Late afternoon. The next day. HUSBAND enters from the kitchen, cradling his beloved, a freshly baked brownie. In a mix of excruciating pain and giddy joy, he waddles sneakily to the couch. This probably takes longer than it should. WIFE enters the front door. She wears a blazer, very professional, all business.
W. What do you think you're doing? H. What? W. You know you are supposed to be laying down, the doctor said no up and down movement for at least two days and here you are baking? H. A man's gotta eat. W. There's left over pasta from last night, there's all kinds of snack foods. You don't need to be baking. H. I'm hungry. You went to work and left me here alone all day long. W. Well, I had to take the morning off to get you in to the doctor, I had to go in. I had a showing on the Mercanti place. That place is huge, great location, and if I can sell it, baby, we are going to the Poconos! H. Left me starving. Rotting. W. Honestly, dear. This sale could be big for me, big for us. If I can close this deal, I'll be in prime position to move up in the agency and even take over the top spot in the-- H. Wasting away like an old apple, being eaten by maggots. W. (giving up) You look good for a wrinkled piece of fruit. Now go lay down, I'll heat up some pasta for you. Let me get a bite of that brownie. H. No. You denounced its very existence. You get none. W. Fine. It's probably dry anyway. Wife disappears into the kitchen. Husband takes a bite. H. (over the top) MMMMMmmmm. So good. He lays back down on the couch, unwilling to put the brownie down or shove it all in his mouth, this task proves painful and difficult. W. (offstage) The Mercanti's say their place is haunted. That's why they want to sell it and get the hell out of dodge. At least, that's the wife's story. She says she'll come home from work sometimes and hear a horrendous moaning. Spirits of people killed long ago who just can't crossover to the other side, still roaming the halls, howling, pleading for release or something. But she says often times, she'll come home, hear the moaning, run up the stairs and into the room she suspects the sound to come from, and there will be nothing. Her husband, Mr. Mercanti sleeping soundly, or a television on with the volume cranked. The kid hasn't seen anything, but the maid says she's experienced similar weird things happening around there. The wife's starting to think she's going crazy. She's freaked out, so they are selling. Trying to get the hell out of dodge. But I tell you... (re-entering, with an orange rose petal clipped into her hair) Mrs. Mercanti is one blind broad. I'd be looking at that husband if I were her. "Moaning" she says she hears, that coincidentally stops right about the time she gets home? Husband soundly asleep, wrapped up in the covers like a pig in the blanket? He's banging the maid. I'll bet anything. He's banging the maid, and the wife is either too hurt to admit it or too stupid to realize it. But she says it's haunted and the husband is going along with it! I tell you, it's amazing what lies people will tell themselves when they're in love. But, regardless of whether it's true or not, because they said it, we have to put it in the listing. Haunted. "Beautiful three story home, fifty years old, four bedroom, two and a half bath, an office, kitchen, dining room, cozy family room, spacious backyard, and howling ghouls." I can't believe we don't have people lining up all the way down the block. H. What's that? In your hair? W. Oh, it's a rose petal. H. One of those petals from that death envelope? W. Death envelope? H. Yeah, I damn near broke my back trying to pick up that mess from the floor. W. Darling, you can hardly accuse an envelope full of flower petals of trying to kill you. H. I respectfully disagree. W. They are such a curious thing aren't they? The rose petals? I started looking up the meanings online today during my lunch break. Orange rose petals represent desire, enthusiasm and pride. I figure I need all the luck I can muster to sell this house, maybe a little extra desire, enthusiasm might help...I've already got the pride...It really is a curious thing. Who do you think could have left rose petals at our door? H. Do you always look this hot when you go to work? W. These are just work clothes. You have to look good and professional in order to be taken seriously. (beat) Who would have left these? H. Well, if you go in everyday looking like that...Mr. Mercanti. W. Stop it. H. What? Maybe the maid's not doing for him anymore. Maybe he wants to give the relator a little home inspection of his own. W. (flattered disgust) I cannot believe you are talking like this. H. You like it. W. Well...it's not bad, but still-- H. Come here. She crosses to him. He leans in for a kiss. W. Oh! I just remembered that Betty Sandborn is coming over for dinner tomorrow night. I completely forgot about that. Are you going to be able to join us, you think? H. (feigning) Oh, I don't know...my back.... W. You cannot leave me alone for an entire dinner with that woman. H. Why is she coming over? W. It's strictly business. She gets all the tips on the new bids going out, she's got the best property, she knows how to close. I want to get all I can out of her so I can crush her. H. God, you're sexy. She leans in for a kiss and starts to straddle him. He leans up. And jerks in pain. H. AH! My back. My back. Can't do that. W. Oh my God, sorry! So sorry! Black out. END OF PART 2 PART 1
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A-Just give 'em what they want.
