The entire scene takes place in an elevator
Alan: (enters the elevator, the door starts to close)
Jeff: (calls out to hold it.) Hey, hang on please.
(Alan holds for him. Jeff enters, nods thanks. They stand in silence while it moves, looking up at the passing floor numbers.)
Alan: Going to the top floor?
Jeff: Sure. Why not?
Alan: (reaching for the control) Oh, sorry. Did you want a different floor?
Jeff: Nah.
Alan: Because I'm going to the top floor.
Jeff: You look like it.
Alan: I beg your pardon?
Jeff: You know, you look like you're on your way to the top.
Alan: Oh. Well...thanks.
Jeff: Sure.
Alan: Do you work in this building?
Jeff: Nope.
Alan: Customer?
Jeff: Nah.
Alan: Visiting a friend?
Jeff: (snorting in disdain) No.
Alan: Oh.
Jeff: (mumbling)
Alan: I'm sorry, what was that?
Jeff: I'm talking to myself.
Alan: Sorry. I thought you were talking to me.
Jeff: Uh huh.
Alan: Did you want to talk to me?
Jeff: You're a nosy little bastard, aren't you?
Alan: Sorry. I just thought...
Jeff: And apologetic. What is that? The millionth time in the past two minutes that you've said "sorry." A nosy, apologetic little bastard. That's really annoying.
Alan: I'm sorry....
Jeff: Sorry...
Alan: I didn't mean...
Jeff: Are you always sorry?
Alan: I just thought...
Jeff: Never mind.
Alan: Fine. Okay.
Jeff: Just shut up, okay...(Alan starts to speak) I mean it.
(They stand in silence for another moment)
Jeff: Is this the slowest elevator in the history of modern man, or is it just my imagination? (Alan gives Jeff a sideways glance, doesn't answer) I'm talking to you.
Alan: Oh. I, uh...
Jeff: Never mind. (Alan glances at his watch) Nice watch.
Alan: (pulling down his sleeve) Uh, thanks. My father gave it to me.
Jeff: Isn't that nice? Daddy gave his boy a watch. Sweet. (Looking up) Did you hear that?
Alan: I didn't hear anything.
Jeff: Someone is talking. Listen.
Alan: (listening) Probably just people on the floors we're passing. The elevator's moving so slow the voices can seep in.
Jeff: Seep in.(He begins to examine his hands) My hands look like they belong to someone else. (He continues to examine his hands with true interest as Alan watches out of the corner of his eye. Jeff chants to his hands in a sing song manner) Little hands, little hands, to whom do you belong? Why do you move in a rhythm like a song?
Alan: This is a slow elevator. (He pushes The floor panel button)
Jeff: I told you. (Relishing the words) The voices can seep in.
Alan: Yeah. (hitting buttons)
Jeff: Don't...
Alan: Okay...
Jeff: Do you ever look at your hands and wonder what they will do next?
Alan: You know, I have some business on the next floor. Maybe I'll just get off there.
Jeff: Like sometimes they just hang there...
Alan: I bet someone wants to get on this thing on the next floor.
Jeff: Sometimes they just take hold of something and squeeze like they have a mind of their own.
Alan: Is it hot in here?
Jeff: Then they just move POW like they have epilepsy or something. Like now.
(His hands start moving as if he has a bad case of the shakes. He looks surprised at his hands movements)
Alan: Really? Interesting. Oh, hey, the 40th floor. I can get off there.
Jeff: I thought you were going to the 80th floor.
Alan: I can walk the rest of the way. Exercise will do me good.
Jeff: Suit yourself. (His hand thrusts forward to the floor panel and the elevator stops) Oops.
Alan: Oops? What The hell?
Jeff: Don't swear at me.
Alan: What did you do?
Jeff; And don't raise your voice.
Alan: You stopped the elevator.
Jeff: I didn't. My hands did. I was just standing here.
Alan: Goddammit. Move.
Jeff: I said don't yell at me.
Alan: I'm not yelling. Move, so I can get this thing going.
Jeff: What's your hurry?
Alan: No hurry. I just want to get moving.
Jeff: That's the problem with people today. No one wants to talk.
Alan: (hitting the buttons on the panel) Great. Just great. I think it's broken.
Jeff: (sitting on the floor. He holds up his hand) See this?
Alan: Maybe this button will work.
Jeff: I've got this weird callous here.
Alan: No. Damn.
Jeff: Right here on this finger. My ring finger.
Alan: The phone! There's always an emergency phone on these things.
Jeff: I don't know why I call you the ring finger. I don't wear a ring.
Alan: (he opens the box and finds the phone) Yes!
