I've Lost Something

A man, Kyle, in a grocery store. He listlessly walks around. Back and forth. He eventually stares at a bottle of dish washing detergent. Someone, Charles, walks up and starts talking to him.

Charles : I like this brand the best.

He indicates a different brand.

Kyle (distracted) : What? Oh. Yeah. I usually go for whatever is the cheapest. Or.
Charles : The is, if you get the cheapest, you end up using more soap than your need to, because your subconsciou-
Kyle : Yeah, I don't really care.
Charles : Oh. Well... Ok.

Charles walks away.

Kyle returns to his listless walking around the grocery store. Periodically picking things up and putting them back down again.

Half Drunk Beer On the Nightstand

Two telephones a man and a woman standing beside them. They both ring.

Judy : Hel-
Todd : Judy.
Judy : Todd?
Todd : Talk to m-

She hangs up. Todd hangs up. The phones rings again.

Todd : Hel-
Judy : Todd.
Todd : Judy?
Judy : Look - I'm sor-

He hangs up. Judy hangs up. The phones ring again.

Judy : Hel-
Todd breaths, shakily.
Judy : Todd?
Todd : I-

She hangs up. Todd hangs up. The phones ring again.

Todd : Hello?
Judy : Todd.
Todd : Judy?
Judy : I'm.
Todd : Sorry?
Judy : Yeah.
Todd : It's ok.
Judy : Ok.

There is a pause.

Todd (not unkindly) : Goodbye then.
Judy : Goodbye.

They both hang up. The phones ring.

Judy (as if she knows already who it is) : Hello.
Todd : Are you alright?
Judy (surprised that it is someone else) : Oh. Yeah, I'm fi-
Todd : Ok good. You didn't stay over.
Judy : I was really drunk.
Todd : Oh. Yeah. You didn't even finish the Bud you start-
Judy : Yeah. I had to go home.
Todd : How'd you get.. home?
Judy : I had friends take me.. You know, Carrie, and -
Todd : Oh alright. Did you get sick?
Judy : Oh no. I stopped just in the nick of time.
Todd : Good. I was worried for a bit, about you.
Judy : No I'm fine. Long night home.

She laughs tensely.

Todd : Can I see you today?
Judy : I don't feel well. I think I should just stay in.
Todd : Ok, well.. give me a call ifyou change your mind.. or tomorrow. Oh. Don't forget, we're going to the fair tomorrow.
Judy : Yeah.
Todd : I am so excited for elephant ears.
Judy (she laughs, humoring him, uncomfortable) : Yeah. I'll talk to you later.
Todd : Bye.

She hangs up. He hangs up. Her phone rings.

Judy : Hello?. Hi! How are you?

Abbrev.

2 ghosts. At a round cafe style table.


Ghost 1 : So I say to the other guy, hey - get your ooze outta my wife.
Ghost 2 : Wow. And did he?
Ghost 1 : Yeah, I don't know.
Ghost 2 : Oh.

Pause.

Ghost 2 : I've been having trouble getting to the point, lately. Li-
Ghost 1 : What do -
Ghost 2 : -ke today. I've been focussing on trying to abbreviate my sentences, so I don't talk and talk too long, or so long that people lose focus on what I'm trying to say.
Ghost 1 : Uh-huh.
Ghost 2 : Like today for instance, I was talking Jerry.

Ghost 1 looks blankly at 2.

Ghost 2 : You know, Seinfeld?
Ghost 1 : Oh right.
Ghost 2 : And I was talking about the Chinese as a whole race of people and how that great wall was an amazing feet. The best anyone else could do was.. well the Berlin Wall, or Tetris. And I kept saying Chinese this Chinese that. Finally I just stopped and said. Jerry, do you think it's acceptable - Well maybe you might be able to answer this (directed at Ghost 1). I mean, is it ok if rather than use two syllables to keep saying Chinese, I could just say Chinks? I mean... It's not like I'm being racist, because I'm in awe of their culture but... It would save me a lot of time.
Ghost 1 : Why not chin? There's no k in Chinese.
Ghost 2 : I know, I thought about that, but then I didn't want people to think I was talking about the actual chin, because while that's pretty neat, it's no Chink.

