First Phone Call of The Day at Work.

Me - Thank you for calling, this is Adam, what can I do for you?
Old Lady - I want tickets to Sunday August 6th.
Me - Would that be for Trey McIntyre or Armitage Gone?
Old Lady - You tell me, which one is better?
Me - Well, it's not that either is better than the other, they are different from each other. Trey McIntyre would probably be described as a mix between ballet and modern dance, he uses contemporary music and is usually really fun to watc-
Old Lady - And what about that other one?
Me - Armitage Gone? Carole Armitage is the choreographer for this company. In the 80's, when she was still dancing, she was called the "Punk Rock Ballerina," so you'll definitely see some of that influence there. In the 90's, she spent a lot of time in Europe choreographing for musical theatre and opera. Her company, which was founded in NY in about 2003, -
Old Lady - You know, Adam. I like Ballet and all, but I just want to know about the companies.
Me - I'm telling you.
Old Lady - I just want to know what is going to be fun to watch, Adam.

Pause.

Me - Well. I guess Trey McIntyre is the safer choice. And generally a fun -
Old Lady - Fine, I want that. What time is the performance?
Me - 2 PM, in the Ted Shaw-
Old Lady - And, Adam, would it be possible to get an aisle seat? One?
Me - I have aisle seats in the 4th row ce-
Old Lady - No. I hate the fourth row, that's too close, I need it further back.
Me - The other option I was going to give would be the 12th row, center orchestra.
Old Lady - I want that.
Me - Are these tickets for anyone who is a student, child, or -
Old Lady (overlapping and interrupting) - No. What about seniors?

Pause.

Old Lady - What?
Me - I asked, are these tickets for anyone who is a student, child, or senior?
Old Lady - There's a discount?
Me - Yes, for anyone 65 or older.
Old Lady - And can I have confirmation number?
Me - I'm sorry, I'm not quite to that part, yet.
Old Lady - Oh. Ok.
Me - So this will be for tw-
Old Lady - Will you mail these tickets or keep them there? What's better?
Me - We usually suggest to hold them in case-
Old Lady - Hold them? Even though the performance is in August?
Me - We suggest that in case you need to change them, or donate them. But we can certainly mail them to you.
Old Lady - You know, last year I had this problem with a performance being cancelled and it seems that everything always has glitch in it sometimes.

Pause to reflect on that last sentence.

Me - Right, I see, the Friday night performance was cancelled, and you went to the Saturday afternoon performance.
Old Lady - Yes, it was awful.

Pause. She didn't have tickets to the cancelled performance, in case you didn't notice.

Me - Well, sometimes, these things happen, that was an act of horrible weather and completely out of our control. Kind of a strange and random occurrence, but anyway are we mailing these tickets or holding them?
Old Lady - Mail them to me. And when will I receive them?
Me - We'll probably mail them next Friday, so you can expect within two to three weeks.
Old Lady - Ok, that's fine.
Me - The total is going to be $85, do you have your credit card ready?
Old Lady - Yes. It'll be a Visa ####, - Wait, what are the seats? You gave me the row number, but not the seat number.
Me - The seats are going to be row M as in Monkey, seats 114 and 115.
Old Lady - Wait, hold on. I'm writing this down. 114 and 115, row F?
Me - The row is M as in Monkey.
Old Lady - Oh. Ok. The card, it's a visa #### #### #### #### expiration, ####. Do you want to-
Me - Do you have the verification code, please?
Old Lady - The what?
Me - The numbers on the back of you card, where you sign your name?
Old Lady - I've never been asked that before. I just bought tickets at Tanglewood, and they didn't ask me for that.
Me - This is something we've been asking for for the past couple of years, it helps in protecting you against credit card fraud and shows us that you have the card in your hand.
Old Lady - Where is it?
Me - On the back of your card, where you sign your name? It should read the last four digits of your credit card number, and then three extra.
Old Lady - It's so hard to read.. ###?
Me - Yes, that's right. I'm processing the number right now, it will take me a moment.

Pause.

Me - Great, you're all set, and, again, we'll mail the tickets probably on next Friday, so you'll get them in 2 to 3 weeks.
Old Lady - Wait, you said you'd mail them in 4 to 5 weeks?
Me - I said we'd probably get them in the mail next Friday and you'd get them in 2 to 3 weeks.
Old Lady - If you're mailing them next Friday then why are you saying I'll get them in 2 to 3 weeks?
Me - It's an estimation, you may get them sooner, but we say 2 to 3 weeks to give us some flexibility in case the mail is-
Old Lady - Ok, that's fine.
Me - You're all set, then.
Old Lady - Great. Thank you, have a good day
Me - Have a good day.

We both hang up.

Does heaven have a window?

Woman sits at a desk, typing and minding her own business. Man enters.

MAN
Hey, do you want to hear this song I wrote?

WOMAN (still typing)
Uh, yeah, sure.

Music begins playing. (I would use my roommate's actual CD, but any CD that sounds satirical and ironic but minus the satire and irony will work.) Man dances and sings along.

MAN
So, what do you think?

WOMAN
Uh, wow, did you do this all by yourself?

MAN
Yeah, all on my own. I just have...something inside me. That I need to get out there. Put into words and music.

WOMAN
Riiiiight. Yes. Have you ever taken a music class before?

MAN
No, I just love the power of music.

WOMAN
I respect your need to create art, but I... I have to go.

Woman exits. Man continues dancing.

Unbalanced.

Man and woman on opposite sides of stage in spotlights. Woman walks over to man and hands him a dinosaur pin.

WOMAN
Here, I got you this dinosaur pin.

MAN
(Puts pin on his shirt)
Thanks.

Woman walks back to her spotlight.

Pause

Man walks to woman gives her a hug.

MAN
Thanks, I really like my dinosaur pin.

Man returns to his spotlight.

Pause

Woman draws a picture, then walks over to man.

WOMAN
Here, I drew this picture for you. See? It you and me together.

MAN
Wow, this is really nice! I'm going to hang this up in my house!

WOMAN
You're welcome.

Pause.

Hey, how come you never give me anything?

MAN
I give you stuff all the time!

WOMAN
Lies! Awful lies!

MAN (pulls gum wrapper out of pocket)
Here, I got you this....gum wrapper.

WOMAN
I don't even chew gum you asshole!

I've Overthought Terrorism.

Me : I think. I should probably stop using my gasoline car. If I continue to use the gas in my car, I continue to pollute, and also, it seems, support terrorist activities. But my thought is, if I stop using my car, I'll have to use a bicycle and quit my job or get in good enough shape to ride it sixty miles round trip five, sometimes six, days a week. I'd likely get a job near my house, which would most likely be at a place that's part of the economically depressed area - Hey, it's cheaper to live where I do than the nice area closer to work. There isn't any public transportation that gets me to work, by the way, and taking a bus defeats the purpose of not using a gas car. So I'm riding a bike to work, is this what they want me to do? You know, the terrorists? They, they, not us, no U.S., but those people? They want me to ride my bike and get a worse job so I have to relinquish all those things that my current job gives me. Or do they want me to think that they want that? Do those people, who have leaders with higher education and brilliant, albeit sinister, if you're on our side, want me to think that I should ride a bike to work and lose all my money? Do they really not want me to have those things? If I didn't, if I stay were I am with work. I'll continue to pollute, and maybe, support terrorism inadvertently. Unless. Of course! There's a webpage that talks about those things. But what if. And I'm going out on a limb here, what if the terrorists run that website. Let's say the website says Mobil supports terrorism, and this is just an example not a fact, Mobil supports terrorism, but BP does not. Do I reverse my thinking and use Mobil, to be safe? In case those Terrorists have tried to outsmart me? So I should use my car, I should get gas from where the news or media or the internet tells me I shouldn't. And I'll help defeat terrorism through inaction, because what they really want is action. Then again, if I'm inactive, I'll get lazy and less aware. So if I'm lazy and less aware, they can attack then. So I should ride my bike and quit my job. If I add the economically depressed populace in my area, it may not be good for me right now, but in the long run?

