"The Tao of Cabbage" by: Jason Jenkins
"Dorothy and Edith" by: Park Cofield
"The Demon Lover" an Adaptation by Park Cofield
"Down on Squid Row" by: Park Cofield
"two trees numbered eight: a play in one part by Tree, Jnkees, and Suds"
"Departmental" by: Jason Jenkins
"Science Fair: 1530" by: Jason Jenkins
"The Logic of Lemmings" by: Zach Bosteel
I wrote the skit below to use in a coffeehouse, but it was never used. It is based on a skit I did sophomore year in drama class.
Characters:
[Lights come up on DRIVER centerstage in cab. He is singing a bad pseudoGerman metal song rather loudly. WOMAN appears left, hails taxi. DRIVER pulls over.]
DRIVER: Where to lady?
WOMAN: (entering) Daikichi Sushi, Broadway and West 39th street.
DRIVER: Ya like Sushi?
WOMAN: (sarcastically) That would explain why I'm going to a sushi restaurant.
DRIVER: I have some raw fish back there if you want it.
WOMAN: That's disgusting!
DRIVER: If it's so disgusting, why are you sitting on it?
[WOMAN reaches behind her and produces a fish (preferably a dead one). It is quickly discarded.]
WOMAN: Isn't there a law against this?
DRIVER: Not only is it legal, it's also very tasty. Or, at least, it was until you sat on it. Why are you so concerned about it anyway? Aren't you on your way to a sushi place?
WOMAN: Sushi is a Japanese art; that is a dead fish.
DRIVER: Well, if it's that important to you, I think I have a Japanese artist back there too. Ya there Yoko?
[No response. WOMAN stares incredulously.]
DRIVER: How did she get out?
WOMAN: This is close enough. Pull over here; I can walk the rest of the way.
DRIVER: Suit yourself.
[DRIVER pulls over. WOMAN gets out.]
DRIVER: That'll be $8.50.
[WOMAN pays him.]
DRIVER: Keep the fish.
[DRIVER throws fish at her. WOMAN shrieks and dodges it as she exits
left.]
DRIVER: What a weird lady! She needs to make up her mind; either you like fish or you don't. Mmm, I'm hungry. I wish that still had that fish, or Yoko.
OFFSTAGE VOICE: Hey, Buddy! Where did you learn how to drive, moron school?
DRIVER: No, my dad taught me.
OFFSTAGE VOICE: Was he a moron too?
DRIVER: No, he was Italian.
[DRIVER begins another song, possibly an Italian Opera. MOTHER and her CHILD enter. DRIVER pulls over.]
DRIVER: (as MOTHER and CHILD enter) Thank you for choosing yellow cab. Where may I take you today?
CHILD: Mommy, he scares me.
MOTHER: You don't need to be afraid. He won't hurt you.
DRIVER: Can I eat you?
CHILD: No.
DRIVER: Then you're safe.
MOTHER: The Royalton hotel please.
DRIVER: Sure thing.
CHILD: This car smells like Grandma.
DRIVER: She's in my trunk.
[CHILD starts to cry.]
DRIVER: I'm kidding, she's probably not in my trunk. Come on, kid. Stop crying. Wanna see a trick?
CHILD: Okay.
[DRIVER reaches into the front of his pants and pulls out his underwear.]
DRIVER: (passing the underwear back) Here, wipe your eyes. I'm sorry.
[MOTHER intercepts the underwear and returns it to the DRIVER.]
MOTHER: I have a tissue.
DRIVER: (to CHILD) Wanna see another trick?
MOTHER: How many pairs of underwear do you have?
DRIVER: A few.
[DRIVER rotates himself, as to face the back of the vehicle, and continues to operate the taxi. MOTHER is visibly upset by his lack of attention paid to driving. CHILD is slightly entertained, as he has seen this trick performed very few times.]
DRIVER: (pulling over) Here's the Royalton. Thank you for choosing Yellow cab. Here is your complementary yellow cabbage.
MOTHER: (getting out with CHILD) I'll pass.
DRIVER: Listen lady, If I don't get rid of this they're gonna shoot me.
MOTHER: Fine, I'll take it.
[MOTHER hands cabbage to CHILD.]
DRIVER: That's $47.23.
MOTHER: $47.23!
DRIVER: Okay, $28.95.
MOTHER: All I have is $15.
DRIVER: Good enough.
[DRIVER starts to pull away. CHILD throws the cabbage at the cab.]
CHILD: Up yours!
MOTHER: Susan!
[MOTHER and CHILD exit as BALLET DANCER enters and rushes to catch the cab before it drives away. She is adorned in a leotard, tutu, and toe shoes.]
BALLET DANCER: Wait up! Thanks.