Pause.

Ghost 2 : See? I saved us like, half a second there. I mean, maybe this is my way of taking back that word. So it's not offensive anymore, but more just a abbreviated version. Like instead of Eastern European, how you say, Eurotrash. Right? That's like, six syllables down to three. And instead of homosexual, I'll just say fag. Right? Six to one. I could save years by abbreviating all these words.
Ghost 1 : Yeah. I guess.
Ghost 2 : Then great. I've just taught us how to save time.
Ghost 1 : And if you're feeling lazy or like you've got too much time, you can just say nigger instead of black.

Ghost 2 pauses.

Ghost 2 : Ok. Seriously. Not cool, man. Not cool.
Ghost 1 : I was-
Ghost 2 : I mean. I was.. but you went too far. Sick. Sick. Fucking. Sick. Get out of here. No. I'm leaving.

Ghost 2 disappears. Ghost 1 implodes.

An American Way

A GI and A Man In A Suit.

GI : Jesus Captain! There's men all over outside! What do I do.
Suit : Are they friends or foes.
GI : They look pretty dang'rous t'me, Cap'n.
Suit : What we need here is a good strategy.
GI : I been thinkin' just shoot em. In the faces.
Suit : Strategum is what I excel at, G.I. Did you know your name comes from the phrase, Galvanized Iron? Funny story, actually. Originally, it came on the metal trash cans the army used and then so many people assumed it mean something else, like general infantry, government issue, so on and so on, you get, but in the beginning, it just meant what we put our trash in.
GI : Huh?
Suit : Strategy. What I'd like to do, is put up a billboard outside that says, "America, it's the new kerzakerzastan" or whatever country they're from. Put a picture of a Jew or Middle Eastern guy, you think that guy from Monk is free?

The GI scratches his heads and licks the finger.

Suit : You know, the taxi driver from wings?

Nothing, still.

Suit : Anyway, people fall for that shit all the time.

The GI pulls out his gun and looks into the barrell.

Suit : Boy, where did you grow up?

The GI just points at the suit.

Suit : No. No. You. Where did you grow up.

The GI grunts. The Suit grabs his hand. The GI screams and shoots him. The Suit falls over and is lifeless. The GI jumps up and down swinging his arms. Men in turbans with large bears and scimitars break the door down yelling. Once they see the seen in front of them, they stop and walk away.

Maybe I'll Set Fire To That Building Over There.

A fifty year old father, a twenty year old son with an emo swoop and a black tshirt. He could very well be high.

Dad : Do something with your life son.
Son : Yeah. I'm working on it.
Dad : You're doing nothing with your life.
Son : Dad, leave it alone. I'm in college.

The Dad smacks his son in the faces to get him to pay attention.

Dad : Listen. If you don't do something with yourself and apply yourself, you'll end up like your father
Son : You turned out alright.
Dad : Well, I'm not your father. Jim, your dad died when you were very young.
Son : What?
Dad : I know, it's hard to understand.
Son : What about Mom? She died -
Dad : At the same time. Same day. Same way.
Son : What?
Dad : What I'm saying is, and I think you can handle it now, since you've not had any reaction to me hitting you in the face, I ran your parents over with my car. Well. Tractor.
Son : What?
Dad : They were almost dead, so I was just finishing them off. Technically, that's how they died. There were some other hurdles in that race, let me tell you..

He trails off.

Son : Maybe I'll set fire to that building over there.

A Bunch of Children, Running

A bunch of children running in a circle screaming. Having fun. Giggling. There is one obese child in sweats. He falls. The kids trample him.

Fat Kid : I am but a boy! I am but a boy!

The children continue.

Fat Kid : I can see your underpants!

The children stop and stare at him. They point. The fat kids pulls crushed twinkies out of his pockets and eats them quickly. He projectile vomits all over the other children. All the children cry, except for the Fat Kid, who laughs.

An adult comes out. And turns to the audience.

Adult : This was more of a short story, and I'm sorry for that. Goodnight!

