Play 42: People These Days

CHARACTERS
ANDREW, early 30s
CLERK, early 20s
GEORGE, early 20s

(Andrew is standing in front of the counter at a corner store, a holding a pack of cigarettes.)

ANDREW
Here you go.

(He hands the clerk a few dollars.)

CLERK
Thank you.

ANDREW
You’re welcome.

(George enters.)

(Andrew starts to walk outside, takes a cigarette out and puts it in his mouth. He pulls a lighter and moves to light the cigarette.)

GEORGE
You really shouldn’t do that you know.

(Andrew pauses in the middle of lighting his cigarette.)

ANDREW
What?

GEORGE
Smoke.

ANDREW
I know.

GEORGE
Do you know what that does to your lungs?

ANDREW
(Dripping with sarcasm.)
Oh my god, no! Thank god for a good-hearted passerby such as yourself or I would’ve lived in a cloud of delusion for (beat.) who knows how many years!

GEORGE
Excuuuuuse me, I was trying to save your life.

ANDREW
Well, thank you for the compassion Mr. Pompous Dick, but you can go fuck yourself.

(He lights his cigarette and dramatically takes a drag, and blows the air out in George’s face.)

GEORGE
Hey, what the fuck?!

(Andrew walks out of the store.)

(George walks up to the counter.)

GEORGE
God, people these days.

CLERK
Yeah.

(Pause.)

(George pulls out a gun.)

(The clerk looks at it in surprise.)

GEORGE
So yeah, empty out the cash register, you know the drill.

(The clerk nervously does so.)

GEORGE
Put it in a bag.

(He puts the money in a plastic bag, his hands are shaking. He hands him the bag.)

GEORGE
People these days, ehh?

(He walks out of the store with the bag of money, putting the gun away as he leaves.)

(The clerk stares at the door George just left through in shock. His hands still havn’t moved from where they were when he handed him the bag, and are still shaking.)

(Beat.)

CLERK
(with a confused look on his face.)
What the fuck?

(Pause.)

(He reaches for a phone on the counter, and hits a few buttons.)

CLERK
Hi (beat.) someone just robbed my store.

(Blackout.)

Play 41: Ambiguous Endings

CHARACTERS
VINCENT, 16
STEVEN, 16

(They sit on a couch in front of a TV, light music is coming from the television as the credits to a movie are rolling.)

VINCENT
See, that’s why old movies are so awesome.

STEVEN
Why?

VINCENT
They don’t have issues with having ambiguous endings.

STEVEN
Yeah. That ending was definitely very confusing.

VINCENT
Yeah, and just the movie in general. But it worked, you didn’t have to know everything that’s going on and what’s happening. That’s what makes it interesting kind of.

STEVEN
Yeah, I get what you mean. It was kind of confusing though.

VINCENT
True. But it worked with the movie, I mean it obviously wouldn’t work just having every movie be confusing as hell.

STEVEN
Yeah.

VINCENT
And, I dunno, if nothing else it just makes you think.

STEVEN
True.

VINCENT
Which is a nice change. All the movies now seem to just want to wrap everything up into a nice easily digestible package for everyone to see.

STEVEN
Yeah, and it definitely is cool when you have to think about the movie afterwards, makes it stick in your mind better and stuff.

VINCENT
Yeah.

STEVEN
Wait, so why did that dude in the plane kill the woman in the end?

VINCENT
I dunno really, guess he was in on the whole thing or something.

STEVEN
But he did purposefully kill her right, like he didn’t just run over her by accident?

VINCENT
I’m pretty sure he meant to.

STEVEN
Why?

VINCENT
Well, I guess he just (Beat.) I have no idea.

(He laughs.)

STEVEN
Me either.

VINCENT
I dunno, I kinda like that though.

STEVEN
Hmm, yeah, it is kinda interesting.

VINCENT
Yeah, it’s nice when it could’ve been many things. More realistic.

STEVEN
Yeah.

VINCENT
I mean, in reality shit isn’t so straightforward and you never really fully get what’s going on or like what exactly people are doing or who they are.

STEVEN
Definetely.