[DRIVER pulls over to allow BALLET DANCER to enter. Before entering, the BALLET DANCER picks up the yellow cabbage, admires its aesthetics, and takes it with her into the cab.]
DRIVER: Where will I have the pleasure to take you to today?
BALLET DANCER: Club Jun, East 49th between 2nd and 3rd avenues.
DRIVER: I'll be there in a Jiffy.
[There is a long silence.]
DRIVER: So, you're a tap dancer.
BALLET DANCER: No, I'm a ballet dancer.
DRIVER: Oh, I'm sorry. I bet you get that all the time.
BALLET DANCER: No, I don't.
DRIVER: That's too bad. You like that cabbage?
BALLET DANCER: Yes, It's beautiful.
DRIVER: I grew it in my grandfather's garden.
BALLET DANCER: Oh really? Where does he live?
DRIVER: Happy Acres Cemetery.
[BALLET DANCER tosses the cabbage out of the window, disturbed by the cabbage's origin]
DRIVER: Yesiree, that's a quality cabbage. It takes a special corpse to make a cabbage that yellow. Here we are, Club Jun. That's $16.75.
[BALLET DANCER gets out.]
BALLET DANCER: Here's a twenty.
DRIVER: Thanks, have a good day. Have fun tangoing.
BALLET DANCER: I'm a ballet dancer. See the toe shoes, the leotard, the tutu? That means ballet.
DRIVER: The salsa, whatever.
BALLET DANCER: Ugh!
[She turns around and exits frustrated.]
DRIVER: Weirdo. Who has ever heard of ballet? It's probably a variation of a Chinese Bunraku dance.
[A dignified looking GENTLEMAN enters and hails the cab which pulls over.]
DRIVER: Where to, Mac?
GENTLEMAN: The United Nations building.
DRIVER: Well, aren't you special! Are you a diplomat or something?
GENTLEMAN: Something like that.
DRIVER: Are you single?
GENTLEMAN: Yes, why?
DRIVER : I just dropped off this girl at the Club Jun. I think she's a stripper.
GENTLEMAN: I don't date strippers.
DRIVER: That's just as well. She wasn't too bright.
GENTLEMAN: Is that fish I smell?
[SUPERHERO enters. He is wearing a cape, tights, and other superheroesque apparel. He waves fervently for the cab to pull over.]
DRIVER: You mind if I pick him up?
GENTLEMAN: Yes I do mind.
DRIVER: Okay, thanks.
[DRIVER pulls over. SUPERHERO gets in.]
SUPERHERO: Quick! To Pittsburgh.
DRIVER: Aren't you? (Here DRIVER improvises a name for SUPERHERO. SUPERHERO must adapt any characteristics that are implied in his name.)
SUPERHERO: Yes I am.
GENTLEMAN: Excuse me, I got this cab first. We should go to the United Nations building before you leave for Pittsburgh.
DRIVER: This guy has precedence; he's a superhero.
GENTLEMAN: So, I'm a diplomat.
DRIVER: Do you stop crimes?
GENTLEMAN: Yes.
DRIVER: Do you save the world from weapons of mass destruction?
GENTLEMAN: Yes, I do.
DRIVER: Do you beat people up?
GENTLEMAN: No, but I'm tempted to right now.
DRIVER: Well, you don't wear a cape.
GENTLEMAN: I have a trench coat.
DRIVER: That doesn't count.
SUPERHERO: Can't you drive any faster?
DRIVER: The speed limit is 35 mph.
SUPERHERO: Curses, foiled again.
DRIVER: What?
SUPERHERO: Nothing, would you please pull over?
DRIVER: What about Pittsburgh?
SUPERHERO: Screw Pittsburgh; you're too slow.
DRIVER: (slightly offended): Fine then.
[DRIVER pulls over. SUPERHERO gets out and runs away to Pittsburgh.]
DRIVER: (Staring off) He sure has a flabby butt for a superhero.
GENTLEMAN: Excuse me, We're in Union city.
DRIVER: Yea. Well, that's life.
[Lights go black.]
VOICE OF GENTLEMAN: Are we dead?
VOICE OF DRIVER: Yep. Caught you off guard, didn't it?
VOICE OF GENTLEMAN: Yea. Well, that's death.
[Two elderly women enter a doctor's waiting room. EDITH is clutching her arm, and DOROTHY leads her to a seat.]
DOROTHY: Wait here. I'll sign you in.
EDITH: (In pain) Oh God.
DOROTHY: Alright. You have to fill out this form. Are you going to be able to manage?
EDITH: Will you write for me?
DOROTHY: Yeah.
EDITH: I hope the wait isn't long.
DOROTHY: I think they have several doctors. OK, Name...Edith Wyant. Do you have a middle name?
EDITH: No.
DOROTHY: Address...Taylor Avenue. What's the number?