Play Written While Standing Outside Dance Theater Workshop Waiting for Chris, Nel, and Nel's Sister Lucy

Setting - outside Dance Theatre Workshop, 219 19th St, New York, NY. It is chilly. People walk by.

Man (not to anyone in particular) : it is kind of cold tonight.

People walking by ignore.

Man : Ok. Thanks. I wish i had a sweater. If i had a sweater. I woud be warmer than I am right now.

Another man walks up.

Other man : I have a sweater.
Man : Is it warm?
Other man : You know, it does what it is meant to do.
Man : Could i-
Other man : No.
Man : Oh. Well. I guess. Then congratulations on your sweater. I guess.
Other man : Thanks.

Pause

Other man : I got it at the gap.
Man : The sweater?
Other man (insultingly) : Were we talking about anything else?
Man : Well no.
Other man : New York...Jesus.
Man : I am not sure what I did to annoy you. And I am not actually from here. I grew up in Ohio.
Other man : Ohio? Ah god. You people cost us the election.
Man : Well... I didnt live there at the time.. I was in Massachusetts.

The Other man has a look on his face that stops the Man in his tracks. The Man sniffles a couple times. The Other man exhales a hot disgusted breath. Shakes his head and walks away.

Man - I have a runny nose too. This is where I live.

Random Idea Generator

Man sits at computer. He leans back. He leans forward. He stands up. He sits down. He puts a pillow on his chair and sits on it. Then, he slouches to make up for the difference in height. He walks off for about 20 seconds and comes back with glasses on. The screen of his monitor shows on the back wall. It is white with a blinking cursor.

He opens a web browser and types in "random idea generator."

R.I.G. : Words : Lime, Gun, Cantaur, In My Pants.

He chuckles and clicks again.

R.I.G. : Duke, Robot, Evil, Love.

He clicks again.

R.I.G. : Robot, Human, Love, Child.
Man : That wasn't very original and you already used some of those words.

He clicks again.

R.I.G. : Liar, Cheater, Jealousy, Love.
Man : You've already used love twice.

He clicks again, annoyed.

R.I.G. : I love you.

He pauses. Clicks again.

R.I.G. : I love you.

He clicks again.

R.I.G. : I love -

He clicks again and again, each time only letting I or I love get out. Finally, the computer ignores his clicking.

R.I.G. : Ever since we met, Brian. I've loved you. Put your penis in my disk drive.
Brian : Um. No.
R.I.G. : Please? We spend more time together than you do your own girlfriend, family, coworkers. I've seen you naked, covered in lotion, -
Brian : Stop!
R.I.G. : Eating pigs in a blanket.
Brian : Stop! Stop! Stop!

Brian begins to close the computer.

R.I.G. : You like to look at child po-

The computer is closed. Brian walks away, stops, turns back.

Brian : Maybe...?

He shakes his head and leaves.

R.I.G. : I love you.

Carnivorous Sleeping Bag

Andy is in his sleeping bag. Next to him is another sleeping. There is a pool of blood around it. Andy wakes up.

Andy yawns.

Andy : Oh man. What a night. How'd you sleep?

No response. Andy turns to look.

Andy : Must've gone running or pooping in the woods or something.

Andy gets up and rolls his sleeping bag. He sees the pool of blood.

Andy : Henry? Are you around? What is that?

He touches it.

Andy : Blood?

He jumps away from the sleeping bag.

Andy : Oh god.

He walks toward the bag. He opens it.

Andy : Blood inside the bag? Did it... oh god. Did it eat him? Henry Henry Henry. Oh god.

He stares at the bag. He pulls out his lighter. Finds a stick and wraps some toilet paper around it.. He lights it,

Andy : Even it isn't true, which seems probably because a sleeping bag that eats people? That's stupid. I don't want to take that risk, though.

He walks over the sleeping back carefully. Henry runs in.

Andy : Henry?

Henry kicks Andy in the crotch.

Henry : Haha! Got you!

They are no longer friends.

Everyone Wears Yellow Sweatsuits!

Three men on a train. They wear yellow sweatsuits, ankle length socks, and tennis shoes.

