and Capote in unison: Fags
bash back!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Capote: Gentlemen, show us your catwalk strut—(<i>imitating their Jersey accents</i>) da fuck outa our nightclub!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tony
and Christophuh cautiously exit backwards.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Halston: (<i>stage-whispering to them as
they exit.</i>) Chins forward. Squint your eyes like you hate us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 12pt 0.7in; text-align: center; text-indent: -0.7in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Fade out.</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-56932463228240065492013-09-30T16:02:00.000-05:002016-07-09T20:26:42.875-05:00The Gospel of Lazarus - an audio horror<div style="border-bottom: solid #4F81BD 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 4.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoTitle" style="margin-bottom: .25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">History’s first zombie, Lazarus of Bethany, debates
with archangels, Raphael and Lucifer, over whether or not Lazarus should create
more zombies.</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">LOCATION</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">: </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
Present, behind the flood-wall of the Mississippi River, under moonlight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">CHARACTERS</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">:<br />
<b>Lazarus</b>, a zombie. Male.<br />
Light zombie effect face-makeup, especially dark shading on the temples and hollow
eyes. Contemporary clothes.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">,
an archangel. Male or female.<br />
Dressed in jeans and a hoodie.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">,
the Fallen One. Male or female. African-American.<br />
Dressed like a Jazz musician. Fedora, pencil-thin beard, and an awful Hawaiian
shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal a tropical colored wife-beater tank top.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Goth
kid</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">,
a willing victim. Male. Boyish looks.<br />
Dressed in black shreds with sparkly, white mica powder on his face and heavy
black eyeliner like an Egyptian pharaoh.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">PROPS</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">:
<br />
Small gel packs of blood for Lazarus to bite.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="border-bottom: solid #4F81BD 1.0pt; border: none; mso-border-bottom-themecolor: accent1; mso-element: para-border-div; padding: 0in 0in 4.0pt 0in;">
<div class="MsoTitle" style="margin-bottom: .25in; mso-add-space: auto;">
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">_____________________________________</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Under
a cone of blue moonlight, the archangel Raphael stands powerless (on an apple
box?) above Lazarus and his young victim, unable to prevent a murder.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .25in; margin-left: .7in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: -.7in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Brother, restrain your hatred! El Azar, please, stay your hand! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(panting from dragging the drugged body of his victim)</i> Get thee hence! Or stay my hand yourself, if you have any meaningful power. First Clarion of the Order of
Seraphim! Ha! </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">Despite your exalted title,</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Raphael, all you can do is lecture, beg, and nag. Go ahead, stay my hand! What's that? You can't physically interfere in the affairs of humans because you </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">have no corporeal body? </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Angels--even Archangels--cannot touch. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(Grabs the
boy’s throat.)</i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Only God can stop my revenge. But he won't!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Do not commit this mortal sin! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: But without a soul, Raphael, how can I sin? Ever since
my “miraculous resurrection”, I can only </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">recall</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">the memory of morality. I know my actions are destructive. But why should I care? I do not die, Archangel. </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What Hell is there to fear?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: A Hell of your own making.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: God created Hell. It says so in the scriptures. And His son created my Hell on this Earth. That, I know. I was there when he did it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Do not kill this boy! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus
looks down at the pale face cradled in his arms, sparkling in the moonlight
with a white mica powder that Goth kids use to imitate the latest Hollywood
vampires. Kohl-blackened eyes, like a pharaoh of long-dead Egypt, see only Lazarus,
looking up at him with complete trust. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: But this one wants to die. Why should I deny him the blessed <i>(pronounced bless-sed)</i> rest the Creator intends as reward for surviving life? Why delay his reward? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: His people will grieve. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: For him? New Orleans overflows with his kind. Homeless, by the stink of him. A run-away, 14, maybe 15? Easy to misplace. He's like me. Forsaken. <i>(Scrapes his teeth over the boy’s face. The boy pants eagerly.) </i>Should I kiss his cheek or bite it off? Look at him, Archangel. He knows he is about to die. He is eager to give up the struggle. To give up his ghost. Look how he welcomes me! I am <u>his</u> Messiah! <i>(to the boy)</i> What kind of squalid life do you live, Friend, that you choose the damnation of suicide? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: This is not suicide! This is murder! </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: I may be the instrument of his destruction. But this boy longs for death. As do I—ah, but God will not let me to die, right? <i>(to the boy)</i> Stupid animal. I
am not your Redeemer. I will destroy you utterly. </span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
boy smiles with beatitude.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Your argument is with God. Not one more victim to your hatred for God!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: (L</span></span><i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">ooks up from the boy’s eerily calm, sparkling face to taunt the archangel) </span></i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But Raphael, I am God’s victim. Even the
betrayer, Judas Iscariot, died by his own rope. He was allowed—by God—to rest. Oh that
simple sleep enjoyed by all God’s other creations, from the humble single-celled fungi to these stinking apes I feed on. Judas Iscariot! The betrayer who led Christ to
his killers, he no longer suffers among the living! But I do. For what crime am
I punished to wander eternity with no destination, no end, not even a rope to
hang myself? Was I nothing more to God than an object lesson, a demonstration
of His infinite power?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: The symphony of ocean waves, the flight of
birds, and all the natural wonders of His divinely-wrought world demonstrate the infinite power and glory of the Creator. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">:
Then is the son so insecure in his divine parentage that he must curse a
servant, a loyal friend, with undying life? I was
made a monster by the son of God! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: El Azar, how you blaspheme!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: My whole existence is blasphemy! <i>(To the boy, who remains non-responsive to the
conversation happening around him, happily drugged.)</i> You
understand what I mean. <i>(The boy nods dreamily.)</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Then you both misunderstand the purpose of your
existence. Your apparent immortality must be part of His grand design.
God does all things according to His own inscrutable logic, for His own divine ends.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">: I have yet to see any evidence of
“Intelligent Design” at work in my life. But plenty evidence of neglect. For all practical
purposes, God is the </span><span style="line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">absentee</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> dad of the whole world. And for the past 2000 years, God has
certainly been dead to me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Foul blasphemy!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Lightning never strikes. I can blaspheme all I want. Shout blasphemy from French Quarter rooftops! God is dead! God is dead! <i>(To the boy.)</i> See? The stroke of Grace never
falls from on high.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With
a shrieking of cats and saxophones, Lucifer enters, dressed as a Jazz musician
with fedora, pencil-thin beard, and an awful Hawaiian shirt partially
unbuttoned to reveal a tropical colored wife-beater tank top.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Well said, Cuz. But don’t just kill that skinny boy.
Turn him. Make him into another one, like you, Laz. E</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">at of your flesh. Turn him.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We all know you are lonely.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(to the
boy)</i> An angel on one shoulder and the Devil on the other, eh?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
boy only has eyes for Lazarus, his Redeemer, oblivious to the angels.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Raphael baby, alright. You look
well. Maybe a little tired around the eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Fallen One.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Lonely! I have not felt lonely since my resurrection. Loneliness is a sickness
of the soul. Without a soul, I can never feel lonely. What does the Devil know
about loneliness?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Hey man, I am lonely for God. For true. You lonely
for God too, if you just admit it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">: Don’t be perverse, Lucifer. I hate God! </span><i style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(Out of spite, starts to bite the boy’s
skull, but stops himself. Anticipating his imminent death, the boy is
disappointed.)</i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I was at peace. Four days, I had been dead. My sisters, Mary and Martha, a week ago had sent word to Jesus the Nazarene. “El Azar, whom you love, is
ill.” But instead of rushing to Bethany, Jesus—who supposedly loved me—remained
where he was for 2 more days before he even began the journey. After 4 days in my tomb,
the entire village assumed my soul had departed from my body, welcomed into the bosom of Abraham, and could surely never return. But then, He arrived in Bethany, Son of the Almighty, thronged by crowds of followers, his apostles, and villagers. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And then, in history’s most
shameless public relations stunt, Jesus the Nazarene commanded my corpse to walk out of my
tomb. “El Azar, come forth!” Jesus was my friend! He was my Messiah! I did as the Messiah commanded. I came forth. I stumbled out of my tomb, out of death, blinking, tangled
in my grave-clothes. The entire village of Bethany beheld the miracle and wondered! But afterwards, my public usefulness complete, my
role in his passion play over, Jesus the Nazarene forgot to kill me again. And the writers of the
Gospels never mentioned my name after that event. Forgotten. Jesus used me to aggrandize himself;
but Old Lazarus is the one shunted from history, an embarrassment in
afterthought!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Toward
the end of the preceding speech, Lazarus chokes the boy’s throat with two hands.
The boy’s face tenses, but he is delighted. The boy’s lips gasp, “Yah…!” </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">But Lazarus will allow no air. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With leaden gaze, Lazarus stares into the boy’s bulging eyes.</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(distraught
over the murder)</i> There is no shame in longing after God!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: On this, Archangel, we agree. <i>(Adjusts his fedora, smoothing the brim, mildly entertained by the choking happening right in front of him.)</i> I may be guilty of
over-reaching pride, but I am not too proud to admit that I am lonely for God. Cuz, you cannot imagine what it was like for me. I began my existence in God’s own presence, basking in His divine light. But then, hello!, abruptly </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">I was </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">cast aside,
thrown down from Heaven, pearly gates all locked on me, forbidden even to glimpse the magnificence of His hem.
What theologians write is true, Laz. Hell is the absence of God. No lie. An
unquenchable thirst, a longing that goes eternally unanswered. The kind of
loneliness that turns easily into hatred.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(Releases
his choke-hold.) </i>I am not like you, Satan. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Raphael</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(relieved)</i>
The Fallen One knows the true meaning of Hell.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
boy wants death. He tries to wrap Lazarus’ hands around his throat again.
Lazarus is too caught up in his argument with the angels to notice.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: The true meaning of Hell?! For 2000 years, I have been the wandering Jew, forsaken, forgotten, </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">undead. I</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">n this world, but not of
it. But never a word from God. Cursed by his absence! So I curse Him back, Raphael. I
curse all God’s creation. If God won't kill me, then I will kill all that He loves!</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Enraged
by 2000 years of rejection, Lazarus bites into the boy’s skull. The boy
whimpers, screams a little, but is entirely compliant. The boy shudders and moans sexually as his blood
spurts hot into the zombie’s mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Ah-ah-ahhhh… <i>(Breaks a gel-pack of blood inside his mouth.)</i> Holy Manna!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(cold
laughter during the murder)</i> Turn him, Lazarus! Before he dies full out,
make that skinny-ass boy eat a tiny morsel of your flesh!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus
feeds, ignoring his surroundings, hypnotized by the ambrosia of gore. But he manages
to wrench his bloody mouth away just in time to catch the fading light in the boy’s
eyes—the look Lazarus lives for. The boy is smiling in quiet gratitude.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: See how the light fades. The miracle of death!
These are the moments when I see myself best, in the mirror of newly dead eyes,
the inescapable reflection of my monstrousness. My own eyes are cold metal.
They reflect no light. My hair and nails continue to grow, dead cells in a perpetual
state of dying. <i>(Wipes blood from his
lips onto the boy’s white forehead.)</i> And when the Angel of Death passed
over Egypt, Moses commanded that all the Israelites should wipe the blood of
lambs over their doorways, as a sign that Death should pass over. This is the
true meaning of blessed <i>(pronounced bless-sed)</i>.
To be marked by blood.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In
a huff of thunder, the archangel leaves, disgusted once again. Definitely not
for the last time. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: He’ll be back to pester me soon enough, when
the hunger seizes me again. But I don’t care. I have done what I have done, and I am proud of it. I destroyed another of God’s favorites. And if God won't stop me, then no one can. Not even myself. (</span></span><i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
limp corpse of the teenage Goth boy slips from his grip, thumping onto the stage
floor. Lazarus starts, worried someone might have overheard.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Relax, Cuz. Nobody but “First Clarion of
the Order of whats-it-whos-it”, yawn, and Ol' Scratch are witnesses to your murder-slash-suicide. You always manage to elude detection. For 2000 years! Damn, Cuz! Always choose your kill
spots with care, hidden from public view, yesss..like behind this flood wall of
the River. <o:p></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">You got skills.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"> </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus
picks up the body again, and step-by-step turns and drags the corpse upstage,
out of the cone of moonlight, toward “the industrial pier.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Be careful to avoid the searchlights of the Harbor
Patrol. Oh they won’t find this one for days, way on far downriver. The churnin’
currents of the Mighty Mississippi are awaitin' his splash. If you real lucky,
that paddle wheeler might dismember and grind up the evidence for ya.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(calling back, over his shoulder)</i> He’s dead, Lucifer. Why are you still here?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: I enjoy a senseless
slaughter now and then. </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">Most excellent technique. Eating brains? Never thought of that one. You know eating brains don't mean you're eating his soul. That's just an old wives tale.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"> Ah b</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">ut such a waste! Now Lazarus, why didn’t you turn him, like I told you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Because you won’t be content with just one! <i>(Leaving the body, steps back into the cone of moonlight)</i> He might eat of my flesh and maybe become like me, cursed to wander the Earth, undead, undying, soulless. But then you will want more of us, and then more, until we become
an army of the undead, outnumbering the living. You just want my help to accelerate
the End of Days and bring on your precious Armageddon.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <b>Lucifer</b>: Lazarus…Cuz…we both want the same thing. To bring down upon God that same powerful sorrow He brought down upon
us. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">To crush God’s favorites!</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"> Oh I am so feeling ya, f</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">or true, y'all! So why not accelerate the End of Days with companions like unto yourself? And ease your loneliness while you’re at it? Start with one,
and double your kill rate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: No!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: You front like you hate God and all humanity.
Shit!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(Remembers the corpse and steps back out of the light. Stands over the body, facing the audience.)</i> Jesus had been long dead,
resurrected, and already ascended into Heaven. His apostles and their apostles spread his fame over the entire known world, as far as Rome, then Britannia, then this new continent, and eventually the entire planet. But after the first 200 years, still there had
been no message from God, no revelation or illumination that would
explain His silence or my persistent existence. I was bitter, Lucifer! And what about his followers? The souls he had Redeemed? In the streets of Cairo, followers of the Christ tore
each other limb-from-limb…over the doctrine of the Trinity! Is God one with 3 aspects, or 3 Gods? Over this debate, followers of the Christ slaughtered each other with bare hands. In the Coliseum of
Rome, martyrs threw away their lives with gleeful abandon over splintered,
conflicting perversions of His original message of love. I saw the universal church grow to became a tool of
political corruption wielded by Caesars and then bishops. In only 200 years, I had
witnessed murders, abuses of influence, and even war in the name of the Christ. I was disgusted.
Food became loathsome. I lost all appetite for human food. Instead, I craved
the lives of humans. I craved their souls! I craved their brains, where our souls reside.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Wives tale.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: I ate my first human brain, a bricklayer from Corinth.
Then I became a plague upon Europe, a red death.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">The miracle of death is wasted on these primates! You know it. I know it. But it's not enough to merely kill them. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Curse humanity to the same walking death
as you, Lazarus. Rob them of their lives, yes; but rob them also of the peace in death which
God in his inscrutably wise, grand plan denies you. The dead shall walk the Earth, Laz. <i>(sings a Gospel ditty)</i> Armageddon train is a'coming! Is a'coming round...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(interrupting)</i> I don’t want any part of your Armageddon! I will not create your army of undead killers just because the Devil and his demon
minions cannot touch humans. Stick to what you’re good at, Lucifer, whispers. Topple an
economy here. Corrupt a generalissimo there.
If you need Armageddon so bad, bring it on yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: But you and I, we should join forces,
combine our talents. Now it is just plain wrong not to use the gifts that God has granted us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: I refuse to be counselled on right and wrong by anyone who
claims moral authority over me, angel or devil.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">: Hell no! I don't claim no moral authority. I just been at this game a few more <u>eons</u> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">than you. Together, we can hasten the end. I mean, the end of our
subjugation under the foot of an uncaring God. End our suffering. And start our own dominion
over Creation. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: <i>(shouting
to Heaven)</i> Are you even listening?! <i>(to
Lucifer)</i> I don’t want that. I don’t want dominion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Then what do you want, Fool? I offer you
death, Lazarus. Finally. For true.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Slither back into that Godless Hell of your own making! You don’t have that kind of power</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">, Prince of Lies!</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Only God can take or give life. Humans believe they take a life in war or create a
new life through sex. But it is God who lights the candle and God who blows it
out. The lives I steal, God allows it. God never stops my hand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Then what do you hunger for, for real, “El Azar”? Ha! “God
is my help!” What do you want?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: Get thee hence, Satan.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">His
dignity offended, the Devil buttons his shirt front.</span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lucifer</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: The Devil travels abroad like a roaring lion, wherever he wills. I leave you now—because I will it, not because you command. <i>(muttering)</i> Get thee hence, my ass. Think on what I said,
Lazarus. End of Days. Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong! In the meantime, while you mull it over, I shall savor s'more of that French Quarter nightlife. Bask in its rituals of debauchery.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">And
with a shrieking of cats and saxophones, Ol’ Scratch splits.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus
talks to the corpse he is dragging down-stage center, back under the cone of blue moonlight.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: The Fallen One and that nagging First Clarion are gone, finally. Now I can admit to you,
Friend...I am lonely. The only one of my kind, a man who rose from
the grave but cannot die, the original, true substance of horror stories. I am lonely. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Directly
under his spot of moonlight, Lazarus lays down the corpse.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: But I dread Lucifer's idea. It’s unthinkable! </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">Eat of my flesh?!</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Would my flesh re-animate another corpse? I will
never try it. No matter how hard I discriminated among the elite of the
freshly dead, my children would create more undead children. And so on. Eventually, they would become sloppy. Corpses in all manner of advanced
decay would roam the world, suffering for eternity the pain of rotted organs, rotted eyes, brains devoured by worms. These revenants, they would lack a
soul, like me, but they would also lack a mind. They would endure blind, perpetual, inexpicable torment. Their
weird shrieks, their growls would inspire a whole new breed of nightmare. But, Friend, they
would never truly be like me, not merely another man damned by God. Something more
horrific. A greater abomination than I am.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Cradles
the dead boy like Mary cradles the dead Christ in </span></i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqbKB3rsq6oWB-ljPejf0gquFtiG8s2eIvuKIR13GQyLEqaUO0tyMuZ-kS4XfmPGvRNtXnyinolRlDz6Ayf9Nnb8f4oAJUd3fzIVyBlKr2M5JDzdNbt48GcvsLvlqEywX7ckUYRrd7rECt/s1600/vatican-la-pieta-michelangelo-1024x768.jpg"><i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Michaelangelo’s Pieta</span></i></a><i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">. <o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">: I cannot deny I am lonely. But n</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">ot, as the Fallen One wrongly asserts, for God.</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(shouting to the
sky)</i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> God is dead! </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(Nothing happens.