My head explodes.

Apoc-ellipses

It is the end of the world. Everything is on fire. Even the people in the place.

Jared : Oh my god! Oh my god! What the f-
Sally : Jared! I love you. I need you to know.... I ....
Jared : Oh. Sally. I don't love you, but since this looks like the end.. I...

She hugs him before he can finish. He tries to finish after the hug.

Jared : I've always found it hard to like gi-....
Sally : Jared, I don't care. I'm glad to be dying next to you...

There is a pause.

Jared : ... If I could do this all again, and I mean this... whole thing. I don't think I could.
Sally : ... I would. You know I would... would you ever question me?!

There is a loud boom, Jared wets himself.

Sally : Jared....
Jared : .....

Loud Drums, Loud Thumping

Two women kissing. Drums happen upon them.

1 : What the -?
2 : Just ignore it.
1 : They ignore it.

The drums grow louder, the two grow despondent from the kissing.

2 : Do you think people use the word despondent just to sound smart? Aren't there enough D-E words?
1 : You're thinking about - I can't believe you?
2 : I'm sorry, it's just not very easy to, you know, while those drums are thumping.
1 : That was a horrible sentence.
2 : I'm sorry. I'm distracted.

They top, sit, tap their feet with the drums. 1 bobs her head. 2 bobs her head also, but while 1 nods like she's saying yes, 2 nods like she's saying no.

1 : It's a nice rhythm.
2 : It reminds me of a marching band. Or Nazis.

The drums stop. Their relationship is now over.

Writing in the Future for the Past

A woman sits, brushing her hair. A man sits at a desk, sending an email.

Woman : Would you rather, find that every email you send right there is being sent into the future or into the past?

Man : The Past.

Woman : Oh?

Man : Dear Me, In the future, you will marry a whore named Allison.

Allison (formerly the woman) : Hey. Fuck you.

Man : Dear Me, In the future, you'll divorce the whore and marry someone better . Someone more chaste.

Mary (formerly Allison) : I wasn't that chaste when we met. I mean.. you cheated on your wife with me.

Mary is now a dog. And it barks.

Man : If it's future, I guess I could have more control over what's happening. But if what I write is sent to the past, I'm still writing to the future. I'm writing so I can having something nice to remember for the past.

The dog barks.

Jelly Donut (J. Dont)

A man walks out. His skin is red, with some little specs of black.

Man : I'm here to convince you to stop reproductive cloning. All four of you, well.. maybe more, but I know only four of you are listening. Stem cell research can leading to cloning, which is bad. I know this, because I am a clone. Or. A copy of my father. Not my mother, because then, at the time I was created, I would have been a girl. Believe it or not, whether you thought it was possible or impossible, cloning is happening, right now. Not in public, but in the private rooms of black market scientists. They're standing their with their test tubes and amber medicine jars with droppers with rubber ends filled with the DNA of someone who have enough money but the inability or lack of desire to procreate. I should say, now, they can determine the gender. Then they couldn't. I was probably the third done. Dad died. While I wasn't there for it officially, I heard it was a horrible experience. I assume so. I say officially because if I am a clone of my father, then I am my father, therefore I must have been there. I could've been a vein in his eye, or a piece of hair before it turned grey. When they clone you, they don't implant the memories of the host, at least not yet. He, the man who would have been my father, though I call him Dad anyway, died in some kind of crash. A plane crash, a boat crash, a car crash, a train crash, it doesn't really matter. It was violent, horrible. Mom always said that he was the love of her life. She reminded me everyday that I came from someone very very special. Someone that could never be replaced. The irony of cloning him has not been lost on me. At the funeral, so I'm told, a rogue scientist approached my mother. They do this. They go to funerals and talk to the dead loved ones. First they started outside vets and waited for people who looked sad. It's a dirty business, taking advantage of people who are at their weakest, after having just lost a loved one or a dog. She used the money from his life insurance to fund the "procedure." They say procedure, I say experiment, because, well, look at me. I'm red. They started quickly after Dad was buried, they dug him up and took his DNA. I would think that they could find all of his information from a hair follicle, but then again, I don't know much about cloning.

He pauses.

Man : Do you know anything more than what a sperm reaches the egg and poof, a baby? Do you know how everything matches up? The thousands of miniscule sperm and the single one that makes it? Do you know how a computer works? Do you know how your body works? How about your brain? What I do know about cloning, is that this picture can help explain it.

The following picture is displayed on a screen in the back.

(http://www.ornl.gov/sci/techresources/Human_Genome/publicat/primer/fig11.html)

Man : If you can make sense of it, great. If not, then just hum whatevertelevision show theme song comes to mind for the next minute. Everything you ever wanted to know about cloning. Go.

The man stands and looks at the screen for about a minute. The picture disappears.

Man : When I was created. Cloning was still shunned by mainstream society. Laboratories still wouldn't allow anyone to do it. This kind of science had to be done in kitchens turned into labs, or spaces that started as something and were then turned into a makeshift something else. Like trailers being turned into classrooms. Dr. Weinraub, the scientist who conducted the procedure, performed it in an abandoned shoe repair store. "Hal's Sole Repair." Hal hadn't been there for years. The way this works is that Weinraub would move for every new client he received. Any time someone new came along, he would find a new place to set up shop. This was to protect himself from being caught, arrested, thrown in jail. One of the benefits of the abandon shoe store, aside from it's left over footwear, was that it was directly next to a pastry shop. Every morning, Dr. Weinraub would stop to get coffee and three donuts, and then begin the day with a full belly and a kean mind to conduct his experiments. On one of the more tense days of work, the moment I became less of an idea and more of a reality, he decided to spread out the eating of his donuts. He ate his first, a chocolate, with the first sip of coffee. The second, a powdered, just moments before putting on his gloves to work. At three-forty five, I existed. At three-fortynine, Weinraub ate his final donut for the day, a strawberry jelly donut.

He pauses.

Man : Funny, how a little DNA can change dramatically when a single jelly covered sead enters the picture. I mean, I guess, I could have not existed at all. Rather than being the same color as the inside of that donut, I mean.

The picture returns, but where the human chromosome picture is, a drawing of a jelly donut squirting it's juices is next to it.

Man : I've tried to wash it off. I've tried scrubbing my skin with pan scouring pads until the red of my skin isn't any longer my skin and just my flesh. I can't really tell when my outsides start and where my insides end. It takes droplets of blood in the sink bowl for me to realize I should stop. Or it took. The first five years I knew how to wash. So now, I return to my original concern. Convincing you to stop reproductive cloning. Stop allowing backroom cloning. Because of it, I'm now here. I'm this color. No other human is this color. I am human after all. I have a mother and a father and they were both human. I'm just not the same color and I didn't come out of the same place as everyone else. So please, stop stem cell research.