VINCENT
I mean if life’s convoluted and weird, why shouldn’t the movies be?

STEVEN
I dunno, maybe so they’ll make sense.

(He laughs.)

VINCENT
Hey, come on, that movie was pretty sweet.

STEVEN
No no, I agree, I was just joking around cause I knew it’d piss you off.

VINCENT
You whore.

STEVEN
You’re mom’s a whore.

VINCENT
You’re maturity stuns me.

STEVEN
It is amazing isn’t it.

VINCENT
It really is.

(Pause.)

STEVEN
Wait, so like what did the dude in the plane and that girl’s stepfather have to do with each other?

VINCENT
Honestly, (beat.) no clue.

(Blackout.)

Play 40: This Looks Like a Job For…

CHARACTERS
SUPERHERO, male, 16
MAN, early twenties
WOMAN, early twenties

(The man and woman are sitting across each other at a table eating lunch.)

(The superhero enters from the side, he is wearing standard superhero gear—ie, cape, etc—and a shirt with the letters “R” “A” and “M” on it.)

SUPERHERO
(To audience.)
Here we have two civilians having a normal and completely non-awkward conversation. This looks like a job for…

(Pause.)

(Yelling.)
Random Awkward Man!

(He runs to the couple, humming a triumphant sounding song loudly, his cape flying out behind him.)

MAN
So I told him…

SUPERHERO
(Cutting him off and continuing his sentence for him.)
…to shut up and take his penis out of my eye socket before I did something crazy!

(The man and woman turn up to look at him in confusion.)

(Long silence.)

SUPERHERO
Well, it looks like my jobs done here. Away!

(He runs offstage humming the same song as earlier, his cape flying behind him.)

(Pause.)

MAN
That was, weird.

WOMAN
Yeah.

MAN
Really awkward.

WOMAN
Yeah. And random as hell.

MAN
And (Beat.) man…ly.

WOMAN
Not really.

MAN
No, I guess not. But definetely random and awkward.

WOMAN
Very.

(Pause.)

MAN
So what the hell was I talking about?

WOMAN
I have no idea.

MAN
Me neither.

(Pause.)

(Suddenly the superhero re-enters, and runs across the stage humming the song loudly again. He proceeds to run off the other side of the stage, the man and woman’s eyes following him the whole way.)

WOMAN
That guy has some severe emotional problems.

MAN
No question.

WOMAN
So what were you saying?

MAN
Hmm…

(Beat.)

Oh yeah, so I told him…

(Blackout.)

Play 39: Anytime

CHARACTERS
VINCENT, 16
ANNA, 20

(They sit on a couch watching television, the room is lighted by relatively dim lights.)

ANNA
You should go to sleep you know.

VINCENT
Yeah.

ANNA
Then why don’t you.

VINCENT
I dunno.

ANNA
That’s a pretty bad reason.

VINCENT
I know.

(Beat.)

I gotta write my scene.

ANNA
But you’re watching TV now.

VINCENT
But I gotta write my scene. And I should practice guitar, and I havn’t played sax in a week probably.

ANNA
Then go do that.

VINCENT
I will.

(Pause.)

ANNA
You really should just go to sleep though. You can practice music and all that stuff tomorrow.

VINCENT
But I gotta study for finals tomorrow.

ANNA
Like you’ll actually study all day?

VINCENT
True.

(Beat.)

But I need to write my scene today.

ANNA
Why?

VINCENT
It is called “play-a-day.”

ANNA
So skip a day.

VINCENT
Can’t.

ANNA
Why? No one will care.

VINCENT
Yeah they will.

ANNA
Who? Everyone’ll understand you’re busy. And plus, pretty much everyone who’s tried it hasn’t done it literally every day. No one will care if you miss one day.

VINCENT
I’ll care.

ANNA
You shouldn’t.

VINCENT
And why not?

ANNA
Cause it’s one day, give yourself a break.

VINCENT
But if I miss one day, then it’ll be another, then another, then I’ll just stop altogether, and I really don’t want that to happen.

ANNA
It doesn’t have to.

VINCENT
But it will.

ANNA
You can just make sure it doesn’t happen again.

