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fuzzybluemonkeys
From January, 2003. I don't remember why I wrote it, but it amuses me, so now it can amuse you too! Or, you know, bore you to death. Whichever.
Characters:
OSV (Off Stage Voice)
AUTHOR
GHOST
ALEX
AUDIENCE MEMBER
The AUTHOR sits at a table on stage right. It is messy and covered with papers, one of which the AUTHOR is writing on.
OSV: Whatcha doin?
AUTHOR: Writing a one act play. Go away.
OSV: Hey, that rhymes.
AUTHOR: Weren’t you leaving or something?
OSV: What’s it about?
AUTHOR: I don’t know yet. Sod off.
OSV: Fine.
AUTHOR: [glares at the audience] What are you looking at? You can all sod off too!
OSV: You’re not even British!
AUTHOR sighs with exaggerated exasperation then gets a look of inspiration and busily starts writing. ALEX enters from stage left.
ALEX: [speaking to someone who is quite obviously not there] You are the worst imaginary friend ever.
[pauses for imaginary response]
Please. I outgrew you a long time ago and yet you keep coming back.
[pause]
Oh, so that’s somehow my fault now? Why did I have to imagine you to be so incredibly needy?
[pause]
I heard that! You think I’m projecting, huh? Well project this! [attempts to punch imaginary friend who isn’t actually there and spins around off balance]
AUTHOR: [muttering to self] This sucks.
ALEX: Hey, you’re the one writing this crap, don’t take it out on me.
ALEX exits from whence he came. AUTHOR growls something incomprehensible and crumples up the piece of paper and chucks it offstage.
OSV: Hey! Watch it!
AUTHOR ignores this outburst and gets back to writing. GHOST enters from stage left.
GHOST: So, I’m dead, and being dead, I have no use for possessions and objects and comfort, and yet I find myself longing for a bed, or maybe just a really nice chair.
Long silence. GHOST shifts uncomfortably.
AUTHOR: Well?
GHOST: Well, don’t look at me. I just say the lines I’m given. You want me to keep talking, then you have to keep writing.
AUTHOR: I didn’t write what you just said.
GHOST: Yes, you did. [walks over to the table where AUTHOR has been sitting and writing and picks up the most recent piece of paper] See. Right here. [clears throat and reads in a bored tone of voice] “Well don’t look at me. I just say the lines I’m given. You want me to keep talking then you have to keep writing.”
GHOST smugly hands the paper back to AUTHOR who reads the lines and frowns.
OSV: Are you finished yet?
AUTHOR: [noticeably startled] Um.. no. [glances at GHOST nervously]
GHOST returns to his spot on stage left.
OSV: Well, what’s the hold-up? I’m ready to be entertained now.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Yeah! Me too!
AUTHOR: I’m working on it.
AUTHOR writes some more. Meanwhile GHOST begins to speak.
GHOST: I could tell you about death. How deep and meaningful it is as the end to the journey of life. Because life is a rod.
GHOST makes a face of disgust and looks at AUTHOR skeptically. AUTHOR hastily scribbles out the last word and rewrites it. Then continues writing as GHOST continues speaking.
GHOST: Road. Because life is a road and eventually you’re going to get into an accident. I mean seriously, if you’re going to be driving on the damn road your entire life there’s no way you’re going to avoid it. Even if the accident isn’t your fault, have you seen some of the drivers out there? [shudders] Scary. Anyway, [while GHOST is speaking ALEX comes out from stage right and peers over AUTHOR’s shoulder] life is a road, blah blah blah philosophy, you get into a horrible accident and you thought you were invincible and didn’t need to wear a seatbelt, so you ended up using your skull to smash through the windshield and are now a dead and rather bloody and mangled corpse.
ALEX: And you thought my part of the play sucked? Mr. Fancypants could write better than you.
AUTHOR: Mr. who-what now?
GHOST snickers.
ALEX: [with exaggerated patience] Mr. Fancypants. [points] He’s standing right there in front of you.
AUTHOR: [trying not to laugh] You named your imaginary friend Mr. Fancypants?
ALEX: I didn’t name him. That’s just his name. And now he’s upset because you’re laughing at him.
GHOST: [seriously] I think you owe Mr. Fancypants an apology.
AUTHOR: [glares at GHOST] You were laughing too!
GHOST contrives to look innocent while ALEX storms offstage.
ALEX: [offended] We know when we’re not wanted. C’mon Mr. Fancypants.
AUTHOR: [holds head in hands] This is really just all kinds of sad.
GHOST: [cheerfully] Don’t forget pathetic!
