Quarter One

Monologues

Snow White and the Seven Dwarves: The Story of Happy

A dwarf sits alone, center stage, legs crossed. He is whistling a cheery tune to himself. He looks around, then seems to notice the audience. He stops whistling and gets up, smiling a wide grin

"Why, hello there! So many happy faces out there!"

Points to a member in the audience

"Let's see a smile! Ah, there we go! Smiles all around! That's why they call me Happy, isn't it? How clever."

He laughs

"You wanna know something real clever? The way that witch poisoned that delicious apple. That's something no one would have thought of. Pretty little Snow White – dead! No one would have imagined that!

To tell you the truth, my name isn't really Happy. Actually, it's Hubert Fredrick Phineas Ucilies, the first, last, and only! But, you can just stick with Happy.

Since I'm being honest here, I might as well tell you that the story you know about pretty little Snow White is a lie! All lies!"

His happy laugh turns evil

"What do you think about that? You wanna know the truth? I'll tell you the truth! The story no one wants you to know! Well, here we go."

Scenes are acted out in the background silently as Happy tells the story

"It starts with me. A single dwarf, alone in the forest, but happy all the same. I made lots of friends; who doesn't want to be friends with a happy dwarf? But I never stayed long in one place. I had to keep myself alive, and that's not easy for a dwarf.

But, one lucky day, I happened to come to the witch's castle. She took me in, fed me, and provided a home for me. I stayed with her for about a year, helping her cook and clean while she was out doing… whatever an evil witch did.

Now, I didn't know she was evil, but I knew I liked her a lot. She seemed like a good witch; well, she was to me, and for that I will forever be thankful. I wanted to repay her in some way, and she seemed to understand that. So one day, she let me in on the dealio."

Lowers voice

"She told me about Snow White and her wonderfully evil plan. And I was a part of it! I didn't know this Snow White girl, but I happily accepted my mission to repay my debt to the witch.

So I began my journey to find Snow White. On my way, I met up with six other dwarves. They were very friendly dwarves; all but the one they called Grumpy. I tried as hard as I could, but there was no way to make that dwarf crack a smile. I didn't waste my time on him though; I knew I had a job to do!

I traveled with the dwarves, and by some dumb luck, the seven of us all happened to meet up with Snow White. This plan was working better than I had thought! It was simply perfect! I played my part as the happy dwarf, befriending the young Snow White. We traveled through the woods with her; I managed to take over the leader position, though no one seemed to notice. Secretively, I lead them through the woods to the evil witch. There she was, evil in every single way, ready to play her part in the mission.

She offered Snow White that innocent little apple, so sweet against her lips I'm sure! And Snow White took a hungry bite into that little apple, not knowing that it was poisoned."

He laughs evilly

"What a marvelous day that was! The witch was very happy with my job and permitted me to stay with her as long as I wanted. Everything went too smoothly. With Snow White taken care of, the witch was happily ruling in her own way.

The dwarves, on the other hand, mourned pathetically over their loss; even rotten old Grumpy. I decided to continue to play up my part as their friend and mourned along with them. They took the girl's body and placed her in a glass like casket. There was talk of a Prince coming to kiss her, to awaken her from her spell. I knew this wasn't good news, and at the first chance I got, I snuck away to warn the witch.

She had heard talk that this was going to happen and it was decided that we must do something with the spell bound body and rid of her once and for all.

So, late one night, while the dwarves slept, I crept into the room they held Snow White and carefully dragged her out of her glass tomb and out of the house where the witch waited. We brought her body to the witch's castle, down to the lowest level, deep under ground; a place I had never dared enter. In the room, we stood on a high balcony, over looking a deep, wide, open pit that homed monsters you couldn't even imagine!

Only the balcony is shown, but the terrible monsters are heard

"And not just the trolls and beasts you would think of in any other story. No. these creatures were by far the worst things I had ever seen. They were mangled and tangled in the hairs of their own body. Their sharp fangs hung past their lips, longer than my own arm! Their eyes were empty souls of nothing, blood red and hungry. They growled and screamed so loud and terrifying, I wondered how I hadn't heard them before. These creatures were worst then anything the Devil himself could have come up with.

When the terrifying creatures noticed us watching, they grew fiercer and terribly scary. Looking in their eyes was looking at your own death. I backed away quickly as the witch nodded slowly to them, as if processing a thought in her mind; an evil smile parted her lips.

She woke Snow White from her spell and now held the girl inches from the snapping teeth of the monsters below. Snow White screamed and struggled to free herself, but the witch threw her forward into the pit of death. The monsters didn't hesitate, snatching at her just as she left the safety of the balcony. Their teeth ripped at her, tearing her into shreds. The young girl's screams didn't last more than half a second before she was nothing but human scraps and shattered bones, and even those were quickly attacked. The queen smiled with pleasure.

I returned to the home of the dwarves and took my place in bed, tossing and turning the rest of the night. I just couldn't push the images of the monsters out of my head.

When the dwarves finally woke up, they went on with their business, not bothering to check on their glassed body of Snow White.

Later in the week, a young prince rode by on his great white steed.

'Dwarves,' he said to us. 'I have been informed of a young maiden in need of my kiss.' He dismounted gracefully and added, 'But what young maiden wouldn't need a kiss from me?' He chuckled to himself and flashed us a pathetic, white toothed grin.

The dwarves showed him to the room where they kept Snow White, but much to their surprise, her body was gone. They gasped and murmured among themselves.