VINCENT
You don’t get it.

(Pause.)

VINCENT
This is what’s been hapenning with sax. I say, oh, I’ll practice tomorrow. Then I do it again and now I havn’t played in a fucking week!

ANNA
Relax, you try to do too much.

VINCENT
I don’t do anything!

ANNA
You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.

(Beat.)

VINCENT
I know.

(Beat.)

But this is just like my webcomic, I did it three times a week. Then I let it slip to two, then once a week, then once a month. You know what happened to that.

ANNA
It doesn’t mean it’ll happen this time.

VINCENT
I guess not.

ANNA
So you’re not gonna write it tonight?

VINCENT
Fuck no.

ANNA
Good.

VINCENT
No no, I mean fuck no to you saying I’m not going to write it.

(Beat.)

ANNA
So you mean you are.

VINCENT
Yeah.

ANNA
You realize you have finals in two days and are underslept.

VINCENT
Yeah.

ANNA
You can be stubborn as hell you know.

VINCENT
Gotta be, that or I get lazy as hell.

ANNA
You need to relax.

VINCENT
I know.

(Pause, they sit watching tv)

ANNA
Just asking?

VINCENT
Yeah?

ANNA
If you’re staying up so you can write your scene, then why don’t you leave and actually go do it and then go to sleep?

VINCENT
I will.

ANNA
Then go.

VINCENT
Just another minute.

(Beat.)

ANNA
You know what you said about you being too stubborn is better than being too lazy?

VINCENT
(He responds without looking away from the tv)
Yeah?

ANNA
I think I agree.

VINCENT
(Still seeming to only be partially paying attention to the conversation.)
Yeah.

ANNA
Are you even listening to what I’m saying?

VINCENT
Yeah.

ANNA
You realize you just said “yeah” twice in a row.

VINCENT
Three times actually.

(Beat.)

ANNA
I always forget how you do that.

VINCENT
What?

ANNA
You always seem like you’re not listening at all even when you are.

VINCENT
Yup.

(She looks down at her watch.)

ANNA
Your minute's up.

VINCENT
What?

ANNA
You said you’d leave in a minute.

VINCENT
Oh yeah.

(Beat.)

Then one more minute.

(She sighs in annoyance.)

ANNA
Just don’t blame me when you fuck up your finals.

VINCENT
Sounds like a plan.

(Beat.)

So any ideas for a scene I shoud write?

ANNA
How about a teenage boy watching tv when he should be writing or going to sleep.

VINCENT
Hmm, promising.

ANNA
Really?

VINCENT
No, not really. Thanks for the thought though.

ANNA
Thanks for the passive aggressiveness.

VINCENT
Anytime.

(She punches him in the shoulder.)

VINCENT
Hey!

ANNA
Anytime.

(She laughs, he shakes his head and goes back to watching tv.)

(Blackout.)

Play 38: High School

INT. CLASSROOM-DAY

There is a teacher giving a lecture on US History, he is standing in front of a chalkboard writing various things on it. One student is asleep, lying slouched in his chair with his head resting against the wall and his mouth slightly open.

PULL BACK WIDE ON…

The students sitting in a U-shape around the teacher. The sleeping student is off to on side, one student has her hand up, some students are taking notes while others stare at their papers in boredom or whisper to their neighbors.

ZOOM IN ON…

DERRIN, dark brown hair, grey-green eyes, sitting in one of the back corners. He is sitting hunched forward with his elbows on his desk and his hands propping his head up. His pencil is hanging limply in his right hand and the pages in his binder are blank. He is staring forward with a blank and thoroughly bored expression on his face: his eyes are half closed and his mouth is just slightly open.

He leans back, resting his head on the window behind him, and sits silently staring for a few seconds and than suddenly jerks as if just having awoken, and looks up at the camera.

DERRIN
(whispering to camera—while he’s talking the other noise in the classroom fades out to a barely audible hum.)
I hate high school. Every class is like, this.

He gestures towards one of the other students.

PAN OVER TO…

JILL—blond hair blues eyes, pretty, skinny—raises her hand

TEACHER
And the answer is…yes Jill?