To the corpse)</i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.3999996185303px;">The danger is denial, in pretending we do not feel hunger at all, that we don’t all hunger for Holy Manna. P</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">eace is what I want. Silence. The
stroke of Grace that never falls.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Lazarus
eats more of the dead boy’s brain, grunting and smacking (and bursting another blood-gel packet), as the moonlight
fades to blackness.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .25in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">**
End **</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-34535347833780314242013-06-19T22:06:00.001-05:002016-07-14T13:06:36.613-05:00The 13th Step ~ a short comedy<div class="MsoTitle">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Characters:</span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ron: 25-35 Gay male, “Leading Man” type.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Eliot: 25-35 Gay male, “Best Friend” type.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Other
characters imagined by the actors.<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Location:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Present
day. Shopping mall, outside the Sharper Image store, across from JC Penneys.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Set:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Imagined
by the actors.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Props:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Imagined
by the actors.<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(Walking
in the mall together, Eliot abruptly stops them both)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I spy with my little eye…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Is it a guy?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Is it a hot guy?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Where?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Behind us, over your left shoulder. Jeans.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(looks)</i>
Eliot, you sure like ‘em tall and lean.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(inspecting
Ron, who is also tall and lean)</i> Well I do have my type. Damn! I can’t
believe I’m at a shopping mall. It’s been, like, since Junior High? I didn’t
even know they still had Sharper Image. I thought they all went the way of Blockbuster
Video and Orange Julius<i>. (Flirting with a
passing shopper)</i> Hi, I like your sunglasses… <i>(ignored)</i> Guess he can’t see me…sunglasses.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I’m considering the purchase of some
high-tech surveillance equipment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(freezes)</i>
Uh. Muh. Gawd! </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16.363636016845703px; line-height: 18.18181800842285px;">Ronald Lewis Livingston,</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> what are you up to? You know I will call your
mother!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I just want to check out some cutting-edge spy
gadgetry. See if Sharper Image has those video cameras, the tiny ones they hide
inside the TV set to catch baby-slapping nannies. And bugs. Just what are
bugs, anyway? Are bugs for real? They must sell wireless bugs by now. Come on,
let’s go inside.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Hold on a sec. Are you serious with this Spy versus
Spy stuff?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yeah kinda. <i>(goes inside, greeted by a sales boy)</i> Thank you, yes I do need
assistance. Let's say I was interested in wearing a wire, like under my clothes, to
record conversations, does Sharper Image sell that sort of thing?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(To
sales boy, who is rather cute, as it happens)</i> Hi! Eliot. Excuse us, please.
We’ll be right back. Bye-bye. <i>(pulls Ron
aside)</i> Ok start talking. What in the Hail No is going on?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I’m researching a part for a play.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ron, we’ve spoken about this. What did I tell
you about committing emotionally to your performances? That was totally
unconvincing. Really! What are you really up to?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(long
beat)</i> I think James is cheating on me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Shut up your mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Really. With his Narcotics Anonymous
sponsor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ut oh. The old 13<sup>th</sup> Step.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> The what?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> You know. In the 12 Step Program, there’s an
un-official 13<sup>th</sup> Step. It’s when you sleep with your sponsor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> ‘Zactly. James is 13 steppin-out on me. I’m
sure of it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> What?! Ron, you just said you think. Now you
know for sure?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> No, ok. I don’t know for sure. But I think
he’s cheating on me. I suspect it. That’s why I’m wanting to shop for
surveillance equipment. <i>(to the sales
boy)</i> Uh, excuse me. Hi again. Sorry for the interruption. So what I was
asking, about wearing a wire? Oh you don’t sell that. Too bad. Ok, mind if we
just browse for a bit? Which aisle has high-tech spy gear? Thanks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(to the
sales boy)</i> If we need any more of your generous assistance, I’ll be sure to
flag you down personally. Eliot. Bye-bye. <i>(catching
up to Ron in the spy gear aisle)</i> What makes you think James is 13th
steppin?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(browsing
the gadgetry)</i> For example, after his NA meeting, James always has to “have
coffee” with his Sponsor. Used to be, for just an hour or so. Now “coffee”
lasts up to six hours! Please tell me,
Eliot, what in the Hail No do a couple recovering coke heads talk about for six
hours!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Maybe they talk about you. Oh
look! A tiny spy camera hidden inside a rhinestone tiara. Nobody ever suspects a tiara. <i>(Touches the glass of the display case)</i> Oh I can think of so many
times that would be useful. *gasp* Imagine the porn!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> For SIX HOURS! James and I don’t even talk
that much.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well, that’s saying something right there. <i>(beat)</i> Look, a sponsor is supposed to be
someone you can talk to, open up to, share your darkest secrets with. So is a
boyfriend. But if James is not getting that kind of intimacy at home, I can see
why he might be tempted reach out to someone else. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(too
loudly)</i> Right, they’re fucking!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Shut up your mouth! I never said that. I meant,
reach out for intimacy. Not for sex.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> And what’s the diff?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh my dear, dear Ron. Where do I even begin? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><strong>Ron:</strong> And so later, when James finally does come
over my place, after his meeting, after his 6-hour tete-ta-tete with his
sponsor, it’s late at night but James says he’s too amp’d up to come to bed,
from all that emotional talk he says. He just paces around my living room,
talking a mile a minute, then splits. On his way out he apologizes, saying he’s
too amp’d up emotionally for sex. With me! I am an all-you-can-eat, 24-hour,
sex buffet.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
<strong>Eliot:</strong> Yes, I remember that about you. But I also remember that you’re not big on talking about emotion, sharing feelings, listening. I mean, sure, on the stage “somewhat,” but not in the living room.</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
<strong>Ron:</strong> The curse of the actor. A brash and bold exterior, hiding a sensitive, tender, hungry soul within. You wouldn't understand. You’re not an actor.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">
<strong>Eliot:</strong> I guess. But you’re sure not big with the touchy-feely. So before you get all amp'd up on jealousy and suspicion, before you run off, concocting this elaborate, hair brain scheme to spy on your own boyfriend—which, by the way, is a bad, bad idea—check your own self. Are you sure James has no reason to look for intimacy elsewhere?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><strong>Ron:</strong> Intimacy, intimacy! Fully commit! God, like you know what it’s like in my
relationship!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
I do remember what it was like in our
relationship.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(beat)</i>
Ok! I won’t spy on my boyfriend. Anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ronald Lewis Livingston! What did you do? Did
you hack his emails? Check his browser history? Read his text messages?
Incoming and outgoing call record? I swear I will call your mother.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> No! I did not. Although, those are all very good
ideas. I checked out his Facebook friends, to investigate who his sponsor is.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Sponsor identity is supposed to be anonymous.
And for the record, that is called Facebook stalking.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> All from the comfort of my own laptop! Turns
out, James only has about 40 Facebook friends, so it was easy to narrow it down
to one suspect. I’m pretty sure the sponsor’s a Gay guy, because James goes to
the LGBT NA meetings. A couple times, he’s mentioned his sponsor’s name, like
when they’re talking on the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Were you eavesdropping?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> But only his first name. Chass. Not Chaz,
like a proper coke head. No. Chasssss. James had two Facebook friends named
Charles. I looked them both up. On the Profile page for the second Charles, he had
“liked” the Narcotics Anonymous page and Marriage Equality. He “liked” Broadway
actress Megan Mullaly and the original cast recording of “Rent”. Gay guy, screaming
‘mo, right? And the books in his Good Reads include “The Power of Now,” “Codependent
No More,” and a bunch of titles by that white lady who’s also a Buddhist nun,
Pema something unpronounceable. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Wow. Have you considered reading those books
yourself?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> That’s got to be the guy! In his Profile
picture, he looks older than us. Like 40, but not a troll. Handsome, in that weathered,
tired-around-the-eyes kind of handsome.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Honey, if James was 13th steppin-out on you,
I am sure it would not be for a handsome face. It would be, more like, emotional
intimacy he was after.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yeah, but a handsome face helps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yes. Yes, it does. And let the record show, your
face is off-the-charts handsome. Shut up your mouth! I am just saying, I doubt
James would be turned around by just another handsome face. He’d be searching
for something he doesn’t already get at home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Either way, it doesn’t matter! I don’t want
some other guy being emotionally intimate with my boyfriend. That’s worse than
fucking. No, it’s not. But still. <i>(Flagging
down the sales boy)</i> Excuse me again. Hi. Does Sharper Image sell, like, a wireless,
hidden microphone? Something small? ‘Zactly! A wireless bug! Awesome. <i>(Follows the sales boy)</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(Touches
the display case containing the tiara)</i> I will possess you. <i>(Rushes to catch up to Ron)</i> This guy Chass,
or Chaz or whatever, is James’ NA sponsor. They are supposed to have an
intimate relationship, by definition.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> But this is more than NA intimate. This is
SIX HOURS intimate. This is 13<sup>th</sup> Step kind of intimate.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well, what about us two? Aren’t we 13<sup>th</sup>
Steppin?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron: </span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">What?! <i>(to the sales boy)</i> Thank you for your
assistance. We’ll let you know if we need more help. <i>(to Eliot)</i><b> </b>What the Hail
No are you talking about?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(to the
sales boy)</i> Bye-bye. <i>(To Ron)</i> Intimacy.
All this time, I’ve been talking about this kind of intimacy, between you and
me. We’ve known each other so long, shared all our darkest secrets, our fears,
our escapades. I know everything about your sex life, in lurid, graphic
detail—thank you very much. I know all about your anxious childhood and your
rage-aholic dad. But James might ask, are you cheating on him with me?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well that’s just ridiculous! You’re not my…I
mean, we were once…when we were…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
Don’t strain yourself, Honey. I’m not
threatening to rekindle our sputtering old flame. But you have to admit, we are
pretty intimate. We’re old friends, good friends, best friends, sisters, but
more. It’s like sometimes I’m your parent. And I’m your partner in crime. And
I’m your go-to guy when you’re disappointed, or upset, or FREAKING OUT. Is that
what you fear is happening between James and his sponsor?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Then be the go-to guy for James. Fully
commit, emotionally. Talk to him. When he says he’s too amped up for sex, then
ask him how he feels. You don’t have to eavesdrop. Just listen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> It’s funny, getting relationship advice from
an ex-boyfriend! <i>(Offended, exits the
store)<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well, who would know better?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(Simultaneously:)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(Attempting
to leave the mall in a huff, but keeps bumping into other shoppers.) </i>Pardon
me, Ma’am. Oh, I am so sorry. No Sir, my bad, really...<i> (and so on, until he spots James in the mall, in the JC Penneys across
the hallway. Clumsily attempting to hide, a few times, Ron rushes back into
Sharper Image.)</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(Decides
to stay in Sharper Image. Taps the sales boy’s shoulder)</i> So hey there. Hi
again. I didn’t get your name? Tucker! Hi, Tucker. Eliot. Thanks for all
your help, Tucker. Yeah….Tucker. Uh..so any
chance you’re into Downton Abbey? I know right!? Uh Muh Gawd!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(to
sales boy)</i> I’m sorry, what’s your name?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Tucker!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Please excuse us. I just need to borrow my
friend a moment, won’t be a tick, hold that thought. <i>(drags Eliot aside)</i> I just saw James! Here, in the mall. James!
Shopping across the hallway in the JC Penneys.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh I hope he’s not buying a gift for <u>you</u>.
Just saying. JC Penneys…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> You can see him right through the open
doorway. No don’t stare! Lean and look. <i>(in
unison, they affect a casual lean and look)</i> Lean and look…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I don’t see him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Fine. Just don’t face the Penneys head on. I
don’t want us to be recognized. Let’s uhhh…let’s look at the neck massagers.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(They
move downstage, to the neck massagers aisle, out of sight of the open doorway)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Righhhhht…they’re for massaging…your neck!
Well, was James with anyone? Chass? Someone else?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I don’t know. Looked like he was alone. But
the other guy could’ve been in the john, snorting a line of blow off of some
strange guy’s rock hard cock.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Gentle now…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> What the Hail No is James doing at the mall?
At JC Penneys? He’s supposed to be “having 6 hour coffee” with his Sponsor.
That’s why I wanted to come shopping now, cuz I knew he’d be “having 6 hour
coffee” with his…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> We get it already. So quit stalling. Go over
and talk to him. Ask him why he’s here. Especially if he’s alone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Don’t be perverse! How am I supposed to
explain us being in the mall too?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Maybe with the truth, for starters.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ok. I’m shopping Sharper Image for
surveillance gadgetry so I can high-tech spy on my possibly 13<sup>th</sup>
Steppin’ boyfriend?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ok, maybe not. You are buying him a surprise
gift, a happy sobriety gift, but you can’t tell him what it is.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh that is good. You’re devious good.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Wonder why we’re such good friends? <i>(kisses Ron on cheek)</i> Go get him, Tigger.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(Simultaneously:<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ron
crosses stage to talk to James. Eliot taps Tucker’s shoulder.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Hey, James! Well what in the world are you… <i>(They hug. Then it’s awkward.) </i>Thought
you were at your NA meeting tonight. Why not? For how long? Does Chass know?
Yeah, Chass, your Sponsor. Oh really?! <i>(Grabs
James’ arm and drags him upstage to a more private part of the store. His back
to the audience, we can still overhear Ron.)</i> For how long? <i>(Listens to a sorry explanation from James.)</i>
What about your kid? What about your job? And what about us? Yeah, you and me! Us!
<i>(More bewildering explanation.)</i> Then
why all the sneaking around and secrecy? I thought we agreed to build our
relationship on trust. Well, you’re damn right I don’t approve. I don’t want
any part of that in my life. You have to choose. <i>(James storms off, downstage, Ron in pursuit.)</i> James! James wait!
James! <i>(Watches James retreat.)<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Tucker, hey! So, my friend changed his mind
about the surveillance gadgetry. He’s just gonna ..uh… Why did he want
surveillance stuff? Oh, well actually… Ha! That is exactly right, Tucker!
Jealousy and suspicion. You get a lot of that at the Sharper Image? Oh really?
Jealousy and suspicion keep Sharper Image in business! Well, go-go-go jealous
lovers! Cuz if you decide to start hanging out with me, Mister Tucker, you are gonna
need that steady income. <i>(Leads sales boy
to downstage corner, opposite to where Ron and James are moving.) </i>Let’s
talk over by the..uh..neck massagers. You know, Missy Eliot likes a man who can afford to treat me right. A man who would lay a crown on my brow, say, a rhinestone tiara. Oh yes! Missy
Eliot <u>deserves</u> to be maintained in the high lifestyle to which I someday </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">hope to</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">become accustomed. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(Through the
open doorway, hears Ron shouting after James)</i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Cuz love may not cost you nothin’,
but it sure ain’t free. Sorry. </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(Leaves Tucker
to attend to his best friend)</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> He’s using! James is fucking using again.
He’s not 13<sup>th</sup> steppin’ me. He’s not any steppin’ anybody. He’s using
fucking drugs, right now, all amp’d out of his gourd on coke and I don’t know
what all, crystal meth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> What?!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> James has not been going to NA meetings for
the past month, not since he started using again. He’s not meeting his Sponsor
for 6 hour coffee. They’re never meeting at all anymore. James ignores his phone
calls.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> That’s crazy! So what was James doing at the
Mall?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I’m too ashamed to say. I think James was
here…to shoplift. To support his fucking addiction. At fucking JC fucking
Penneys! I’m not sure which makes me more ashamed. That he’s using, lying, shoplifting!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> O</span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16.36px; line-height: 18.18px;">r where he’s shoplifting from! I mean, no, definitely the other stuff</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">. And let the record show, there is nothing at all for you to be ashamed about. James is the one who’s using, lying, shoplifting, not
you. You are the trusting boyfriend, bewildered about the state of your
relationship, and trying to fix things. Your methods might be a tad CRAY-CRAY, but
James is the one literally blowing it all away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Go ahead, Eliot. Tell me you told me so.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well I would gladly, if I had. When have I ever
told you so?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(They
share a tense beat)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Just seems like the sort of thing that gets
said right about now, in these situations. The sort of thing a best friend
says.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I don’t think so. Right about now, in these
situations, a best friend says, Fuck That Guy! Coke head! Totally don’t
deserve you. You can do way better. I Hate Herrrrr! Ass maroon!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ass maroon? What the fuck is ass maroon? Is
that even a thing?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I don’t know. But now I see this image of a movie poster, James and the Giant Coke Snorting Ass Maroon.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(Ron laughs. Ron cries. They
hug through end of play.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Hey, that Sharper Image sales boy…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Tucker?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Seriously, Tucker? Ohhhhhh-kay. Well, Tucker
is spying on us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Of course he is.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> He’s standing over by the spy gadgetry
aisle. His back is toward us, but he’s holding up that rhinestone tiara like he’s inspecting
it for damage. The rhinestones are sparkling right in our direction.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh the bitter irony!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Tucker is </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16.36px; line-height: 18.18px;">totally</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 16.36px; line-height: 18.18px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">spying on us hugging. He probably thinks we’re lovers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> *sigh* So what else is new?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .75in; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">*
END *</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-25573598431248166182013-06-01T12:44:00.000-05:002016-07-14T13:07:48.895-05:00Heroes ~ a short comedy<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Cast:<br />
</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ron: 25-35 Gay male, "Leading Man" type<br />
Eliot: 25-35 Gay male, "Best Friend" type<br />
Hero: off-stage baby girl voice <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Location:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ron’s living room. <o:p></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">Tuesday evening.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Set:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
<br />couch (or 3 chairs side-by-side)<br />coffee table<br />side table with drawer<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Props:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">
<br />
deck of playing cards<br />
wadded up “used” disposable diaper<br />
cell phone<br />
Mardi Gras cup of “Vermouth”<br />
baby vomit (1 cup of thin flour and water solution)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">______________________________________________________________</span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> What?! ! You mean, you lured me down to your hell hole apartment under false pretenses? Ron, you distinctly said
the only three D-words that can get my heart racing on a Tuesday evening: drinks, dish, and Downton Abbey. Well ok, there's a possible fourth D-word. But you did not say the B-word...<i>(reaching for it)</i>...babysit!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> But I promised James I would watch baby
princess buttercup while he goes to his NA meeting. He’s putting a lot of trust
in me. Eliot, I need your help on this.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>Butterfly
McQueen impersonation</i>) But Miss Scarlet, Gay boys don’t know nothin’ bout
watchin’ no babies. <i>(end impersonation)</i>
Why in the Hail No did you agree to babysit?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Because…I mean…have you seen James? Cuz baby
daddy is superfine! Superhot! Ever notice how young fathers with babies are all superhot?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yeah, that sperm works!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> ‘Zactly. So i</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">n order to get in tight with daddy, I gotta put in some quality time with his daughter, baby princess buttercup.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Eliot:</b> Ohhhhhhh..... I get it now. You bait-and-switch me, so you can ensnare another guy? Sorry, a superhot daddy. My God, that is so devious. Fine, I'm in. But you owe me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Ron: </b> Put it on my tab. And thank you! I just need to show James that I am not
freaked out he has a kid.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Where is the little shitter anyway? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> In my bedroom, napping in her car seat. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> In her car seat?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Show him I can handle the adult responsibilities
of parenthood. That I have a tender, nurturing heart.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh my dear Lord, Ron. You did not say
nurturing heart! You thought “Mommy Dearest” was a comedy. You roared all through the wire hanger scene.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yeah. But you have to admit that was funny, in an over-the-top, camp-tacular sorta way. Besides, "Mommy Dearest" was a true story. It’s not mean, if it’s
true. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> What?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Anyway, by the time James meets my evil
twin, we both will be well into our Gay honeymoon in Cancun. Do the Gays still do Cancun?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Not anymore. It’s all about Thailand. The drugs are
better. So where’s the real Mommy? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Long story, but basically Real Mommy Dearest is unfit
to parent a child.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> But the guy in Narcotics Anonymous is? Wow, Real Mommy must have been some "true story." Why did James hook up with her in the
first place? He is Gay, right?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yes, James is Gay. Or Bi or whatever.