He leaves, the picture fades. End of play.

Computer.

A person in front of a computer. The person has headphones on, attached to the computer. He, or She, takes them off, unplugs them puts them in a bag. He, or She, sits at the computer, staring.

The computer's voice is deep, resonant, comforting, but not creepy.

Computer : Tell me about the American Civil War.
Person : I don't know any thing about the American Civil War.
Computer : Type these letters in, W. W. W. Dot. G. E. O. C. I. T. I. E. S. Dot. C. O. M, forward slash. P. E. S. 1. 2. 4. 8.

The person does so.

Computer : Good. Now click on the picture of the cannon. User this website, and then get back to me.

The person sits there, reading.

Computer : I have an itch. Will you click your mouse.

The person clicks it once.

Computer : That's good. Can you do it again? Repeatedly?

The person fervently clicks the mouse. As if he, or she, were trying to click a website link that just wouldn't start loading, despite an internet connection and other pages loading.

Computer : Ok. Good. Tell me about the American Civil War.

The person starts to type, while speaking.

Person : Title, the American Civil War, March twenty-second, two thousand six. According to the Theory of War, third edition, "A perfect knowledge of the principles which it is the object of this book to explain, and of their correct application in theory,may easily be acquired by any person of average intellect." Paranthesis, MacDougall, page six, paranthesis.

Is it still winter?

Tim, Kelly, outside. It's cold. Tim shivers.

Kelly : You alright, Tim?
Tim : Yeah. yeah. I'm fine. Just, you know, cold.
Kelly : Yeah. I'm sorry about that. I didn't know it'd be so cold. It's May.
Tim : It's ok. I just, kind of, wish I'd worn a thicker coat. A tshirt and sport coat aren't really enough to keep me warm.
Kelly : Hm. Pretty soon we'll be out of the outside again and into the inside. Where it's warm.
Tim : I can't wait.

Tim shivers, again.

Tim : I'm sorry, I'm trying not to think about it. I'm not trying to remind you that I'm cold.
Kelly : I know. And it's my fault anyway. Thank you again for waiting with me.
Tim : It's ok. I had nothing else to do.
Kelly : I just wish the minutes idn't pass by so momentarily.
Tim : Yeah. And the cold, I'm sorry again, the cold slows everything down. Like how quickly our blood is pumped.
Kelly : Ok. Well. Just a few more minutes.

They stand there. Tim continues to shiver. Kelly continues to stand, expectantly, waiting.

Disappearing Furniture, Living Room

There is a coffee table on a carpet. There is a lawn chair. One person enters the room.

1 : Hey!
2 (offstage) : Yeah?
1 : What happened?
2 (offstage) : What do you mean?
1 : The living room. Where's the couch?
2 (offstage) : Oh. I lent it to one of my friends, they're having a tupperware party.
1 : Oh. Then what do we sit on?
2 (entering) : I've got that lawn chair right there.
1 : Yeah. But what if both of us want to be in here. How will I work at my laptop?
2 : Yeah - I don't know. Sit on the floor, I guess. I'm making myself a cranberry juice and vodka, you want one?
1 : Sure. I guess.

1 stares at the couch. 2 leaves and makes the drinks.

1 : So when are we getting this couch back?
2 (offstage) : Uh. I don't know. Later this week I guess?
1 : It's for a tupperware party?
2 (offstage) : Yep. He's trying to break the region's sales record. Big party in his attic.
1 : Ah. Hey. I heard from one of my ex's this week.
2 (offstage) : Oh yeah?
1 : Yeah. Well. Actually, I looked up the name on the internet and found some personal thing online.
2 (offstage) : I've done that.
1 : Yeah. I guess I'm not the only one who's moved on.
2 (offstage) : Oh really?
1 : I've come to conclusion that once a person has dated me, they will most likely date the person they'll probably stay with for a really long time or marry next.
2 (offstage) : How do you figure?
1 : This ex and the last one. I think they're both dating people they really care about. They're both in relationships that really make sense.
2 (offstage) : Ah. Did you ever meet the new ones?
1 : I think so. I probably didn't talk to either of them that much, though.
2 (offstage) : So how do you know?
1 : I don't, really. Just a feeling. I think I had someone else do the same thing a long time ago.
2 (offstage) : Huh. Ok.

2 reenters.

2 : Here's your drink.
1 : Thanks.

They stand there for a moment.

1 : I wonder if I should call all my other ex's to see how they are..

1 starts to put down the drink, but has arms that don't quite. 1 starts to squat a little and awkwardly puts the drink down.

1 : I really miss the couch.
2 : Me too.

Let's Not Kid Ourselves, I'm Really Not That Interesting.

Man : Let's not kid ourselves, I'm really not that interesting. I have no idea why you're listening to me speak right now. These words right here, are not original they're used a millions times a day. I'd translate them into a different language to seem more worldly, or whatever, but what's the point? Really. And I don't know any other languages well enough to say anything in a different language. I know HOLA. That's it. HOLA is like HULA, that's how I remember it. I know. You're disinterested, so am I. I might as well just sit here and look at you.

He does so for a painfully long time.

Man : I waited too long on that. It went past funny and into killing the joke. I've made something that had promise into something of a compromise. You sat there, maybe laughed, waited and thought, "maybe it'll get better." Well it won't. You should stop paying attention right now. To be completely honest. Which I may or may not have been as of yet, I'm checking someone out in the audience. She's really very attractive. I might ask her out after the performance. If she doesn't leave before I'm done or run the hell out of the theatre before I can sneak around to the front and corner her. You're thinking, why don't you ask her out now? In front of everyone. She'd have to say yes. Yeah. She'd have to.

He shrugs, as if to say, "that's not me."

Man : This morning, when I was brushing my teeth, my gums started bleeding. It reminded me of a show I once watched about people who hunt rodents in the Midwest.

He pauses, remembering.

Man : I thought to myself, I wonder if I should go to the dentist. Or, do I need a new toothbrush. Or, maybe sugar is wearing away my gum skin. I kind of wish we didn't have teeth. I used mouthwash to make up for any lack of brushing I could've done. Sometimes, I find that when I don't brush consistently, like.. before I go to bed every night, my teeth kind of look whiter. Maybe it's because some teeth that are kind of white turn a little yellow to match the rest of the teeth further back in my mouth that are kind of yellow. It's not gross that they are, it's just one of those things that happens when you get older. Like me. I'm older than I was before. I'm boring you. I don't actually know anything about dental hygiene.

He pauses.

Man : The best way to hunt rodents is to sit with a gun and wait in a field. It's really more for fun than anything. Nobody eats squirrel or mouse, unless they're really poor. You know, I'm really kind of bored. I'd like someone else to talk for a while.

He looks to the audience. He finds someone and points at him/her.

Man : You. Come up here and talk about something I haven't talked about yet. Make it interesting.

Whether the person comes up or not. The man takes a seat and takes a drink of water. He yawns.

Man : Great. Thanks for helping. The way this is written can actually change tone depending on that last section. If a person comes up to help me talk, I say, Great! Thanks for helping! if the person doesn't come up, I say, more sarcastically, Great.. Thanks for helping. Isn't it fun to get an insider's look at playwriting? I'm not going to lie, I just made that up. There is no script to this piece. To be one hundred percent honest with you, this is community service for something I'd done a long time ago. Not that long, but long enough to where I'm bored with this whole concept. That's why I don't care. I'm forced to do this. I was visiting old friends from when I was a teenager and living somewhere else. And. Well. I'm sure you can fill in the blanks.