Characters:
OSV (Off Stage Voice)
AUTHOR
GHOST
ALEX
AUDIENCE MEMBER
The AUTHOR sits at a table on stage right. It is messy and covered with papers, one of which the AUTHOR is writing on.
OSV: Whatcha doin?
AUTHOR: Writing a one act play. Go away.
OSV: Hey, that rhymes.
AUTHOR: Weren’t you leaving or something?
OSV: What’s it about?
AUTHOR: I don’t know yet. Sod off.
OSV: Fine.
AUTHOR: [glares at the audience] What are you looking at? You can all sod off too!
OSV: You’re not even British!
AUTHOR sighs with exaggerated exasperation then gets a look of inspiration and busily starts writing. ALEX enters from stage left.
ALEX: [speaking to someone who is quite obviously not there] You are the worst imaginary friend ever.
[pauses for imaginary response]
Please. I outgrew you a long time ago and yet you keep coming back.
[pause]
Oh, so that’s somehow my fault now? Why did I have to imagine you to be so incredibly needy?
[pause]
I heard that! You think I’m projecting, huh? Well project this! [attempts to punch imaginary friend who isn’t actually there and spins around off balance]
AUTHOR: [muttering to self] This sucks.
ALEX: Hey, you’re the one writing this crap, don’t take it out on me.
ALEX exits from whence he came. AUTHOR growls something incomprehensible and crumples up the piece of paper and chucks it offstage.
OSV: Hey! Watch it!
AUTHOR ignores this outburst and gets back to writing. GHOST enters from stage left.
GHOST: So, I’m dead, and being dead, I have no use for possessions and objects and comfort, and yet I find myself longing for a bed, or maybe just a really nice chair.
Long silence. GHOST shifts uncomfortably.
AUTHOR: Well?
GHOST: Well, don’t look at me. I just say the lines I’m given. You want me to keep talking, then you have to keep writing.
AUTHOR: I didn’t write what you just said.
GHOST: Yes, you did. [walks over to the table where AUTHOR has been sitting and writing and picks up the most recent piece of paper] See. Right here. [clears throat and reads in a bored tone of voice] “Well don’t look at me. I just say the lines I’m given. You want me to keep talking then you have to keep writing.”
GHOST smugly hands the paper back to AUTHOR who reads the lines and frowns.
OSV: Are you finished yet?
AUTHOR: [noticeably startled] Um.. no. [glances at GHOST nervously]
GHOST returns to his spot on stage left.
OSV: Well, what’s the hold-up? I’m ready to be entertained now.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Yeah! Me too!
AUTHOR: I’m working on it.
AUTHOR writes some more. Meanwhile GHOST begins to speak.
GHOST: I could tell you about death. How deep and meaningful it is as the end to the journey of life. Because life is a rod.
GHOST makes a face of disgust and looks at AUTHOR skeptically. AUTHOR hastily scribbles out the last word and rewrites it. Then continues writing as GHOST continues speaking.
GHOST: Road. Because life is a road and eventually you’re going to get into an accident. I mean seriously, if you’re going to be driving on the damn road your entire life there’s no way you’re going to avoid it. Even if the accident isn’t your fault, have you seen some of the drivers out there? [shudders] Scary. Anyway, [while GHOST is speaking ALEX comes out from stage right and peers over AUTHOR’s shoulder] life is a road, blah blah blah philosophy, you get into a horrible accident and you thought you were invincible and didn’t need to wear a seatbelt, so you ended up using your skull to smash through the windshield and are now a dead and rather bloody and mangled corpse.
ALEX: And you thought my part of the play sucked? Mr. Fancypants could write better than you.
AUTHOR: Mr. who-what now?
GHOST snickers.
ALEX: [with exaggerated patience] Mr. Fancypants. [points] He’s standing right there in front of you.
AUTHOR: [trying not to laugh] You named your imaginary friend Mr. Fancypants?
ALEX: I didn’t name him. That’s just his name. And now he’s upset because you’re laughing at him.
GHOST: [seriously] I think you owe Mr. Fancypants an apology.
AUTHOR: [glares at GHOST] You were laughing too!
GHOST contrives to look innocent while ALEX storms offstage.
ALEX: [offended] We know when we’re not wanted. C’mon Mr. Fancypants.
AUTHOR: [holds head in hands] This is really just all kinds of sad.
GHOST: [cheerfully] Don’t forget pathetic!
no subject
Date: 2010-01-25 01:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-25 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-01-25 05:49 am (UTC)You had me at "Mr. Fancypants." LOL'd.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-25 11:15 pm (UTC)Who needs a real boyfriend when you can date Mr. Fancypants?