Category Archives: Plays

Two Clowns

RORY: It’s great! It’s like deep, you know! But funny too!

TIM: Yeah, sure.

RORY: No, really! It’s about mor…mori… morality!

TIM: Mortality.

RORY: Yeah! And about how it makes us equal. Like we’re the same as kings and stuff!

TIM: Try telling the boss we’re equal when he sees how slow you’re going.

RORY: Oh, c’mon, Tim. I wanted to see what it was like back then!

TIM: Then, put some back into it. Do you think a real one would’ve gotten to lollygag and chatter like that?

RORY: But in the play-

TIM: -Exactly. The play. Do me a favor and remember that. A play set at least 500 years ago. When people were buried on top of each other. Didn’t you say he had to dig people up to bury someone new?

RORY: Yeah, but-

TIM: -And when they didn’t have machines. Do you think that clown would’ve been using a shovel if he had a digger like this one?

RORY: No. But-

TIM: -But nothing. Now, stop fooling around and get this dug. Unless you want to tell Mr. Cotter’s family his interment is canceled because you were making a house to last ’til doomsday.

RORY: Oh. Sorry, Tim. I just really- wait. You did read it!


Internal Debate

[A young woman walks into a dorm room, dumps her purse on a shelf, and pauses midway between the desk and the bed.]

INNER CHILD: I’m tired.

RESPONSIBLE ADULT: You can go to bed after you finish your post.

INNER CHILD: But I want to go to bed nowww.

THE PEACEMAKER: How about a quick apology post for not getting anything written and then to bed. [Inner Child whines without speaking. The woman in the room, who hasn’t made a sound, starts to move toward the bed and then pauses uncertainly.]

RATIONALIZATION EXPERT: No problem. People will understand. Besides, writing a post when you’re this tired will probably ruin it.

THE ARTISTE: Don’t be ridiculous. I could write posts in my sleep.

INNER SNARK: Prove it.

THE ARTISTE: I could if we went to bed right now, but-

INNER CHILD: -Yessss! Pleeease!!

RESPONSIBLE ADULT: No.[Inner Child whines as all the other characters but Responsible Adult argue.] No!

THE PEACEMAKER: But we-

RESPONSIBLE ADULT: -We keep our promises. [In the silence, the woman sighs and turns to stare at the desk.]

INNER CHILD: …and then bed?

RESPONSIBLE ADULT: And then to bed.

INNER CHILD: Fine.

[With another sigh, the woman turns to the desk, and the lights fade.]


Take a Number

[A spotlight comes up on a man sitting at a desk in the middle of an otherwise empty stage so that it appears to be the only real thing in a pool of blackness.]

DEATH: Number 51,672.

NUMBER 51,672: Here! [She walks into the light to face the desk.]

DEATH: Good morning, and welcome to the underworld. Please, place your number in the slot. Here are your new identity cards. Hold onto them. You will need them later. This is Than. [Than enters the light.] Follow him to Sorting.

NUMBER 51,672: I’m… where am I going?

DEATH: That will be determined in Sorting. Thank you, good luck, and have a nice day!

THAN: This way please. [Than and Number 51,672 exit.]

DEATH: 51,673. … 51,673.

BERNARD: I… that’s my number, but…

DEATH: Good morning, and welcome to the underworld. Please, place your number in the slot. Here are your new-

BERNARD: -No. I’m not – you don’t… I’m not supposed to be here.

DEATH: [Aside] Not another one. How do they get through Psych? [To Bernard] I’m sorry, Sir. It seems you jumped ahead or were not properly processed. Than will see that you get to Psych for a proper briefing. Please, place your number in the slot. You can get another from Haz after.

BERNARD: But… I… [He looks down at the number.] I didn’t get this from Haz… I don’t know any Haz. I got it at the deli counter.

DEATH: …the deli counter…?

BERNARD: Yes, I was going to get ham slices… you know, for sandwiches?… I picked a number, and then I was here.

THAN: [Aside] Sir, the time continuum.

DEATH: [Aside] They told me they fixed it!

THAN: [Aside] Sir, I know you love that movie, but do you really think that quoting it is appropriate at-

DEATH: [Aside] Than! They told me that it wouldn’t happen unless the deli had the same numbers… [To Bernard] You really picked number 51,673 at a deli?

BERNARD: Yes, sir. Frid’s Deli on Third.

THAN: I don’t see… Wait. There it is. I’ve pulled it up, sir, and… they have identical markers. It would seem they have never bothered to reset and sort.

BERNARD: The machine broke straight-off, but we don’t mind. Most people think it’s funny.

DEATH: Hilarious.

THAN: Sir, should we check with-

DEATH: -Why bother? Put him back on the waiting list. [Than leads Bernard into the shadows.] He’ll be back soon enough. [The lights begin to fade.] Number 51,674.

