-- Num ---- Username ---- Category ------------- Posted -- Expires --- Pages ---
| 44421 | STU_RSFURR   | STORIES              | 12/15/92 | 12/22/92 |    22    |
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| Description: collapse...a play (my best work)                                |
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Concept
Plot analysis
Character analysis
Rehearsal schedule
audition format
 
Collapse
a play
 
Setting: Unimportant. A blank stage will do, although there is no
need to keep the stage perfectly clean. If another production is
going up after this, then it is acceptable to have the work in
progress for the next play on stage during this production.
 
Lighting: A simple, static lighting setup will do. There is no need
to have any sort of interesting lights. if the lights can suggest
normal incandescant bulbs, so much the better.
 
Characters:
Protagonist 1: Has a grey sweater on.
Protagonist 2: Looks very much like Protagonist 1
Protagonist 3: Looks nothing like Protagonist 1
Foil: No particular requirement.
Stage Manager: Has a script.
 
The lights come up on the empty stage. Protagonist 1 and Foil enter
from stage left, talking.
 
Foil: I don't think Plato really represented Socrates' true
philosophies...there are contradictions inherent in what Plato said
Socrates sa...
 
Protagonist 1 (distantly, as if he's only listening with one ear.)
Plato is a bore.
 
Foil (moderately insulted): What? Well, I know he's not exactly the
most interesting of writers...
 
P1 (snapping back into reality): What?
 
Foil: You said Plato is a bore and I don't agree...
 
P1: Oh! Sorry, no, that's a quote. I'm sorry, it just popped out.
 
Foil: A quote? Well, I'd be willing to bet that whoever said it
isn't qualified to really judge Plato...
 
P1 (fading out of reality again): "Plato is a bore." - Nietzsche.
Born 1844, died 1900, he was the originator of (snapping back into
reality again.) Ah, whoops. I took this philosophy course way back
when, and it sticks sometimes.
 
Foil: Nietzsche said that?
 
P1: Dunno where, but yeah.
 
Foil: Sounds like him, anyway. So, do you think that Socrates was
accurately presented or not?
 
P1: uh...
 
Foil: I didn't think so...but I turned in this paper to my
philosophy teacher and she didn't like it at all...
 
P1 (out of it once more): What if there had been room at the inn?
 
Foil: I don't think you're listening. (only now noticing what was
said.) What?
 
P1: Hmm? Oh, something you said reminded me of something else, and
that got me to wondering, and that just popped out. Nevermind.
 
Foil: No, this is interesting...what did I say that reminded you of
hotels?
 
P1: No, no, inns.
 
Foil: Big difference.
 
P1: Sort of. You were talking about Plato, that reminded me about
Nietzsche, I remembered his birthdate, that reminded me of Plato's
birthdate, which was, what? 420 B.C.?
 
Foil: I think 427.
 
P1: Whatever. Anyway, that's 427 B.C., which stands for before
Christ, and that got me to thinking somehow...
 
Foil: Somehow.
 
P1: Right. Got me to thinking, somehow, about what would have
happened if they'd actually gotten a room at the inn. I mean, was
there any actual theological significance to this happening in some
stable?
 
Foil: You got there from Plato?
 
P1: Yep.
 
Foil: You're weirder than I thought.
 
P1: You're just figuring that out?
 
Foil: I had a few clues before this...remember the time you set
fire to your hand 'cause your fingers were cold?
 
P1: It worked, didn't it?
 
Foil: I guess so.
 
P1: A rubbing alcohol fire wouldn't ignite paper. So, I wasn't that
crazy for doing it.
 
Foil: You got your opinion, I got mine.
 
P1: Yeah, but in my opinion, I'm a real lunatic, if you want to get
into it. Sanity and I haven't talked in a loooong while. You just
think I'm weird.
 
Foil: Come on, you can't be all that crazy, not if you're still out
of the asylum.
 