'She's gone!' one of the shouted.

'Gone?' the prince repeated, dumbfounded.

'I have been fooled by dwarves!" he said, apparently disgusted. He stormed out of the tiny house, taking off quickly on his steed. While the dwarves talked and wondered to each other, I made my escape, knowing my job here was done. They would not be seeing me ever again, and they would never find out what happened to young Snow White's body.

And now, here I am; alone again. Pity, that witch was such a clever witch. All she was doing was feeding her terrifying monsters. I always meant to fix the floor on the balcony, that one that was just sticking up slightly. But she didn't see it, and fell into the pit, eaten alive by her own monsters. What a shame. So back on the road, trying to survive, which isn't easy for a dwarf, you know.

I heard about some deer around here though. I heard some of the wood critters talking about a newborn deer they called Bambi. They talk highly of his mother. She might be a satisfying dinner."

A Jewish Christmas

A man is sitting at a large table, piled high with food. Seven other people are also sitting around the table, talking excitedly and helping themselves to the food – a typical Christmas Day Dinner. They suddenly bow their heads, holding hands, in prayer. The man stands up and kicks his chair, but no one stirs. He is oblivious to the people as they sit silently in prayer.

Does no one care that I'm Jewish? The only damn Jewish person in this family, and here we are, celebrating Christmas and praying. I'm fucking hungry! I don't want to pray to your stupid God! I don't want him to bless my food! Hell, he can poison it if he wants! It's not like I want to eat that damn shit anyway. The ham was obviously the little runt piglet that no one wanted. It doesn't even look right! And my damn mother-in-law can't cook for her own life, yet she thinks she's some miracle chef. She forgot to cut the ends of the string beans and the corn is still cold. The potatoes are chunky and swimming in butter, the carrots are brown and soggy, the stuffing is… well definitely not stuffing. It looks more like cat vomit. And the squash – oh the squash. That damned, orange squash; it's like eating baby food! It's diarrhea in a friggen can.

The only decent thing on the table is the salad my wife made. Fresh lettuce, cold, crunchy cucumbers. Absolutely delicious. And the cranberry sauce – my contribution to this retched ritual. Canned, in fact. Not a human finger touched in, and it's still delicious. Take that, Grandma!

He walks behind the older lady's chair. He does this as he talks about each person in the family. They still do not notice him.

I'm surprised that old lady can tell a fork from a spoon; she can hardly tell her own kids apart, and she still doesn't have a friggen clue who I am. After five years of marriage and my continuous visits to fix their ride mower and gutters, you would think they would remember me.

Her husband isn't half bad, though. Oscar; now there's a guy I like. He never complains and he somehow manages to put up with all the bullshit in this family. Good guy, good guy. And friendly, too. Likes to be kept busy. Great guy. Yet how he managed to produce to ridiculous daughters, my beautiful wife, and one poor, gay son, I'll never know.

Leslie; the blondest of all blondes, and her hair is as black as night, naturally, anyway. Why she dyes it that bleach blonde, I'll never know. It just looks god awful. Blinding, really. Uh-oh, her roots are starting to show, I better not say anything or I'll never hear the end of it.

And then there's Karleen, her twin, yet they're complete opposites. I never saw a worse pair of twins. Karleen keeps her hair its natural black, but so is the rest of her. Her black clothes clash with Leslie's pink blouse and mini skirt. Maybe she just wanted to be her own person. That's understandable. I don't think I could handle being a twin; having someone look exactly like you, even being dressed in the same clothes – it's dehumanizing. Parents really know how to screw their kids up. I'm glad I'm an only child.

Sarah – my wife. I don't understand why she drags me to these things. I try to enjoy myself, I really do. It's not fair to her to listen to me bitch about how much I hated her family. Not like mine's any better. I visit my dad every now and then when he's allowed visitors at the prison, and I sometimes catch my mom roaming the streets, running away from rehab again, selling herself to anyone who will take her with a bottle of whisky in hand. I guess that's why we spend time with Sarah's family.

Oh, and how could I forget Anthony, the gay brother. Poor thing. I honestly feel terrible for him. Growing up with three sisters really took a toll on him. He is literally afraid of girls, and I sue as hell don't blame him. They probably dressed him up when they were little, put make up on him and did his nails; poor soul. Didn't his father ever throw a ball around with him or take him fishing? Maybe it just wasn't enough.

Then there's Chris, Leslie's rich husband. I hate that dick. I don't think he owns a single pair of jeans. All I ever see him in is a suit. He probably doesn't even get dirty working on his cars. No, of course not, he has a personal mechanic to do that, who is probably having an affair with Leslie. Not that it matters because Chris is probably having an affair with the cleaning lady. Typical too-rich-to-care family that you see on the soap operas.

He walks back to his own seat as he talks.

So, you want me to pray? Well, I'll pray. I'll pray that Grandma over here learns how to cook a decent meal. I'll pray that Oscar lives a long, happy life. I'll pray that Leslie becomes a fat, thin haired, wrinkly old lady. I'll pray that Chris get caught in his little affair, looses his multi-million dollar company, and lives in a box on the corner of the road for the rest of his life. I'll pray that Karleen doesn't get over shadowed by her sister and can be the person she wants to be and live a happy life. I'll pray that Anthony finds a real nice guy and that he over comes his fear of girls, at least enough so he can talk to his sisters again. I'll pray that Sarah is truly happy with me, no matter what happens. And by God I'll pray that I can put up with this damn family for another holiday like I do every year.