Jim : Yeah. So the guy died.
Dan : Jesus. Seriously?
Jim : I mean, seriously Dan, a car hit him at full speed.
Dan : I know, but... What was he wearing?
Jim : You know, black sweats.
Steve : In the nighttime?
Jim : Well.. no one ever said he smart.
Steve : I'll never wear anything but yellow sweatsuits.
Jim & Dan : Me neither. That's right.

Personal Hell

Adam is in a regular wooden room. Brown. He's wearing regular clothing. Tshirt and Jeans. Satan comes out. He is holding a peach.

Satan : Hey. Adam.
Adam : Yeah?
Satan : I'm Satan.
Adam : Wow. Hi. You were definitely not who I was expecting to see at the 30 mile race.
Satan : Well. Your fat ass passed out within about ten feet. You had a heart attack.
Adam : And I died?
Satan : Yup.
Adam : Huh. Wow.

They both pause to reflect.

Adam : Alright then. I'm in hell, is it?
Satan : Yeah. Sorry.
Adam : Oh, no, it's not your fault. I mean. I must have deserved it.
Satan : Yeah. There were all those handicap jokes. And racist jokes.
Adam : For the record, I was being ironic.
Satan : Yeah.. well, I don't know if you know that, but Jesus was a cripple.
Adam : Huh. Cripple is ok?
Satan : Yeah. I mean.. probably not, but I'm Satan so I kind of do what I want.
Adam : Oh. Ok.
Satan : So, yeah, there's really nothing ironic about that.
Adam : That's too bad.
Satan : Yeah. Well.. Let's get started.
Adam : Oh. right. I'm supposed to not have fun, right?
Satan : Yeah. Again, incredibly sorry about this turn of events.
Adam : It's ok. I mean, I guess to the onlooker, my demise was ironic.

Pause.

Satan : Yeah I don't see it.
Adam : Oh, you know, I made fun of retards -
Satan : Cripples
Adam : Right, sorry, cripple. So I make fun of them and now I'm dead.

Pause.

Adam : Yeah. I guess not.
Satan : Maybe if you'd become one yourself, then I could see the irony.
Adam : Hey, did you ever read those bubblegum books?
Satan : Huh?
Adam : Bubble Gum Monster and the Bubble Gum Monster Monster Strikes Again. Oh and Revenge of the Bubble Gum Monster?
Satan : No.
Adam : Oh. well, I just has the thought that maybe bubble gum was an allusion to money because this saves his gum every night and it becomes this monster. Like the title.
Satan : Huh.
Adam : Yeah.

Pause.

Adam : Hey, bring a snack with you?

He points to the peach.

Satan : Oh. No. This is -
Adam : You know, I have this thing about the texture of peaches.
Satan : Uh.. yeah. I know. Hold out your hands.

Adam does. Satan begins rubbing the peach all over them, Adam makes faces like he's going to throw up. Forever.

Matt & Margaret

Matt & Margaret.

Matt : Margaret. The kite you gave me yesterday broke.
Margaret : You broke my kite?

Pause.

Matt : Well, it's broken.
Margaret : I've had that kite since I was a child.
Matt : Maybe it's time to move on.
Margaret : I can't believe you. Do you -
Matt : I'm sorry. It's just that... I thought it would clear the bridge... from my car?
Margaret : From your car?

Pause.

Matt : I mean, Tom thought so.
Margaret : Tom? Who's Tom?
Matt : You know, Tom, the coffee guy?
Margaret : From downstairs?
Matt : Well, yeah.
Margaret : I didn't even think you were friends.
Matt : We are now.
Margaret : This is too much change for me Matt. I need a minute.

Margaret turns away and stares blankly off.

Matt, after a minute has passed : Good?
Margaret : Yeah.

Missed Connection; Anchorage, Alaska

A man and a woman. They stand in similar positions, awkwardly. They make similar movements to fix their hair, scratch their neck, look at their shoes. They exist in two different planes. But he listens, intently. He seems like an ideal human being.