[The lights come up on a counter on the other side of the stage.]

DELI WORKER: Number 51,673.

BERNARD: Here. I’d like some of the Boar’s Head honeybaked ham, please. And some of that cake, too. We should celebrate.

DELI WORKER: But you… you… this morning…

BERNARD: [Grinning] What’s Frid’s favorite? I’d like to buy him a present.


Daily Inner Dialogue

PLEASURE CENTER: We don’t really need to get up at 6.

LOGIC CENTER: Yes, we do. I figured it out last night.

PLEASURE CENTER: But you were being overly cautious. No, we can get up at 6:30 and still have plenty of time.

LOGIC CENTER: What? No. What data are you basing this off of?

SENSORY INPUT: The bed is very nice and warm, and closing our eyes and drifting would feel very nice.

LOGIC CENTER: You are not helping.

PLEASURE CENTER: That’s right. Reset the phone. Close our eyes. Mmmmm.

LOGIC CENTER: [At a shout but fading into the distance] No, don’t. Don’t listen to them! They’re being unreasonable!


The Little Boy & the Window

[Lights fade in on an empty room with an open window. From it is heard a lazy buzzing. The window’s screen is lying on the floor. A little boy runs into the room with a toy car.]

BOY: Vroooom! Vrooom! [He laughs as he bangs it into furniture and walls.] Vrooom! Honk! Honk! Get out of the way, or you’ll get run over! Vrooom! [The buzzing outside gets louder. The little boy sees the open window and screams.] Daaad! Aaaaaah! Daaad! [He drops the car and dives under the furniture, still screaming.]

DAD: What happened? Why are you under the- [He steps on the screen.] Did they sting you?

BOY: He wants them to! [The buzzing increases.]

DAD: Did they sting you?!

BOY: No!

DAD: Go to your room – no the bathroom! You have your pen?

BOY: Yes, but they’re-

DAD: Good. Use it if you get stung. Close the door until I tell you to open it, ok? Go now! [As soon as the little boy leaves the room, he dives for the window and slams it shut. The buzzing is quieter but still audible. There’s a shifting sound.] Don’t you dare open that window. Not an inch! You get the rest of those bees out of the house and close every window you opened. Do it now, or I swear we will move. And Missy moves with us. [We hear several windows shut abruptly, and the buzzing sound cuts off completely.] Don’t you ever do that again, or I will take them both and leave. You understand me? You will never. See. Her. Again.


The Little Girl & The Plane

LITTLE GIRL: Let go! [She strains to pull a toy plane off the ground.] Let go! It’s mine! [There’s no reply. She yanks on the plane, and suddenly, the plane moves across the floor away from her. Its sudden movement makes her fall backwards.] Ow! Mooo-oooom!

[We hear the sound of rushing footsteps as the little girl cries. The door bursts open, and a woman rushes in.]

MOM: What happened? Are you hurt? [She rushes to the little girl, and seeing no injuries, pulls her close.] What’s wrong, sweetie?

LITTLE GIRL: Mooom, she…[sniff] w-wouldn’t let…[sniff] m-me p-play with my…[sniff] my plaa-aa-aane!

MOM: What? Why not?

LITTLE GIRL: She… [sniff] she says girls [sniff] caaan’t.

MOM: Well, that’s not very smart. [The little girl jumps and stares up at her mom. Simultaneously, the plane moves with a hard thunk.] You can throw all the tantrums you want. It won’t change the fact that girls can play with planes just fine. [The plane clanks again, and the mom looks levelly at the air above it.] And anyone who steals a little girl’s toy is just plain mean. [There’s silence except for the girl’s sniffles. The mom gets up and easily picks up the plane.] Here you go, honey. Play all you want.


The Old Man & The Stairs

OLD MAN: Yeah, I know you hate that picture. You’ve told me so since the day I put it up. [There is silence as the old man moves toward a stairway.] No, I ain’t gonna take it down. You can save your breath and stop askin’ me. [Silence again as the man pauses by the picture as if listening.] Well, I like it, and it’s my house. [He reaches the base of the stairs.] What the- [Grunts and straining sounds can be heard.] You stop that! [More strain.] You let me up the stairs right now, or so help me, I-

WOMAN: Dad? What’s the matter?

OLD MAN: [Glaring at the air in front of him.] Nothing’s the matter.

WOMAN: But… you were shouting. Do you need help up the stairs?

OLD MAN: I’m fine. Go back in the other room and watch your show.

WOMAN: But-

OLD MAN: Now, it’s my house. If I want to shout a bit, I can. You go leave me to it.

After giving him one last worried glance, she leaves.

WOMAN: He said he was fine.