EDITH: 524
DOROTHY: That's in Harris County right?
EDITH: Yeah.
DOROTHY: You can own a gun in Harris can't you?
EDITH: Yeah. You need one in Harris.
DOROTHY: Ok, let's see...birthday?
EDITH: September 14, '29
DOROTHY: How old are you?
EDITH: 71.
DOROTHY: Why do they ask you for your age after you give them your birthday? You'ld think they could figure it out.
EDITH: (Reaching for her purse) I gotta get my insurance card out.
DOROTHY: Don't worry, I'll get that for you while you seeing the doctor. (flipping over clip board) How much more do we have here?
EDITH: What's next?
DOROTHY: Let's see. Social Security number?
EDITH: 5-2-4
DOROTHY: Huh?
EDITH: 5-2-4
DOROTHY: 5- 2- What?
EDITH: 5-2-4
DOROTHY: What?
EDITH: 5.
DOROTHY: 5.
EDITH: 2.
DOROTHY: 2?
EDITH: Yeah 2. 4.
DOROTHY: 4.
EDITH: 6-4.....7891.
DOROTHY: (Writing it down)....7891. Now, family history-- How old was your father when he died?
EDITH: 83.
DOROTHY: What did he die of?
EDITH: Emphysema, I guess
DOROTHY: And your mother?
EDITH: She was also 83.
DOROTHY: And what did she die of?
EDITH: Oh I don't know; she just died.
DOROTHY: Brothers and sisters?
EDITH: I had a brother born in 1920.
DOROTHY: (With a laugh) He was 120?
EDITH: (After a short pause) No. (with a laugh) He was born in 1920. He died in '88.
DOROTHY: So 68?
EDITH: Yeah, I guess. He died of lung cancer.
DOROTHY: OK, how long has your arm been bothering you? A month?
EDITH: Yeah, a month. I guess it has been that long.
DOROTHY: Have you ever had problems with it before?
EDITH: I don't think so.
DOROTHY: (Reading) "Does it get worse when you do any of the following activities?" This is ridiculous!
EDITH: It hurts when I do everything.
DOROTHY: I'll check them all then.
EDITH: Good.
DOROTHY: Medical history?
EDITH: Oh crap, what'd they mean?
DOROTHY: Surgeries, I guess.
EDITH: Three C-sections.
DOROTHY: C-Sections?
EDITH: Caesarian Sections.
DOROTHY: Oh! Alright, what about any MRI's?
EDITH: No.
DOROTHY: You had one of those.
EDITH: Yeah, I guess I did. Write that down.
DOROTHY: OK, do you have any allergies?
EDITH: Penicillin and a possible allergy to Demerol.
DOROTHY: OK. Now they are asking for any current prescriptions.
EDITH: Get my purse. (She begins to carefully dig into her purse with her good arm.) Trachcyimeride.
DOROTHY: How do you spell that?
EDITH: Here. (She gives her the bottle.)
DOROTHY: Glamechimeterol?
EDITH: Oh give me that back; that's for the cat.
DOROTHY: Anything else?
EDITH: Put down Claritin also.
DOROTHY: (Looks at form; turns it over) There! We're done. Wait, you have to sign it.
EDITH: Oh...
DOROTHY: Should I just do it for you?
EDITH: (With a laugh) Yeah, why not?
DOROTHY: This thing has run me through the mill.
EDITH: Yeah, why do they make them so long?
DOROTHY: It's just another adventure with you, Edith. I'll be back in a second.
[DOROTHY gets up and turns in the form. When she comes back, she sits down in the chair next to EDITH, and they let out a collective sigh of relief.]
[Lights up on a family. The mother's name is HANNA. She is playing a board game with her two boys, RONNIE and TIMMY. HANNA's husband, ZACH, sits in a recliner reading the newspaper.]
HANNA: Way to go, Ronnie. You passed GO. Collect $200 dollars.
RONNIE: I'm gonna beat you, ham breath.
TIMMY: Mom! Ronnie called me ham breath.
HANNA: Ronnie, don't call your brother ham breath. We didn't even have ham for dinner. We had pork chops.
ZACH: You make some darn good pork chops, honey.
HANNA: Thanks, sweetie. Whose turn is it?
[The doorbell rings.]
HANNA: I wonder who that could be?
[HANNA opens the door, and the DEVIL walks in uninvited.]
HANNA: Excuse me. What do you think you're doing, barging in here like this?
ZACH: Hey! Who are you?
DEVIL: (Looks at him and points to the horns, tail, and pitchfork)...The devil.
RONNIE AND TIMMY: Cool!
HANNA: Ronnie! Timmy! The devil is not...cool. What do you want?
DEVIL: (to HANNA) Where have you been, my love?
ZACH: Hey! Don't talk to my wife like that.