He sits back in his seat, holds his wife's hand, bows his head, and prays silently with the others, smiling. Lights fade out.

10 Minute Play

How to Destroy the World in One Easy Step

A large book sits on the center of a table. A light is focused on the book – the rest of the room is dark. Footsteps are heard; a young, red headed male enters. Lights come on as if he turned on a switch. The table is in the center of the room; a kitchen. Two chairs are placed, one on each end of the table.

The read head drops a pile of mail on a near by counter after shuffling through and mumbling about "buy one get one free!" ads and the phone bills from his "obnoxious brother".

He then turns towards the fridge, but the book catches his eye. He holds the book in front of him, reading the title out loud.

Fred: "How to destroy the world in one easy step."

A scream of "Noo!" is heard, followed by quick footsteps. Another young male tumbles through the kitchen door in fright; he has brown hair. He snatches the book from his brother, almost knocking him over, and quickly, but carefully, places the book back on the table, as far away from them as he can.

Bill: Dude, what is wrong with you?

Fred: [points at book] Don't touch that book! [He withdraws his hand quickly]

Bill: Why not? It was there; I want to look at it.

Fred: Okay, look. See it?

Both stare at the book, Bill with a look of confusion and intense curiosity, tilting his head to one side; Fred with a look of horror and anxiety.

Fred: There; you see it. Just a stupid book, see?

Bill: Can I read it?

Fred: NO! [He stands between the table and his brother]

Bill: Why not? [He tries to push past Fred, but with no success.] Fred, let me read it!

Fred: I can't. It's not mine.

Bill: Well who's is it?

Fred: I don't know… I just found it… a girl gave it to me.

Bill: So, are you going to give it back to her, if you don't want it?

Fred: I can't!

Bill: Why not?

Fred: She doesn't want it.

Bill: So, what are you going to do with it if no one can read it?

Fred: I don't know… [Mostly to himself] It needs to be hidden.

Bill: Hidden? Fred, what the hell has gotten into you?

Fred: Christ, Bill, it's evil! Can't you read? How to destroy the world in one easy step!

Bill: [gives Fred a skeptic look] So, what's the "one easy step"?

Fred: [whispering] I don't know!

Bill: Well, why don't you just open the book and read it and find out?

Fred: NO!

Bill: [growls, frustrated] Why not?

Fred: It can't be opened!

Bill: Says who? It's a book, it's supposed to be opened and read.

Fred: Says the girl! She said I can't open it; if I do, the world will be destroyed!

Bill: [laughs loud and hard, as if Fred has just told him the funniest joke in the world.]

Fred: [Doesn't look amused, in fact, he is angry, and scared.]

Bill: [clears his throat once his laughter has died down, sensing his brother's fear] Well, then, why don't you just burn it?

Fred: Burn it?! Are you out of your mind?!

Bill: Um… no? What's wrong with burning it?

Fred: It… I… Well… [Sighs] I don't know, but don't do it!

Bill: Why not?

Fred: Because. I. Don't. Know. What. Will. Happen.

Bill: Fred, this is insane. It's a god damn book; nothing is going to happen.

Fred: Bill, you don't understand. It's not just a book.

Bill: Are you trying to tell me it has special [Wiggles fingers] magical powers?

Fred: I'm telling you it's evil! This book is the end of the world!

Bill: [Walks over to the phone, sitting on the counter. He picks it up and says hello as if it just rang. He holds the phone out to Fred] It's for you. It said "Press one to destroy the world. Press two if you're a fucking idiot.

Fred: Bill, this isn't funny. [Takes phone and hangs it up] Why can't you take me seriously?

Bill: Fred, you're talking about a book that will supposedly destroy the world.
Fred: And it's a serious matter.

Bill: A book won't destroy the world, Fred!

Fred: This one will!
Bill: You're insane. [Walks over to book, picks it up]

Fred: Bill, don't!

[Fred tackles bill and they both fall to the floor. The book is knocked out of Bill's hands and slides across the floor in front of the door Bill first came through]

Bill: Fred, get the hell off me!

Fred: Don't touch the book!

Bill: [growling] Fine!

[Fred gets off of Bill and dusts himself off. Bill stands, stretches, and cracks his back. Fred proceeds to pace, mumbling about what to do with the book. He stops, shakes his head, mumbles and paces some more]

Bill: Fred, this is ridiculous. Why do you believe this girl? It's probably a prank. Will you just relax?

Fred: [whispering] No. [pause, then louder] No, it's not a prank.

Bill: How do you know?

Fred: I know. You don't think I believed her at first, did you?

[Bill snorts]

Fred: [irritated] I, like you, thought it was a joke. [louder, addressing the audience as well] She approached me, young, pretty, scared. She told me about this book, said it couldn't be opened. I laughed and continued on my way, but she followed me. [high pitched voice, mocking the girl's] "Please! Take this from me! I can't have it anymore. I never want to see it again!" She thrust the book at me and backed away quickly. I though she was insane. I wanted to open the book, but I didn't, and when I looked up again, she was gone. I went to the library to find another book like it, but there was nothing. No author or publication on the front cover, and still, I didn't want to open it. So I googled it, but there's no such book anywhere. This book doesn't exsist, Bill.

Bill: Then how do you have it? How did that girl have it?