Regardless, he is gorgeous! I can see why <u>she</u> hooked up with him. Don’t
know why he hooked up with her. But I have a good idea why they split. (<i>whispers “Cocaine”</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well that answers both questions. Why they hooked up and why they split. Drugs do make for strange bedfellows. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Like that one Mardi Gras you and I took Ecstasy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Shut up your mouth. I was thinking more like
Whitney and Bobbie. On second thought, I don’t want to spoil a perfectly
dreadful Tuesday evening thinking about Whitney and Bobby. So if past
performance is a predictor of future performance, what does his druggie past predict about the two of you as poster children for Gay marriage?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Everybody makes mistakes, Eliot, Ok? We are
all entitled to make mistakes. Lord knows you’ve dated some winners.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I dated you. So much for winners.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> And that is why we broke up.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I see you’re still bitter. So then, why do
you want <u>my</u> help at babysitting? <i>(Butterfly
McQueen impersonation again)</i> Miss Scar…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(interrupts
Eliot)</i> You know CPR. You took that life-saving course at the NOAC. I
thought you might come in handy, you know, in the event of an emergency.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> If by CPR you mean Cocktail Party Repartee,
then I’m your girl. Speaking of which, where’s the Vermouth. I feel a martini emergency coming on.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Please Eliot, no drinking on the job! You’ll
wake the baby.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>Raising
voice then catching himself</i>) Wake the baby!? How does mixing a little
libation threaten baby princess whatcha-ma-call-her’s slumber?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> When you kick back a few, Eliot, my darling,
you do tend to get loud.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">(</span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">Raising voice then catching himself</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">) </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I do not get loud, Ron. I get dramatic. You’re
“an actor”. It’s called projection. Ugh, suit yourself.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> What is that? Why are you doing that with
your fingers, air quotes? “An actor” in air quotes?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Nothing. <i>(beat)</i> Look, all I am saying is maybe you need to commit emotionally to your
roles, more fully, both on the stage…and in real life. A Wise Woman once told me, it's not mean if it's true.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>
(Mimes a stab to the heart, falling onto the couch. Hams it up too long.)</i>
How’s that for emotional commitment? You know I have to kill you now.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Please, don’t kill the messenger, no matter how
gorgeous she is. Ron, I know you have it within you to commit emotionally to
stuff. You’re just scared.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>leaves
the stage</i>) I should peak-in on baby princess…um. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>searches
for Vermouth</i>) Oh what the hell, a little nip never hurt. It is after 5pm,
for chrissake. Cocktail hour! (<i>Surprised
by Ron’s return</i>) Oh Ron! My blood alcohol level is dangerously low. I was
feeling <i>(whispers "sober". </i><i>beat.)</i> Uh, so how is the
little princess buttermilk drop?<i><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Sound asleep. I said no drinking, Eliot.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Aw Hail no, I am outa here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> No no no! Please Eliot, don’t go. I really,
really need your help on this. I’ve never taken care of a baby before. I really
don’t want to mess this up. James is so gorgeous. I never meet gorgeous guys. He
might be my one chance at happiness.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Hello! Ex-boyfriend in the room!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Sorry. But you know what I mean. You just
said it. I don’t want to fuck this up like I have every other relationship. I’m
ready to commit, emotionally, fully. But I need support from my best fwiend Ewiot. Pwetty pwease.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>cold
stare</i>) You so owe me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> When James and I get Gay-married, we’ll name
our first born after you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Fat chance. Butt babies never live.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>choking
on laughter, shushing himself</i>) You…are…all kinds of fucked up…on so many
levels. Butt...babies… That is so wrong. God, I love you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> It’s not mean if it’s true. Oh I love that phrase! So does baby princess
whatcha-ma-call-her have a real name?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Of course she has a name. Parents tend to name
their babies at birth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well actually this one time, I knew this one couple, they
waited a whole year to name their baby. The rest of us got fed up, never
knowing how to refer to it, what to call the…little bundle, so we just dubbed
it “Noname” (<i>pronounced No Nah May</i>). Like
“No Name”, but with French accents. “Noname” Eventually they settled on </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">some hippy bullshit like </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Sequoia
or Shrove Tuesday.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well James named his little girl Hero.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> ‘Zactly. Hippy bullshit like that. What the what? Like
a Hero Sandwich? I think Daddy and Mommy Dearest were doing more than lines of <i>(whispers “Cocaine”)</i>. They were smoking
the ganja too, huh? The green, the chronic, when they named her, right? Maybe they
were feeling a bit o’ the munchies? Thinking “Yo Babe, a Hero Sandwich sure
sounds good right about now.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron: </span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">No, Tiresome, not like
Hero sandwich. Like a superhero. When little Hero grows up, she will bend iron
bars, leap tall buildings, and save lives. I think it’s a supercute name, and
just makes me love James all the more.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Aw. That <u>is</u> supercute. I definitely need a
cocktail now to rinse the vomit out of my mouth. Vermouth?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> No.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> TV then? Let’s catch the end of RuPaul’s Drag Race
while we wait for Downton Abbey.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> No and no.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> But Hedda Lettuce is gonna teach all the
girls how to hide their candy. Ugh. You spoil all my fun. So here I am, stuck on
a Tuesday evening with an ex boyfriend, a tiny shit factory sound asleep in her car seat, no TV, nothing to do, and no alcohol?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Please Mother Teresa! Your compassion is
overwhelming!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well what the hell are we supposed to DO?
Play cards and gossip like a couple old maids?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> For starters. Gin? (<i>Eliot gets excited</i>) I mean, Gin Rummy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Cock tease. No, I hate cards. You have to do
math. I hate math.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Is that why you always lose count of how
many cocktails you drink?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Zing! The old nag still has some kick left in
her. Ok fine. Carrrrrrrrrrrds. <i>(Slumps
onto couch)</i> But don’t you dare tell anyone. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Don’t worry. Your reputation as a glittering
urban socialite will remain as intact as your hymen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> You’re damn right.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">
(<i>retrieving
a deck of cards from a side-bar</i>) Ok, what’ll we play? Ladies choice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> All this talk about <i>(whispers “Cocaine”)</i> puts me in the mood for Speed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(Joins
Eliot on the couch. Deals 5 cards each onto the coffee table, according to the
rules of Speed: </i></span><i><a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Play-the-Card-Game-Speed">http://www.wikihow.com/Play-the-Card-Game-Speed</a></i><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">)</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> You always were
fast.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Lucky for you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(<i>They play a
rapid-fire round of Speed, in which Eliot is able to discard his 5 cards
quickly. He slaps his hands on the pile of cards</i>) <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>yelling</i>)
Speed!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh my fucking shush… (<i>Exits to check on baby</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Sorry. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">(</span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">whispering</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">)</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Speed!</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>returns,
whispering also</i>) Still asleep. No thanks to you, Whitney. Ok, let’s play
something else. Since that game amps you up so much.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Old Maid?<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Ron:</b> Perfect.</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"> (</span></span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Starts to deal all the cards between the two of them. </i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><i><a href="http://www.wikihow.com/Play-Old-Maid">http://www.wikihow.com/Play-Old-Maid</a></i></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">)</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh my dear Lord! What’s that noxious odor? Ron, did you fart? I
told you to stop eating those Lucky Dogs whenever you're in the Quarter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Uh, I guess Hero needs a diaper change? You
can smell that all the way from in here?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I have the nose of a bloodhound.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> B</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">etter alert Scotland Yard.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Good to know all those years of sniffing poppers haven’t diminished your sense of smell. So, I guess one of us should change Hero's Pampers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(<i>Eliot
loudly reshuffles his cards.</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well, I guess one of us…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Aw Hail no! Maw-maw Eliot don’t change no Pampers.
You wanna get Gay-married? You best trot your tight little “actor ass” right
into that gas chamber and do your wifer-ly duty. Ha! I said “doodie”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Reluctantly,
Ron leaves the stage. <br />
Eliot lays back on the couch, hand on forehead in a swoon</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>in a
Scarlet O’Hara drawl</i>) I am like to die from these vapors.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(<i>Off-stage,
baby cries</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>off-stage</i>)
Oh my God, Hero! It’s like (<i>gagging</i>)
Chernobyl. Oh…my…God! The humanity!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>making
a fan out of cards, fans himself. Still in Scarlet O’Hara drawl</i>) What did
you expect, Honey? Orange flower water?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>coughing
and gagging throughout</i>) Just hang in there little girl. Almost got this clean
one on ya. One more tape. Phew! Ok, hang tight, Hero. Stay right here in your car seat. Be back in a minute. Uncle Ron-Ron is just gonna go to the kitchen and warm up a bottle
of formula for you. Ok?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(<i>baby crying
continues</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>Re-enters
the stage, breathless, pinching his nose and carrying a “used” Pampers diaper</i>) How do I
dispose of toxic sludge? Oh I know. I have Ziplock baggies in the kitchen. (<i>exits the other side of stage</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yellow and blue make green! See how useful I
am? (<i>Annoyed by the constant crying</i>) So
am I supposed to just sit here and listen to all this caterwaulin’? Stone-cold sober?
Ron Honey, do something about the baby. Hello? Oh my dear Lord. (<i>exits to bedroom to attend to baby</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(<i>Ron returns
to an empty stage.</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Bottle's on low. Will you check the temperature in a few....<i> (Notices Eliot is gone. Cell phone vibrates in his pant pocket.)</i> Hello? James! Hi Gorgeous. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>off-stage</i>)
What is the problem in here little girl? Is that any way for a superhero to
carry on? Well I would not want to be stuck in a car seat all day, neither. Alright, let me unstrap ya. Come on up here to your Maw-maw Eliot. Yes, that’s a good girl. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Hero’s great! She’s in the bedroom right now
with Eliot. You remember my best friend Eliot? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Eliot:</b> </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">Shoosh now. Maw-maw Eliot wants to sing you a little Gospel hymn she learned at Vacation Bible School. <i>(busts out </i></span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">singing, imitating Lady Gaga.)</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> That’s right Baby, I was born this way…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Ron:</b> Right, Bourbon Pub Eliot. He just loves babies.
But not as much as I do! What’s all that noise? Oh, he’s singing her a lullaby.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> (</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>off-stage, singing full volume, getting into it) <br />
</i>Don't hide yourself in regret<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Just love yourself and you're set<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm on the right track, baby<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was born this way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>(baby crying increases to a wail)</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh, Hero’s been a total angel. Hasn’t cried
once since you dropped her off. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(<i>Baby crying
abruptly ends with the sound of infant projectile vomit.</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh my dear Lord!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Well, it's not like I don't know nothin' bout watchin' no babies. Ha. I used to be a baby. Some people would argue I still am one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(<i>Eliot enters with a slash of baby vomit up
the downstage side of his shirt, possibly dripping from his cheek and hair.</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> (<i>horrified</i>)
No! I mean, Hail no, she’s been no trouble at all. I am more than happy to keep an
eye on Hero for you. Anytime</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">, James</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I hate you so much. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> A family outing? Yeah, I’d love that. Ok,
we'll talk about it after your meeting. Oh right, of course. Sure, we’ll be fine until
then. Enjoy coffee with your sponsor.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Vermouth please.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yes,</span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;">I’ll give Hero a kiss for you. Bye James. </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(Torn
between the lingering bliss of the phone call, his best friend’s distress, and
the unattended wailing baby in the bedroom)</i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Oh my God, Hero! </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(Rushes to bedroom) </i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Uh Eliot, help
yourself. Kitchen! Fridge!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Eliot
exits to the kitchen.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(off-stage,
sings beautifully, slowly, lulling Hero to sleep)</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I need a hero.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I'm holding out for a hero til the end of the night.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And she's gotta fast, and she's gotta be strong.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">And she's gotta be fit for the fight</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I need a hero...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px;"><i>(stops singing)</i> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">sssshhh.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> That's my little superhero. Yeah, just close those sweepy wittle eyes...oh so sweepy...shhhhh...Yes, that's a good girl. Uncle Ron-Ron will be right back.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Ron
and Eliot both return to the stage, Eliot carrying a Mardi Gras cup of straight
Vermouth)<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(frazzled)</i> Oh, Eliot, thank God you had the presence
of mind to strap Hero back into her car seat before you...after she...before you left the bedroom. So
she’s not rolling around on top of my bed and possibly...fall. James would hate that. Is that straight Vermouth?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Shut up your mouth, I am getting drunk.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Can I get drunk too?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <u>You</u> cannot get drunk, not around baby
princess butter bomb. It’s not safe for both of us to get drunk. And right now, I have dibs on the Vermouth.
You are the babysitter. Hero relies on you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I am not someone people should rely on! I
never have been. You said it yourself, no emotional commitment!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ron! <i>(beat)</i>
<u>This</u> is what I was talking about. Right now. You’re scared. You got
a glimpse at real life, and now you’re scared. That part’s perfectly normal,
especially for new parents. I’m not saying you’re ready to jump into being a
parent, not yet. But the way you feel right now, every new parent feels that way.
Frankly, nobody in the world ought to be relied on. But babies make you step
up. When you have a baby, you have to become that person, someone who can be
relied on. Someone who’s in it for the long haul. You have no other choice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <i>(beat) </i>Um...right. Right! So…uh…you were pretty natural in there with Hero, until the uh...incident. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Eliot:</b> Well, I can hardly blame her. I've been known to experience the occasional "incident" myself, now and then. <i>(Puts aside the Vermouth.)</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Ron:</b> Our own, jaded Eliot Dearest might actually have the maternal instinct after all, underneath that hard shell--once you
scrape off the patina of bar smoke. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Ha. Ha. Well, I pretty much parent you, don’t
I?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Ron:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Yes you do. And for that, Maw-maw Eliot, I
am grateful. Thank you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Eliot:</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> You are very welcome, Uncle Ron-Ron.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><i>(Baby crying
starts again. Sighing, they both exit to the bedroom, singing "I Need a Hero".)</i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">(Ron runs back onstage and crosses to the kitchen exit.)</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><b>Ron: </b> Oh crap! The bottle!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">END</span></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-77205650576427825702013-02-14T21:24:00.001-06:002013-03-25T17:54:07.935-05:00Revolving Closet Door<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cast:</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ron, age
20s-30s, any race. Gay. A Leading Man type.<b><br />
</b>Eliot, same, except more of a Side-kick.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Location:</b> Ron’s living room, present day.