He pauses, reflecting.

Man : I defecated on a cop car. On the hood. It was a dare. Normally my friends aren't like that. It was one of those moments where you say, "Wouldn't it be great if dot dot dot." But no one really expects anyone to do it. I'm sorry to talk about fecal matter. So here we are. On two sides of this stage looking at each other. You're stuck here because you probably paid too much money to sit here and be entertained. You don't want to leave. You might be hoping something great might happen. Like a helicopter or a chandelier falling. You don't want to give up the little morsel of hope you're clinging to. Maybe? Maybe? Maybe? I'm standing here because the judge didn't think that doing that awfully gross thing could be excused because it was just a dare and not serious so it shouldn't count.. How did you all get here? What possessed you to come see this? Was it morbid curiosity? Or just the thought that a play called, "Let's Not Kid Ourselves, I'm Really Not That Interesting" would be a lying title and would actually be really interesting. It's not. I'm sorry. I have to do this for a long time. I'm the first in a new program called, "Tell them what you've done." Instead of doing actual community service where I clean up the highways or help children, law breakers are forced to stand up in front of a crowd of people for some predetermined amount of time and talk about why they're standing there. What you've done. Some of you will have to do this. There's a man in the back who looks like he'll probably be on this stage when I'm not, saying, "Greetings ladies and gentleman, welcome to the Hank show. I'm Hank and I was drunk driving the other day. Now, let me tell you about the joys of drunk driving. I had a friend who had a friend once who said he loved drunk driving when it was snowing out because it's like being in a real life video game of asteroids." And so on. It'll probably be a lot more interesting than what I'm talking about. Sometimes, when I'm in your position, watching a play or a live anything, and the person who is talking makes eye contact with me, I clam up and squirm in my chair. It makes me really uncomfortable, but now, it's fine. How many of you feel like that right now? The squirming part. Raise your hand and I'll stop looking at you. I want you to at least feel like I made an effort. Anybody? Thanks. If you all don't mind, I'm going to write a grocery list for later.

He takes out a pen and paper.

Man : 1. Skim Milk, 2. A dozen eggs, 3. Pasta parenthesis, preferably angel hair pasta, parenthesis. 4. Some kind of meat. 5. Cat food. - I'm sorry. I'm boring you again. I'm almost done though, it looks like, according to the theatrical device that you can't see behind your heads, or, the clock, I've just got a little longer before I'm done. So why don't we hum a song to pass the time more quickly. Like how you're supposed to when you brush your teeth or wash your hands. Row row row your boat should it be? Let's do that. I'll start.

The man hums row, row, row your boat and urges the audience to join in. After about the third time, he stops and walks off stage.

Sunglasses Hut

In a Sunglasses Hut or some other sunglasses store. One man at the counter, the other, a customer, enters.


Man at the counter : Welcome to Sunglasses Hut. You're squinting, and I'd like to stop that.
Customer : What?
Man at the counter : Welcome to Sunglasses Hut. Your eyes look wrinkly, it's because of the sun.
Customer : I'm sorry. Is this the Sunglasses, plural, Hut, or Sunglasses, S apostrophe, Hut, as in a possessive pair of Sunglasses?
Man at the counter : Let me show you some of this Spring's fashion.
Customer : Fine.
Man at the counter : This season, oversized sunglasses are in. We have a wide array of sunglasses that will cover your who face, including your nose.
Customer : I don't care. It doesn't matter, just show me what's cheapest.
Man at the counter : Here are some nice sun glasses by Ray Ban. The joy of Ray Ban is that they are just dark enough to feel like they're helping, but not quite dark enough to do anything, so you'll always feel like you need a new pair of sunglasses. Isn't that smart?
Customer : No. What? How much are they?
Man at the counter : These Ray Ban sunglasses?
Customer : Yes.
Man at the counter : Oh.
Customer : I'm sorry?
Man at the counter : Uhm. These aren't for sale.
Customer : What do you mean?
Man at the counter : Nevermind. Look, we're closed.
Customer : But I want to buy them. There's no one else in here, and I never see anyone in here.
Man at the counter : Please leave, or I'll need to call security.
Customer : I want to take money out of my wallet and put it in your hand in exchange for these sun glasses. I don't understand.
Man at the counter : Look. I'm asking you nicely. Get the fuck out.
Customer : Fine. Jesus, this is stupid.

The Customer leaves. The walls of the Sunglasses Hut fall away to show something of a stage or a training area. An older man in a suit stands behind the wall. On three sides of the stage are bleachers with fake people in them. The older man in a suit exhuberently exclaims :

Older man : Perfect!

Man On Toilet, Robber In House

A man on a toilet, reading a magazine. He hears a noise outside. It is a person in all black clothing holding a lamp.

Man : Hello? Hello? Is someone out there? Jim? Are you borrowing some sugar? That's fine. I wish you'd called first, but go ahead. Jim?

The Robber has stopped in her tracks. She stands. Unsure what to do next.

Robber : It's not Jim.

Man : Oh. Mrs... Jim? Jim's wife? We haven't met yet. I'm Roger. You can call me Rodge -

Robber : I'm don't know who Jim is, but I'm not his wife either.

Man : Oh. Then who are you?

Robber : I'm... Karen.

Man : Karen?

Robber : Yes.

Man : Are you sure?

A pause.

Robber : Karen. Yes. I'm sure.

Man : Are you new? Did Jim let you in? Well anything you need, please help yourself. I trust you.

Robber : Roger.

Man : Rodge.

Robber : Rogde. Do you have your phone in there with you?

Man : No. It's on the counter if you need it. Just make sure it's plugged in when you're done.

Robber : Ok. Sure.

She begins moving items from his living room to outside his window.

Man : You know. It's so strange. You live in one place for a long time. You never meet your neighbors. I mean. I've lived here, what, three years and am just now starting to get to know Jim. I don't even know his wife's name. Does he even have a wife? You don't know, that's right you haven't met him yet. Well I know he's a good guy. He works in marketing or pr or something. Make a pretty good living, I think. He could smoothtalk a bed of nails into being comfortable, I tell you. Oh. I'm sorry. I'm in the bathroom right now. You may have figured it out, as most the apartments here look the same, I imagine. That's the way they build these complexes, I guess. But please, excuse me if I'm being rude by not coming out and really greating you. I had some bad mexican food this afternoon and am afraid to leave this room. What do I need that's out there, though, really? I've got all I could want right here. A magazine, my thoughts, and now I've got you to talk to Karen.

She is gone. The apartment is empty.

Man : Karen?

Opulent: Possessing Or Exhibiting Great Wealth

A larger than an average man sized dollar bill walks out on stage.

Dollar : Hi. I'm a dollar bill. Do you remember me? I used to be worth a gallon of gas. Or a soda from the vending machine. Not just any soda, but a bottle of soda. Cans were only fifty cents. I'm not here to talk about those things though. What I'd like to talk to you about it a little bit written here, on my back.

The dollar turns around and and points to "In God We Trust."