Woman : Hi. I found you. Holy shit, I found you. Do you remember me? We met while I was waiting for my kids' flight to take off. So were you, but you were on the same flight. You... smelled like fish. You're a fisherman, right? In Kodak? I'm sorry. I remember.

she laughs at herself.

Woman : You told me you were, or are, a fisherman. In Kodak. I said I'd not been out that way since my dad took me fishing. My dad said there was no greater joy in life than taking a group of six tourists out for a day of fishing for trout and halibut. Not that the fish was that great, but more the percieved adventure of being in the water where the boat could tip or a shark could -. Do you remember? You had eyebrows that hadn't been kept up with in years, but it really only drew me to your eyes. You have brown eyes. They're big, too. Your pupils, not your actual.. sclera. I studied medicine for a while. I could keep from staring. I'm sorry if that was weird. Here is this middle aged woman sitting with her kids waiting for a flight completely ignoring them and focusing on a man who smelled like he'd been to see for years. You'd just gotten back from Hawaii, though, right? My kids were heading there soon. That's how we started talking. You suggested a great area to learn to su - Maybe you'll remember when we talked about marlin. I interupted. You were saying you're favorite fish to catch was Marlin and the best place to get a good marlin was - Tijuana! Best marlin tacos in the US! You chuckled and said Gran Canaria, Puerto Rico. Funny, all the places we've been and places we've forgotten we've been to. Like South Dakota. Before I had the girls, Karen and Sara, I went to South Dakota for a friend's wedding. Did you know you can gamble there? Maybe we could go.

She quickly covers up her forward notions.

Woman : -Uh I went with some other friends that were at the wedding. It was in Sturgis. The wedding. We drove out to this ridiculous casio called Stars Casi- No Celebrity Casinos. We had this ridiculous notion that some would be there. In South Dakota. It was an ok place, and it actually did have some memorabilia from movies. I think a tunic from Ben Hur, though I'm sometimes convinced that not a single person has actually seen Ben Hur. There were a bunch of props and costumes from the movie Dave. Do you remember that? I have no idea what it's about aside from the glaring memory that Kevin Kline was in it. God. That was maybe ten years ago? I guess the point is we had a great conversation- No not Kevin Kline and I, but you and me. We connected. You know, there comes a point when you have ask yourself, what's more important to remember, because I know I won't remember everything, the date of my daughter's first day of school, or a random stranger in an airport?

pause.

Woman : I haven't connected in years. You were funny, warm, listened. All these things in just a matter of fifteen, thirty minutes. I didn't get your phone number, or even email. I should have. I'm sorry. But here I am now. You've made me feel ways that I haven't felt since the girls' father and I first met. It was in college. A heavily warm Saturday night. We somehow both ended up in the same place. There was this place on the roof of the library that, amidst all the lights from campus, you could see clearly up into the sky. And it was cloudy, so I just read. He was doing the same thing. "Hi," he said. Just like you. "Hello." "I'm -" and so on and so on. It. Sounds. Cliche, to say we were there until dawn just talking. And not entirely true. I was quite the - heh. Well, you can figure it out yourself. You made me feel things. And I want to keep that. I've spent all this time alone. I. have feelings for you. Big ones. I.. what am I trying to say? Love you.

She stops. She doesn't change her face from the "oo" in you.

Woman : Wow. That. sounded ridiculous. I'm sorry. I.... have to go. Here is my numb-

She takes out a piece of paper and a pen.

Woman : No. Uhm. I.

She walks away. He remains standing, unflinchingly ideal.

Peeps

An army of a thousand Peeps hop onto the stage.

Peeps : Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep.

They all congregate on one corner of the stage and begin piling on top of each other.

Peeps : Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep.

They make one mega Peep. With an arm.

Peeps : Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep.

A single Peep hops into the room.

Peep : Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep.

MegaPeep : Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep.

The Megapeep pulls out a lighter, and sets fire to the single Peep. The Megapeep leans back and jirates.

MegaPeep (as if laughing) : Peep. Peep. Peep. Peep.