Fred: I don't know…

[a car door is heard being slammed shut]

Fred: Shit, that's Christie.

Bill: Great, you're stupid girl friend is here.

Fred: Screw you. At least I have one.

Bill: Dude, she defines dumb blonde.

[a young girl enters through the door, carrying a small bright pink bag, wearing pink heels and a short pink skirt with a frilly white shirt and a pink jacket. She is smiling a wide, white grin.]

Christie: Hello, boys!

[Her foot hits the book on the floor]

Christie: Oh… what's this?

[She picks up the book and reads the title out loud. Fred approaches her and takes the book from her carefully]

Christie: Is this yours, Sweetie?

Fred: Yes, yes it is.

Bill: Don't open it! It might destroy the world! [he throws his arms in the air, mocking an explosion]

Christie: [horrified] Really? Get rid of it!

[Bill laughs, shakes his head, and sits at the table]

Christie: What's so funny? Is this a joke? Bill, this is serious!

Bill: You're as stupid as Fred. A book can not destroy the world.

Fred: How do you know?

Christie: Yeah, how do you know?

Bill: It's a book!

Christie: Is there a bomb inside?

Fred: I'm calling Joe.

Bill: Don't call Joe!

Christie: Can we just get rid of it?

[Fred dials a number on the phone]

Bill: Fred, hang up the phone.

Fred: Joe, hi, it's Fred… yeah, listen, I need a favor…

Bill: Fred, hang up!

Fred: Yes, that's Bill.

[Bill tries to take the phone away. They wrestle over it]

Christie: Boys! Stop it!

[As they wrestle, Christie speaks into the receiver]

Christie: Joe! We have a book called "How to Destroy the World in One Easy Step!"

[Bill groans and gives up the phone]

Fred: Yes? Okay, see you soon.

Bill: Moron.

Christie: Oh, I love Joe!

[Lights out]

[Lights come up: Bill is leaning against the counters. Christie is at the table, flipping through the pages of a Seventeen magazine. Fred stands by the chair where Joe sits, examining the book. It's quiet except for Christie flipping pages. Bill sighs]

Bill: No offense, Joe, but there's no such thing as a book psychiatrist.

Joe: [still examining the book] There must be since I am one.

Bill: It's not a real profession.

Christie: I can't believe they're being so hard on Miley Cyrus! I was the same way when I was her age! [She flips through more pages]

Joe: I think we should open it.

Fred: Are you mad?

Bill: It's just a damn book!

Joe: We'll never know unless we open it.

Fred: We can't!

Bill: This is ridiculous.

Joe: If we find out the one step, maybe we can prevent it.

Bill: [laughs] I bet the one step is just opening it.

[Silence as Joe and Fred stare at Bill, horrified.]

Christie: Mmm, I like the smell of this one! [she holds the magazine to her nose and smells it, breathing loudly, then continues to flip through the pages]

Joe: Of course, why didn't I think of it sooner?

Fred: Now we really can't open it!

Bill: Guys, it was a joke.

Fred: Get this book out of my house!

Joe: This can't be opened. You have to make sure no one opens it!

Christie: Hey, Fred, listen to this, it's your horoscope. "You may be the only one, standing alone, but stay strong; you're doing the right thing. [Fred crosses his arms proudly.] And Bill, yours says, "You're surrounding yourself with idiots; get out while you still can!" [at that, Bill storms out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.] Oooh, Joe, yours says, "Make a move on that certain someone you've had your eye on. You won't regret it! [After Joe's is read, he gets up, takes Christie's face in his hands and proceeds to kiss her, before being ripped away by Fred]

Fred: What the fuck are you thinking?

Joe: I love her!

Christie: Mine says I should get my nails done!

[Fred punches Joe in the face and he falls to the ground. Bill returns, mumbling about how he forgot his keys, then gawks at the sight of Joe holding his nose in pain]

Bill: What the hell did I miss?

Christie: I'm getting my nails done! [She leaves]

Fred: Joe kissed my girl friend!

Joe: [muffled through his hand] I love her!

Fred: No you don't! [He pushes Joe back on the ground as he tries to get up]

Joe: Fuck you, Fred!

[Joe gets up and pushes Fred. They fight and yell at each other. While this goes on, Bill picks up the book, still lying on the table]

Bill: Hey guys! Guess who has the book?

[The two continue to fight, pushing and punching and yelling]

Bill: [louder, over the yells] I'm opening the book!

Joe and Fred: NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

[Bill opens the book just as Joe and Fred rush to stop him. Lights out, silence]

Ending 1

[Voices are heard. It remains dark]

Fred: What happened?

Joe: Are we dead?

Bill: Morons.

[Lights come on]

Bill: We just lost power.

[Fred and Joe are lying on the floor, hands over their heads. Bill is standing by the door. The book is open on the table. The three huddle over the book]

Joe: It's… empty. The pages are blank!

Ending 1.5

Joe: There's a button!
Fred: Don't push the button!

Ending 1.5.5

Joe. There's a button…

[Bill pushes the button. Lights out]

Bill: Oops… lost power again.

Ending

Joe: There's a button…

[Bill pushes button. Lights out]

Voice of God: Game over?!

Voice of Jesus: [laughing] Twenty dollars, God. Pay up!

Voice of God: Screw you, Jesus.

Ending 2

[Two people dressed in green representing aliens]

Alien 1: Dude, the humans just blew up Earth!

Alien 2: No way! Really?

Alien 1: Yea, look!