DEVIL: You don't remember me?
HANNA: That was seven years ago. I have a family now.
DEVIL: The past follows people, Hanna. You don't think I can just forget that summer we spent in Montana, do you?
TIMMY: So that's where Hell is.
HANNA: Timmy, Hell is not in Montana.
DEVIL: Go with me Hanna!
HANNA: But I have a family now.
DEVIL: You make me sad, my sweet. I came here hoping that you would go away with me.
HANNA: But my children.
DEVIL: Ha!
HANNA: My husband!
DEVIL: Ha!
ZACH: What's wrong with me?
DEVIL: You aren't the owner of seven world class sailing ships.
ZACH: I have a canoe.
DEVIL: Ha! That's nothing compared to my fleet.
[Hanna swoons.]
ZACH: Honey, what's the matter?
HANNA: The thought of seven ships was too much. I'll go with him!
ZACH: What?
HANNA: I'm leaving you Zach; he has seven sailing ships.
DEVIL: Actually eight... I forgot about the one that I sailed in to get here.
HANNA: Bye, Ronnie. Bye, Timmy. Be good little boys, grow up strong. I'll never see you again.
[The scene changes. Suddenly the DEVIL and HANNA are on a boat.]
HANNA: Oh, your ship is so beautiful.
DEVIL: My mast is made of solid gold.
HANNA: Wow! How long have we been sailing?
DEVIL: (Starting to get seasick) Not long, my dear, only three leagues...oooohhh!
HANNA: Are you all right?
DEVIL: Just a bit seasick, that's all. I think I'll sit down for a bit.
HANNA: Sit here and I will massage your feet.
DEVIL: No, don't!
[HANNA removes the DEVIL's shoe to reveal a hideous clubbed foot.]
HANNA: Oh! (She beings to cry.)
DEVIL: Do not think I am a monster because of my deformed foot. Don't cry, my dear. Look to your left, and you will see the flowers on the banks of Italy.
HANNA: How wonderful!
DEVIL: Those to the right are the gates of Heaven.
HANNA: Will I ever go there?
DEVIL: No.... you wouldn't like it. It's not for you. To many people. Surprisingly, over the past few years it has become quite a tourist attraction.
HANNA: Where are you taking me?
DEVIL: I'm the Devil.... to HELL! Where else?
HANNA: I don't want to go to Hell!
DEVIL: Sorry. That's my job.
[The boat begins to sink.]
HANNA: The boat is sinking.
DEVIL: Can you swim?
HANNA: No.
DEVIL: Welcome to Hell, babe.
[Lights come up to reveal two males. One is dressed in all gray. He is wearing a flat silver hat, and his feet are bound together in a point. The other is dressed in all brown except for his head, on which he wears a strange hat/mask in the shape of a hammer. The set is simple. There are other various tools hanging off peg boards in the back and empty wire spools for them to sit on. In the background there are sounds of a lawn mover and a garage door opening and closing.]
HAMMER: (Sits) Man, I have a headache.
NAIL: Why's that?
HAMMER: Well, yesterday morning I was going about my usual business, and all of the sudden something happened. I'm having a hard time remembering. I don't know. It was kinda like... well... All I remember was a lot of banging and this pressure around my waist. I felt like someone was using me to drive a stake into the ground. Have you ever felt like that?
NAIL: No.
HAMMER: Come on, I'm sure you've felt that way one time or another.
NAIL: O.K. The truth is yes, but I don't like to talk about it.
HAMMER: Well, you're really nailed up today aren't you?
NAIL: Fine... there was this one time when I felt like I was being driven into the ground, but then all of the sudden I had the feeling of being pulled back out with this lever... or something.
HAMMER: Strange.
NAIL: So are you alright and everything?
HAMMER: Yeah, but I don't know what I'm going to do about this. I think I'm even starting to forget things. Last night, I was sitting on the shelf, at home you know, watching the cars come into the garage like I always do. I thought that was pretty normal and all, but then all of a sudden I forgot my name. I went blank. I didn't know if my name was Screwdriver, Plier, or Wrench. To tell you the truth, I still am not completely sure. What's my name?
NAIL: Hammer. Your name is Hammer. You really are acting crazy.
HAMMER: And that's not all. I feel like my head is loose. It's slipping around
[HAMMER puts his hands to the side of his head and slides it around.]
NAIL: Then just jump up and down. Use the laws of physics, man. Inertia. You should have learned this at school. I mean we're based on simple mechanics.
HAMMER: I told you, I can't remember anything.
NAIL: Is that what they call amnesia?
HAMMER: I think so.
NAIL: Well, go ahead give it a try.
HAMMER: Try what?
NAIL: Physics!!!
HAMMER: Oh, Alright.
[He starts jumping up and down, and then feels his head.]