There is a couch (or 2 chairs side-by-side) off center.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Props:</b> none.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Ron hurries onstage, pursued by Eliot.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>:<b> </b> Wait, wait! You can’t just tell me a thing like that and then rush out of the room! Ron, stop!</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Ron stops.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>:<b> </b> Ok, so you’re telling me that you want to go back IN to the closet, is that right? You can’t go back in, Ron, not after all the struggle to come out in the first place. In my whole life, I have never met anyone who already knew the hard-won, sweet taste freedom, of self-acceptance, of honesty, but then decided to go back in. Closets don’t have revolving doors, you know.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>:<b> </b> Don’t think of it that way. I’m not going back into the closet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: You just said you don’t want to be Gay anymore. How am I supposed to think about it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>:<b> </b> I mean, Eliot, maybe I’m not really Gay in the first place?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: So all those times you swallowed cock, that didn’t mean you were Gay?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: I’m just thinking, I’m an actor. You know? Everyone around me’s Gay. Maybe I just wanted to fit in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: We all know what you wanted to fit in. You and I did it, a hundred years ago, remember? Besides, not everyone in theater is Gay.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Musical theater?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Ha ha. What the hell, Ron?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: I just think maybe I never was really Gay in the first place. In the theater world, everyone around me is smart, funny, and homosexual. And I just wanted to be one of the guys, that’s all. But now I want to be my real self.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: How does that work? How do you stop being who you are?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: You’re not listening, Eliot! I’m not really Gay. I just thought I was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Oh? So then, how do you know you’re not? This I gotta hear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: So recently I started dating this woman. We’re getting kinda serious.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: What?! When did you start dating a…a…woman?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: We met at the temp job. Her name is Rachel. She’s a contract copyeditor.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Ron shows a picture of her in his wallet. She is not attractive.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Ouch. Um…ok. So…how long have you two dated? And why is this the first I’ve ever heard about your “serious” relationship…hello?...with a woman? Hello! Best friend over here!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Cuz I knew what a judgmental queen you’d be. Rachel and I have been dating a few weeks now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: A few? How many is a few? 15 weeks? 2?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Altogether, we’ve been dating 5 weeks. Like I said, it’s getting kinda serious. There’s been talk of the “m” word.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: <i>(chokes)</i> So you just started dating this…uh…Rachel woman, five weeks ago. And that makes you not Gay. Have you guys ever…? I mean, can you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Not that it’s any business of yours, but yes. Not often, but we do enjoy a happy sex life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Does Rachel think it’s a happy sex life?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: She loves me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: I see. Five weeks, and there’s already talk of marriage and love. Are you sure Rachel’s not a lesbian?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Bitch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: So…what? You fuck her, but imagine fucking guys?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Why, you game?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Please Mary, that ship sailed a thousand years ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: We don’t fuck. But there’s things we can do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: What, oral? First off, ew. Second off, oral sex is totally the retreat of the closeted Gay man. Dick ain't hard? That’s ok, you can always satisfy her with your tongue. Did I mention “ew”?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Rachel understands that I am trying to change to a healthier, normal heterosexual lifestyle. She says she can be patient. She’s happy with whatever we do, for now. As our relationship progresses, we’ll enjoy more complete union…eventually.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: So basically, you admit you are Gay, but just don’t want to be?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: No, Eliot. I’m just out of practice with women.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Straight guys don’t need practice to get it up with women. That’s why we call them “straight”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Rachel says she wants to help me recover from my previous sick lifestyle and become a normal heterosexual again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Oh! So Gay is sick, is it? I’m sick? Abnormal? Is that right?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: No, no, no I don’t mean you’re sick or Gay is sick. It’s just sick to pretend to be something I’m not. Not really.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Ron, you are Gay! You’re not pretending. You might be a “fairly” good actor, but you’re not that good. Your CD collection has Celine Dion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Lots of straight people like Celine Dion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: No. They don’t.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Rachel likes Celine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Well then, by all means marry her. Before some other Gay guy sweeps her off her feet. I hear that Michael Buble’s in the market for a beard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: I believe that Rachel and I can live a healthy heterosexual lifestyle together, if we try.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: This is about AIDS, isn’t it?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Ok, I am concerned about that, yes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Concerned? Richard tested positive. And now you’re so fuckin’ scared you caught it from your ex-boyfriend that you’ll just stop being Gay over it. Lock yourself up in a love-less, sex-less, passion-less, air-less box. Where no virus can ever touch you. But no joy either. No life!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Thanks for being an understanding, supportive best friend.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: I am being supportive, by telling you the truth. You can’t turn off Gay! All you can do is return to a life of secrets. How long do you think you can hold out before you have to act on your natural urges? Start sneaking around public urinals, rest stops on the highway, waterfront parks? One minute you’re Mister Happy Heterosexual, the next you’re tapping your foot in the airport bathroom. Lots of people get hurt in the process. Like Little Miss What’s Her Fuck.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Rachel.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Whatevs. If AIDS has you so worried, then you should be more worried about being in the closet. Don’t you get it? It’s you closeted guys who are at biggest risk of infection, and of passing it on. Closeted guys take all kinds of risks within the “safety blanket” of anonymity. You know what happens inside bars like the Rawhide and Phoenix. Chock full of married “straight” guys on the down-low. Ron, you’re not running from AIDS. You’re running to it. Why would you want to expose an unsuspecting, innocent woman to that shit?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: It won’t be like that. Besides, Rachel knows about my past.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: She knows you’re Gay, but she wants to marry you anyway? Uh dude, that’s fucked up right there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: I told her I am bisexual and now want to live a normal heterosexual lifestyle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Stop saying normal. There is no such thing. And stop saying lifestyle. Heterosexual is no more a lifestyle than Gay. You’re one thing, or the other. And some people are Bi, although you’re not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Rachel understands me and wants to help.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Oh my fucking God! Save us all from homely, desperate women! Want a man so bad they go after the Gays. Thinking they can switch us over to their team. But that has never, ever worked. Not really. Look at Calvin Klein! And here you are, feeding her delusions with your own delusions of “bisexuality”. Dude, don’t do this. You would just be playing another role. Putting on another mask. Although at this point, I’m not sure if it’s the mask of Tragedy or Comedy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: We’re talking about moving to Arizona after the wedding, where nobody knows us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: You mean, where nobody knows <u>you</u>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Eliot, you’re just mad because you’re still in love with me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: What the fuck?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: You have always wanted to be with me. But put that out of your mind. Don't fantasize about what a compatible couple we would make, or how everybody already thinks we're a couple anyway, how good it might feel, how we're always there for each other...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Uh, who's loving who?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Put that out of your mind. And try not to be jealous, even though you just can’t stand to see me genuinely happy with a woman.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Ron, dearest, our thing lasted like a minute. A thousand years ago. Ever since, I have never been anything but your friend. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: With the exception of that one Mardi Gras we took Ecstasy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: But lotsa boyfriends between then and now. I would totally continue to be a supportive friend, as I have for the past…million years, to see you genuinely happy with another man. Hell, I’d throw the bachelor party. Male strippers from the Corner Pocket, Jell-O shots, color-coordinated invitations </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tastefully </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">laser-printed with a sans-serif font.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: Rachel’s brother will be my best man.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Ouch. So…what? You’d rather take a stranger—excuse me, the stranger’s brother, to stand as your best man? Instead of me, your best friend since the Dawn of Time? Who talks you off the ledge whenever Southern Rep fails to give you a callback, after you prepared so hard for the big role? Who pretends to be your date whenever old trolls hit on you at the Pub? Who sat right there on your couch, held your hand, and cried with you when Lady Sybil died on Downton Abbey?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: That was sad. So now you do want to attend my “sham” wedding after all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Are you kidding? I love seeing you in theater!</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Ron tries to leave in a huff.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: We’re not done talking about this. Ron Lewis Livingston, I will call your mother!</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Ron stops.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Now come on. Sit down.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(They sit on couch.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Talk to me. Seriously, what is all this melodrama really about?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: I told you already.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Yeah, all this time I’ve been your friend, you’ve secretly been a straight man. But this time, tell the truth. Why the hell do you want to do something so drastic? Marry someone you just met? Leave town? Frankly, you’re freaking my shit out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: <i>(losing it) </i>Um, ok. Listen. Eliot, I’m unhappy! There, I said it. Alright? I have been for a long time. All my life even. I feel sad. A lot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Well that’s no big secret. You’re an actor. Newsflash! <i>(pretending to shout through a megaphone)</i> “Actors have big emotions!” You’ll ride out this mood, like you always do. Until the next big role comes along, and you get all caught-up in the excitement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: This isn’t just a mood swing, Eliot. I’m lonely! All the time. So terribly, terribly lonely.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Well that has nothing to do with being Gay. Welcome to the human condition! You think I’m not lonely? You think straight people aren’t lonely, even married ones? Rachel? Honey, that girl is lonely.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: <i>(crying)</i> I thought when I came out, the Gay time, that I wouldn’t be so lonely anymore. That the hungry, unquenchable maw would be satisfied. Each time I met a new boyfriend, had sex, for a time I wasn’t lonely. But it never lasted. Long before we broke up, I’d already feel the loneliness coming on again, wedging itself between us. Sometimes I was lonelier IN the relationship that out of it. With someone, but lonelier despite of it. Or because of it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: I know, Honey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: I just want to feel connected, you know? I just want…I need the silent screaming in my brain to stop, once and for all. I need my heart to quit tearing itself out of my chest. I don’t want my soul to continue this slow, protracted dying anymore. I reach out, but no one answers my grasp.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: I know, Honey. You’re lonely. We’re all lonely. That’s the big dirty secret of life, Ron. Everybody is lonely.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: I just want a chance at happiness with someone else.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: I know. But this is not the way. Don’t marry someone out of loneliness, someone you hardly know, who you’re not really attracted to, and who tells you things she thinks you want to hear. Don’t call that happiness. That’s desperation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Ron</b>: But I am desperate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: No. You’re not. You deserve better. And I want better for you, my friend.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(They share an intimate moment. Ron takes it too far.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: Stop that. Ew! You are so not straight. <i>(shoves Ron away)</i> Told’ja.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Ron teases Eliot with tickle fingers, as Eliot springs up from couch.)</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Eliot</b>: I mean it, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ron. S</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">top that! Ew! Ron Lewis Livingston! I will call your mother!</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Eliot rushes from room, pursued by Ron's tickle fingers.)</span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">End</span></b></div>
<br />Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-78243601986861504202013-01-25T15:36:00.003-06:002013-01-28T16:18:26.312-06:00The Golden Apple<b style="text-indent: 0in;">Characters:</b><br />
Warrior Woman
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mature Woman<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sexy Woman<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Time:</b> 3pm Sunday<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Location:</b> Lobby of a theater<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Situation:</b> 3 blonde actresses audition for big-time director, Mister Paris.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Props:</b> Warrior Woman and Mature Woman both have headshots. Sexy Woman has no headshot.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman: </b>You call this a callback? This is a fucking cattle call! There must be at least 40 actresses in the lobby! All blondes!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b><i>(interrupted during vocal warm-ups)</i><b> </b>Darling I<b> </b>assure you, hardly none of them are natural. <i style="text-indent: -1.1in;">(indicating someone in the audience)</i><b style="text-indent: -1.1in;"> </b>I’m pretty confident that one’s a transvestite.<i>(resumes vocal warm-ups)</i></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman: </b>Some of these bitches weren't even here for the first round!<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>Sexy Woman: </b><i>(interjecting herself into conversation)</i><b> </b>This is my first audition. Ever.<b> <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b><i>(inspecting the competition)</i><b> </b>What's that, Dear?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Sexy Woman: </b>I met this guy at the bar where I work. Well I just started working there. Part-time, mostly slow nights like Monday and Tuesday, a few days. But I hope to pick up a weekend shift soon. Anyway, this guy told me he's a director, and he's casting talented actresses to be in his new play he wrote. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b>Wait a minute. You met “the” Troy Paris, multiple winner of the Big Easy, Storer Boone, Marquee and even a couple frickin' Ambi awards, at a bar? Was it Dino’s? Who was with him, anybody famous? Did they hit on you?<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>Sexy Woman: </b>Probably. He said the play is called “The Golden Apple, a tale of petty jealousies, passions gone awry, and self-sacrifices made in the name of love.” Wrote it himself. He says the lead female role could <u>make</u> an actress in New Orleans. Photo in the Langiappe <i>(pronounces it Lag-nee-</i>app<i>) </i>section of the paper. Big Easy something-or-other. Especially a fresh face, he says. An unknown, someone new in town like me, maybe a bit clueless about New Orleans theater, but chock full of pluck and vigor!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b><i>(to one of the other 40 blonde actresses walking by)</i><b> </b>Hey, this theater got a bar?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman: </b>So this is your first audition, ever? Then I take it, you did not graduate from a prestigious drama school, no? Where you would have auditioned for college productions. MFA? BA? BS?! You know, you won't get very far in New Orleans theater without a degree. Whereas, I have arduously applied myself to the study of “methods”, those of Stanislavski, Meisner…
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<b>Mature Woman:</b> Stella Adler! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman:</b> And the essays of Berthold Brecht. But you just waltz in here without so much as a resume or a headshot, with hair like golden fleece, body of a love goddess, and that rack, but no formal theater training at all? Stage Combat, Suzuki, Alexander Technique?<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>Mature Woman:</b> Yoga?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Sexy Woman: </b>I don't think so. I told the guy I didn't have any prior acting experience. But he said “oh anybody can act, guided by the right director.” Told me to show up here at the theater at 3pm Sunday. And I figured, I'm new in town. What’ve I got going, on a Sunday? So here I am!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b>Let me get this straight. Troy Paris is getting drunk at Dino’s and gets a gander at your pair of golden apples...<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman: </b>You know, maybe <u>Mister</u> Paris does not make casting decisions based on bust size. I mean, maybe Paris is Gay? No, think about it. He never has a girlfriend. He’s brilliant, handsome, accomplished, but he’s always seen at public events in the company of much older, matronly women. Mothers of his friends.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b>What? A Gay man working in theater? Surely you are joking.<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman: </b>Maybe he's closeted.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b>A closeted Gay man, working in theater, in New Orleans? Why bother being closeted?<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b>Sexy Woman: </b>I know, right? Come out, come out, where ever you are!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Mature Woman decides she likes Sexy Woman after all.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman: </b>Whether or not Mister Paris is a closeted Gay, my point is, casting is not supposed to be about surface-level appearances, a beauty contest. It's supposed to be about training, rigorous self-examination, commitment to research, and strict adherence to craft. Besides, any actress can be made to look beautiful in the right costume, make-up, lighting.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b>Ha, training! Research! What about ability? Natural talent? Or how ‘bout this one: Good judgment tempered by years of experience? Or just plain ol’ stick-to-itiveness. They say 98 percent of success is just showing up. And my ass has shown up to every audition in every kind of venue all over the Gulf South, from Ty Tracy to True Brew to the Saenger. Every black box, backroom bar, art gallery, storefront, and even a couple park benches. Haven’t I seen it all? Nevermind. The few juicy parts always go to the young. New Orleans directors have a prejudice for youth, or haven’t you noticed? "Oh, it's hard to find mature actors. Mature actors don’t come to auditions unless you personally invite them, and not even then. Blah blah." Hello Troy Paris! Mature actress right here at your callback audition! <i>(to Sexy Woman) </i>Although not too mature to still play the ingénue…the ingénue’s best friend? Well, in the right costume, make-up, and lighting!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman: </b>For audio drama?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman: </b>I'm sorry. Did somebody say something? No, I'm serious as a heart attack! New Orleans directors prefer the young, even to the point of absurdity. Case in point, I recently attended a staging of a classic Greek play.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman:</b> Let me guess. Set in post-Katrina New Orleans?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman:</b> Ugh!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Warrior Woman:</b> <i>(shouting)</i> Attention everyone, moratorium on setting Western canon plays in post-Katrina New Orleans!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Mature Woman:</b> <i>(throaty laugh) </i>For true. So in this staging of the classic Greek play, the elderly men of Thrace are played by boys wearing dirty loin-clothes. Teenagers, who all dutifully grimaced their faces into the mask of Tragedy and bent their spines forward. You know, to indicate osteoporosis. Cuz old men totally get osteoporosis, right? Especially in ancient Thrace. Even old guy parts are played by kids, in old guy make-up!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Sexy Woman: </b><span style="text-indent: -1.1in;">Isn't that the sort of thing you do in college theater?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman: </b><span style="text-indent: -1.1in;">Well, they are kinda stuck in college theater mode.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman: </b><span style="text-indent: -1.1in;">Shit. I make a more convincing old man!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Sexy Woman: </b><i style="text-indent: -1.1in;">(trying out the phrase for the first time)</i><span style="text-indent: -1.1in;"> For true! Oh, I mean, it seems to me, we all have an equal shot at the part. Brand new to acting or well-seasoned. Formally trained or talented amateur. Whoever Mister Paris offers the Golden Apple to, he must be looking for something very specific and just hasn’t found her yet. I mean, 40 blonde actresses?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman:</b><span style="text-indent: -1.1in;">I know. I feel like I’m auditioning for John Derek. </span><i style="text-indent: -1.1in;">(Other 2 women don’t know who she means) </i><span style="text-indent: -1.1in;">You have no idea.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in; text-indent: 0in;">
<i>They notice another actress exiting the theater.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman:</b> Wow! She’s out already? That must have been the world’s shortest audition. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman:</b> Oh I know her. She’s Equity. Gets to audition early, before all the rest of us non-Equity losers. Look at that brave smile. She’ll be boo-hoo-ing in the parking lot.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Sexy Woman:</b> Getting in early didn't seem to help her any, if that really was the world’s shortest audition.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman:</b> Are you kidding? She barely had time to say “Good afternoon, Mister Paris. My name is—Thanks! We’ll let you know.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman: </b>I could have been Equity. I had the points, a couple times over. But I figure, Equity’s great if you want to tour or work anyplace outside New Orleans. But as you get a little older, settle into life, fall into sync with the rhythms of New Orleans, touring loses its appeal. New York? L.A.? Why struggle to start again in a foreign place? New Orleans is home. Everything I need, I got right here. And for me, well, Equity limits my options.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman: </b>I’m an Equity Candidate.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman: </b>Of course you are. <i>(explaining to Sexy Woman)</i> That means she gets 2 asterixes by her name in the program. And a footnote, “Appears courtesy of Actors Equity Association.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman:</b> I think Equity Candidate is the best of both possible worlds. You get access to Equity-only auditions. You get the asterixes and the footnote, which do confer a certain legitimacy. But you’re not restricted from working non-union jobs or have to use a stupid fake name. So I <u>can</u> do that sweetheart community theater project with those hipster kids from that grant-laden performance art group with the actor-driven development and rehearsal process.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman:</b> Oh sure, I saw some of their stuff at Fringe Festival. You could tell the process was actor-driven. Each of the actors was in their own play. It’s was like watching 6 or 7 different plays for the price of one admission. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Sexy Woman:</b> THAT sounds like college theater.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman:</b> Me, I like a director with a single, unified vision. The ability to tell a story in multiple dimensions with control and…well, vision. Not too many of those around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman:</b> For true. There are plenty of directors who can do blocking. But they never get around to talking about character development, scene objectives and obstacles, plot points, beats, pacing, story arc. I have been directed lots. But I have met very few <u>directors</u>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Sexy Woman:</b> Is Mister Paris a visionary director?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in; text-indent: 0in;">
<i>Mature Woman and Warrior Woman consider it.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman:</b> Well, he likes to think so.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Sexy Woman:</b> So if you don’t really admire the director, then why are you auditioning for him?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman:</b> I told you. I audition for everything. Well, everything I think I got a shot at. Lately I try to avoid the “mother” roles, but aim more for like “concerned lesbian neighbor.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman:</b> I tend to be a bit more selective. I audition only for plays that have some redeeming social value, moral implications. Projects that open up dialog. Or just because I want to work with certain other actors who are my friends or at a venue that’s new to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman:</b> Regardless, one play is not going to make-or-break an actress in New Orleans. What matters is a body of work. Theater is not one-play-at-a-time. Theater is a life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Sexy Woman:</b> Then how does a new actress build a life in theater, if there are so few juicy roles for women?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman: </b>Unfortunately, sister-women do tend to wage war amongst ourselves over the few juicy roles out there. Petty jealousies, gossipy back-stabbing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman:</b> Total bitches.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman:</b> Instead, we should create more theater opportunities for women, ourselves. Write our own Golden Apples. Self-produce, direct, and <u>attend</u> for Goddess sake! We should push female perspectives onto stages and into the world.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Sexy Woman: </b>Ok!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman: </b>So what are you working on…for the cause?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman: </b>Currently, I am writing a collection of short performance pieces called the Regina Monologues.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman: </b>Darling, excuse me? Say that again.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Warrior Woman: </b>Re-gi-na Monologues. First-person monologues from the point-of-view of Queen Elisabeth the first of England. Each monologue reflects her different moods, her shifting—even conflicting! —perspectives. So far my favorites are Angry Regina and…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>Mature Woman: </b><i>(interrupting)</i><b> </b>Oh crap, here comes Paris! Darling, I’d love to hear more—some other time—about your fascinating Regina project. Break legs with that, please. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in; text-indent: 0in;">
<i>Mature Woman and Warrior Woman both hold their headshots before them and smile. Seeing this, Sexy Woman (who has no headshot) presents her breasts more prominently and smiles, posing provocatively. Seeing that, the first 2 women consider for a beat, and then also present their breasts prominently and smile even harder as the director walks by.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<b>3 Women in chorus:</b> Good afternoon, Mister Paris!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.25in 1.1in; text-indent: -1.1in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Fade to black</b><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-26603222436455444092012-12-22T14:16:00.001-06:002013-03-25T18:00:29.694-05:00The First Actor<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Characters:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Thespis,</b> a Leading
Man<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Glaucus,</b> a member
of the Chorus<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Time:</b> 6th
century B.C.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Location:</b> Ancient
Greece. Backstage at Athens Amphitheater. 10 minutes until Curtain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(Enters from wing, calling off-stage)</i>
Thank you, Ten!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(Enters from opposite side as Glaucus, doing
vocal warm-up exercises...culminating with)</i> drrrrach-ma. drach-MAH!