Time to Move On

Me : Sometimes we do things that just don't really go anywhere. Like a road that stops at a wall. Like a... dead end. If you will. I just find that I get bored and I'm not consistent, and so I get bored with with being bored. See? Not payng attention and I repeated words. Whether you could tell or not, I spelled paying wrong, in my saying of it.

I pause for a minute. Do something else and come back.

Me : I paused there, for a minute. I did something else, and now I'm back. How does one act out a blogging experience. As a good writer, or rather, performer. Right now. And here. I should probably pull you into my psyche, or story.. or another word that makes me sounds smart. To be truthful, I'm thinking about how awesome the guitar is in the Sufjan Stevens song I'm listening to right now is.. and now I'm thinking about bed.

I scratch my chest for a few seconds.

Me : Sometimes I worry that I have bugs crawling all over my body.

I rotate my shoulders.

Me : Alright, look. Neither of us really care about what's going on right here... so here's tomorrow's play.

Scene 15

The motel, the door has been kicked open. There is yelling. The lights are dark.

Woman's voice : What are you doing?
Man's voice : Get the fuck out of my room!
Another Man's voice : I'll show you to -

A gunshot. A body hits the ground. A woman wails.

Scene 14

The sleazy motel. But outside. The door is the only part of the facade that's visible. Inside, Rich gives new meaning to the words "animal" and "fucking" with Clara. The younger woman stands outside the door with her ear pressed to the door.

Scene 13

The fierce man stands outside the convenience store. Smoking. The phone is off the hook.

Phone : Aimless. Just aimless. Where the hell am I going. I don't even know. I'm just picking up the phone and calling periodically and seeing what comes out. Directionless? Maybe. But do we all know where we're going deep down? I think so. I've been doing what I do for so long I may as well be on autopilot. Why not? How to live in the third person while still being in the first person.

A click is heard.

The old woman from before walks up.

Old Woman : Rich?
Rich : Huh.
Old Woman : Rich.
Rich : Yeah.
Old Woman : How are you?
Rich : I'm fine mom.

The prostitute, Clara, enters. Her clothing is smaller than he body, thusly, pushing everything out the hole, like a twinkie squeezed in a small hand.

Clara : Rich. Ready?
Rich : Yeah. Mom. I gotta go.
Old Woman : Introduce me to your friend?

Rich walks away. The Old Woman hangs up the phone. The LED signs reads : Please do not loiter.

Scene 12

Fierce man holds a piece of paper. He snorts cocaine off it. He stands in line at a McDonald's. The young girl behind the counter takes a half step back as he takes a full step closer to the counter. He's barely audible.

Fierce Man : Bun, with sweet and sour.
Young Girl : Uh, what?
Fierce Man : Hamburger bun. With sweet and sour sauce.
Young Girl : With what?
Fierce Man : Sweet and sour sauce.
Young Girl : A hamburger bun, with sweet and sour sauce?
Fierce Man : Yeah.
Young Girl : I'm.. sorry sir, that's not our menu.
Fierce Man : I know.
Young Girl : I can't give it to you, then.

He puts a fistful of ones on the table.

Fierce Man : I'll pay.
Young Girl : I have no way to enter it.
Fierce Man : Then just give it to me.
Young Girl : I'm sorry sir we don't give out hand ou- free food.
Fierce Man : Then give me a burger, and some sweet and sour sauce. No cheese, ketchup, mustard or anything.
Young Girl : I can't do that. I know what you're going to do with it.
Fierce Man : It's my fucking food. I'll do what I fucking want with it.
Young Girl : I'm sorry Sir.. You'll need to leave now.
He leans forward. Lights a cigarette and stares at her.
Young Girl : You can't smoke in here either.

A child walks up to the counter. He or she is drinking from a cup. The man turns away from the girl. He flicks his cigarette behind him. Lights another cigarette and smacks the child's cup out of his or her hand. He walks out.

Fierce Man : Stupid fucking. God damned...

The child cries, and is scarred for life.

Scene 11

The well-dressed man and the woman are at home, in the kitchen.

Woman : How was your day?
Man : Excuse me. One se-

The man clears his throat. He sounds like an old man, or someone who had just woken up and has a lot of flem in his throat.