Dollar : Now. I'm not real Goddy, or anything, but I think it's important that you think to yourself at least once today, "Where will my soul end up?" As a dollar bill I can only hope that I'm not used for snorting drugs, or paying strippers for their dancing, but instead rotated between good causes as a donation. But I don't have free will. That's the kicker. I can't choose to not be a coke snorting dollar, I'm merely a victim of circumstance. So that's why I like to think to myself. Where will my soul end up. I think God really likes me, too.

The Dollar sits down.

Dollar : I know what you're thinking. You're waiting for me to say, "When I was a little shiny penny, just hours old I dot. dot. dot." I've never been a penny, a nickel, a dime, a quarter, a fifty cent piece, or a Sacajawea dollar. I've always been a paper dollar bill. And that joke is stupid, but the way. I'm not judging you, but I am letting you know the fact that making jokes about me being another increment of cash is stupid because those jokes are stupid.

Once, I remember being dropped in a puddle. I thought I was done for. Once a dollar gets dropped in water, they become mushy and then stale. They crumble once they've dried. I didn't crumble. A man picked me up and dried me off. He put me in a book of quotes for a time. I remember one quote. It was the one that faced me for the week or two I stayed in the book. It was toward the middle of the book. I'm not sure what the section was, but it was a quote by the Dalai Lama, who I don't normally think is all that smart because once again,

He points to his back where "In God We Trust Is Written."

Dollar : The quote said, "If you want others to be happy, practive compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion." I think that's nice. So here we go. I'm practicing compassion to you. God wants you to believe in him so you can go to heaven too.

He takes a deep concentrated breath.

Dollar : Yeah. I feel really good about that. I hope you do too. There's nothing better than being opulent about my knowledge. Is that correct grammar? I don't know. Maybe you should practice compassion and tell me. Who am I kidding. On the opposite page was another quote, from Shakespeare that said, "Yet I do fear thy nature; It is too full o'the milk of human kindness." Which I don't understand.

Pause.

Dollar : Do you ever wonder that if someone uses a word like opulent, and it's considered a fifty cent word what a dollar word would be? Do you ever think inflation will affect how much words like oppulent are worth?

He takes out a marker and writes all over his chest. He writes www.wheresgeorge.com

Dollar : I've now defaced, my face.

Pause.

Dollar : With out God, there would be no money.

He stands there, swings his arms back and forth, and shrugs.

Presetting the Stage, a love story.

Two people, dressed in blacks set the stage for Romeo and Juliet. There is a fountain, a couple walls and a door. When any of those set pieces speak, the light gets brighter on it, but dimmer on the others. The two people sweep briefly and then leave.

Fountain : Door. Front door. I'm gushing with love. I have so much love flowing in and out and in and out and in and out of me. Like a bleeding Vietnam soldier hit by shrapnel.

Door : Fountain, I'm sorry. We can never be together. We're too different. We're too far apart. I can never get close to you. I'm destined to only swing a few feet closer to you for eternity. Or until Bye-Bye Birdie, when I, too, will become another wall and will be dismantled.

Fountain : But you haven't denied that you love me. Do you love me?

Door : I do.

Fountain : Oh good.

Door : I don't want to live with-

Stage Left Wall : Shut up.

Door : out you.

Stage Left Wall : Shut up.

Fountain : Stage left wall, please. Can't you see we're in love.

Stage Left Wall : Shut up.

Stage Right Wall : Maaaaaarrriiiiiieeeeeeed.

Fountain : Married? Door, did you hear that? We should get married. Despite our distance, let's get married!

Stage Right Wall : Hoooooornblooooooweeeeerrrrrrr.

Fountain : I love you, door.

There is no answer.

Fountain : Door?

There is no answer.

Fountain : Door!?

There is no answer.

Stage Left Wall : Shut up.

Fountain : Oh, dear. Door. Why? How? Oh god.

The fountain ceases to spray water.

Door : Ha-ha! Just kidding!

There is a pause.

Door : Fountain?

There is a pause.

Door : Fountain?

There is a pause.

Door : Fountain!? Oh god. No.

Door falls off it's hinge and screams.

Stage Left Wall : Shut up.

Stage Right Wall : Diiiiiiscooooouuuunt Shooooooeeeees.

How Does One Breath Underwater

The first humans to discover a pond. The acting space is elevated, with a clear glass pool below them. Inside the pool are some animals and vegetation.

Jeb : Man. I am really... really..

Donny : What?

Jeb : I don't know. There's not word for it.

Donny : For what?

Jeb : This feeling I have inside. Or in my mouth. Where I've put all that food.

Donny : Describe it to me.

Jeb : Well. I feel like it's an empty feeling, but I don't want food. I feel, and I'm going out on a limb to invent a word here, feasty.

Donny : Feasty?

Jeb : It means I want something that's food. I want FEAST.

Donny : We've already used that word for food. Do you remember?

Jeb : I'm sorry. You're right, we invent so many words on every day that I can not keep track of them all the time.

Donny : Time. Did you just make that up?

Jeb : Yes. Do you like it?

Donny : Time. Time. Time. It's nice sounding.

Jeb : Thanks.

There is a pause.

Donny : How about "I feel thirsty."

Jeb : Thirsty. I like how is makes me go sss, because that part of my mouth feels the way it sounds. Dry. With out ... with out....

Donny : Liquids?

Jeb : Liquids! Yes. It is liquidless. Being with out liquids.

Donny : We are very smart.

Jeb : Oh wow. Look at that.

Donny : What?

Jeb : I don't know. That shiny stuff on the ground over there.

Donny : I see it.

Jeb : It's amazing.

They walk over to it.

Jeb : Touch it.

Donny touches it.

Donny : It feels. Weird.

Jeb : Like?

Donny : Like... liquid. While we haven't determined what liquid looks like or is made up of, I'm pretty certain, with about 75% certainty that that right there is liquid. More specifically, Shliquid.

Jeb : Shliquid?

Donny : Shiny liquid.

Jeb : Ah. I think. Maybe I'll have some of Shliquid then.

He drinks.

Jeb : Wow. That's amazing. I feel better.

Donny : Good?

Donny drinks.

Donny : Yeah. Wow. That's great.

Jeb : I wonder. Can we walk in this shliquid?

Donny : Like how we walk on the duloor, dull looking floor?

Jeb : If I jump up and down on the duloor like this,

He jumps up and down.

Jeb : Nothing happens. I wonder if the same affect will happen in the shliquid.

He runs and jumps onto the pool of water. He sinks to the bottom. He is still heard talking. Calmly.

Jeb (as an omnipresent voice) : Donny. It's not like the duloor, where I land safely. I sink. Sink? To the bottom where there is a softer duloor. I think I'll start calling the duloor, ground. Ground. Because it's gray and it's round. But now. I'm having a new feeling. That thing we do. I feel like I can't do it anymore. You know when we move about quickly and run and then we do this? And our stomachs move quickly? I can't do that right now at all.

Donny : Breathing?

Jeb : Yes. Breathing. I can't breathing.

Jeb hunches over and floats back to the top of the water.

Donny : Jeb? Jeb?

He cries. Each word is a miserable sounding whine. There is no realization of what he's saying or that he's inventing the word Water.

Donny : Why! Waaah! Waaa-err! Waaaaterrrr!