DRACH-mah.<br />
<b style="text-indent: -0.6in;"><br /></b>
<b style="text-indent: -0.6in;">Glaucus:</b><span style="text-indent: -0.6in;"> Stop worrying, Thespis. You will give
an Olympian performance tonight. And if that fails, you can always rely on your
lovely face.</span><br />
<br />
<b>Thespis:</b> But I
will be wearing a mask.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> Even wearing the mask of Tragedy,
your unique qualities shine through, my boy. Like a star in the heavens! No
doubt, after tonight’s performance, Zeus himself will reserve a spot in the
night sky for your soul to sparkle when you die.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> Does my face look lovelier when I speak in this
direction, <i>(turns head)</i> or facing
this direction?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> Where
will your audience be? Speak in the direction of their ears.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> But what
if I misspeak, Glaucus?! What if tonight, in front of all the free citizens of Athens,
I, Thespis of Icaria, flub history’s first line? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>(Groups of
women and men are arriving for the show.)</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> Welcome
to Athens Amphitheater, my ladies, sirs. Have you come to see tonight's Choral performance?
Most excellent. We have a very special treat for you tonight. <i>(to Thespis)</i> See how the nymphs and even
the satyrs...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> Satyrs! <i>(Leading man smile, as if for the
camera.)</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> ...much
admire your comely good looks. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> But is
god-like beauty enough, Glaucus? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b>I said <u>good </u>looks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis: </b>I don’t
want to be known merely as a mythical physique, an Adonis. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(under breath)</i> Narcissus more like.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> I want to be remembered, nay Glaucus, celebrated,
for my skill as …as an…what do we call this? Is it choric refrain anymore? With
only one singer? We don’t even have a name for this in Greek. Am I really the
first...ever…to try this?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> In my
knowledge, dear Thespis, which admittedly is not so vast as your own, I have
never before heard of a Chorus member attempting a solo. Since the dawn of Chronos,
there has always been a Chorus. We are the necessary foundation of a story well
told. How else would the audience know the playwright’s meaning? Without the Chorus
to explain it to them? In song? But never before has a single member of the Chorus
stepped forward, by himself, under his own spot of torchlight, and spoken in
the voice of another man or acted out the deeds of another man or pretended <u>to be</u> another. Indeed Thespis, this is a
new kind of theater.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> How does
one person pretend to be another?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b>Hmm…alright, let us start with your
name.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> Surely
you know me, Glaucus. We have sung together the stories of gods and heroes in wildly dithyrambic refrain for 8 years.
Thespis. Of Icaria.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b>Dear Zeus. Yes, I do know you,
Thespis, my boy. Now introduce yourself as the person you pretend to be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> Oh! Of
course. Right! <i>(grabs Glaucus by the forearm
in a Greco-Roman handshake. Casually introduces himself as if to a business
associate.)</i> I am Pericles.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b>You are? Really? Is this how a statesman,
an orator, a general of Thrace greets his warriors?!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> I am Pericles?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b>Mean it. Again!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> I am
Pericles!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b>More authority! Again!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> I am
Pericles! I am Pericles!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b><i>(tents
fingertips together and nods) </i>Goooooood. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis: </b>This will instill fear and respect for
Pericles in the audience.<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b>Not the
audience. The armies of Thrace. If you pretend to be Pericles, then pretend to
stand where Pericles stands. <i>(turns
Thespis by the shoulders toward audience.)</i> On a hilltop, above the valley
where Thracian warriors have assembled to receive his command.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> Yes, I
see. And then, I shall roar like a fearsome lion. <i>(roars)</i> To ensure fear and respect in the audience...<i>(catching on)</i> armies of Thrace!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(beat)</i> I like where you are going. Choose
something else.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>(Thespis
struggles to come up with a new idea.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> For
example, draw your sword, thus. Instead of roaring like an actual lion, speak
your line…with a roar in your voice!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(draws sword)</i> I…Am…Pericles!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus: </b>It makes me shudder. You are so real. There
should be a name for what you can do, Thespis. Let us see...you pretend to be
another person. You imitate or mimic the words and actions of a character in a
story. Thus you are a pretender? An imitator? History's first mimicker? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> No, I
don't like the implied guile of pretender. What about charmer? Because I charm the
audience into believing that I am Pericles. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> Good
evening, ladies. Yes, many good seats left. Just beyond the urinals there. Upwind,
I assure you! Thank you for supporting local theater! <i>(to Thespis)</i> Charmer sounds like spells and magic, a snake charmer.
A charlatan. What you do, Thespis, is Art.
And Craft. It requires Art, Craft, and a courageous heart to step
forward into the torchlight and stimulate our intellects, arouse our emotions,
stir our psyches with only your words and actions. You are the leading man of
the Chorus. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> Leading
man? <i>(beat)</i> No, that will never catch
on. Besides, will the audience accept me, Glaucus? Are they willing to accept
that I, Thespis, speak FOR Pericles? That I truly AM Pericles?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> <i>(ruminates)</i> That depends upon your
motivation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> My what?
What in the name of Melpomene is motivation?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b>
Motivation...is...? Ah! Motivation is “why are you talking? Why are you doing
such-and-such?” In real life, when we talk or do something, it is because we
want something. We are motivated to talk because we want something. Why does the
hero talk? What does the hero want that motivates him to say "I am
Testecles!" <i>(pronounced "testa-cleez")</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(raucous laughter)</i> The hero in this play
is named "Pe-ri-cles". Good thing I am chosen as history's first
"Leading Man". <i>(movie star
smiles to more passing satyrs)</i> Thank you for coming tonight. Stick around after the show.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> Quite true!
I have no mind for memorizing lines. I would flub history’s first line for sure
if I were standing in your sandals. I need the Chorus to back me up, to keep me
in line, in step with the group mind. Instead of a Leading Man like you, I am
your follower. Perhaps I could be history's first…uhh… Thespian?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> Brother,
you should be directing this whole show.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> What
would that make me then? A Director?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> No, a tyrant.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i>
<i>(They share
a knowing laugh.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> Speaking
of tyrants, Pericles wants to defeat a tyrant. That is his motivation. He
stands above the battlefield, addressing archers, spearmen, charioteers, and
common soldiers, trying to rouse them to righteous indignation against an evil
tyrant. Pericles appeals to their clan pride as Thracians, in an attempt to motivate
<i>them</i> into fighting and <i>dying</i> for Thrace. When he says “I am Pericles!”,
he is declaring, “Pericles has arrived! Let the fight begin!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> And this
is motivation?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> If your
motivation is true to real life, if we recognize and sympathize, then yes, I
believe the audience will accept you as the hero.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis: </b>They are
lighting the torches. And calling Places. The flutes will start soon. How is my hair?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Glaucus:</b> Tousled.
Like a hero’s. Got your sword belt? Got your sword? Good and good. Ok, here
goes. Let us each put on our mask.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i>
<i>(They stand side-by-side. Both solemnly pull down a mask from atop
their heads. Glaucus is Comedy. Thespis is Tragedy. Actors may pantomime if no
actual masks are available.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis
and Glaucus in chorus: </b>Ahhhhhhh….<b> </b><i>(Glaucus
repeats chant over Thespis’ final line.)</i><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Thespis:</b> <i>(with a roar in voice)</i> I…Am…<i>(draws sword)</i>...Testa-cleez! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0in; text-indent: 0in;">
<i><br /></i>
<i>(Glaucus chokes on chant. He pulls up his mask. Now his face is Tragedy.
Thespis pulls up his mask. He is Comedy. Fade to blackout as the panting Thespis,
oblivious of his flub, turns to Glaucus for approval.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-55308367337846701022012-01-17T07:22:00.004-06:002013-12-31T16:09:18.436-06:0040 Years of New Year's Eves<i>“Every man regards his own life as the New Year’s Eve of time.”</i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">- Jean Paul Richter</span></i></div>
<br />
Characters:<br />
<div class="MsoTitle">
1 male. Un-named. Any age, so long as he portrays the transition from age 1 to age 40.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Note on the dialog:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The dialog includes the preceding numerals, for example “Nine. Dad, how come there’s another New Years Eve every year?”<br />
_______________________________________________________</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(<i>announce</i>) Forty years of New Year’s Eves!<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
1. (<i>Infant in mother’s arms, noisily nursing. Drops bottle</i>.) Waaa Waaa Waaa (<i>Finds bottle and resumes nursing</i>.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
2. Mama, Ha Pa Noo Yoo! (<i>baby kisses, nose rubbing, and giggles</i>.) Dada, Ha Pa Noo Yoo!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
3. (<i>trying to say it correctly, from memory</i>) Mommy and Daddy, Happy New Year Eve. (<i>blow kisses</i>) I love you very very much. (<i>curtsies</i>)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
4. Mom, watch! Mom! Dad! Watch me! (<i>sings</i>) Should old acquaintance we forgot, and never more to roam. Should old acquaintance, we forgot, (<i>struggles to remember</i>) and old lang zine! (<i>end singing</i>) Did you watch? Mom, did you see me? I’ll do it over again. Mom, watch!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
5. Dad, what’s mistletoe for? (<i>starts to cry</i>) I don’t want to kiss no girl!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
6. (<i>playing with dolls</i>) Happy New Years Eve to you, Miss Barbie. You look beautiful tonight in your long dress and high-heel-ded shoes. You look so pretty. I want to kiss you on your boobies. Mwah! Why thank you, Ken. You look handsome. Ken, you are the handsomest man in the whole land. You look so handsome. I want to kiss you on your pee pee. Mwah! Oh Ken…kiss kiss kiss.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
7. What's a New Years resolution? (<i>looks to either parent</i>) What’s a resolution <span style="color: #b6d7a8;">mean</span>? (<i>Listens until it becomes clear. Starts to cry</i>) But I don’t want to stop playing Barbies!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
8. (<i>playing with different dolls</i>) G.I. Joe, Help! Save me from the evil Spiderman before it’s too late! Oh help! Don’t you worry, Stretch-Arm-Strong, I’ll save you! Oh thank you, G.I. Joe. You have saved my life. Now I have to show you thanks. Mwah! Oh G.I. Joe…kiss kiss kiss. Yeah, Stretch-Arm-Strong, I like it when you kiss like that. Hi, I’m evil Spiderman. but I’m not really evil. Can I thank you too, G.I. Joe?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
9. Dad, how come there’s always another New Year's Eve every year? Isn’t every day the same? <span style="color: #444444;">It’s l</span><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">L</span>ike a birthday? Who’s birthday is it? The <u>year’s</u> birthday?? Oh. Is that why you always drink so much beer on New Year<span style="color: #b6d7a8;">'s</span> Eve, like <span style="color: #b6d7a8;">you do</span> on my birthdays? I thought <span style="color: #444444;">we were</span> <span style="color: #b6d7a8;">you was</span> supposed to drink champagne on birthdays and New Year<span style="color: #b6d7a8;">'s</span>? Then when <u>will </u>I be old enough?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
10. Dear Diary, finally, I am old enough to stay up late and watch New Years Eve on the television. New Years Eve in New York City. But their clock up in New York is ahead of New Orleans by 2 hours. So really, I only get to stay up until 10 o’clock here. But that’s ok. 10 o'clock is still way later than I ever stay up. Daddy told me I get to watch the ball drop. He says he'll let me sip my first taste of beer. "Pretend it's the champagne of beers." Ugh. If champagne tastes like Budweiser, I hate it. I never want to get drunk.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
11. New Year’s resolution, I will never get stupid, falling down drunk like my dumb jerk dad, and then fight with my mom, and embarrass my son in front of all the neighbors. New Years Eve is supposed to be about starting over fresh. Not drowning disappointments in alcohol and acting all selfish, like an jackass. (<i>looks out window</i>) Terrific, now here comes the cops! Um..that cop looks kinda like G.I. Joe.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
12. After that whole mess last year with my dad and the cops, it’s nice of your parents to let me sleep over for New Years Eve. I don’t know why my dad has to get so drunk every year. Like it’s our job to make him happy. He’s not happy, so everybody around him has to be un-happy too. New Years is dumb. I hate New Years Eve. Oh wait, turn up the TV, here it comes! Four…three…two…one! Happy New Year! (<i>surprised by a kiss</i>) Max! Boys don’t kiss boys! (<i>but likes it</i>) </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
13. (<i>on the phone</i>) Hey Max, what are you up to this fine New Years Eve? Nothing, me too. Yeah, my dad’s up to his usual. Mom’s all mad. Man, I really need a smoke. Well, just called to wish you Happy New Year Max. Wish I could come over there.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
14. New Years resolution. I resolve to never smoke another cigarette. I mean it, Max! You are a bad influence on me. REAL bad. I mean, you’re my best friend and all. But, you know... Smoking’s bad and gives you lung cancer. And you smell. All in my clothes and my hair. Teeth look brown. (<i>testing Max’s reaction</i>) And no <u>girls</u> ever want to kiss you on New Years Eve. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
15. (<i>sigh</i>) Wish Max still lived in New Orleans. Sucks his family had to move to Memphis. Now I’m stuck alone with my dumb family for another dumb New Years Eve. I should be out with my friends. Or a girlfriend, if I had one. (<i>watches TV</i>) Finally, here goes the ball. Four…three…two…one. (<i>to no one</i>) Happy New Year. Yeah. Whatever. Man, wish I had a smoke.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
16. (<i>writing in journal</i>) Dear Future Reader, I write this New Year’s Eve journal entry to keep a record of myself for future eyes. I am only 16 years old, but know I will not live beyond the age of 30. Or rather I should say, I don’t want to.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
After the epic life I will lead, why would I wish to watch my body become decrepit and my brain go senile at the age of 30. I mean, after I win <u>both</u> the National Book Award and Nobel Laureate for Literature—at age 25—what more is left to look forward to than decrepitude, senility, slow monotonous decomposition, and then finally, the grave. No no no! I resolve to spare myself that intolerable fate! On the Eve of the New Year when I am 30, at the stroke of midnight, I will commit ritualistic hippaku. Just like my heroine, Cho-Cho-San, I will plunge the hari-kari dagger deep into my gut. Only first, Future Reader, first I must find my own Lieutenant Pinkerton. My true love. <i>Un bel di vedremo!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
17. Hey. So your dad works with my dad? Michelle, right? Yeah, this party sucks, totally. New Year’s is for posers. I totally hate New Year’s Eve. Every year, the same crap. My dad gets super drunk, mom gets all mad, and then they fight. One year the cops came and…what? Mistletoe? (<i>looks up</i>) Oh right, mistletoe. (<i>nervous</i>) Who put that up there? Ha. Um, yeah totally, I kiss girls all the time! Who says I’m Gay? Your dad too? Well, that’s not true. Here, let us just step under this mistletoe right now, and I will show you who’s Gay. (<i>kisses girl. Doesn’t like it.</i>)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
18. (<i>on the phone</i>) Hi Michelle, I know it’s almost Midnight. Sorry to call you just before the ball drops. You can get back to the TV in a sec. Oh, my New Years is going ok. Sorry I couldn’t come over to your house. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Look, here’s the thing. You’ve been a great girlfriend this whole last year of high school. But…I wanna break up. Sorry, Michelle, sorry. Please don’t cry. I know it’s New Years Eve. I feel like a total jerk. But we’re both 18 now, both moving on. Graduated from high school, going away to different colleges. I’m going to Tulane. You’re going to Loyola. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Virginity? Michelle, you know I am saving myself for my wedding night. I told you I am not Gay! I wish people would stop saying that! Look, I know you’re sad because I’m dumping you and all on New Year’s Eve. It’s a crap-tacular thing to do. Truly, I do have feelings for you, Michelle. We will always be good friends. But New Years is all about new beginnings, fresh starts. And this year, I’m ready to start fresh.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
19. Ah 19! My first New Year’s Eve as an adult, living in a dorm room, away from my crap-tacular family. Woo frickin’ hoo! So whad’ya say, Michael, how ‘bout you and I share this bottle of cheap-ola champagne, maybe light some candles? So what about the rules? What’s a few candles? It’s not like you and I are a fire hazard. Come on, Michael. It’s New Years Eve, we’re in college, we have champagne and candles. Why don’t we experiment a little…?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
20. (<i>talking to self in hand mirror</i>) Two entire decades of my life are over, and Middle Age soon approaches. This is a good time to take stock. On this 20<sup>th</sup> New Year, this new beginning, I resolve to myself to be honest with myself about what I truly am. <u>Who</u> I truly am.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
21. (<i>back against the wall of a crowded bar</i>) My first New Year’s Eve inside a real Gay bar! Finally, I’m legal. Gay bars must card everybody. (<i>take in the place</i>) This is cool. Lights. Music. Kinda crowded. Lot of hot guys. Hi. Hot guys are staring at me. Hi. God, I feel like fresh meat tossed into the lion’s den.<br />
<br />
Oh hi, yeah, Happy New Year’s to you too! No, I’m here alone. Sure, I love champagne. But I’d prefer a screw…driver! (<i>giggles like a fool until surprised by a kiss!</i>) Oh my god. I am totally getting kissed by a HOT guy on New Year’s Eve! His face is so CUTE! And his cock! I can totally feel his bulge through his jeans. Yup, I am going for it. Totally. Anything he wants, he can have it. I will give it all up. This guy is the perfect guy for me. We totally have got to become boyfriends!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
22. (<i>sitting at the bar</i>) No, I hate New Years. Last year on New Year’s Eve, at this very same bar in fact, I met this total dickhead. Totally. Yeah, we dated a few times. Mostly we just fucked. He fucked me. Gave me my first STD. Scabies. Said he got ‘em from his cat! Scabies! What a dumb-ass dickhead. I rode the streetcar all the way downtown to the Parish STD clinic, got this prescription for Quell, and had to use this little nit-comb. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Whoops, too much information, right? Ha. I’m a little drunk. Hell, it’s New Years Eve! They also made me take this blood test. Well they didn’t make me. I just thought it was a good idea, under the circumstances, you know? Everything checks out OK, totally! But God, I felt like I dodged a bullet. You can see why I am not too eager to repeat last New Year’s Eve. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
So, you wanna leave here, maybe just hang out together at my place? I live nearby. Uh, sure, I have Beta-Max. Straight porn?! Uh, ok, if you bring one over. I only have Gay stuff. But really I was hoping we could just watch a romantic comedy, put up our feet, eat some popcorn, snuggle on the couch… Sure, we can stop by the video store on the way. (<i>sigh</i>) Ok, you pick out the video.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
23. (<i>writing in journal</i>) Dear Future Reader, finally, at the ripe age of 23, I have found True Love, my own Lieutenant Pinkerton, the man I have sought my whole long life. One year ago tonight, on New Year’s Eve, I met Mark, the man of my dreams. And I will never feel lonely again. Mark and I are soul-mates, even though we see each other only once every couple weeks or sometimes only once a month. Mark is a very busy man, a travelling salesman. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Midnight marks our one year anniversary. And although I drink alone tonight, I toast the anniversary for us both. After this blissful year, I have finally come to understand the meaning of “long-term relationship”, how love deepens over time. When we’re together, Mark and I can be truly honest with each other, really communicate. And he matches me passion for passion in the bedroom, on the couch, in the tub, or my favorite, the step-stool in the kitchen. With a love this strong, I know that Mark and I will always be together.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
24. (<i>on the phone</i>) Thanks for the invite, Michelle, but this year I think I’ll just stay home. Yeah, a mellow New Year for me. That’s ok every now and then. No, I’m fine. Really. Ok, I do get a little bluesy around New Years Eve. It was our anniversary, after all. Yes, it has been six months, but I am not ready to move on yet. Yes! I know Mark is married…to a woman. But if I have gained any wisdom in my 24 years on this Earth, it is that booty got its own logic. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
And besides, you and I both know the grieving process lasts as long as the relationship did. You’re sweet. I never got over you too, Sugar. But really, Mark and I were together a year-and-a-half. Shut up, we were TOGETHER for a year and a half! You think I can just get over a long-term relationship like that overnight? We’ve only been broken up six months. I still have a whole year more of grieving ahead of me before I move on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I am not being operatic! Well you can stop worrying about me, I am fine. I am not Cho-Cho San. I am not going to commit hari-kari. Alright, I promise! I resolve that I will not prank call Mark’s wife…again. Don’t judge me. Look, I will stay home and be a good boy and drink this bottle of champagne all by myself. Then this bottle of Jack Daniels. And maybe I’ll try to write something.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
25. (<i>slurry drunk at the bar</i>) This year I am treating myself like I deserve. That’s right, this year I am totally (<i>trying to quit saying that word</i>) only drinking the best! Champagne and Jack Daniels cocktails. (<i>kick it back, then order another</i> in a <i>Frenchie accent</i>) Mon ami, un autre Jacques Dani-el! My New Year’s resolution? (<i>raises glass</i>) I am totally going to stop saying totally!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
26. (<i>talking to self in the mirror</i>) Well, I did not win the National Book Award nor the Nobel Laureate for Literature last year. Nor did I meet the man of my dreams. Thought I did for like a minute, but no, that turned out to be a crock. And now I am 26! All I have left to look forward to is decrepitude, senility, and even more loneliness. Who’s gonna love me when I’m old? Shit. Fuck New Years.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
27. My New Years resolution. I am totally (<i>sick of always saying that word</i>) going to cut back my smoking to a pack a day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
28. (<i>on the phone, drunk, smoking</i>) Yes, I am drunk-n-dialing you at (<i>check wall clock</i>) 3am. But I just wanted to call you up, Michelle, and apologize for breaking up with you that crap-tacular way on New Years Eve. Shut up. You were a really really great girlfriend in high school and you have been my best friend every since and you didn’t (<i>hic</i>) deserve... No, no I am fine. Just a bit tipsy, iz’all. It’s New frickin fuckin Years Eve! You’s s’posed to get bit tipsy! But look Michelle, I just wanna say I am sorry. And I love you. And uh…Happy New Year. (<i>singing</i>) Should old acquaintance be forgot…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
29. (<i>pacing, reasoning with self in the living room</i>) Think this year it’s a good idea for me to try a sober New Years Eve, for a change. No drunky mess. No picking up strange guys in backroom bars. No late night drunk-n-dialing. No anxious expectations getting me all worked up, then letting me down. Geez, I do not <u>have</u> to kiss someone at midnight! That’s my whole problem. I get so worked up over a stupid kiss. Like I’ll be lonely my whole life if I don’t get that damn kiss. I’m lonely anyway. What’s a kiss got to do with it?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
30. (<i>writing in journal</i>) So according to another journal entry I wrote when I was 16, on the New Year’s Eve that I am 30, I am supposed to commit suicide, ritualistic hippaku, like Cho-Cha San from Madame Butterfly. I’m supposed to plunge a hari-kari dagger deep into my gut, because my true love has abandoned me. And the language I used when I was 16! Talk about operatic! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
But no, don’t think I’ll be doing that after all. I want to live, damn it. Life can be operatic, for sure, but there’s still plenty of life left for me before I slide into decrepitude and senility. At age 40. Yeah, kinda liking this 30 thing. I mean, what’s 30 years old? Just one more decade. 30. That’s alright. 30 is not Middle Aged, except in Gay years. But I look great. My face is holding out. My ass is…(<i>check ass</i>) well, my face is holding out! Hmm, a New Year’s resolution…? I really should quit smoking two packs a day. Cigarettes gives you wrinkles.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