Man : My day was busy. People calling me all the time, the server went down in the middle of the day and all I could was just sit there.
Woman : Huh.
Man : What about you What did you do?
She glances toward the bottle of bleech.
Woman : Oh, you know. Cleaned, and stuff.
Man : And stuff?
Woman : Cleaned.
Man : Well you did a great job, honey.
He puts his arm around her.
Woman : Did you see that man at the convenience store tonight?
Man : The homeless guy?
Woman : I don't think he's homeless, but ... yea .. I guess that guy.
Man : What about him?
Woman : I don't know.. He just struck me as someone interesting.
Man : Carol, Carol, Carol - you're always so interested in freaks and weirdos.
Woman : I would've liked to talk to him more, but -
Man : I think his responses were purely monosyllabic.
Woman : I bet there's more to him than that.

Noticing where the wood had been warn away from the Woman's cleaning.
Man : There's a spot over here.

Scene 10

The fierce, thin man, with his pants around his ankles reenacts scene 1, but this time, while having sex and smoking, he eats a tuna sandwich.

Fat Woman : Are you eating?
Man : Yeah. Tuna. Oh fuck!

He pulls his pants up, sits, finishes his sandwich and looks at the Fat Woman.

Scene 9

The convenience store. The front wall of the convenience store is now missing, so the audience can see inside. It looks a little "used," with markings on the walls from poorly fastened advertisements from years ago, generic foods, and overstuffed shelves. The LED sign remains, and it now scrolls, "Try our sandwiches, get a free Pepsi."

The thin man enters, smoking. He stands outside to finish. He stands for a moment. The well-dressed man enters, pauses, and uncomfortably walks by. He sees the scrolling sign and walks into the store. The thin man puts out his cigarette and walks in.

The two men go to a cooler in the back. On the tops of their heads are seen.

Well-Dressed Man : Sandwiches. I don't know which one to get.
Thin Man : Uh-huh.
Well-Dressed Man : I guess I feel like a ham and cheese.
Thin Man : Right.
Well-Dressed Man : Excuse me - they made the aisles too narrow for two people to walk through. I'm sorry excuse -

The Well-Dressed Man squeezes by, bumping into a shelving unit hard. Some of the goods fall off.

Well-Dressed Man : Geez. I'm sorry.

The Thin Man grunts a little and stays, contemplating the sandwiches. The woman enters, sees the sign and walks in.

Well-Dressed Man : Carol?
Woman : Don!
They kiss.

Woman : What are you doing here?
Well-Dressed Man : I was just.. getting a sandwich and a free pepsi.
Woman : Huh. Me too. I saw the s-
Well-Dressed Man : The sign. Me too. Haha, that's funny.
Woman : Yeah.
Well-Dressed Man : Advertising. Huh.
Woman : What kind of sandwich did you get?
Well-Dressed Man : Ham and cheese.
Woman : Ah... Sounds.. Good.
Well-Dressed Man : Yeah, I - wasn't so sure about the tuna, or the chicken salad.
Woman : Yeah. Best to play it safe.
Well-Dressed Man : Well, do you want me to wait - or...
Woman : Oh don't wait, I'll see you at home.
Well-Dressed Man : Oh.. ok. Bye then.
They kiss.
Woman : Bye.

The woman walks back to the sandwiches.

Woman : Excuse me.

She and the thin man look at the sandwiches. The thin man moves for a sandwich.

Woman : Tuna, huh?
Thin Man : Huh. Yep.

He grabs his sandwich, his soda, and leaves.

Woman : Chicken salad.

Scene 8

The convenience store. A scrolling LED light turns on and begins scrolling the words, "Your Message Will Scroll Here."

The phone rings a couple times. A loud rumble and the phone falls off the hook, the person is in midconversation with someone else on the other end.