B-What about what I want? A-That'll come. B-Will it? A-Yes. B-How do U know? A-The universe is just. A. Well... it's 12:57am.
B. It's gettin' late. A. What do you mean? It's still early! Plenty of time to make something happen! B. Not for me. A. Party pooper. B. It's not that I poop at parties, but rather, I'll poop at home and leave the party for you. A. What does that mean? B. Means I have things to do tomorrow. Lots of things. And the day after that and the day after that. I have responsibilities. I have work. Get up early, go to work, come home, work some more-- A. And after that work? B. Work. Then get to sleep, and repeat. It's routine. A routine I can't afford to break. A. Wait! ...What do you want? B. To go to sleep. A. No, I mean, what do you really want? If you could do or have anything right now, guilt free, stress-free, whatever. What would that be? Right now. If you had it your way? B. If I had it my way...I'd be drunk after a night of dancing. In the arms of some strange person I just met. We'd be sharing flirty glances, as we danced, occasionally locking eyes for just a little too long. I'd probably break first and turn away, embarrassed. They'd steal a quick kiss, catch me off guard. My jaw would ache from my inability to stop smiling. They'd hold me close. And when they told me I was cute, my heart would flutter and just for a fleeting moment, I would know what blissful love felt like...(beat) But there is none of that here. Instead, I am just trying to get to bed, so I can get some sleep, recharge, and get back up and do it all again. And thus...I poop at home. Have fun at the party. END OF PLAY A-Have a grapefruit.
B-No, thanks. A-Come on! Just one bite. B-I'm actually allergic. Really, I can't. A- Don't be a sourpuss. Lights up. A stands on the edge of a giant bridge, staring down into the ocean below. B rushes in.
B. Don't do it! A. Do what? B. Kill yourself. Don't do it! A. Kill myself? I don't want to kill myself. B. Oh, thank God. I thought you were going to jump. A. Oh, I'm going to jump. B. That's killing yourself! You won't survive the fall. A. I'm not trying to kill myself! B. Then what are you doing? A. I just wanted to look down. Something told me to look down. B. Life's not all that bad. I don't know what you're going through, but you can fight through it. Trust me, it's not worth ending it all. A. My life is pretty sweet. I don't want to end it, I just want to jump off this bridge. B inches toward A. B. Please! Don't. Here take my hand. I'll pull you to safety. A pulls away. A. But it would be so easy. Quick jump. A small thrill, then I can carry on with my day. B. (becoming more and more crazed) Your day will be over! All of them will! Finished. Done. Get it!?! That is not a pond or the lake down there, that is ocean. Real ocean. You'll hit the water so hard, you'll probably break a bone. If the water doesn't happen to break your neck, the freezing temperatures will shock your system, rendering your body unable to function, let alone swim, and you will sink to the bottom of the ocean. If you stay afloat, it's only a matter of time before the temperature gets you. You silly, silly fool! It is not fun! It is horrifying, it is tragic, it is ugly. A. (Stepping down from the ledge) You went to a really dark place just now. B. (Replacing A on the ledge) I'm just trying to get you to understand that if you don't check it, it will consume you. A. Okay, I get it. B. Say goodbye to your family and friends. Bye to your lovers. Bye to your cats, your pet mice, your roommates, their stupid habits... A. All right, chill out. B. (Insane) Bye to all the bills, the debt, your job, hell, all of your responsibilities. Goodbye to it all! B turns to face the water. B. Say goodbye. A. No! B jumps of the ledge. Silence. More silence. SPLASH. A stares on in disbelief. A. I just wanted to know what it was like to jump. Just jump. Just. Jump. Black out. END OF PLAY http://www.nbcnews.com/health/body-odd/weird-urge-jump-bridge-explained-f424037 A stares at their reflection in mirror.
A. I used to be pretty. My eyes uses to glisten with furious curiosity and energy. My skin used to be filled with vivid color, soft and buoyant. Smooth pools of innocence streaked my cheeks. My hair flowed like a river. I was wanted. Sought after. Lusted for...yet unattainable. A certain irresistible charm sat on my shoulder like a faithful parrot. I owned everything. I was master of ceremonies, lover, fighter, keeper of hearts, the forbidden, the forgiven...I used to be pretty. But now...my eyes dull, a tired, bitter contentment. My skin, cracked and brittle like a dry desert, barren of life. The rough terrain has seen many battles, many disappointments, many sleepless nights and broken hearts. My hair, split and devoid of sheen, instead, adorned in a new hat, a bandage to cover the wound. My once irresistible charm, replaced by a hardened "Why bother" demeanor. What happened to me? Once upon a time, many loved me, now I chase love, blindly, only finding ghosts. Specters of what once was and shall never be again. I used to thrive in my smiles, but now cower and hide in the dark bags under my eyes. I used to be pretty... REFLECTION: You still are. Black out. A-Thanks, but no thanks.