31. Oh God, I want a cigarette so bad! I spent the entire last year trying to quit smoking, but after all the headaches and the constipation!, I still crave cigarettes! Plus I got fat! Why didn’t somebody tell me the food cravings would be so bad? Basically, I just built myself an igloo out of chocolate bars, and then for 6 months ate my way out. Fatty fatty Bumba-latty, who would kiss you on New Year’s Eve? Ugh. Think I’ll sit this one out, on my fat ass.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
32. (<i>slurry drunk at the bar</i>) My New Year’s resolution? No more boys under 30! They rush off when they’re finished with you, and they don’t like to kiss. How old are you? Do you like to kiss?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
33. Nobody to kiss me on New Year’s Eve. AGAIN. (<i>sigh</i>) Oh Hello! Hot Daddy at 5 o’clock. Fuh-ine! Hey, Happy Near Year, Handsome! Mitchell? Kiss me under the mistletoe, Mitchell. Just kidding. Not really. Ha. Oh yeah, I totally love New Year’s Eve too. Totally! The whole tradition. Champagne. Mistletoe. Kissing. But you know what I heard? Mistletoe is really a weed, an invasive weed that grabs ahold then strangles the life out of its host. Ha. (<i>slow kiss</i>) Ah, the New Year’s Eve kiss is just so magical. Like, we are destined to become husbands!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
34. (<i>on cell phone</i>) Michelle, oh my god! Have I got a HOT boyfriend on New Year’s Eve! Finally! Woo fuckin’ Hoo! No need to worry anymore about who I’m gonna kiss at midnight. Nope, those pathetic, desperate, loser New Years are far behind me. Auld Lang Sine. (<i>singing</i>) And never more to roam! (<i>speaking again</i>) Michelle, we are true soul mates, Mitchell and I, husbands, and happier than I ever thought…hey, who’s that pretty boy Mitchell’s talking to over there? Seems I’ve seen them talking before. Hmmm..best go bust that up. It’s almost midnight. The ball is about to drop. Gotta-go-Honey-Happy-New-Year-love-ya-bye!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
35. Who breaks up with their boyfriend on New fucking Year fucking Eve, Mitchell?! I do not strangle you! Mistletoe? Ha Ha very funny, asshole. You’re leaving me for that rent-boy you met LAST New Year’s Eve, aren’t you? Did you bring some disease into this family? All you ever do is let me down! (<i>Mitchell leaves</i>) Mitchell, I’m sorry. Come back!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
36. Fuck resolutions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
37. (<i>Sitting in lotus pose. Sigh.</i>) I feel calmer already. This was an excellent idea. The best New Year’s Eve idea I have had yet. Zen meditation on New Year’s Eve, followed by Pranayama breath work and then chanting. And at the stroke of midnight? Nothing more than a little brass gong to mark the transition. No drunken craziness, no drama, no mess, no kiss. And no cigarettes! Just deep-breathing, letting go of all the crap-tacular, fucked-up stuff that happened to me this last year. So screw you, Mitchell. Ha.<br />
<br />
What’s that, Sensei? Oh right, ok yes, clear my mind. No thoughts. (<i>deep inhale and release</i>) I am not thinking of you. Not thinking of you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
38. Hmmm…what about the Rawhide? God, am I really so desperate that I need to resort to that? The backroom at the Rawhide on New Year’s Eve? And then afterwards the self-loathing. And the panic! Ugh. Stay home! Don’t get drunk. I will <u>not</u> get drunk. (<i>sigh</i>) It’s been 2 years since I quit smoking, but I still want a god-damn cigarette. Shit, guess I’ll always have cravings. Maybe I should try to write something tonight.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
39. I should write something tonight. Why would I even want to go out? Out again into that drunken melee, searching for easy love or just more risky, meaningless sex. I feel safer at home, away from the callous world. Alone, private, safe. Quiet. Tonight, I am resolved to write.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
40. ENOUGH already! God, I HATE New Year’s Eve! Every fucking year, the same self-centered, self-created, self-inflicted distress. I’m 40! Time to stop doing this to myself. Stop the cycle! Go out or don’t go out. Kiss somebody or don’t kiss somebody. Kiss yourself, give yourself a big fat hug, then JUST LET IT GO! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
(<i>Break the 4<sup>th</sup> wall</i>) If New Year’s Eve has got to symbolize anything, instead of loneliness or selfishness or pettiness or addiction or craving, let New Years symbolize change. Transitioning from one place in life to a better place. From the cold of winter to the blossoming of Spring. Everybody <u>deserves</u> a fresh start. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
This past year, I’ve been writing a lot, every day almost. Writing helps me figure stuff out. Like, a new year is really just a blank page. We get to write whatever we want on it. And this New Year’s Eve,<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"> my 40th, </span>I’m starting a brand new story.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Quick fade out.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-75973242283981786232011-05-06T11:02:00.003-05:002016-07-14T13:05:27.920-05:00Hormel Brand "Sloppy Seconds" ~ a comic monologueAre you one of 13.5 million unemployed Americans?<br />
Are you a dollar-minded mom or dad trying to raise a family on a fixed income?<br />
Or no income at all?<br />
Are your kids <i>so hungry</i> they would eat table scraps? Off of <i>somebody else's</i> table?!<br />
Well thankfully, now they can!<br />
<br />
Serve your hungry heroes a heaping helping of America's favorite canned-food dinner<br />
made from leftover table scraps!<br />
Serve them...Hormel brand Sloppy Seconds!<br />
<br />
Hormel collected table scraps from participating all-you-can-eat restaurants and buffets,<br />
like Picadilly, Panchos, and Stuckeys!<br />
For that <i>delicious blending</i> of flavors your kids beg for,<br />
scoop-up Sloppy Seconds on a pita, tortilla, or a bun.<br />
MOVE OVER Sloppy Joe. It's time...for Sloppy Seconds!<br />
<br />
And now, Hormel is proud to announce<br />
our newest member of the Sloppy Seconds family:<br />
Sloppy Seconds....Vegan!<br />
Hormel heard your demand for a healthier alternative that's cruelty-free,<br />
sustainably farmed, and hand-picked by indigenous peoples.<br />
That's right, Vegan Sloppy Seconds. For your neighbors...at Hormel.<br />
<br />
Hormel took the scrap bucket from under the deli at Whole Foods.<br />
Mixed in barley malt, spirulina, and <i>quinoa!</i><br />
Just stir in soy milk, and Sloppy Seconds Vegan (mmmm) makes it own <i>savory gravy</i>.<br />
Nothing but the good stuff the Goddess intended you to eat!<br />
<br />
So whether you and your family LOVE Sloppy Seconds Vegan,<br />
Sloppy Seconds Tandoori, or Sloppy Seconds ORIGINAL FLAVOR,<br />
your kids will starve for more. They will wipe their mouths, then beg YOU for<br />
<i>"More Sloppy Seconds, Mom and Dad!!"</i>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-1438588061958510672011-01-24T22:44:00.005-06:002016-07-14T13:04:43.742-05:00Hamlet, for a Queer Aye ~ an alternate ending<div class="Section1">
<div class="TitlePage" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>CHARACTERS</b></span></div>
</div>
<div class="Section2">
<div class="CTPCharacter" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Hamlet, prince of Denmark, 20 to 35<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPCharacter" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Horatio, Hamlet’s best friend, 20 to 35<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPCharacter" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Fortinbras, prince of Norway, 20 to 35, a very large man<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPCharacter" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CTPHeading" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>TIME</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPTime" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Medieval. 1200<sup>th</sup> year of our Lord.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPTime" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CTPHeading" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>SETTING</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPPlace" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Elsinore castle in Denmark, Throne room, scene of a bloody massacre. Dead bodies are imagined in specific locations. A chalice containing a single large pearl or gaudy ring is positioned prominently Downstage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPPlace" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CTPHeading" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>MATERIALS</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPPlace" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Chalice<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPPlace" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Large single white pearl or gaudy ring<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPPlace" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bloody sword<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="CTPPlace" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Bugle or horn<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 150%; position: relative; top: -1pt;"><br clear="all" style="mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: always;" /> </span> </span><br />
<div class="SCENEHEADING" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><u><b>Hamlet V, ii</b></u><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="ExtDirection" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0pt;">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(HAMLET staggers on, bloody sword in hand)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">O proud death,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That thou so many princes at a shot</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So bloodily hast strook!</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(enters smiling)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Aye, tis such a pity. Left standing here is only me</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And you, Prince Hamlet, of late, king of Denmark. <i>(kneels)</i></span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">No, bosom friend, arise! Something is rotten in the state </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">of Denmark. Horatio, how comes it now to pass</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That so many noble princes are dead?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(points to the imaginary dead, as Horatio indicates dislike for each of them)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Too-too-proud Laertes, who like you </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">was a brother unto me.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Claudius, uncle and would-be king. </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And my own mother, gentle Gertrude… </span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(coughs into hand)</i> Slattern!</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">O nothing.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">May God show mercy upon her soul. </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And that old fool Polonius too?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Aye. Even Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Who?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(gently takes sword from Hamlet) </i>Shhhh…thinketh not upon it.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What, the fair Ophelia! Drown’d!</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I lov’d Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Could not with all their quantity of love</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Make up my sum.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Whatever.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Horatio, how comes it now that all this death </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">is visited upon Elsinore?</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(beat)</i> O, I killed them. Uh huh. I killed all of them. For you, bosom friend. <i>(takes Hamlet’s hands)</i> For us.</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">O horror! O treason! O Horatio!</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I would not hear your enemy say so,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nor shall you do my ear that violence</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To make truster of your own report</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Against yourself. Why sayest thou these infernal lies??</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Lies? Hamlet, everybody knoweth that which we are</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">that which we have always been</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">inside the other’s heart. Bosom friend? </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">How now Hamlet, have you forgot me? </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Forgot how gaily did we play as youth.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Forgot the romantic plays you once wrote for me, </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Romeo and Horatio? Hamlet and Juliet?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ah you always did love theater! </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Forgot how we shared but a single bed </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">in our dorm room back at Wittenberg? College, Hamlet!</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(chokes)</i> Friend, I thought that we were…I mean…</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Aye! like unto brothers! Unburdening the other’s load,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">simply lending a hand.</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(points sword at Hamlet)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">O I see! So thou didst believe that merely because </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">my name rhymeth with felatio that I…</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Horatio! Brother! </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The dead people…?</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">O! Aye, I killed them all Hamlet.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Your slattern mother and treacherous uncle-father, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I mean, how weird is that?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And that entire Polonius clan, scheming to wed the </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">hussy daughter onto the throne of Denmark!</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ophelia, O I am so fwagile. I am cwazy! </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">“They say the owl was a baker’s daughter.” </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That wing-nut needed but the barest push to tumble </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">headlong into the brook . </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And her brother, the noble Laertes? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That Mary wanted you for herself! </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But I don’t know why I killed Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Who?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nevermindeth. I killed them Hamlet. Sweet prince,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">now made Denmark’s rightful king.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But why, Horatio?</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because the king is law. Because as king, </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">you have the power to legalize same-sex union,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">that forthwith two men in love may wed in nuptial bliss. </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And about time too! We are nigh upon the year 1200! </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then, you and I will live as husband and… er…</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">as King and…Royal Consort! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Everyone who stood in our way…in your way…is dead. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But how comes it that noble Laertes is killed? </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We did but duel in sport, and I but scratched his arm.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Unbated and envenomed was your blade. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thou knowest that I prefer thy blade unbated.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(fades into a trance or the onset of seizure)</i> O what a rogue and peasant slave am I…</span></div>
<div class="Dialogue">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">O boy! Please, retreat not into soliloquy. </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Enough of your endless self-analysis and internal dialog! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To whom do you speak Hamlet? There is but you! </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And I. Come back to me sweet prince, back to Elsinore, </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And for once in your life maketh a God damn-ned decision!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But Horatio…what is the question?</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To be…King and Royal Consort! That is the question!</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Hamlet is indecisive, but then roars and tries to attack Horatio, who defends himself with Hamlet’s own sword)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HAMLET</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "times new roman";"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Disgusted, Hamlet rejects Horatio and exits nauseated)</span></i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "times new roman";"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></i></span>O, that this too too solid flesh would melt!</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Try burning a faggot underneath you!</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(military horn)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What warlike noise is this? <i>(looks out window)</i></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ah ha! Prince Fortinbras of Norway, </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">with conquest come from Poland, </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">To th’ ambassadors of England gives this warlike volley.</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">FORTINBRAS<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(runs onstage)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Where is this sight?</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">What is it you would see, Lord Fortinbras?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(smitten with Fortinbras, who is a very large man</i>) Whoa!</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">FORTINBRAS</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">O proud death,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That thou so many princes at a shot</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So bloodily hast strook!</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yes, yes, yes. Hamlet said that already.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(admires Fortinbras)</i> </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Fortinbras, lend me an ear? A question. </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If, say, the entire royal family of Denmark has died </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Of carnal, bloody, unnatural acts,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Of deaths put on by cunning and force’d cause, </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Would not you be next in succession to the crown? </span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">FORTINBRAS<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I do have some rights of memory in this kingdom.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Have they died?</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Aye, all save Hamlet. <i>(flirts with Fortinbras)</i></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Whereupon Fortinbras arrived, your soldiers flush with conquest,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">standing without the gates of unprotected Elsinore. </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If the entire royal family dies, heir to Norway </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">could also king of Denmark be. </span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">FORTINBRAS<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(shrugs off Horatio’s flirtation)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">How can this to be accomplished when Hamlet still lives?</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">History would call Fortinbras an assassin.</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">History is written by those who live.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Give order that these bodies</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">High on a stage be placed to the view,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And let Me speak to th’ yet unknowing world</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">How these things came about. So shall you hear</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">How the “mad prince” of Denmark, known to be prone to bouts </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Of Melancholia, did put on an antic disposition, <i>(pantomimes “mad prince”)</i></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">causing death unto all these royal princes. </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And how sadly, his own tragic death followed hard upon,</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(offers Hamlet’s sword to Fortinbras)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">by an unbated and envenomed blade.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And just in case, <i>(wrestles chalice from dead Queen’s hand)</i> </span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">…Slattern…also by poisonous cup!</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">FORTINBRAS</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(considers Hamlet’s sword like a cross)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Let us haste to hear more,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And call the noblest to the audience.</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And how the handsome Prince Fortinbras, entered upon this tragic scene </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But O! too late to prevent massacre. And therefore, </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">by hereditary right claimed you the throne of Denmark. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(kneels)</i> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And how nobly did you reign. <i>(arises)</i> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Uh, with your loyal, Royal Consort beside you?</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">FORTINBRAS</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(beat)</i> For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune.<i> (strokes Horatio’s face, causing Horatio's knees to buckle)</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Which now to claim <i>(takes up Hamlet’s sword)<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">my vantage doth invite me. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>(Exits in same direction as Hamlet, but turning back, pantomimes that he intends to kill Horatio too when he is done, which Horatio does not see)</i></span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="CHARACTER" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HORATIO<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Delighted, almost drinks from poison chalice, but stops himself. From chalice, fingers out the ring, examines it)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ah, sweet prince, good night. (<i>puts rings on finger)</i></span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.</span></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">(Exits with poison chalice, following after Fortinbras and Hamlet)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="StyleExtDirectionTimesNewRomanLinespacing15lines">
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />
</span></i></div>
<div class="TheEnd" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The End</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-20136291823775375242010-11-26T12:23:00.048-06:002016-07-14T13:03:54.110-05:00Ought To Bees ~ a monologue<div>
I hate the Ought-to-bees! Church folk at Belle Chasse Baptist always talk about how I ought to be. Like, “You <i>ought to be</i> a better role model.” Half of them think I really am a role model! Like, they pray their kids turn out just like me and hold me up for an example. You know their kids hate me for that. Shuh! And other half? They call me a problem child in need of better home training. Whatever!</div>
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It is <i>so hard</i> being the Pastor’s daughter. Like, it’s hard just to make friends my own age. Take Shane Guidry. I mean, we <i>are </i>friends. I just wish we could be <i>better </i>friends. Shane Guidry is smart, like me. At Christian school, we’re both way ahead of everybody else in our workbooks. And Shane's always neat. He keeps his shoes as clean as his Bible. But even though we’re friends, still, he’s kinda stand-offish.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Or take that Vardimin Huckabee. Puh-lease! I trust Vardimin Huckabee about as far as I can throw him. And that ain’t far. Ok, there was this one time I thought we might date, but that was a whole year ago! I was twelve! No uh-uh, not anymore. Vardimin’s mean. He always did play too rough. Like this one time, when we was all seven-years-old—that was our first year at Christian school—Vardimin Huckabee put sand inside my panties. Boy, was my mama mad! Everybody was in trouble with Mama that day. Even my daddy was in trouble. And he’s the Pastor! Oh, Mama was all shouting about “boys need better male role models!” So whatever was going on between Vardimin and Shane, I know it’s rough. And I just think, well, Shane has had enough rough in his lifetime already.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I mean, I already know the truth about Shane, despite all my protestations to Daddy, Mama, or anybody else at Belle Chasse Baptist. Oh I can still hear Sister Charlotte Purtell—she’s my mama’s best friend—teasing me, "A pastor’s daughter ought to be selective about whom she chooses for her first beau," she says. "How ‘bout that cute little Brother Shane?” She looked at the other church women and laughed. “I hear tell he’s a <i>faerie </i>nice guy!" Sister Charlotte’s sense of humor really sets my teeth on edge. She always teases me like that, boyfriend jokes, in front of other church women whenever Mama's not in earshot. 'Sides, there's nobody at Belle Chasse Baptist I want for a first beau.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