HAMMER: Heh! It worked. I feel much tighter. Thanks!
NAIL: It's Newton's first law, my friend: an object at rest stays at rest until an unbalanced force acts on it.
HAMMER: But now my feet hurt.
NAIL: Stop complaining. At least you don't have a sharp edge for feet.
HAMMER: You've got a point. Ha ha ha ha!
NAIL: Watch it, Hammer. I've been under a lot of stress. I don't know what I'm going to do?
HAMMER: Gee I'm sorry. All this time we've been talking about me, I didn't even realize you might have a problem.
NAIL: (Sobbing and blowing nose) Well, I do!
HAMMER: I don't mean to pry. Ha ha ha! (He slaps his hand over his mouth on account of laughing at his own bad joke.) But really, can I help? I mean, you've always been there for me.
NAIL: (Suddenly he turns and gets a wicked glare in his eyes.) Yeah, that's hitting it square on the head isn't it? It's all going under. Tomorrow it's... MY turn. Do ya know what that means? No, I guess you wouldn't, would ya? You have... Amnesia!
HAMMER: It's not my fault!
NAIL: (Using his normal voice) Yeah I know. I just added that for the dramatic qualities that it possesses. (goes back to highly dramatic tirade) Soon I'll be nothing more than a little piece of metal driven into a piece of wood to... (chokes at the thought) hold it together.
HAMMER: NO!! (Gasp) You're a nail!?
NAIL: What did you think I was?
HAMMER: (Ashamed at his dumbness) A screw without any threads.
NAIL: No, you idiot. I'm a nail!
HAMMER: Nail!? That means that I'm going to have to... Oh! I'm sorry man!
[There is a long period of silence. HAMMER and NAIL look at each other. HAMMER is in shame and NAIL in hate. They look away as soon as they find each others eyes.]
HAMMER: We could... No that won't work. Or we could... Nah. Have you ever read that book? Never mind.
NAIL: What book?
HAMMER: Well it's called Down on Squid Row. There is this Fisherman who hates fish cause he doesn't like how they smell. One day he comes home from work smelling of fish, and his wife tells him to sleep on the couch because he smells so bad. Then this giant squid comes and tries to eat him. Just when it looks like there isn't any hope, the wife comes out of the bedroom and kills the squid with a toothbrush. And... And... then something else happens, and the squid comes back to life, and spits out the toothbrush. It stabs him in the eyes and blinds the fisherman.
NAIL: (Sarcastically) That's cute! But it won't help me!
HAMMER: You're right. We would never get the toothbrush to help us!
NAIL: (Ignoring the last statement, he puts his head in his hands and starts to weep.) I have a wife and a box of one hundred and ninety nine-- No, Rodney was used to nail a broken chair back together last week-- 198 kids. The worst part is that my best friend is going to send me to my death.
HAMMER: I don't remember Rodney.
NAIL: Well, you should. You drove him into the leg of that maple chair last week!
HAMMER: I did?
NAIL: You're a hammer! Remember?
HAMMER: Sorry... It's the amnesia.
NAIL: Look Hammer, no hard feelings. I just want you to know that I still think you're a great tool. I understand that hammering nails is your job, and holding things together is mine. So don't feel bad. Now don't forget me, you hear.
HAMMER: Gee thanks, Nail. I'll go easy on you. Hey look at the bright side, on account of the amnesia, maybe I won't remember killing you.
[Lights fade as HAMMER and NAIL sit in a depressing silence.]
NARRATOR: There once was a fisherman. (FISHERMAN enters.) He was portly, disgusting, and smelled of fish. He was an abomination. Yet, his wife gladly slept with him. One day the wife served dinner. It was fish, of course. After the meal, the fisherman exclaimed...
FISHERMAN: That's fishlicoius!
NARRATOR: The wife was upset with her portly companion for making a stupid, stupid pun. She said...
WIFE: I'm upset, and I will not sleep with you, and you smell... like fish!
NARRATOR: And so the fisherman slept on the couch.
FISHERMAN: This couch is lumpy!
NARRATOR: The fisherman got no sleep that night. The next day he went to the dock.
FISHERMAN: Hello, seagull. What's your name? (There is no answer.) OK, mine's Frank. Want some baloney? (He gives baloney to the seagull.) Well, it's nice to "meat" you!
NARRATOR: After hearing the bad pun, the bird flew away and yelled, "You smell."
FISHERMAN: (To narrator) Nobody likes me!
NARRATOR: Guess you'll have to go eat worms.
FISHERMAN: (Looks at the ground next to him) Hey look; it's a little ant! Hello. How are you, sir?
[Suddenly, a large ant appears.]
ANT: Hey watch it! I'm a lady. You smell.
FISHERMAN: Sorry.