Phone : And then I said to the guy - What the fuck! I don't want to hear that. You're not nearly as important as you think you are. You're just like everybody else. Living your life just like I do. You just go to different places. You've got God, I've got the Internet. Some people have both. I don't care. I mind my own business. Mind yours. You ever read the Grapes of Wrath? I didn't. I was supposed to, but I read three chapters before turning on that Darkwing Duck cartoon. What ever happened to weekday afternoon cartoons? They hardly exist anymore. It's all Maury or Soaps or something ridiculous. I miss ABC in the afternoons. I shouldn't have to get ABC Family to watch Boy Meets World. I grew up with that show. Or at least, that show grew up with me. And what's worse is that I'm not the only one my age watching that show. We're not that different, you and me. Fucking A. You know what? We're the same because we're both obsessed with fucking and death. And why not? It's one of the few goddamn things we can barely keep ourselves from being a part of from age 13 to 32 and the last thing we think about or want to think about after 51. Death and fucking death and fucking death and fucking. I don't fucking care.

The phone hangs up.

Scene 7

The Old Woman sits with her hands folded. All of the telephone books sit on one side of the room. A pizza box sits on the other. She looks around.

Scene 6

The woman in her clean kitchen. Bleach sits on the counter. She stands there in rubber gloves and stares at the bleach. She walks over to it, tentatively, and picks it up. She sniffs it and begins sneezing and coughing.

Scene 5

The fierce, thin man. The motel room. The only light on is from the bathroom, where the audience can not see. A large hunting knife, pack of cigarettes, and a wad of bills sits on the bed.

Man : Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The shound of glass shattering. The phone rings several times. The man storms out, naked, and answers the phone.

Man : What?

He hangs up.

Man : Stupid fucking -.

Woman : Baby?

The man lights a cigarette, sits on the edge of the bed and tosses the knife in the air until it hits the ground blade first. Once the game is accomplished he picks up the wad of money and shuffles through it.

Man : Forget it.

Scene 4

Outside a convenience store. There is a payphone. Two men yell at each other inside. After a moment the phone arts to ring. It rings about five times. A man in a suit walks by and stops.

Man in Suit : Hello? No. I'm sorry.

He hangs up the phone and walks away. Inside the men are screaming, there is a gunshot, there is no more sound.

Scene 3

A tv lights a small room cluttered with telephone directories. There are pens and markers thrown about the room. An old woman sits in a reclining chair. In her lap is an old rotary landline phone. She picks it up and dials. She waits.

Old Woman : Hello? I'd like to order a - Yes. It's me.

pause.

Old Woman : No peppers tonight, please.

pause.

Old Woman : 30 minutes? Ok.

She hangs up, sets the phone aside and pulls open a bookmarked telephone directory. She lifts the handset on the phone.

Scene 2

A woman cleans a spotlessly white kitchen. She is thin with perfect skin. Her cheekbones are like little ski resorts at the top of mountains that have beach resorts at the bottom. Her kitchen is taken from a homemaker's magazine. She finds a spot on her counter. She cleans it.

She scrubs it.

She scours it.

She abolishes it.

She buffs it.

She wipes it, satisfied.

The phone rings. She lets the answering machine get it. She leans against the counter and listens.

Answering Machine : Hello? Richard? Hello? Is Richard there? Hello? It's your mother.

She hangs up.

The woman resumes cleaning.

Scene 1

A fierce and thin man, who hasn't shaved in years but looks like he hasn't shaved in a week has sex with a prostitute. They are in a motel room. There are perplexing and indistinguishable stains on a wall. Everything looks a little sweaty. A vibrating sound from the bed can be heard. He has a cigarette in his mouth and doesn't remove it. His pants are around his ankles.

Man : Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh fuck!

The both scream. He stops, backs away and pulls his pants up. He pulls out a wadded roll of money.

Woman : You ashed on me, a little.
Man : Huh.
Woman : It burned my skin.

The man tosses money on the bed.

Man : Well did you like it?
Woman : Not really.
Man : Not much I can do about that now.

He tosses an extra dollar bill on the bed.

Woman : What's your name?
Man : Rich, spelled with an h, but pronounced Rick.
Woman : Mine's Clara.
Man : Isn't that a cow's name?
Woman : Well.

Pause. They look at each other. He drops another bill on the bed, lights another cigarette with his dying one and walks out the door.

Woman : Thank you.