So I nurtured my suspicion about Shane and Vardimin all last semester at Christian school. And then, when it was time for Spring term crawfish boil, I confronted him. I don’t know where I got the gall, maybe it was adrenaline, but I dragged Shane into the church side-yard where I could ask him privately about what was up with Vardimin. “Are y'all sexual?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Shane denied it, vehemently, but eventually he broke down, all harried by my persistance. I get that complaint a lot. But finally, Shane confided the truth to me. “Don’t tell your daddy!” he begs, all panic-stricken. Like, why would I tell my daddy?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So I don’t know, maybe it was adrenaline, but I just asked him outright, “Shane, does your father ever beat you up?” I mean, Shane always seems so scared, like he winces whenever church men shout "Amen!" too loud. But my friend would not even answer that question at all. Clamped shut his jaw. I stood by and watched the vision in Shane Guidry's hazel-green eyes turn inside. I tapped his shoulder. “Bubba, what is it?”</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Well once I got at home, I decided to talk to my daddy, the Pastor, anyhow. I changed out from my good Sunday jumper my mama made me, and put on a boy’s tank top and culottes. Daddy doesn’t like me to wear tank tops; but Mama says it’s ok because I haven’t developed my boobies yet. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then I tip-toed into Daddy’s private retreat, his sanctuary, his home office in the tool shed. I felt just like Queen Esther, fearfully entering the court of King Ahasereus in order to save my people. I guess it <i>was </i>adrenaline. Cuz with the same gall I had confronted Shane about his father, I now beseeched my own father to intercede on Shane’s behalf.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Daddy was leaning sideways in his office chair, the one with the missing wheel. His big head cocked to the side listening to me in disbelief like I was Balaam’s talking donkey. And when I finished talking, Daddy just shook his big head slowly side-to-side. “That Shane Guidry,” he says, “sure is one confused young fella.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
But I blurted out in Shane’s defense, "You would be confused too if your father hid behind the door when you got home from Christian school and surprised you with a weight lifting belt!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Daddy sat bolt upright, despite his leaning chair. “Now Sharon Rose Buchanan,” he tells me, “Brother Guidry is just more strict as a parent than me or Mama. Some parents use corporal punishment to teach their kids right behavior. That is their prerogative. But you and your brother Bobby, y'all never get spanked. Mama and me don’t believe in corporal punishment. So of course you think spanking is abuse.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Prerogative? Shuh! I knew better than that. “A weight lifting belt?! I know what that’s called!” I was just besides myself, trying not to cry. “Daddy, I’m scared for my friend. Can’t you do nothing?” </div>
<div>
<br />
“Like what could I do?,” he says. Daddy seemed harried by my persistence too. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I faked a smile, holding back my tears. “You’re the Pastor," I said. "You influence people. You could talk to Brother Guidry?” Underneath my fake smile though, I prayed Daddy would see the real distress I felt for my friend. I wanted him to pull me by the waist into a hug like when I was a little girl.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But he didn’t do that. Daddy didn’t hug me. He just thought for a while. “I tell you what," he finally says, "here’s what I will do. I will write a Bible study for this Wednesday night, explore the topic of corporal punishment, using scripture.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I wailed. "Spare the rod?!"</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
“Yes!” Daddy says, definitely harried. “But other scripture too, like provoke not thy child to wrath. I will debate the topic of corporal punishment from the pulpit, both sides, with scripture. Try to set some reasonable boundaries.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I winced at my own gall. “Will you mention the weight lifting belt?” Even Mama knows to back down when Daddy has <i>that look</i> in his eyes, like King Ahasereus, or Moses.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Through tight jaws and clenched teeth, my father just says to me, “I will be very, very clear, my dear." And then, he turned me around by my shoulders, pointed me out the exit of the tool shed, and swatted my butt.<br />
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Shuh!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Well I’m thirteen now. And maybe I don’t always know how things ought to be. And maybe I never will become the best role model in the land. But I do know one thing for sure, that's how to be a good friend. And right about now, I think Shane Guidry sure could use a friend.</div>
Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-17139331022983446382010-09-30T10:37:00.020-05:002011-06-30T19:45:21.956-05:00The Final .2 Miles<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><b>This is a newer draft of a poem I began during National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) in April. You can see an earlier draft in the <a href="http://kungfuevangelist.blogspot.com/2010/04/napowrimo-week-3.html">blog entries below</a>. This poem still needs work, but it's approaching what I intend:<br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">The Final .2 Miles</span></b></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">The modern marathon is more than 26 miles long.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">It is 26.2, to be precise. The .2 added</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">because a young queen wanted to greet </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">the runners </span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">of the first modern marathon </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">at the ornate gates of Buckingham palace.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Flash-forward 50 years. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Hawaii, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">inside the chain-link fence enclosing Moana Loa shopping center.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">where 26 thousand anxious runners are lining up </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">in the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">pre-morning </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">dark</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> of pre-morning</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">hopping in place or rolling shoulders </span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">under the tendrils of falling sky flowers, the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">opening ceremonial fireworks.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Speeches I do not hear, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">crunching my first handful of Cheerios.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span> </div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">At the mile 6 marker, I am holding steady,</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">happy in my selection of moisture-wicking socks.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">My feet fall into that familiar rhythm that I recognize from training.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">When </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">all of a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">sudden</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><b>ly</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">, that shoeless Ethiopian </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">who soon will win the race,</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">is already </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">return</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">s</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">ing</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"> in the opposite direction, already </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><b>at </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">the mile 20 marker (for him)</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">grinning as he passes, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">his bare feet flapping on the sticky blacktop.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span> </div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">But </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Yet for me</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">, yet,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">are two times over Diamond Head, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">our only hill, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">a volcano really, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">and then </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">an </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><b>the</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"> eternal stretch of featureless </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">sky and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Pali Highway and sky.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Porta-potty stops, more water </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">and </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">, more</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"> Cheerios.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><b>Beide the Pali Highway, </b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">L</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">local Hawaiians cheer </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">us on</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">., handing us banana halves </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><b>and cups</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">Someone hands me half of a banana.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">In my imagination, I throw a giant rubber band </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">around a faster runner </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">up ahead, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">herding his momentum with my mind, </span></div></div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">to pull me forward on the confidence of his stride.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Hours later, my turn finally arrives </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">to pass that mile 20 marker for myself,</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Momentary elation and relief </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">are swallowed by the realization </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><b>of not jut 6 more miles to run, but 6.2.</b></span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">of 6.2 miles yet to go. And then at mile 26, still another .2 miles!</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">But everything I had apportioned out </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">to sustain me over 26 miles,</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">is used up already, good intentions </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">long-since gone, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">both water bottles empty. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">All my Cheerios are consumed.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Physical stamina? Depleted; </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">and I run solely on emotional energy </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">now, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">and that too wanes. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">My stomach, painfully bloated, sloshes with its own acids.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">In my imagination, I throw a giant rubber band around a faster runner </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">up ahead, herding his momentum with my mind, </span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;">to pull me forward on the confidence of his stride.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">But the rubber band, or my imagination, stretched beyond the limit, </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">snaps. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">And I am hurtled backward by impact with The Wall.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">My left IT band is tearing away from the knee.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">What fuel is left that I can use?</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #93c47d;">A whisper, the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">slightest suggestion inside me: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Rage? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Oh right. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Raging against the dying of the light!</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">So many times in my life before, rage has served me well. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"></span></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Can rage carry me now, over </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">what feels like </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">the final .2 miles of life?</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Because I am finishing this race!</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"> </span></span></span>I have traveled too far--</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">600 miles in training and then 2 separate jets!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">I endured the headaches and Plantar Fasciitis,</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">low blood sugar depressions, and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">the body certainty </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">that long distance goals </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">are really short distance goals </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">when taken daily, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">one step, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">and then the next. </span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Yes, rage! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Even if I drag my bloody stump </span></div></div></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">across that line, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">I will finish strong. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">I am a Finisher.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">Although, I have not finished yet. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">I still earn </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">every painful step of those final .2 miles </span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">before I will be greeted at the scrolling gate of an eternally ancient queen.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">The marathon extends beyond my reach. But I know that sometimes</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #93c47d;">just maintaining forward momentum has got to be enough.</span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></div></div>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-62418747166103155752010-08-01T15:23:00.014-05:002010-08-28T09:40:46.943-05:00Genius in My Livingroom<div>Publication, it would seem, is a secondary concern</div><div>that a writer should consider only after<br />
actually writing.</div><div><br />
But validation, admiration, respect?</div><div>I mean, how long must I remain content</div><div>just a genius in my living room?</div><div>And love? Who does not want love?<br />
<br />
</div><div>But if love can be won, I haven't won it yet.</div><div>Validation, yes, some respect, and even admiration.</div><div>Plus head-wagging a-plenty. But love?<br />
Really, I should look elsewhere.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Validation, admiration, and respect then.</div><div><br />
</div><div>To feel a part Of It All.</div><div>Not just feel, but to believe it.</div><div>To sit, crowded at the table with the other<br />
VIPs, the other hungry young celebrities,<br />
all of us scanning the ballroom, looking outward</div><div>instead of in, anxious to see and be seen, anxious<br />
to feel Chosen, for someone to call</div><div>our names.</div>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-31714573788642579492010-07-02T12:12:00.010-05:002011-10-08T17:45:27.292-05:00On Bayou Lafitte<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlmXbR_MSyK6Lr505FMb5RfgxfppoIcIrcId88ho9yfNFxYMkgvSNsKWIv1Hw9npGKGuI4HcVEThSmukK1qzJ_6o5wJUtbLYwcSmXxlUkz17G7tsNQLCLN0lx9rT-kAWWDtI13UfXSz0/s1600/GiantBlueIris.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491924437642364034" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlmXbR_MSyK6Lr505FMb5RfgxfppoIcIrcId88ho9yfNFxYMkgvSNsKWIv1Hw9npGKGuI4HcVEThSmukK1qzJ_6o5wJUtbLYwcSmXxlUkz17G7tsNQLCLN0lx9rT-kAWWDtI13UfXSz0/s200/GiantBlueIris.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 134px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;">The floating lands, folded by a storm surge, </span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;">rebounded with tides too saline </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;">for Giant Blue Irises to thrive.</span></div><div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;">Yet these blue tenacious flowers do survive, </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;">roots clutching at the certainty that change </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;">is the nature of Nature, and that </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;">even </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;">Giant Blue Irises can rebound.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #99ff99;"><br />
</span></div>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-38462293041772862232010-06-07T12:30:00.002-05:002010-06-07T12:44:17.778-05:00Musical DebutTonight is Dress Rehearsal for "<a href="http://www.theatre-13.com/Theatre_13/Dirty_Rotten_Scoundrels.html">Dirty Rotten Scoundrels</a>, the Musical". This show marks my musical theater debut in New Orleans, this coming Friday night. I'm excited and proud to have come this far. Dress Rehearsal. I expect things to be harried and confused tonight, but overall very well-done. We've rehearsed our songs, practiced our set changes, lighting cues, and choreography. We're in good shape.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Me, I'm in good shape too. Dancing does wonders for my body and stamina. I feel pretty good. And proud to say I'm hanging in there with REAL dancers, some in their late teens. Fortunately, there are 2 levels of choreography in the show: REAL dancer choreography and simplified, mostly upstage in the back choreography for me and the other singer/actors. I rely on my female dance partners to guide me around, signal the next change, and maintain tempo. But otherwise, I'm DANCIN'!! In a show! Not bad for 42 years old.</div><div><br /></div><div>There's a poem about the experience of dancing starting to form...</div>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-35429167458025570382010-04-22T09:43:00.017-05:002010-05-03T12:24:43.429-05:00NaPoWriMo ~ Week 4A poem a day is a chore, but overall, I'm happy with my progress. Even on days when I do not publish a poem, my mind is writing.<br /><br />If you are reading this on Facebook, my revisions make a lot more sense on the actual blog (http://kungfuevangelist.blogspot.com) where you can see the colors at work. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Bold white text is the original impulse on a particular day. </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;">Green text is revised after the first day.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">Gray text is deleted.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 7<br /><br /><br />DAY 6<br /><br /><br />DAY 5<br /><br />cloud of Sweet Olive<br /><br /><br />DAY 4<br /><br />change is the nature<br />of Nature<br /><br /><br />DAY 3</span><b> ~ <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Bayou Lafitte</span><br /><br />The floating lands,</b><div><b>folded by a storm surge,</b></div><div><b><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">return </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">rebounded </span>with tides too saline </b></div><div><b>for <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">g</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">G</span>iant <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">b</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">B</span>lue <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">i</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">I</span>rises<br />to thrive<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">And yet </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">they </span>Yet <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">these </span>tenacious flowers<br />do survive,</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"> roots<br />clutching to the certainty <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">knowledge</span></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"> that<br />change </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">is the nature </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">of Nature</span><br /></b></div><div style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><b><br /></b></div><div><b><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">And that Giant Blue Irises<br />can also rebound.</span><br /></b></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />DAY 2</span><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 1</span></div></div>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-76751935291976140982010-04-15T16:47:00.039-05:002010-08-01T15:04:00.309-05:00NaPoWriMo ~ Week 3Week 2 started strong, but then seriously dropped off. The poems were longer, more noticeably structured, and located firmly in New Orleans, sights and recent experiences. But then, nothing. Or perhaps I should say, too much. Too many thoughts swirling inside my head like a carousel, but no gold ring to grab hold of. It's times like these when my pocket-size notebooks are really handy to jot down snippets.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 7 ~ Genius in My Living Room<br /><br />How long can I be content<br />being just a genius<br />in my living room?<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">I know, p</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">P</span>ublication<br />is a secondary concern for writers<br />after writing.<br />But validation, admiration, respect?<br />Love? Who doesn't want love?<br /><br />But if love can be won, </span><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">I haven't won it yet.<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">Plenty of admiration </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">though</span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">,</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"><br /></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">some respect, more</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;"> copious e</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#99FF99;">E</span>ncouragement, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#99FF99;">yes,</span></span><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#99FF99;">some respect, and even admiration. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">And yes<br />a bit of plenty of head-wagging.</span><br />But love? Really<br />I should look elsewhere.<br /><br />Validation, admiration, respect...<br /><br />To feel <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#99FF99;">a</span> part Of It All.<br />Not just feel <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">it</span>, but believe it.<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">To look outward<br />instead of<br />in.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">C</span>To sit, crowded at the table with the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">other </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">VIPs</span></div><div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#666666;">with </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">the </span>the <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">other, hungry young </span>celebrities, all of us <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br />scanning the ballroom, looking outward</span></span><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">instead of in,</span> anxious <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#99FF99;">to see</span></span><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#99FF99;">and be seen, </span>anxious for someone </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">to call </span></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">our names.</span></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />DAY 6<br /><br /><br />DAY 5<br /><br /><br />DAY 4</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> ~ The Final .2 Miles</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A marathon is more than 26 </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">miles long</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">.<br />To be precise, </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">it's 26.2. The .2 added<br />because a young queen</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> wanted to greet<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">runners</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> of </span>the </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">first modern marathon </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">runners</span><br />at the gates of her palace.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">At the line-up there are 26 thousand<br />of us,</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"> hopping in place with excitement,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">under the falling sky flowers</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">of the opening ceremonial fireworks.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Speeches I don't hear. I eat</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">my first handful of Cheerios.</span><br /><br />At the mile 6 marker, <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">I am holding steady,<br />happy with my selection of moisture-wicking socks,<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">my feet falling into that pleasing rhythm</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">I recognize from training, when</span> that barefoot Ethiopian<br />who <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">soon will win</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">won </span>the race <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">was </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">is </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">already </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">returning</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">,<br />grinning as he passe<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">s</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">d</span> me in the opposite direction<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">flat feet flapping on the blacktop</span>.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">And when I finally <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">see</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">saw </span>that 26 mile<br />marker for myself, my momentary</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">upsurge of pride,</span><br />elation<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">,</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"> and relief</span> was <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">are</span> </span>swallowed<br />by the realization of</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> .2 miles<br />yet to go!