ANT: What do you think your doing? I gotta get home or my husband will find out that I'm sleeping around behind his back.
FISHERMAN: Oh, that's nice.
ANT: But don't think I'm a slut or anything.
FISHERMAN: Wouldn't you be a "slant"! And your having an "antfair"!
NARRATOR: Once again, because of the fisherman's bad pun the ant disappeared after slapping him.
FISHERMAN: Woe is Me! I always thought that I was punny.
NARRATOR: I'm outta here. I can't stand to listen this anymore!
[The NARRATOR exits. A SQUID suddenly attacks the FISHERMAN.]
FISHERMAN: Ahhhhh!
SQUID: You smell like fish. I'm going to eat you.
FISHERMAN: You'll have to catch me first.
[Chase scene. The NARRATOR enters.]
NARRATOR: And so, the fisherman escaped the squid by returning home. He locked the door and turned around to find his wife cooking beef!
FISHERMAN: Nooooo! Not beef! I leave you, and what do you do? You cook cow! How could you?
NARRATOR: Before the wife has a chance to explain, the Squid bursts open the door. Naturally, the wife runs into the bedroom.
FISHERMAN: Honey, this is no time for make-up sex.
WIFE: Hold the fish off while I devise a plan.
SQUID: (Tips his hat) I'm a squid, Madame, not a fish.
WIFE: Oh, pardon me. I found it!
NARRATOR: The wife returns with a toothbrush... a toothbrush of all things! Yes, a toothbrush. It had a rubber grip handle and curved bristles.
WIFE: Look, I found a toothbrush!
FISHERMAN: Great. The squid can brush his teeth.
SQUID: I'll have you know that I don't have any teeth, but I do practice perfect hygiene... on my tentacles.
NARRATOR: Without warning, the fisherman's wife leaped up and stabbed the squid in the nostrils.
SQUID: Awwww!
[ The SQUID collapses on the floor.]
FISHERMAN:I'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo proud. Come here and give me a kiss.
WIFE: Oh honey, I love you. I'm sorry I threw you out, but before you hug me, brush your teeth because you smell... like fish. Here's some tooth paste.
[She exits.]
FISHERMAN: Great, now where could I find a toothbrush? Oh here's one! (He pulls the brush out of the nostrils of the SQUID.)
NARRATOR: While the Fisherman was brushing his teeth, the squid rose up agiain. The fisherman sensed a dark shadow creeping towards him. When he turned around, the Squid had removed the largest toothbrush the fisherman had ever seen from the pouch that hung at the Squid's waist. The squid shoved it in the fisherman's eye, leaving the fisherman blind.
SQUID: I always make sure my tentacles are clean.
NARRATOR: The squid left. To this day, the Fisherman is still blind and still smells... like fish. His wife left him and married the Squid, because he practiced perfect tenticular hygiene.
Here is the celebrated performance art piece that Lee, Rebekah, and I debuted at the CHS 2000 Coffeehouse. It was the first experience with performance art for all of us. One really can't appreciate it fully without the movement, costumes, and music. When we perform this piece, we always finish it with a recital of
DRIVER
WOMAN
OFFSTAGE VOICE
MOTHER
CHILD
BALLET DANCER
GENTLEMAN
SUPERHERO
By Park Cofield
An Adaptation by Park Cofield
By: Park Cofield
By: Park Cofield
Documentrice: Lee Fairchild
Lemur: Rebekah Nagy
Documenteur: Jason Jenkins
EXT. JUNGLE. DUSK.
We are in a small, jungle-like enclosure, seeming almost to be a forest overgrown with technology. Weed-like cables coil everywhere, duct-taped into thickets that wind round the floor.
The documenteur is crouched on the floor downstage right, his hands covering his face. He should blend in with the scenery, scarcely visible in his lack of motion.
A documentrice walks onstage anxiously, carrying a tablet. She writes as if she cannot get the fleeting words down fast enough.
DOCUMENTRICE: The subject has been visiting this area more and more frequently as of late. He grows increasingly more complex and beautiful by the minute...
The Lemur enters, sauntering and prowling about with an animal's grace.
DOCUMENTRICE: As to not disturb it, I'll hide myself in the arbor...
The lemur prowls and paces round, dancing in a noticeably avant-garde fashion. Fervent and jungle-inspired music begins to play...
LEMUR: I am lemur
I am brown
The documenteur rises as he is cued, animated for the first time. He speaks with an Australian drawl and writes furiously on a tablet as the documentrice did earlier. His clothing looks like that of a jungle wanderer.
DOCUMENTEUR: (wilst growing increasingly louder) Crikie! Look at that one! That's a beaut! The more I watch her, the more I want to be a Lemur.. to put on my lemur pajamas and become LemurMan! KING OF THE FOREST!