[Both look out a window. They ooh and ahh]

Alien 1: I wonder what happened…

Alien 2: You don't think they found that book, do you?

Alien 1: "How to Destroy the World in One Easy Step?" The one we created to become [effects] supreme rules of space?

Alien 2: Yeah, that book!

Together: …Nah.

Alien 2: Hey, wanna play Alien versus Humans?

Alien 1: Okay!

[Lights out]

Ending 3

[One light shines on stage over the table where the book now sits, lying open. The three guys lay motionless on the floor. God enters through the door, stepping over the bodies]

God: Uh oh, what happened here? Hmm…

[Phone beeps]

God: Ah, one new text message.

[Reads, groans]

God: Why can't Peter take care of things while I'm gone? [dials a number] What's going on up there?... Oh yes, I think I'm at their house… The whole world?...The Book?! [he sees the book on the table] Oh shit, Pete, they found The Book! What am I going to do with six billion dead people?...Okay, I'll be right up.

[He hands up the phone, takes book, and sighs]

God: I can't believe I created these morons!

[Leaves through door. Lights out]

Ending 4

[Joe and Fred tackle Bill to the floor. Book flies across the room, landing on the floor, still open. Joe and Fred gawk at the book. Bill laughs.]

Bill: April Fool's!

[Lights out]

Ending 4.5

Bill: See? Just a book.

Fred: But… but…

Joe: Damn it! Now I have to get a real job!

[Christie walks in]

Christie: Look at my nails!

[Lights out]

Ending 5

[Each ending is done; director is on stage directing each play. (play in a play)]

Quarter Two

Monologues

Vending

A man stands in front of a snack machine. He puts a dollar in the slot and types his selection on the key pad. The machine rumbles to life, vending the man's request. The man reaches in and pulls out a rubber chicken.

Man: What's this? I didn't want this! C4! C4! I wanted C4! [He bands on the machine] Why the hell would you give me a rubber chicken? That's not C4! What am I going to do with a rubber chicken? I never get what I want, even from a damn machine! [He examines the chicken] Besides, I have one.

When I was little, I went to a fair with my dad. You know, father-son time. We played games and won prizes. This one game, we had to shoot three basket balls into a hoop and if you did, you won this really great ball that everyone wanted. I got two in and the third went part way it seemed, and suddenly, it bounced back out. My dad argued with that fat, lazy bastard who probably never shot a basket in his life and all I got out of it was a damn rubber chicken. [He enters another dollar and makes the same selection. He retrieves the item from the machine] A dog bone? Do I look like I want a dog bone?! [He throws the bone across the room]

I always wanted a dog, though. Hell, what boy didn't want a dog? I wanted to feed it my vegetables under the table, I wanted it to sleep by my feet, I wanted to play fetch with it, I wanted to teach it tricks, I wanted it to wait for me after school and greet me with sloppy kisses. For Christmas, I told Santa that the only thing I wanted was a dog. All year, I did my chores and never argued. When Christmas came, you know what I got? A stuffed dog. Sure, it's the thought that counts. But what to you do with a stuffed dog? [He inserts another dollar. He reaches in and pulls out a green crayon]

Oh boy; a crayon. Exactly NOT what I wanted. Not now. Then, I did. I wanted that green crayon to finish coloring my picture of the dog I wanted. Jenny had a green one and she wasn't using it. It's not like I just took it. I had a lot of manners for a first grader. And I liked Jenny. I asked her for the crayon, politely, mind you. She just screamed at me! She would not let me use a crayon she clearly wasn't using. What a bitch. So I grabbed it and she ripped my picture and called me stupid! I was so hurt. I threw the crayon at her as she walked away. It was no longer of any use to me. I lost the girl and the crayon that day. [Another dollar goes into the machine and he pulls out a dead rose]

I lost Mia, too. [He twirls the rose in his fingers] We were engaged; fresh out of high school. We dated for four years and I knew she was the girl I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I had no money for the ring she deserved, not right away. So I got her a rose. A month later, she died. Got into a car accident; she was crushed. I lost her. [Yet another dollar goes into the machine. He makes his selection and pulls our a newspaper]

Money was tight, my world was crushed, and the only job I had was delivering papers. I could barely keep my own empty house. The one Mia and I were supposed to live in together. The one our kids were supposed to grow up in. [He inserts his last dollar. Suddenly, all his money spills out in coins. He walks away from the machine, back stage, casually kicking the items lying scattered on the floor.]

Helpless

A girl stands in a caged like area, behind bars. There is no way for her to get out. She stands, holding onto the bars, her head bent down. She is still for a moment before her head snaps up.