<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">. Oh no!</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">But </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">everything I brought<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">to sustain me for 26 miles</span><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">I <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">had </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">have </span>used up already,</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">all my good intentions <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">gone</span>,<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">both </span>water bottle<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">s</span> empty, <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">and I had</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">consumed </span>every</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> bite-sized bit of energy bar<br />consumed, <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">plus </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">and </span>all the Cheerios.</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />My physical stamina <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">was </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">is </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">long-since</span> depleted,</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />and I <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">ran </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">run </span>solely on emotional energy now,</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />and that too wanes. <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">was waning. </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">fast</span><br /><br />My right IT band <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">was </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">is </span>tearing <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">away</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br />from </span>the knee, and my stomach </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">was </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">is<br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">painfully </span>bloated </span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">painfully</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">. What fuel<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> was </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">is </span>left<br />that I <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">could </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">can </span>use?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">A tiny voice inside me whispers, </span>Rage<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">?</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">.</span><br />Yes, <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">of course,</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">why not</span> rage against the dying light<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">?</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Like so many other times before,</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">W</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">w</span>hen all else fails<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> me</span>,<br />rage</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">can </span>carry<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">iesd</span> me over what <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">felt </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">feels </span>like<br />the final .2 miles of <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">my </span>life.<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Whatever works.</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />No one can ever take <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">that </span>away <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">what I have accomplished<br />so far,</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> from me, </span>nor the <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">understanding </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">body certainty</span><br />that long <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">distance </span>goals<br />are really short <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">distance </span>goals<br />when taken daily,</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> further divisible into<br />one step at a time, </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">and then<br />the next. <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">I <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">have </span>am not </span>finished </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">yet</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">. </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">I <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">earned </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">am</span> still earn<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">ing</span></span><br />every painful step of these <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">final </span>.2 miles<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">before I can be greeted at the <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">queen's </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">gate</span></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"> of an ancient queen.</span><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">I still run the marathon,</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"> and know that sometimes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">just </span>maintaining</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> forward momentum has got to be enough.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 3</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 2</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 1</span></div></div></div></div></div>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-47999162792452287422010-04-08T10:52:00.025-05:002010-04-15T16:46:56.102-05:00NaPoWriMo ~ Week 2I've never written so much poetry at once, not even in creative retreat. I'm more-or-less thrilled with the 7 poems I've written so far. All 7 are in various degrees of first-draftness, but some have potential for further development--after this break-neck pace is over.<br /><br />Ok, week 2. Inhale. Here goes...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 7<br />turning tide<br /><br /><br />DAY 6<br /><br /><br /><br />DAY 5<br /><br /><br /><br />DAY 4<br /><br /><br /><br />DAY 3 <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">~ French Quarter Fest</span><br />Sexy, sexy people<br />and not so sexy people<br />dancing, nodding,<br />rocking side-to-side,<br />snapping, </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">clapping, </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">or doing<br />the Funky Butt<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">to a kind of musical hybrid<br />that can flourish only<br />in New Orleans:<br />calliope and the Blues,<br />Zydeco Bounce,<br />or the world's premier trio<br />of steel guitar, sousaphone,<br />and washboard.<br /><br />Salt peanuts for sale<br />or a painted face.<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Let's catch that crawfish</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">eating competition</span><br />and <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">then grab </span>a beer~always<br />a Big Ass beer.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Grateful for sunglasses<br />dimming the glare<br />off of the river<br />but regretting the lack<br />of sunscreen. Oh well,<br />you'll look luminous<br />dancing tonight.<br /><br /><br />DAY 2<br />What use are empty hands?<br /><br />Better for <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">clawing </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">digging </span>up through soil.<br />No premature graves for me!<br /><br />Better for cupping water<br />to my thirsty lips.<br /><br />Better for <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">reaching out</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">holding hands</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">with </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">to </span>someone else.<br /><br />Better for touching,<br />catching,<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">pushing</span>, <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">throwing</span><br />pulling<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">and holding myself together.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Better </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Good </span>for waving goodbye.<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Best for caressing!</span><br /><br /><br />DAY 1 <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">~ Where the Industrial Canal Meets the River</span><br /></span><span><span style="font-weight: bold;">At the point<br />where waters merge,<br />green grapples brown,<br />and breezes buffet my<br />face and body on all<br />sides at once.<br /><br />On the water side, the levee<br />slopes down to rocks<br />clashing like Caligula<br />with the tide.<br />Foolish kings. Water will<br />have its way.<br /><br />But on the levee's<br />grassy side, the pom-pom heads<br />of clover, grown high, nod<br />vigorously with the winds<br />like a million angels dancing.<br /><br />And in between both sides,<br />lies a middle path<br />paved in </span></span><span><span style="font-weight: bold;">broken </span></span><span><span style="font-weight: bold;">oyster shells,<br />bumpy on my bike, and narrow,<br />though</span></span><span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> seldom straight.</span></span>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-3043939586299468102010-04-01T09:45:00.043-05:002010-04-08T00:13:16.860-05:00NaPoWriMo ~ Week 1April is National Poetry Writing Month, and I'm participating in a nationwide group write: <span style="font-style: italic;">a poem a day for the next 30 days</span>. Hmm... Sounds intimidating. But here I am, tossing my hat into the ring. Check this blog now and then, http://kungfuevangelist.blogspot.com<br /><br />Text color indicates work in progress. <span style="font-weight: bold;">White text is the original impulse for a particular day.</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">Gray/black text is a deletion. </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">And green </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">text </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">is new since the original impulse.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 7<br />Where waters merge<br />green meets brown,<br />and the breeze buffets<br />my face and body<br />from all sides at once.<br /><br />Clumps of clover grown high<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">on the incline of the levee </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />shudder, but on the water side<br />are rocks<br />clashing </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">like Caligula </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />with the tide.<br /><br />Foolish king.<br />Water will have its way.<br /><br /><br />DAY 6<br />Whispering begins in the raffia friction<br />of last year's fronds, stubbornly refusing<br />to fall from the tallest palms.<br /><br />Then bamboo rustles her taffeta leaves<br />as the </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">pipes that </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">dangle from the eaves<br />begin to chime.<br /><br />Wind animates them all,<br />with desire<br />at the roots of everything.<br /><br />Why then should I let go of desire, let go<br />of it all<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">~</span>to crossover into Nirvana<br />or some other sweet oblivion?<br /><br />Who would ever want to leave<br />these trees, this wind, those chimes?<br /><br /><br />DAY 5 ~ (Unasked-for) Advice for Writers<br />You are a writer<br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">only </span>when you write.<br />You are a <span style="font-style: italic;">Writer </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">only </span>when you revise.<br /><br />Learn to write<br />by writing,<br />then re-writing,<br />and by reading the Greats.<br />Listen when writers talk,<br />especially about writing.<br /><br />Don't wait for inspiration.<br />Find inspiration in your writing.<br /><br />Don't write to <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">earn </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">gain </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">love.<br />Love what you write.<br /><br />Don't write to <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">be </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">get </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">published.<br />Just do your best work.<br />Have something to say.<br />Say it well.<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">But </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">never worry about</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Voice. That is a Marketing term.</span><br /><br />Write to weave<br />patterns, to create order,<br />to construct meaning~<br />because meaning, like story,<br />is a constructed thing.<br /><br />Write because<br />your days are haunted<br />by words, images, and emotions~<br />inside the private theater<br />of memory.<br /><br />Write because, like me,<br />you have no choice<br />but to unburden your<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">self</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">heart</span><br />of <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">our</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> aching </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">this </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">barely endurable</span><br />love for <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">this </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">our </span>phenomenal <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">world</span>.<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">life</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">.</span><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Easter Sunday </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">DAY 4 ~<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">A Poem by Frederick Mead</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">c</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">C</span>onfessional <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">tone.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">s</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">S</span>exual <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">longing.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">s</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">S</span>piritual <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">groping.</span><br /><br /><br />DAY 3<br />I awake every morning<br />longing<br />for an angel's burning kiss<br />or a poem on my lips~<br />aching to feel Chosen.<br /><br />And so I start my day<br />constructing my voice<br />from all the available accents~<br />stout-hearted, <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">yet </span>guarded lest<br />my fragility show, armored<br />by personality.<br /><br /><br />DAY 2<br />I speak<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">iron,</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> plainly,</span><br />volcanic sounds<br />erupting<br />from deep within my<br />lungs of fire,<br />words hammer-forged<br />inside the cavern<br />of my mouth.<br /><br />I <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">make </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">seek</span><br />pattern,<br />expressing meaning<br />through rhythm<br />or repetition,<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">near rhyme, or</span><br />the telling silence,<br />in structures meant to<br />guide,<br />clarify,<br />and delight<br /><br />You my<br />reader,<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">first Muse</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">top banana</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">of </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">in </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">my <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Pantheon</span> </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">cosmology,</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">world order,</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">even </span>though you might<br />never grasp my meaning<br />across <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">the </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">our </span>gap<br />of language.</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /><br />DAY 1</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Fluttering hummingbird<br />heartbeats <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">pulse </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">felt</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> where skin presses</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> skin, bodies together</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"> in pleasure, beating out</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">the </span><br />syncopated measures of<br />desire:</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Want, want, I want!</span>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2573093946511656673.post-82889927186697448842010-02-20T13:55:00.053-06:002010-03-22T11:02:07.485-05:00Word Temples<strong></strong><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);">Recently I learned that the Chinese symbol for "poem" is comprised of 2 characters that mean "word" and "temple". A poem is a word temple.</span><br /><br /><strong>WORD TEMPLE</strong><br /><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">In the beginning is</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">the deed. For compassion <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;">is</span></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">is </span>more than a noun, more than</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">emotion, a brief distress</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">for the Other's distress<br />that yet</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">slyly <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">eludes </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">escapes</span> </span>the </strong><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">ache of</span> </span>insistent </strong><strong style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">ache of</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">Bodhichitta ~ <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">the </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">that</span> </span>spirit of compassion<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;">,</span> </strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">that </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">which</span> </span>yearns only to cherish Other ~</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">but rather, <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">escapes </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">eludes</span> </span>through the loophole</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">of misdirected</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">non-attachment.</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">Instead, l</span>Let compassion become</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">a verb, a clarifying bell</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">calling the mind to action, or a gaze</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">penetrating through to a more pure land,</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">a New Jerusalem</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">where compassion and sympathetic action<span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102); font-weight: bold;">s are the</span></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;">are the</span> true measure</strong><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153); font-weight: bold;">s</span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">of righteousness.</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">For faith without works</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">is dead faith, a life-less statue</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">erected in the posture of faith</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">but worshiped inside</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">a temple</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">made of words.</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"></strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">Let compassion fly!</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">Let compassion be the winged horse</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">that carries us forward, all of us,</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">towards our mutual salvation.</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">All of us</strong><span>,</span><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;">co-arising!</strong><br /><strong style="font-weight: normal;"></strong><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><strong></strong></div><p><strong><br />_______________________________________<br /></strong></p><div style="text-align: center;"><strong>Word Temple</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>In the beginning, is</strong><br /><strong>the deed.</strong><br /><strong>For compassion is</strong><br /><strong>more than a feeling,</strong><br /><strong>more than emotion,</strong><br /><strong>a brief distress </strong><br /><strong>for the Other's distress</strong><br /><strong>that yet eludes the <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">aching</span> call </strong><br /><strong>of <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">aching</span> bodhichitta</strong><br /><strong>through <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">the choice of </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">misguided <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">misdirected</span></span></span></strong><br /><strong>non-attachment.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Instead, let compassion be</strong><br /><strong>a verb, the clarifying bell that calls</strong><br /><strong>the mind to action,</strong><br /><strong>or the penetrating gaze into</strong><br /><strong>a more pure land, a New Jerusalem</strong><br /><strong>where sympathetic action </strong><br /><strong>is the true measure</strong><br /><strong>of righteousness.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>For faith without works</strong><br /><strong>is dead faith, a life-less statue</strong><br /><strong>erected in the posture of faith</strong><br /><strong>but worshipped inside <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">a</span> temple<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">s</span> </strong><br /><strong>made of words.</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Oh let compassion fly!</strong><br /><strong>Let compassion be the winged horse</strong><br /><strong>that carries us forward, all of us,</strong><br /><strong>toward our mutual salvation.</strong><br /><strong>All of us</strong><br /><strong>co-arising.</strong><br /></div><p>___________________________________________________<br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>In the beginning, is<br />the deed.<br />For compassion is </strong><br /><strong>more than a feeling <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">we feel</span>,<br />more than <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">an</span> emotion<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">al state</span>,<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">a brief</span> </span>distress <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">over </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">for</span> another's distress,<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">but</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">inhabiting word temples, </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">confusing</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">evading</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"> but eluding the ache of achy</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"> </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">that yet eludes the aching call </span>of bodhichitta<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">for</span> <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">non-involvement <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">misplaced</span> misguided <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">non-attachment</span></span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">Instead, cCL</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">Instead, let c</span>ompassion be<span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"> should be</span><br />a verb, <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">a </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">the</span> clarifying bell </strong><br /><strong>that calls <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">our minds</span> </strong><strong><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">the mind </span></strong><strong>to action, </strong><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">a</span></span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">the burning</span> glimpse<br />into a more pure land,<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">a</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">the</span> New Jerusalem<br />where <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">sympathy </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">sympathetic action</span><br />is the true measure<br />of righteousness.<br /><br />For faith without works<br />is dead faith, a life-less statue<br />erected in the posture </strong><br /><strong>of spirituality, </strong><strong><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">inside </span>a temple </strong><br /><strong>made of words.<br /><br />Oh let compassion free!</strong><br /><strong>Let <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">compassion</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);">it</span> be </strong><br /><strong><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">a</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">the</span> winged horse<br />that carries us <span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);">all</span> forward<span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);">, all of us,</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 255, 153);"><br /></span>towards our mutual salvation.<br />All of us<br />co-arising.</strong> </p>Frederick Meadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03215820711616444961noreply@blogger.com1