JILL
SARS?

There is a brief pause.

TEACHER
No, I’m sorry Jill, but the disease the settlers actually gave the Native people was Smallpox. Good guess though.

PAN BACK TO…

Derrin is sitting staring at her with an angry look.

DERRIN
(Whispering to camera.)
Are you fucking kidding me? SARS? I swear, some people are just so stupid it’s a miracle they’re even alive.

He looks down at his blank notes, and starts moving his hand to write something, then stops.

DERRIN
Fuck it. Know what’s the funniest part of it all? Everyone’s so self absorbed they don’t notice anything that happens. I mean, someone falls asleep every class, and I pretty much just sit here staring angrily every day. Sometimes I think I could do anything and no one would notice.

PULL BACK WIDE..

On entire classroom. Derrin gets out of his desk and gets up onto it, no one looks his way or notices, including the teacher who continues teaching his lesson. Derrin stands up fully onto his desk, and dives through the window behind him in a loud crash of shattering glass. The teacher looks over to the empty glass-shard covered desk where Derrin had been seated.

TEACHER
No, I’m sorry Derrin, “Dive through window randomly in the middle of class” is not the answer. Anyone else want to take a stab at it?

CUT BACK TO…

Derrin sitting back in his desk, all the glass is gone and the window is no longer broken.

DERRIN
Okay, so not anything, but you get my point.

TEACHER
Derrin, how about you?

Derrin’s head jerks away from the camera and he looks at the teacher.

DERRIN
What?

The teacher breathes out deeply with annoyance.

TEACHER
You heard the question.

DERRIN
Uhh…1848?

TEACHER
Very good.

He turns back to the board and continues on with the lesson.

DERRIN
(Back to camera.)
You might be wondering how I answered that question, I mean, I havn’t been paying any attention this entire class, even you can see that. Well, what can I say, I’m just that good.
(Pause.)
And, by “that good” I mean “I guess randomly because I know that with this teacher it’s always 1848." I love how predictable everything is.

TEACHER
And that’s how we got all the land from Mexico for 15 million dollars.

He looks up at the clock.

TEACHER
Well, class is over everyone. Remember to bring your textbooks next classes so we can fill out the maps.

All the students put their binders, notebooks and pencils away in their backpacks and head out. Derrin is the first one to leave.

DERRIN
And I survive yet another day in the wonderful state of eternal bliss that is high school.

Play 37: Lost or Something

CHARACTERS
VINCENT, 16
RYAN, 16

(Vincent is sitting on the stairs outside his school building. He is staring off looking slightly forlorn.)

(Ryan comes out the door of the building and sits down next to him.)

RYAN
Hey.

VINCENT
(surprised.)
Oh, hey.

RYAN
Something wrong?

VINCENT
Why you asking?

RYAN
I’m not sure you just look kinda, I dunno, lost or something.

VINCENT
Yeah, I guess I do.

RYAN
So what’s wrong?

VINCENT
Well…

(His voice trails off.)

No, nothing.

RYAN
Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s cool.

VINCENT
Yeah, thanks.

RYAN
No problem.

VINCENT
So how’re you?

RYAN
Oh, pretty good. Lot of work and shit, I should probably start studying for finals.

VINCENT
Yeah, me too. I know I won’t tonight though.

RYAN
Yeah, me either probably.

(Pause, Vincent stares off in distance.)

RYAN
You know, keeping shit bottled up isn’t healthy.

(Vincent turns back to face Ryan looking slightly confused, seeming to not have heard what he said.)

VINCENT
What?

RYAN
I was just saying you shouldn’t keep shit bottled up.

VINCENT
I know.

RYAN
So you wanna talk about what’s wrong?

VINCENT
Not particularly, no.

(Pause.)

RYAN
Come on man, it’ll help you feel better if you get it off your chest.

VINCENT
Maybe.

RYAN
So try.

VINCENT
No.

RYAN
Why?

VINCENT
Why the fuck do you care if I do?

RYAN
Hey, chill, I’m just trying to help you out.

VINCENT
Then don’t.

(Pause.)