Girl: No. Don't cry. Please, don't cry. [She reaches a hand out between the bars as if trying to grab something] It's okay. Everything will be okay. [She backs away] I shouldn't have said that. I know it's not true. Everything sucks, but it's not your fault. The cancer spread too quickly. Your mom was strong, don't forget that. I wish I could bring her back for you. I'd trade the world to bring her back, but I can't, and it sucks. I should know that. I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to say. I don't want to see you like this. it hurts. I sound like everyone else. Every god damn happy fool. Shut up! You don't know! You don't! You have no fucking idea so stop telling me everything will be okay. It's nothing but false hope. [She reaches out again with both hands]

Shh. It's okay. I'm here; don't cry. [She holds onto the bars] What do I do? What do you want me to say? [Shaking the bars] What the fuck do you want me to say? [She falls to her knees] Nothing I say matters. It doesn't make anything better. I cant do anything for you. I can't stop the pain, I can't make people understand, I can't give you the money you need, I can't give you peace. I can't give your dad his job back. I can't explain to your little sister why she didn't get anything for her birthday. I can't give you the time to work two jobs and go to college. I can't pay bills, health care, insurance… I can't… [She stands up and reaches out again]

But I can give you my love. Isn't that enough? I'm here for you. There's nothing I can do but love you. I love you, okay? Nothing else matters! [She retreats]

But it's not enough. My love won't change anything, won't change the world, wont make people understand. Why isn't that enough? Why can't I help you? I can't watch you suffer any more. [She rushes towards the bars and holds them tightly]

It's not enough! There's nothing I can do! Nothing! [She reaches out] There has to be something. Shh, don't cry. I'm here. Right here. I love you, don't forget that. Things will work out, I promise. I wouldn't lie to you. Please stop. Just stop crying! Shut up! [She shakes the bars]

Jesus Chris, what am I supposed to do? I can't even help myself, how am I supposed to help you? You were there, by my side, pushing me forward when I wanted to give up. When I lost the case in court to the man who raped me, when I was kicked out of the house with no where to go, when I lost myself to drugs and alcohol, when I deliberately drove off the road, screaming, "Why won't it end?!" But you fought with me, you took me in, you knocked sense into me, and you dragged me out of the stupid mess I caused myself. You've helped me, and I can't help you. Nothing I do matters. [Reaches through the bars] I'm sorry. I'm so sorry… [She falls to her knees with one hand still reaching out] Don't cry. It will be okay. We'll be okay. Everything will work out. I promise. [She bends her head down, one hand still between the bars on the floor]

It will be okay… I promise…

[Lights fade out]

10 Minute Play

Expired

Lights up on the set: a single parking meter stands alone, front, center stage, facing the audience. Behind the meter, off to the right, is a small, square table with two chairs. A man sits in the audience, acting as someone watching the show. After a moment of nothing happening, the man walks down and onto the stage. He digs through his pocket and withdraws two quarters, inserting them into the parking meter. After this is done, a woman approaches him from the right, just out of audience view.

Lindsay: Are you George?

George: Maybe I am.

Lindsay: It's so nice to finally meet you! I'm Lindsay.

George: [looking Lindsay up and down] It's a damn fine pleasure to meet you.

Lindsay: [giggles] You're quite a character.

George: I'm told that a lot. Would you like to grab some coffee?

Lindsay: Oh, I'd love to!

[They both sit down at the table, Lindsay the furthest away. A young waitress approaches them.]

Waitress: What can I get you today?

Lindsay: I'll just have a coffee. Black, please.

George: And I'll have your tea.

Waitress: Excellent choice. I'll be back in a moment with your orders. [She leaves]

George: You know, you look strangely familiar.

Lindsay: Really?

George: Yeah. I feel like I've seen you before. Weird.

Lindsay: [laughs quietly] Maybe we knew each other in a past life.

George: Ha, maybe. So, tell me about yourself, Lindsay. What does a beautiful woman like you do?

Lindsay: Oh, don't flatter me! [She giggles] Actually, I'm a third grade teacher.

George: You like kids?

Lindsay: For the most part.

George: Third grade. That must be a tough year.

Lindsay: It can be. It has its moments. But they're good kids. They try hard. They just need someone patient enough to work with them and have fun with it.

George: Sounds like you're the perfect person.

Lindsay: Ha. I sure try.

George: How long have you been teaching?

Lindsay: Well, third grade for three years. Before that I taught high school. Never. Teach. High school. It's a nightmare! Weed, sex, party, sleep. Weed, sex, party, sleep. It's all the same! They don't try.

George: Oh, come on, I'm sure there are some good students. I was never like that in high school.

Lindsay: I suppose. It's easy to overlook the good students when they are so few. Especially when you're teaching in a place like Lawrence.

George: I can imagine how difficult that would be.

Lindsay: And scary.

George: So you made a good decision to leave.

Lindsay: I like to think that. I feel bad though; the teacher's there have given up on the kids. It's so sad.

George: You're doing a good thing; don't worry about that.

Lindsay: Thanks. I've never had anyone listen to me talk about teaching. This is nice.

George: Oh, well, [laughs nervously] I think it's very interesting. I can't imagine what it must be like. You have to be so patient. I've never been very good with kids. Or maybe I'm never good with the parents. The kids seem to like me.

Lindsay: Bad role model?

George: Probably. [He laughs] So I like to have a little fun and pull pranks. What of it?

Lindsay: Well, we all have to grow up at some point.

George: You sound like my mother.

Lindsay: Do I?

George: Well, um, I mean, she's a very nice lady… when you're not her son… not like… well I didn't mean anything bad…

Lindsay: [laughing] Oh, it's just my teaching instincts kicking in. I'm sorry.

George: No, I'm not very good with pretty women. I'm sorry.

[The waitress returns with their orders]

Waitress: Can I get you anything else?

Lindsay: I'm all set, thanks.

George: We're good. Thank you.

Waitress: Alright, enjoy! [exits]

George: So, besides teaching, what else do you do?

Lindsay: Hmm… well, I like to paint. I used to teach in art class, but it's a difficult thing to teach. And after a year of teaching, I realized it wasn't for me. The teaching part, anyway. So I paint on my free time, when I'm not grading papers.