MAN: He didn’t sound fine. If he’s having trouble with the stairs-

WOMAN: His doctor said he’s healthy as a horse!

MAN: But what about his mind? You heard him just now. It might be time.

WOMAN: He’d hate to leave this house…

The old man’s glare at the air hardens.

OLD MAN: [In a whisper] You ever try anything like that again, and I’ll burn this house down before I take down that picture.

The lights go down as the old man easily climbs the stairs.


The Old Woman & The Light

OLD WOMAN: I’m sorry that it bothers you, dear, but I always rock when I knit. I’m not sure I could stop now if I tried. [There is a pause. In the silence, a light flickers.] Yes, it does. It’s an old rocking chair. Nearly as old as I am. [She laughs.] It could be me creaking. [The light turns on and off abruptly and repeatedly while glowing brighter.] Now, now. Remember: it’s not your house anymore.

[A door opens and closes, and footsteps approach. The light blinks off as Peter enters.]

PETER: Hi, Grandma!

OLD WOMAN: Peter! What a nice surprise. Come here, and give me a kiss.

PETER: [He leans down and kisses her cheek. Then, he glances around the room.] Were you on the phone? I thought I heard voices.

OLD WOMAN: [Laughing.] Oh, you know how it is with us old folks. Sometimes, we natter away just to prove we’re still here.


50 Word Play: The Cost of Doing Business

This is an experiment (an experiment within an experiment! Oooh! How meta!). Seriously, though, I’m not sure if there are rules for this. I decided to count only the dialogue and stage directions (not the character names).

CHARON: Condolences, welcome, congratulations, blah, blah, blah. I will be your ferryman for eternity. Place 5 euro in the box and enter.
BUSINESSMAN: Euro? You mean an obol. Here you go.
CHARON: Euro only.
BUSINESSMAN: What?
CHARON: Go to the exchange.
BUSINESSMAN: But the stories say an obol!
CHARON: Since when?
BUSINESSMAN: When? Forever!
CHARON: You’re relying on that?


Teatime

SMOLDER: I hate to say it, but I think teatime is over.

CINDER: Surely not! You’ve barely even poured the cups.

SMOLDER: I know, Cindy, but I did try to warn you.

CINDER: On the contrary! You objected so long that even agreeing to have tea took forever. And now you say we’re finished without the least reason for it.

SMOLDER: It is nearly 4:30.

CINDER: … yes, and? Do you have another engagement? Is there some-

KNIGHT: Die, foul villains!

SQUIRE: Go get them, sir!

CINDER: How dare you!

SMOLDER: Here we go.

KNIGHT: Stand and fight, fiend!

CINDER: Look what you’ve done! That was our great-grandmother’s! Just how do you think you’re going to pay for this?

KNIGHT: You’re the one who’s going to pay.

SMOLDER: Sir, I wouldn’t advise- …Too late.

KNIGHT: Hey! Let me down!

CINDER: That cup was thousands of years old! Do you have any idea how hard it is to find tea sets in that size?

KNIGHT: Put me down, or I’ll… tea sets?

SQUIRE: Why you beast! Take tha-

SMOLDER: I wouldn’t bother her at the moment. She was very fond of that set.

SQUIRE: Aaaaaaaah!

KNIGHT: What have you done to him? If you hurt him, I swear I shall-

SMOLDER: He seems to have fainted.

CINDER: Well, set him on the couch, for goodness sakes. As for you, I demand restitution!

KNIGHT: Then fight, demon! Or do you only attack helpless damsels and squires?

CINDER: Damsels? What the devil is he talking about? What would we want with damsels?

SMOLDER: I did try to warn you.

CINDER: You can’t possibly have objected to tea simply because… Smo, you didn’t.

SMOLDER: Me? Certainly, not. Cousin Comb, however… umm, well, it seems that he is off his medication again.

CINDER: But he lives two kingdoms over!

SMOLDER: I know. He and Aunt ‘Ferno came for a visit a few weeks ago. He went out for a bit – said he was going to stretch his wings. The next thing I know, these knights started showing up. And they always come at teatime. They’re quite amazingly predictable. I have yet to understand-

CINDER: You explained, surely!

SMOLDER: Well, certainly. I could hardly do otherwise. But you’ve seen for yourself how well they listen! They come in swinging, and that’s that. And when I contacted Aunt ‘Ferno, she refused to do anything about it.

CINDER: Of course. You know as well as I do that she would never admit her precious Combustion could do such a thing.

KNIGHT: Er… Pardon the interruption, ladies, but are you saying that a different dragon took the damsels?

SMOLDER: It certainly wasn’t us!

CINDER: Really, damsels are such insipid creatures. I much prefer tea and biscuits.

SMOLDER: Besides, it’s horribly impolite to eat things that can talk.

CINDER: Quite.