RYAN
Hey, I’m sorry if I bothered you man.

(Beat.)

VINCENT
Don’t worry about it, it’s not you fault.

RYAN
Than what is it?

(Vincent turns to face him and gives him an angry look.)

RYAN
Okay, okay, I get it.

(Vincent turns back and stares straight ahead of himself.)

RYAN
So, why you here so late.

VINCENT
Long story.

RYAN
When you leaving?

VINCENT
Soon. You?

RYAN
Same.

(Pause.)

VINCENT
What’s wrong with you?

RYAN
Nothing.

VINCENT
Then why were you being so insistent on me talking about my shit?

RYAN
I dunno, trying to help, curiosity.

VINCENT
Bullshit.

RYAN
What?

VINCENT
I said bullshit.

RYAN
What are you talking about?

VINCENT
I’m saying you’re just trying to get me to talk about my issues so you can forget about yours.

RYAN
Woah man, when did this conversation become Psych. 101? I was just trying to ask you what’s wrong.

(Beat.)

VINCENT
Yeah. (Beat.) Sorry man, nevermind, I’m just kinda on edge.

RYAN
Don’t worry about it.

VINCENT
Anyways, I should probably go, my parents should be around the corner by now.

RYAN
Okay, see you later.

VINCENT
See ya.

(He picks up his backpack and walks offstage.)

(Ryan sits still for a minute, sighs, and stares off into the distance.)

(Blackout.)

Play 36: Hung-Over Inspiration

CHARACTERS
BEN, 16
INSPIRATION, male, early twenties

(Ben is sitting in his bed reading. The room is lit by a lamp to the side of the bed.)

(Inspiration enters through a door to the side.)

INSPIRATION
Guess who?

(He flicks on the light switch.)

BEN
Hey, where the fuck you been?

(He puts his book down on the bed and sits up.)

(Inspiration walks over to the side of the bed.)

INSPIRATION
Oh, just busy.

(Pause.)

BEN
Bullshit.

INSPIRATION
Come on, I just had some stuff to do.

BEN
What, like fucking bathe in a pool of whiskey? You smell like shit.

(Pause.)

INSPIRATION
Yeah, sorry.

BEN
Whatever man, just it would’ve been nice if you had gotten here earlier.

INSPIRATION
Sorry. I’ll try to next time. Already got the scene written?

BEN
Yeah.

INSPIRATION
How it come out?

BEN
Don’t ask.

(Pause.)

INSPIRATION
So uhh, you think I could get some aspirin? My head hurts like hell.

BEN
Goddamn it.

INSPIRATION
It’s cool if you don’t get me any.

BEN
(With a trace of anger.)
No, it’s fine. I’ll get it.

(He walks out through the door. Inspiration goes and sits down on the bed. He picks up the book Ben had been reading and looks at it.)

(A few seconds later, Ben enters with a bottle of aspirin, and Inspiration hastily puts the book back down.)

BEN
Here you go.

(he hands him the bottle of aspirin.)

INSPIRATION
Thanks.

(Beat.)

Think I could get a cup of water to swallow it with?

BEN
(coldly)
fine.

(He walks out again and returns with a cup of water.)

BEN
Here.

INSPIRATION
Thanks a lot man.

(He swallows the pills, and puts the cup down on the ground.)

BEN
No problem.

INSPIRATION
Anyways, thanks for the aspirin and everything, but I really should be going.

BEN
Okay.

(Inspiration gets up and walks out the door.)

BEN
(yelling after him.)
Hey, wait a minute! You didn’t fucking even give me one idea!

(Inspiration returns.)

INSPIRATION
Oh, sorry. Let me think…

(Pause.)

Umm, someone’s father died?

BEN
That’s it?

INSPIRATION
(rapidly.)
Yeah, good isn’t it? Anyways, gotta go!

(He rushes back out of the door.)

BEN
(To himself.)
Fucking idiot.

(He goes back to his bed and picks up his book.)

BEN
Hey, what the….

(He starts searching around.)

Where the fuck is my bookmark?

(Beat.)

Hey, get back here you asshole!

(He runs out the door.)

(Blackout.)