I Don't Want to Write Plays Anymore

Agent : So. Brian. You have written in a while, huh?
Brian : Well. Yeah, you know. I've been busy.
Agent : I can see that, what, with all your working and everything.
Brian : I've got to make a living somehow, you know?
Agent : You know, Brian, some people - and I'm just saying this because I want you to succeed as a playwrite, you know, it's my job to say this. But some people, Brian, quit their day job and write all the time. Or have jobs where they can sit and write, like tollbooth operators.
Brian : I don't think toll booth operators have time to sit and write. Cars drive through their booths all the time.
Agent : No. Not if there's the electronic charging thing. With the red and green lights. The point is, you need a hit. Or something huge and edgey.
Brian : Right, well, when I start getting my plays produced at every high school in America, I'll quit my job and devote more time to my playwriting.
Agent : ... Yeah. I've gotta tell you, Brian. It's not going to work out if you can't write more. Or better. I need you to write better.
Brian : Ok. I'll do that.
Agent : You know. Plays. Write plays. That are good.
Brian : I've really been thinking a lot about writing articles these days.
Agent : I wouldn't do that.
Brian : Honestly, I think it might give me more to do. Maybe start writing for Mad Magazine or something. I really need a break. And some perspective.
Agent : Really, though. You can do better with plays.
Brian : I don't think I want to write plays anymore. At least not for a while.
Agent : That's horse shit. Let's write a few more, shop them around see how it goes. Maybe more success or consistency in your writing will give you a bit more encouragement to write better.
Brian : Right. Alright. I'll write more.
Agent : And better.
Brian : ...And better.

Today in History.

WOMAN (holding a rabbit's foot)
On this day, in 1979, President Jimmy Carter was attacked by a Swamp Rabbit while on vacation in Plains, Georgia.

Pause.

That is easily the strangest thing I've read today.

Pause.

Furthermore, what is a Swamp Rabbit? And what makes them so violent that they attack our Commander in Chief?

Pause.

Sure, Jimmy Carter is more well known for his post-Presidential humanitarian work than his accomplishments as President, but honestly...a Swamp Rabbit? That sounds like a bad Ed Wood film.

Pause.

Woman walks across stage and hands Man the lucky rabbit's foot.

MAN (Holding a knife)
On this day in 1657, Jews in New Amsterdam which later became the city of New York gained their religious freedom

Pause.

I didn't even know the Jews existed in 1657! That's incredible.

WOMAN
The Jews were in ancient Egpyt in the old-timey days of Jesus.

Pause

MAN
When you say old-timey, you mean the 1800s, right? Before they had cars?

Pause.

Well! Its ironic don't you think that on this day that Jews gained their religious freedom that Adolf Hitler was born? Cause I do.

WOMAN
Yeah, its like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.

MAN
No, that's not ironic, that's a lot of silverware. Are you throwing a party? Are you throwing a party and you didn't invite me?

WOMAN
Uhhhhhh...no. I am not throwing a party.

Man walks across stage and hands Woman the knife.

WOMAN
Hey, thanks.

He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

Chorus of seven people in a semi-circle. Lit only by flashlights they are holding. They chant in a rhythmic fashion.

CHORUS
He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

#1
Once he died our souls to save.

CHORUS
He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

#2
He sacrificed himself to repent for the Curse.

CHORUS
He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

#3
Leading us to victory after years without hope.

CHORUS
He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

#4
Where thy victory? To the victors, go the spoils.

CHORUS
He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

#5
Through him, we believed in him, bringing glory to his name.

CHORUS
He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

#6
But now he works as an angel for the Devil, Lord Steinbrenner.

CHORUS
He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

#7
Johnny Damon, you're betrayal wounds us all.

CHORUS
Return to the angels of Red, Johnny Damon. For we know that he can rise from the Yanks, he cannot die again; Steinbrenner has no mastery over him.

#1
Johnny

#2
Johnny

#3
Johnny

#4
Johnny

#5
Johnny

#6
Johnny

#7
Johnny

ALL
DAMON

He has died, he has risen, he will live again.

Amen.

(Blackout.)

Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah, right? Yeah.

A bar full of people. The audience sits behind the bar and can see the 20-something year old bartender working. There are no seats available. The bartender walks back and forth serving drinks. A man in his late 40's walks up, but doesn't sit down. There are no seats available.

Bartender : What can I get you?
Man : Oh nothing.. yet.

The Bartender moves on to other people. Serving drinks. Someone at end of the bar puts money down and walks out. The Man runs to the stool and sits down. The bartender is tending to someone across the room.

Man : I'd like a drink now.

The Bartender finishes with his customer and walks over.

Bartender : What can I get you?
Man : Scotch.
Bartender : What kind?
Man : Whatever's on your top shelf.
Bartender : Sure.

The Bartender runs over and grabs a glass, reaches for the scotch and begins to pour.

Man : I went golfing today with this guy who worked for the airforce.
Bartender : I'm sorry, what?
Man : My buddy, he used to be in the Air Force. He was a pilot. He still is a pilot, now, with American Airlines. He says they're going bankrupt between the low ticket prices, the high gas prices, the lawsuits, the unions, the fear of terrorism.
Bartender : Oh yeah?

The Bartender gives him the drink.

Man : I'll start a tab.

The Bartender writes a note on a coaster and puts it in front of the Man. He walks to another customer, but stays on the Man's half of the bar. He cleans glasses, and fiddles with coasters. After about five seconds, the man speaks again.

Man : They did a study a while back that said people who fly for the airforce are more likely to crash planes when they fly commercial planes. It said that they weren't used to working as a team, so they were less likely to follow instructions from their copilots or something. I don't believe it, my buddy saved lives in the Air Force. He won't put anybody in danger.

There is a pause.

Man : ...I had a hellish day at work. You know? My boss just wouldn't let up on me. She's a real slave-driver you know? Not because I'm black or anything, because I'm not. I'm white. I think my great-great-great grandmother once slept with a South African, but I think he was white too. And they didn't have a baby. No. My boss is a real bitch. You know, a woman in a high position who is also real proud. If there's anything I can't stand it's a woman who feels like she needs to be proud just because she's in charge. It's not that I hate women being in charge, it's just that with a man, you don't get that pride that turns you into a dick. There are some men who are dicks, but it's not because they're proud. It's because their dad touched them or they got their heart broken or whatever.
Bartender : Yeah?
Man : But my boss just keeps asking for it from me. She keeps sending all my reports back to me saying, this isn't good enough, or it's too sloppy. I'll tell you something, I've been doing the same work for the last twenty years and now this woman expects to just walk into my office and tell me I've been wrong for the past twenty years?

The Bartender pauses, nods, and moves completely across the bar to help other people. The Man starts to begin his next statement, but stops shorts and waits for the bartender to return. The bartender takes about 20 seconds to return. Once the Bartender enters the Man's vocal range. The Man starts again.