George: An artist, huh? That's sexy.

Lindsay: Sexy? You think?

George: Oh yea. Do you like, paint naked people? I could pose for you sometime…

Lindsay: [laughing] I'll remember that. [She sips her coffee, George stirs his tea around]

Lindsay: You're something else.

George: Is that a good thing?

Lindsay: I think so. You're not like many guys I've talked to. They're all so serious and can't make a good joke. You seem pretty confident and I get the vibe that you like to have fun.

George: Well, I'm glad someone thinks I have a good personality. Many of the girls I've talked to have been very insulted by the things I say, and I apologize ahead of time for anything stupid I say.

Lindsay: You haven't insulted me, and I wouldn't worry about it. You mean well.

George: Yeah, [stands up] I do!

Lindsay: [laughs]

George: [sits back down] Had to stretch my legs.

Lindsay: You know, George, you'll make some girl a very happy person. You have a great sense of humor, and I like that.

George: Ha, I try… George?

Lindsay: Um, what?

George: You called me George.

Lindsay: Isn't that your name?

George: No. What gave you that idea?
Lindsay: Is this some kind of joke? I'm not gonna lie, this one makes no sense. You can do better than that.

George: A joke? You're the one that called me George.

Lindsay: You said you were George.

George: I said nothing of the sort.

Lindsay: [angry, now] Excuse me? Who are you? I'm supposed to be meeting a George. Who are you?!

[A police officer enters from the corner Lindsay entered from. She checks the parking meter, and seeing that there is only a few minutes left, she waits patiently, pen in one hand and a ticket in the other]

George: Oh, so now that I'm not George, you don't like me?

Lindsay: Who the hell are you?

George: I don't think I've done anything wrong. Five seconds ago you said I would make someone very happy and that I had a good sense of humor…

Lindsay: I'll call the cops!

George: …and now you don't like me because I'm not this George character…

Lindsay: WHO ARE YOU?!

George: …What's he got that I don't?

Lindsay: SHUT UP!

George: Well, that wasn't very nice.

Lindsay: Listen to me, buddy, don't mess with me. I am an undercover agent with a gun in my jacket, and I'm pointing it at you under the table.

George: [looks under the table, bumps his head, then emerges]

Lindsay: [rolls her eyes] Idiot!

George: Whatcha gonna do with that gun?

Lindsay: If you don't tell me where George is, I'm going to have to shoot you.

George: George? What do you want with this George person? Could you please put that gun away, you're aiming it at my crotch…

Lindsay: If you tell me what I want and keep quiet, I won't have to shoot you. Now tell me who you are working for and where George is.

George: Well, we never got to talking about me. I work in a button factory for-

Lindsay: SHUT UP! [Leans over the table and pulls George closer, whispering] I'm done playing your pathetic games. If you don't tell me what I need to know, I will shoot you.

[She readies the gun, still concealing it under the table]

[A man enters from the corner the police officer entered in. He walks towards the table where "George" and Lindsay sit, eyeing the officer.]

The Real George: Hey, Pete, there's a cop outside by your car.

Pete: No! I put two quarters in that damn meter! [He runs out][To the officer]: Stop! Hold on a minute!

George: Hello, there. I'm George, a friend of Pete's. I see he hasn't scared you off yet?

Lindsay: [standing up, laughing quickly] Oh, no, he's quite a character.

Pete: Look, ma'am, I still have a minute left! Let me put in another quarter. [Pete inserts another quarter. The officer rolls her eyes and walks back from where she came, just out of audience view]

Lindsay: I'm Lindsay.

George: It's very nice to meet you, Lindsay.

Lindsay: You as well. [She pulls out her gun and shoots George. George falls to the ground. The waitress runs out just as Lindsay runs out towards the parking meter, bumping into Pete. The waitress screams, Lindsay pushes Pete out of the way, and exits where she entered. The waitress dials 911 and is talking frantically into the receiver. Pete returns to the table, mumbling about how he had a minute left, stopping by George's head]

Pete: George, have you been drinking again?

Waitress: [speaking into the phone] Yes, she just shot him and ran!

Pete: I told you not to drink this early in the day!

Waitress: [speaking into the phone] Please hurry!

Pete: George, get up. Where did Lindsay go? I was really hitting it off with her. She thinks I'm this big jokester. She likes me. She said I had a great sense of humor. [He sits at the table, still talking] And she's a teacher and she paints. I told her I should model for her sometime. I mean, look at these guns! [He flexes the muscles in his arms] Yeah, that's right. I'm gonna get arrested for these bad boys.

Waitress: Sir, are you talking to him?

Pete: George? Yeah I am. I think he had a little too much to drink

Waitress: Sir, he's been shot!

Pete: Excuse me?

[Two medical personals enter with a stretcher. An officer enters and talks to the waitress while George is lifted onto the stretcher. They cover his body and take him out the same way they entered.]

Officer: [to waitress] Do you know what she looked like?

Waitress: I only got a brief look at her. She was sitting with that man over there. [She points to Pete who is staring at the spot where George was laying, his mouth hanging open. The officer approaches him. The waitress sobs into her hands and exits back stage.]

Officer: [to Pete] Sir, are you okay? [Pause] Sir, why don't you sit down? I'd like to have a word with you.

Pete: She shot George!

Officer: Sir, please sit down. [She pulls on his arm and he slumps into a chair. The officer sits across from him.]