Jeff: It doesn't make any sense, really, because I don't use this finger.
Alan: (into the phone) Hello? Hello?
Jeff: Do you see it? Right here.
Alan: I don't believe this. Its dead.
Jeff: (interested for a moment) Dead?
Alan: As a doornail.
Jeff: Now, how would I get a callous here? Makes no sense.
Alan: (looking at the ceiling) Maybe if I moved that panel I could climb up there.
Jeff: (his hands start moving again) Uh oh, here they go again. (He wraps his hands around Alan's feet)
Alan: What the hell...?
Jeff: I said don't swear at me!
Alan: What the hell are you doing you little freak?
Jeff: I told you, it's not me. It's the hands. The stranger's hands.
Alan: Well, get them off of me, goddammit, before I kick your ass.
Jeff: I told you...
Alan: I'm telling you....
Jeff: ...no swearing...
Alan: ...let me go...
Jeff: ...Stop moving! Stop moving...
Alan: ...get off! Get off....
Jeff: ...It's not me. I can't...
. Alan: This is the last time....
Jeff: You're hurting me...
Alan: Let go!...
Jeff: (he frees himself from Alan and cowers in a corner) Nononononononono...
Alan: What the hell...?
Jeff: Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me.
Alan: Oh great. Trapped in an elevator with a psycho.
Jeff: (whimpering) Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't.
Alan: Don't what? I'm not doing anything.
Jeff: The walls...
Alan: What about the walls?
Jeff: The walls.
Alan: You scared?
Jeff: (he just whimpers) ooooh ooooh oooh...
Alan: Not so tough in tight spaces, are you Mr. Strange hands? A little claustrophobic?
Jeff: Maybe...yeah, I am. Just stay away.
Alan: There's not too many places I can go, seeing how we're trapped here in this really small box together. (He looks up) Uh oh, I think the walls are starting to close in. (He moves closer to Jeff) Yep. Tighter and tighter. (He laughs unsympathetically) Inch by inch.
Jeff: (looking at his hands. He talks to his hands, while Alan thinks Jeff is talking to him) What happened? Did you do this? You shouldn't have done this. It was bad.
Alan: I didn't do anything. (He slaps him a bit to shake him up) Snap out of it. (Jeff whimpers more) Pathetic. And you call me a little bastard. Look at you.
Jeff: You shouldn't have done it.
Alan: I didn't. You're The one who started hitting all the buttons.
Jeff: Liar!
Alan: You hit all the buttons, going nuts on me. You try to act like a tough guy. You're nothing. Nothing.
Jeff: You better stop!
Alan: Why? You're shivering on the floor like a little girl who peed her pants.
Jeff: Stop!....Stop...!
Alan: Come on. Stand up. (He reaches for Jeff)
Jeff: It's happening. Get away. Get away. Get away.
Alan: (grabbing Jeff) Knock it off you little punk. Your kind make me sick. You think you're so tough, but get in a tight spot and you collapse.
Jeff: I'm begging you.
Alan: I could knock the crap out of you. It would probably be good for you. Your kind are all alike. Big man until you have to actually be a man.
Jeff: No. Don't.
Alan: Can't take the truth. (He softly slaps Jeff across the face in a mocking manner) Come on, lets see what kind of guy you are. (He pushes Jeff around, intimidating him like a cat with a broken bird) You gonna just take this? Big guy? Big man?
Jeff: (his hands over his face) Strangers hands. Strangers hands. Strangers hands. Strangers hands.
Alan: You make me sick. This isn't even fun to bat you around.
Jeff: No. Don't.
Alan: (sitting next to Jeff on the floor) I said I wasn't you sorry piece of crap.
(There is a moment of silence while Alan stares straight ahead and Jeff looks at his hands)
Jeff: It's so quiet.
Alan: Yep.
Jeff: The callouses are on the fingers. How does that happen?
Alan: Just shut up about the callouses. No one cares.
Jeff: I know. No one cares. No one cares. No one cares.
Alan: Maybe the phone will work. Maybe I didn't do it right.
Jeff: Callouses and no one cares.
Alan: (he gets up to try the phone again) Maybe there's a secret code.
(As he is at the phone, Jeff stands behind him, we can't see what he is doing)
Alan: Dial 352. Okay, I did that. Dammit. (His voice changes, he drops to his knees) Dead.
Jeff: (standing behind him, holding the knife that he pulls out of Alan back) Dead as a doornail.
Alan: What have you done...
Jeff: (shaking his head, looking at his hands) Stranger's hands. Strangers hands. Strangers hands. (The lights fade to black)
Mary Krell-Oishi
Sunny Hills HS Drama Teacher (
check out the school's web page)
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