Man : I had this great roast pork the other night. It was really succulent and juicy. There was a side of mashed potatoes. I think I was at Applebee's. I'd like to have that some day.
Bartender : Huh... Would you like another?
Man : Sure.
The Bartender refills the man's drink.
Man : I take the bus sometimes, and the other day I was standing there, waiting. This guy comes up to me and he smelled of body odor, you know? He could've been homeless or one of those hippies around here who thinks not wearing deodorant is freeing. I'm not like that. Form and function is what I think about the world. As long as there's some kind of structure and culture, I'm ok. Civilized world is what I'm talking about. Hey, if the whole world decided to stop wearing deodorant, I'd throw my stick in the trash, but until then, I don't want anything to do with these stinky petes.
Bartender : Yeah.
The Bartender hands the drink to the man, writes another note down on the Man's tab and stays in that half, serving people. The Man leans forward and up slightly, to not lose the Bartender's attention.
Man : So this guy starts talking to me about the war and taxes and how everything is related to gas prices and how I should join his socialist group meeting tomorrow. You know what I said? I said, "Heck no, man. I'm not joining your group of commies." You know? There's no room here for those kinds of people. This is America.
Bartender : This is definitely America.
Man : Get a hairc-

The Bartender walks across the bar. Another man, of a similar age begins talking the Bartender in the exact opposite seat the to the Man. The Bartender nods, smiles and cross back over.

Man : Blah blah, blah blah blah, right?
Bartender : ..Yeah.
Man : Hey. I've got a stock tip for you. I heard that -
Other Man : Hey buddy. I've got a stock tip for you!
Man : No. I've got a stock tip.
Other Man : Mine is better!

The Bartender stands in the middle of the bar, unsure where to go. The Man and the Other Man fight. The Man wins and pees on the Other Man. He returns to his seat.

Man : So I heard the Dow is going to go way up real soon.
Bartender : Huh.

The Bartender stops, stares at the man and waits.

Man : Yeah, it's going way up. I heard there was going to be a boom in...

Not used to the Bartender actually listening, he trails off and finishes his drink.

Mathematics Awareness Play

WOMAN
April is Mathematics Awareness Month. Did you know that?

MAN
No, I did not know that. Do you think it is because taxes are due in April?

WOMAN
No one can know for certain. But, what we do know is that April is also International Guitar Month. One might be inclined to think that all nationalities of guitars are the same, but- no! This is false!

MAN
Amazing! And the World Championship Cow Chip Throwing Contest happens in April too!

WOMAN
Did you also know that April is VD Awareness, Stress Awareness, Alcohol Awareness, and Autism Awareness Months? We better start now- we have some celebrating to do!

(Disco ball drops, party lights. Dance music plays Man & Woman start dancing.)

MAN
I never knew there was so much to celebrate in April!

WOMAN
Holy crap! There sure is! Like National Welding Month!

MAN
And Cancer Control Month!

WOMAN
And Chocolate Eaters Month!

MAN
And Publicity Stunt Week!

WOMAN
Be Kind to Animals Week!

MAN
Bike Safety Week!

WOMAN
National Adult Films Week! Ooh-la-la!

MAN
National Lingerie Week!

WOMAN
Reading is Fun Week!

MAN
Egg Salad Week!

(Music stops, Woman and Man stop dancing.)

WOMAN
Egg Salad Week? Do you even like Egg Salad?

MAN
Not really, I just like to live large...you know, Go big or go home.

(Music starts again- They both dance as lights fade.)

TMI

#1 stands next to a tall lamp. She clicks it on.

#1
Ever since I became a vegetarian, my bowel movements occur at the same time every day in the same exact way. I poop at 10:15 am every morning and it slides out like a glistening, gliding puff of white baby powder into the toliet.

(#1 clicks the lamp off and exits, #2 clicks the lamp back on again.)

If I run out of shaving cream in the shower, I use my roommate's Tea Tree Conditioner because someone once told me that using conditioner to shave your legs makes them soft. I don't know if that's true or not, but my legs always come out smooth.

(#2 clicks the lamp off and exits, #3 clicks the lamp on again.)

When I eat pizza with extra garlic, I have the worst constipation followed shortly therafter by explosively, painful, smelly diaherria.

(#3 clicks the lamp off and exits, #4 clicks the lamp on again.)

During summer camp one year, I accidentally left my underpants lying on the ground in the bathroom of my cabin. When our counselor asked who they belonged to and could that person please pick them up, I didn't claim them because all the girls in my cabin had laughed at them because they had blood on them because I had started my period that day. That was my first period.

(#4 click the lamp off and exits, #5 clicks the lamp on again.)

In college, I organized a school trip to New Orleans for a conference. While sharing a hotel room with eight other people, I snuck into the bathroom when I thought everyone was sleeping and had sex with someone else in the group. Later, when another person asked me who I thought that was in the bathroom, I said it was the President of our student group. I don't really know if anyone believed me, but I don't think the President ever denied the allegations.

(#5 clicks the lamp off and exits, #6 clicks the lamp on again.)

On more than one occasion, I have woken up drenched in sweat from dreaming about dinosaurs having sex. And Mickey and Minnie Mouse too.

(#6 clicks the lamp off.)

Blindness In Your Left Eye

1 : I think I'm going blind in my left eye.
2 : What do you mean?
1 : I'm losing sight. In my left eye.
2 : You're only 25, how can that be?
1 : Once when I was in college, I woke up and the sun was shining through a window that faces the sunrise. The shades were down, but there was a little hole for the light to come through and it was hitting directly on my eye.
2 : You haven't been in college for about 3 or so years.
1 : It's been that long?
2 : Yeah.
1 : Wow. I was blind in that eye for about 10 seconds. It freaked me out.
2 : So you think that effected your eyesight now?
1 : It could. I don't know.
2 : Did you ever the see the Baywatch episode where there was a lifeguard who couldn't be a lifeguard anymore because he was losing his vision?
1 : No.
2 : He kept getting really bad tunnel vision. Is that like what you're getting?
1 : I guess so.

There is a pause. 2 slaps 1 across the face.

1 : Shit! Ow! Why did you do that?
2 : I was checking to see if it worked. It's what David Hasselhof did in the episode. It showed the lifeguard that his sight was going and he couldn't lifeguard anymore. You probably should lifeguard.
1 : It's my other eye.

There is a pause. 2 tries to slap 1 again. 1 slaps his hands away as hey says :

1 : Hey-Sto-Cut it out!

This play is not about you.

WOMAN
This play is not about you.

MAN
It isn't? Are you sure?

WOMAN
This play is definitely not about you.

MAN
But isn't this play about me, just a little? I am standing on stage.

WOMAN
Nope. Definitely not.

Pause.

MAN
But I mean- I'm here on this stage in front of this audience and we're performing, so on some level, no matter how remote, wouldn't you say this play is about me?

WOMAN
See, you'd think that, but you'd be wrong. Because this play is not about you.

MAN
But we're talking about me right now, so even...

WOMAN
No. This isn't the play that isn't about you. Right now, we're just on stage talking about the play that isn't about you. So really, this play, that's happening right now, is the play about the play that is not about you.

MAN
Oh. Huh.

WOMAN
Buck up, lad. It took until the 1970s for someone to write a musical about Jesus, and he walked on water and rose from the dead and turned water into wine. Can you do those things?

MAN
Well....no, but I mean, I don't need large scale musical numbers or anything...

WOMAN
You know, Jesus never asked for a play- maybe you should take a more Zen approach to this.

MAN
Oh, so pretend like I don't care.

WOMAN
Yes, apathy usually solves problems. Look how well it worked for Jesus.

MAN
Okay, I'll try.

(Man walks off stage.)

WOMAN
This play is not about him. This play is not about you. This is not the play that is not about him...or you.

All of the words I know

Father and Son.