At this, the lemur raises her head. The documenteur sees the lemur leering at him and coyly recoils.
DOCUMENTRICE: It seems that for the past several weeks, he has been documenting a lemur... It's quite a paradox... that he is so intent upon studying his subject he has yet to notice me...
The lemur repeats the same strange line as before.
LEMUR: I am lemur
I am brown
DOCUMENTEUR: I feel as if I am becoming a lemur myself...
The movements of the lemur and the documenteur begin to synchronize. The music speeds up and they join in an abstract, animalistic sort of dance. When one of them speaks, they both pause, holding avant-garde poses.
LEMUR: I am lemur
I am brown
Noiseless,
Wafting tree-like...
DOCUMENTEUR: Single white male seeks
(a beat)
Lower-primate status.
LEMUR: Sister of the monkey
Small
Nocturnal
Of the genus Lemur
DOCUMENTEUR: Why am I bound in this oppressive suit of hairless flesh?
LEMUR: Hiding, loathing day
blinding void of daysun
(a beat)
splitting shafts of light
radiate coloured eyepoison...
They end their dance no more than several feet from one another, crouched on the floor. They stare at one another for a few seconds, the tension breaking as the documenteur interjects...
The documenteur cries out, overwhelmed by the small distance between the lemur and himself; he has never been this close to the animal he has studied so long...
DOCUMENTEUR: Crikie!
The music pauses...
The lemur has heard him speak and is now aware of the human's presence. Her eyes grow wide as she stiffens, straightening her body and staring at the two humans. The music resumes and takes on a frenetic quality unlike before.
The documentrice steps back, out of the spotlight, leaving the documenteur and the lemur alone centerstage.
The lemur begins to run about the stage frantically, but not without that same bestial grace as before that so drew the documenteur to her.
DOCUMENTEUR: She cannot get away! I've never been able to study a lemur this closely...
He begins to chase her, his human-like movements contrasting with her graceful ones. The documentrice runs offstage after them.
The two run back on, falling to the ground as seeds, bodies small s possible. They slowly raise up, arms outstretched, no longer mammalian, but now plant-like. They are trees.
The two speak softly, words overlapping.
DOCUMENTEUR: Puzzled...
LEMUR: Enigmatic...
DOCUMENTRICE (quietly) Where are they?
FADE TO BLACK
I wrote this play in the summer after seventh grade. My cat had recently passed away, so I decided to commemerate her life by writing a humorous sketch. She was a funny cat.
Characters:
Scene 1
[MOM AND DAD are sitting center stage, having a discussion]
MOM: I can't believe that Sunshine chased her tail today. She hasn't done that in almost ten years.
DAD: I think she's getting senile.
MOM: Matt!
DAD: It's true Jane, do you remember when she ran right into the wall yesterday.
MOM: Well, that's true but I--
DAD: She also forgot how to use the litter box.
MOM: I'm sure it was an accident.
DAD: Five times in a row?
MOM: It could be a coincidence.
DAD: I don't think so.
MOM: Well, what do you mean by this?
DAD: Well, Sunshine is old.
MOM: Yes...
DAD: Twelve, that's 84 in cat years.
MOM: So?
DAD: I think she needs to be put to sleep.
[MOM stands.]
MOM: Matt! How could you?
DAD: It's for the best. The cat is suffering.
MOM: What about the children?
DAD: They'll get over it.
MOM: (sitting) Are you sure?
DAD: Yes.
MOM: I'll think on it.
[Lights]
Scene 2
[BILLY, BO, and BOB are watching TV. Billy is sitting in a chair, BO and BOB are on the floor. BO turns off the TV]
BO: Where's Sunshine?
BILLY: Mom and dad took her to the vet.
BO: Why?
BOB: Probably, because of her peeing problem. I just cleaned up a puddle in the kitchen.
BO: Why?
BOB: Because I don't want to go to dinner and step in pee.
BO: Why?
BOB: Guess.
[MOM and DAD enter stage left carring a bag.]
DAD: Bo, Bob, I want to talk to Billy.
BO: Why?
DAD: I'll tell you later. (BO and BOB exit.) Billy, your mother has some bad news for you.
MOM: No, your father will say it; it was his idea.
BILLY: What is it?
DAD: Do you remember Sunshine?
BILLY: What do you mean "remember"?
DAD: Well, she was getting old and--
BILLY: You don't mean- (DAD shakes the bag.) she is.. dead?
[BILLY acts like he is about to cry, but holds it in.]
BOB: (Running in crying) You killed her?
MOM: Were you listening in through the door?
BOB: Were you killing my cat?
DAD: I'm sorry, but she was old and...
BOB: (Through his tears) How would you like it if someone killed you?
DAD: I wouldn't care. I would be dead. She was suffering; It was the humain thing to do.