B-But surely if U'd just c me for me-- A-Did U show us U? B-Well, not all of me, I'm nervous. A-That's a shame. Living room with a giant TV sitting on the ground. B enters.
A. Where's the entertainment center? B. Still at Ikea. A. Why? B. I thought you were picking me up from there. I had no way to get it home. A. I told you I got off at 3pm. B. Which meant, I assumed, you would come straight from work. A. Were you waiting at Ikea for me? B. Yep. A. My bad, I thought we were meeting here, then heading over. Did I say that I'd meet you there? B. You implied it. A. You mean you inferred. B. You implied. A. You may have inferred, but I-- B. Did you bring the tools? A. No. I thought you had tools. B. No, I said I'd get tools. A. No, you said you had them. You said, "I get the dresser, you'd get tools." I heard you. B. Meaning I'd buy them, not that I already had them. A. Well, did you buy them? B. ...No. I thought we were buying them at the same time. A. Well, it doesn't even matter, 'cause we don't have an entertainment center. B. True. Silence. A grabs TV remote. A. Wanna watch TV? B. Did you get the cable hooked up? A stops. Sets down remote. A. Never mind. Silence. B. Want a beer? A. Hell yeah! B moves towards the kitchen. A. I'm glad you grabbed more from the store! Good call, 'cause we ran out yesterday. B stops. Silence. B. Goddamnit. END OF PLAY Setting: Offsides at a sportsball analyst table at a Sportsball World Cup game. Two commentators are calling the game in action.
JOHN. Welcome back to the live broadcast of todays Sportsball World Cup matchup between Caruba and Garfentina. As always, I'm John Slicksound, joined by Sportsball Hall of Famer Tim Catchy. An edge of your seat matchup today, wouldn't you say, Tim? TIM. I'll say, John. Both of these teams have gone back and forth. Going into the half, Caruba was down big, but have clawed their way back into this one and uh, they're looking to take it, John. Both have played hard, with a lot of passion, it'll be interesting to see who pulls it out. JOHN. That's right, Tim. Caruba comes out chomping at the bit, really looking to to take this game over. Caruba back up on top 97 to 94, just forty-five seconds left in the game, Caruba will kickoff. And the sportsball is up! McMannersname catches it, he's going down the field like a bolt of lightning. TIM. Yeah, he's really flying there! JOHN. He leaps over the hurdle! TIM. Oh ho ho--so effortless, John. JOHN. He hits the ice, speeding ahead. Defenders all around him. TIM. Ooh, sheds one lineman. Breaks a tackle. JOHN. Blathersbaum, got ahold of him. McMannersname muscling through. TIM. Just a soldier. JOHN. He goes down! Thirty seconds on the clock and play is still going! TIM. Where's the sportsball, John? JOHN. Commonson! Commonson of Garfentina's got the sportsball. A great last second pitch toss by McMannersname save the possession. And Commonson is running as if his life depended on it! TIM. Look at the athleticism here, John. Just an incredible athlete. JOHN. Garfentina down three pointgoals with twenty seconds left in regulation. Commonson gets some space, takes a shot from deep to tie! And it is off the rim! Rebounded by Mispronounce! Mispronounce kicks it back out to McMannersname. Ten seconds! McMannersname breaks a tackle. Spins. Hurdles. He' out in the open! Five seconds. Hits the trampoline and dives into the endzone. Touchdowngoal! And that is it! Garfentina wins it, 100 to 97! TIM. Whooohoooo! What a game, John. JOHN. I agree. Truly one of the best I've seen in forty-pshzzzahubba years of Sportsball! Let's go to the field live where analyst Tina Younome is standing with Clarence McMannersname. Enter TINA and McMANNERSNAME. Tina, dressed in pants suit and glasses, holding a microphone. McMannersname is dressed in articles of every sport imaginable. Wearing ice skates, football shoulder pads, a baseball batting helmet, etc. TINA. Thanks, John and Tim. I'm here with Clarence McMannersname. Clarence, you've just sent your team to the next round of the Sportsball World Cup. How do you feel? McMANNERSNAME. I feel great! Whooo! TINA. Walks us through that last play. McMANNERSNAME. Man, I just did what I do. I was able to grab the rebound, smash down the field, once I got some space, man, smashin' to the endzone, barbecue chicken! TINA. Not sure what that means, but congratulations, Clarence! Thank you. McMANNERSNAME. Thank you! Whoooooo! Sportsball! END OF PLAY A-What's that on your face? B-Same thing that's on yours. A-Skin? B-Is that what you call it? A-What do you call it? B-Parasites. |
The Project
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