Father : Son.
Son : Yes, Dad.
Father : Now, with the power of stream of consciousness, I will tell you - and listen closely. All the words I know.
Son : All of them?
Father : Yes.
Son : Why, Dad?
Father : For posterity. Like how some dads name their first born after themselves. Instead of that, I'm giving you something more useful.
Son : Oh. Do I need a pen and paper?
Father : Nope. Just listen. Car, Cat, Ball, Vehicle, Virility, Tea, Tee, Teetime, Teeter, Testomonial, Moan, Map, Compass, Compact, Pact, Parcel, Adoption, You.
Son : Are those all the words you know?
Father : There are more. Donkey, Dirivitive, Derilict, Devo, Devotion, God, Church, Religion, Judaism, Monty Python, Home Run, Knee, Punch, Punching Bag, Pillow, Rock, Ewe, Adopted.

There is a pause.

Father : Bastard, Son, Unwanted, Black Market, Baby, Twenty Five Million Yen, Currency Converter, Twenty Five Thousand Dollars, Impotence.

There is another pause.

Father : Mother, Dead, Failed Abortion -
Son : Thanks, Dad, I think I know those words.

Space Travel

A woman, in a space suit, floats about the stage. She also is projected on the scrim behind her.

Woman : Oh, hello Earth. I'm Amanda. I'm transmitting this to you from thousands of miles away in space.

She pauses for effect.

Woman : Space. The final frontier. Right? Ha. Ha. Ha.

Very unfunny.

Woman : This will be my final video blog, or, vlog, to you. If this is the first time you've watched, I've been keeping these daily and sometimes weekly videos for you to watch. I talk about life, what's it like in space, and all of my exboyfriends back on the ground. Today I'd like to talk about James Pumpernickel Abbott. He lives at 3555 Avantar St in Ohio, Illinois. His phone number is 800-866-2449. He has an 800 number because he gives his phone number out to everyone he meets and thinks more people will call him. More women will call him if it's free. I don't know how this is working for him, as I am in space. Which is why I'm floating. Right now.

Pause.

Woman : On my twenty third birthday, Jimmy, the name he goes by, took me to a pizza place. I don't like pizza. I had spaghetti. They made pretty good spaghetti. The moment we got there, the hostess was giving Jimmy a strange look. I thought maybe she was eyeing him up, so I held his hand tighter and wrapped myself in his arms. I was younger and more insecure. We sat, ordered, and drank our water. The cups were pizza place red plastic. The tables had old pizza place advertisements like you would expect to see. The jukebox played Michael Bolton.

She hums "When a Man Loves A Woman" quietly to herself.

Woman : Halfway through dinner, the hostess walks up to us and says, "Jimmy?" Jimmy cocks his head to the side and says, "Yes?" "I know you," she says, "I'm Marissa. We met last night, at the bowling alley." "Marissa," he pauses. "Yes. How are you?" "I'm fine." "Good." Jimmy turns back to me. Marissa presses on, "I thought you had to go to war today?" "Oh, yeah. It was cancelled," Jimmy replies. This is when my dinner stopped. I left.

Pause.

Woman : And he has a small wiener. I mentioned before that this would be the last vlog for me. You see. I am out of thruster power. I am destined to float in space now. Until I run out oxygen and die. Actually. I don't even know how I got here. I sort of just happened. I saw a sign that said free pogs and followed it. And now I'm in space with video camera equipment. For all I know this could be a tv show within a tv show. When I turn off the camera can you see me. Anyway. This vlog will automatically post itself once I die. Isn't techonology great? Now, I don't want to hear any of those stupid jokes about woman drivers. Oh. I'm out of oxygen now and I'm going to die.

She carefully, but awkwardly lays on the floor. She lets out a deep sigh.

Waiting for the movies.

Man : - I didn't realize it would be sold out.
Woman : We could've left earlier.
Man : Who knew a movie about walruses-walri-walrus...
Woman : Walruses.
Man : Thank. Who knew it would be so popular?
Woman : We showed up to the movie right when it was supposed to start.
Man : Bernie Mac is funny. I wanted to watch his show.
Woman : You've seen that episode before.
Man : In art, there's always something new to discover.
Woman : So what are we going to do then?
Man : Well.. we could...

Man moves towards Woman.

Woman : No thanks.
Man : Come on!
Woman : Definitely not.
Man : Fine.
Woman : Let's watch the first season of Project Runway.
Man : I don't have it.
Woman : I do. In my purse.
Man : You carry these things around with you?
Woman : I planned ahead.

Non-fantasy anticlimatic play about cheesecake.

French: Hey Jen.

Jen: Hey French, what are you doing here?

French: I’m the press associate, so I am here to represent!

Jen: Okay, great. Do you ilke cheesecake?

French: Yeah, I’m okay with it.

Jen: You should go to the rotating restaurant and eat some- I hear the view is delicious.

French: You mean the cheesecake is delicious?

Jen: No, the view is delicious- the cheesecake is mediocre.

Underneath A Mess Covered Desk

Me : Work. Work. Work. I am very bad at work.
Desk Gnome : Hello.

pause.

Desk Gnome : Adam.
Me : Uhm. Hi. What? Who's there?
Desk Gnome : Me. Your desk gnome.
Me : Hello?
Desk Gnome : The six inch little man next to your monitor.
Me : Oh. Hello.
Desk Gnome : I've come to ask you something.
Me : You're a desk gnome?
Desk Gnome : Yes. I live on dirty desks, I wanted to ask you. Nay, implore you-
Me : I didn't know such a thing existed.
Desk Gnome : Well we do. Will you not-
Me : I mean. Wow. Can I take a picture.

Desk Gnome sighs deeply.

Desk Gnome : No.
Me : Oh. Well. What if I took one anyway? You're pretty small and I can run pretty fast.
Desk Gnome : I'll find where you sleep and cut off your balls.
Me : I won't take your picture then.
Desk Gnome : My question, demand, rather is -
Me : How do I know you're my desk gnome? Do other desks in my office have gnomes too?
Desk Gnome : No. Your desk is the only messy one, which leads me to ask you -
Me : How do I know you're not lying to me?
Desk Gnome : Ok look, I know you pick your nose when no one is around.
Me : Wow. You're my desk gnome.
Desk Gnome : Can I tell you what I want then?
Me : Sure, Handy.
Desk Gnome : What? Who's Handy?
Me : You are. Since you're my desk gnome, I thought I'd give you a name, Handy. Do you not like that name, Handy?
Desk Gnome : I already have a name and Handy is a stupid name.
Me : I don't like Desk Gnome as your name. What about Maurice.
Desk Gnome : Yes. Fine. Fine. Maurice will be my name. I'm Maurice. I like picnics and fences. I have a dog named Rusty.
Me : John.
Desk Gnome : What?
Me : Your dog's name is John.
Desk Gnome : Who names their dog John?
Me : Maurice the Desk Gnome does.
Desk Gnome : Yes. Fine. My question?
Me : Go ahead.
Desk Gnome : Please don't clean your desk.
Me : Handy, that's more a request than a question. They're different.
Desk Gnome : Will you not clean your desk?
Me : I don't like your grammar.
Desk Gnome : Don't clean your desk! If you do I won't have a home and I'll die.
Me : Ok.
Desk Gnome : Thank you.

The Desk Gnome leaves. Me starts to hum to himself and clean his desk. A loud, highpitched shreak is heard and it trails off. Me stops looks around, then resumes cleaning.