BOB: (Wiping his eyes) What, killing her?
DAD: Yes, does Bo know about this?
BOB: No, he is in his room.
MOM: What's he doing?
BOB: I don't know.
DAD: Don't tell him this.
BOB: Why?
DAD: We will tell him when the time is right.
Scene 3
[BILLY is sitting in a chair center stage, preferably with a guitar.]
BILLY: (Singing) I have a cat, her name's Sunshine.
I got the blues
I used to think my cat was neat
I got the blues
[MOM enters stage left.]
MOM: Why are you singing that song again?
BILLY: I got 'dem blues.
MOM: I'm sorry. You need to get in the car.
BILLY: Why?
MOM: Your father is going to take us to the pet store.
BILLY: You mean--?
MOM: Yes, a new pet.
BILLY: Thank you.
[Lights.]
I wrote this play as a response to a Robert Frost poem.
[ANT1 enters and feels his way around the stage. A few seconds later ANT2 enters from the opposite side.]
ANT1: Halt! What are you doing here?
ANT2: I’m looking for food.
ANT1: What colony do you belong to?
ANT2: I serve the queen of the colony by the mailbox.
ANT1: Intruder! I’m afraid that I am forced to kill you.
ANT2: You can’t kill me. I’m a forager ant. Let me get an explorer ant. You can kill him.
ANT1: All right.
[ANT2 leaves and comes back with ANT3.]
ANT3: My colleague says that we are in your territory.
ANT1: That’s right. I am required to kill you according to standard ant protocol.
ANT3: Fair enough.
[ANT1 kills ANT3.]
ANT1: Will you leave, or do I have to kill more ants from your colony?
ANT2: I will have to ask a decision making ant.
ANT1: OK.
[ANT2 leaves and returns with ANT4.]
ANT4: So, what’s happening here?
ANT2: This ant says that we are in his territory, but I see some jujubes over there which would feed us through the winter.
ANT4: The prospect of jujubes overrides the possible loss of life. Let’s declare war for this territory. (to ANT2) We formally declare war for the jujubes.
ANT1: Let me get a General ant.
[ANT1 leaves and returns with ANT5.]
ANT5: So, you want to declare war?
ANT4: Yes; for the jujubes.
ANT5: OK; let’s get our troops.
[ANTs 1 and 2 stay on stage while ANTs 4 and 5 leave to their respective sides. ANT4 returns with ANTs 6-10 and ANT5 returns with ANTs 11-15. A great battle ensues and everyone dies except for ANT1 and ANT2 who only watch the battle.]
ANT2: Looks like nobody gets the jujubes.
ANT1: Yep, see you tomorrow.
[ANT1 and ANT2 exit.]
[Students file into the room carrying their science projects.]
TIMMY: I made a volcano out of vinegar and baking soda. What did you do?
NICK: I have a helio-centric model of the solar system.
TIMMY: What?
NICK: See, I have the sun in the middle, and these balls are planets circling the sun. This one is the earth.
TIMMY: You’re stupid.
NICK: Shut up, Fart Face!
TEACHER: Students, settle down. Mr. and Mrs. Medici have generously donated this brick of gold to go to the winner of the science fair. So, I’ll judge the exhibits. Timmy, what do you have?
TIMMY: I made a volcano. When I put vinegar here with the baking soda, it erupts.
TEACHER: Excellent. Nicolaus, what did you make?
NICK: A helio-centric model of the solar system.
TEACHER: What?
NICK: It’s a model of the solar system. The sun is in the middle and the planets are circling it.
TEACHER: What are you talking about? The sun and the other planets circle the earth. Why are the planets spheres?
NICK: The planets really are round.
TEACHER: You stupid Polock. They’re flat. Come here. (Takes NICK to window.) Look, the earth is flat. Look up. See the sun? It was over there; now, its there. Do you know why?
NICK: Because the earth is rotating.
TEACHER: No. Because the sun circles the earth. You can’t just make up science. Look at Timmy’s project. See, it works. Volcanoes erupt because God mixes vinegar and baking soda. Its not because the earth moves, or some stupid idea like that. Nick, you get an F. Timmy wins the science fair.
MOM
DAD
BILLY
BO
BOB
She was the favorite pet of mine.
She had eyes the color blue
Which she used to stare at you.
My cat has brown fur.
When she talks, she says, "purr"
I liked to pet her on the head,
But woe is me, my cat is dead.
Ohhh, the dead cat blues.
Then she had to be put to sleep.
She used to get rid of miece,
But now she can't 'cause she's deceased.
I used to pet her everyday,
But now I can't 'cause she passed away.
They gave her poison to kill her brain.
My parents thought it was humain.
Ohhh, the dead cat blues.
by Jason Jenkins
by Jason Jenkins