Officer: What's your name, Sir?
Pete: Uh… Pete. My name's Pete. Pete Phillips. Where's George?

Officer: Pete, George has been taken to the hospital. Pete, what do you know about the girl that shot him? You were sitting here with her, weren't you?

Pete: Lindsay? Lindsay shot no one.

[Another officer enters.]

Officer 2: Linda, we have the list of phone calls from her cell phone. [He hands Linda a piece of paper]

Linda: Pete, the woman you were with is someone we have been trying to catch for a couple of months. We have been tracking the calls she has made, trying to stop her before she's done more damage. She killed another man last week.

Officer 2: Linda, we also matched up the bullets we found to the gun. The gun belongs to this man. [He hands her another piece of paper]

Linda: [in a more serious tone] Pete, who is Lindsay?

Pete: I just met her today.

Linda: Pete, I think you have something to do with this. Have you been working for her?

Pete: What the hell makes you think I've been working with her?

Linda: The gun she has been using belongs to you; Peter Phillips. This is your gun, am I correct? [She hands Pete the paper] She killed a man last week at the back of a 7/11. We used the security camera and found the serial number of the gun. After tracking the number, we found it belongs to Peter Phillips.

Pete: That's me. [Takes the paper from Linda] And that's my gun, but I didn't buy it to shoot people with! How did she get my gun?

Linda: That's what I want to know, Pete. Did you buy this gun for her?

Pete: What?! You can't be serious! That gun was bought for me. I bought it for protection. I've never used it in my life!

Linda: Do you recognize this number? [She shows Pete the list with the phone calls]

Pete: One of them is my cell phone. Do you have it? I lost it about a week back.

Linda: You lost your phone? How convenient.

Pete: I did! You think I've been making the calls to her?

Linda: Who else would?

Pete: I haven't had my phone all week!

Linda: So who has?

Pete: I don't know! If she has my gun, maybe she has my phone, too! She set me up!

Linda: [rubs her face] Pete, if you don't start being honest with me, you're gonna be in jail for a long time.

Pete: Jail?! You can't take me to jail! I haven't done anything! [He slams his fist into the table] I want a lawyer!

Linda: Pete, work with me please. If you think she set you up, prove it. Have you seen her before?

Pete: No, I just met her today! But I swear I'm not working with her! Why would I work with someone who wanted to kill my best friend?

Linda: You tell me. Revenge? Did something happen between you and George?

Pete: Why are you blaming everything on me? You don't have proof.

Linda: We have more proof that you could have had something to do with this then proof that says you're innocent. For all we know, you could be a part of this, and we can't take chances. She has your gun, she's made calls to your phone, and this suggests that you could be guilty. We're going to have to take you down town for further investigation.

Pete: You can't! I didn't do anything wrong! She shot George! I want a lawyer!

Linda: Calm down, you'll get one. I hope you get a good one.

Pete: Wait. Wait! She did look familiar. Last week, around the time my phone went missing, someone came to my house saying that the state was doing inspections on the houses to make sure they were okay to live in. She went into the basement to check things. I wasn't worried about it. As far as I knew, she was keeping me safe! She could have stolen my things when I wasn't looking!

Linda: You said you lost your phone a week ago, when Lindsay "inspected" your home. But, she has been making calls for over a month to your phone…

Pete: Uh, that's what I meant. It must have been a month ago.

Linda: If that's what you meant, why didn't you just say that?
Pete: Uh…
Linda: I'll give you one more chance, Pete.
Pete: She set me up!
Linda: Did she?

[A phone rings, the sound comes from Pete.]

Linda: Give me the phone, Pete. [Linda glances at the caller idea] She stole your phone, huh? [She answers the phone] Hello, Lindsay. This is officer Erb. I'm afraid your friend screwed up big time. Next time, try someone who's a better liar. [She hangs up, turns to Pete]

Pete: It wasn't my idea! George was my best friend! I didn't know what he did to Lindsay until she told me. She said when she was around twelve years old her mother hired George to fix some things in the house. George raped Lindsay and killed her mother. Apparently Lindsay over heard George and her father talking and found out her father hired George to kill his wife, and that's why Lindsay killed her father. The murder last month. And then she must have wanted to kill George.

Linda: So you knew about the other murder as well?
Pete: Yes…

Linda: So you let Lindsay kill your friend?

Pete: No! I didn't know! She didn't say she was going to kill him! I knew he came here every day for a cup of coffee on his lunch break, so we played it off as if we didn't know each other waiting for him to show up. I had no idea she would do this!
Linda: Well, Pete, we're going to have to take you down town. [She stands up. Pete stands up as well. The second officer pulls Pete's arms behind his back and hand cuffs him. The three walk out towards the parking meter. As they leave, the waitress emerges and stands near the table. She pulls of a mask revealing her true identity: George.]

George: [pulls a cell phone out of his pocket and dials a number] Nice try, Lindsay, but you killed the wrong guy. Who would have though Pete had two friends named George? What a coincidence, and lucky for me. Poor guy, he had no idea what was going on. Just saw Pete's car outside and stopped in. It's too bad you jumped to conclusions. If you paid any attention, you would have realized it wasn't me, even after all these years. Better luck next time, Suga. [He laughs and hangs up, and then exits back stage. At that moment, the meter expires. Linda stops, noticing the expired meter and pulls out a pen and paper and writes up a ticket. She hands the ticket to Pete who groans. They exit. Lights fade out.]