P1: Wanna bet? I got phobias I don't think they've come up with a
name for yet. (sits down, wherever he happens to be.)
 
Foil: Hey...I'm a psych major. Bounce one off me. (sits also)
 
P1: You really want to hear?
 
Foil: Sure. I'm taking abnormal psych next semester, I might do a
paper on you, huh?
 
P1: Go for it.
 
Foil: All right, so what's one of these bonzo fears you've got?
 
P1: Okay...you've read a little science fiction, right?
 
Foil: Yeah...?
 
P1: Did you ever read anything about parallel worlds, what-would-
happen-if-Grant-had-lost-at-Gettysburg, that sort of thing?
 
Foil: Grant wasn't at Gettysburg, was he?
 
P1: I don't know. Have you?
 
Foil: No, but I saw that movie, Back to the Back or whatever it
was called.
 
P1: Oh,right. I remember that. Good example. Anyway, I've got two fears about
that sort of thing all by itself. First of all, I'm scared that, like, one
day I'm supposed to meet someone somewhere, and I'll slip from the
world that I'm supposed to meet them in, into a world
where I'm not. Or maybe even a world-line where I don't exist. So,
I'll walk up to these people and they won't know me, because in
that world I would of never existed. Not only would I be
terminally embarassed, I'd also be in deep shit because I wouldn't
have any previous existence in that world...no bank account, no
valid driver's license, no nothing.
 
Foil: You're scared of that?
 
P1: Yeah...I know it makes absolutely no sense...
 
Foil: Got that right.
 
P1: I mean, even I know it's stupid...
 
Foil: Not only is it stupid, it's incomprehensible, too.
 
P1: All right, here's a simpler one for you. You've seen the horror
movies where everything's perfectly normal until this character
opens the wrong door, or steps in the wrong puddle, or something
like that, and then WHAM that character's being eaten alive, right?
 
Foil: Right.
 
P1: The way I figure it, if there are an infinite number of worlds like that,
and I've read a few books that suggest there might be, then every chance,
every combination has to pop up somewhere. So, what I'm scared of is,
well, what if this universe is the one where I'm the character who opens
the door and gets eaten alive by a puddle of radioactive Jell-o? Everything
seems perfectly normal, now, just like it does for all those characters
in the movies, just before they get eaten.
 
Foil: You actually worry about this?
 
P1: Yep.
 
Foil: That's really weird.
 
P1: Well, isn't the definition of a phobia "an irrational fear?" I
mean, that's as irrational as they come. Even I know better, but I
still worry about it.
 
Foil: At least you've got phobias with class. Other people, they're
afraid of falling, or roaches, or knives, or large men named
"Bubba." But you, whoa boy, you gotta go all out for the weird
ones, huh?
 
P1: I told you I wasn't exactly stable.
 
Foil: Now, wait, this doesn't make you insane...it just shows that
you've got imagination.
 
P1: (Jokingly) Vincent Van Gogh had imagination and look what
happened to him.
 
Foil: Huh?
 
P1: I mean, any day now, I'll probably be slicing off my ear and
mailing it to Oscar Meyer, just like him.
 
Foil: He didn't send his ear to Oscar Meyer.
 
P1: He would have if he'd had the chance. No, seriously, all
kidding aside, I've got serious worries about my own mental health.
I mean, you know I spend a lot of time reading.
 
Foil: Yep.
 
P1: Well, lately, I've been feeling more and more like I was a
character in a book or something.
 
Foil: A book or something.
 
P1: Not exactly a book, more like someone else is pretending to be
me, and saying the things that I'd say. So, I guess that I feel
like a character in a play.
 
Foil: A play.
 
P1: Yeah...a play. Which worries me, 'cause it's right about now
that any self-respecting actor would quit playing me.
 
(long pause)
 
P1: (Breaks character, gets up, starts walking towards off-stage,
shouting as he goes.) Damn straight any self-respecting actor would
quit right about now. I got a test to study for tomorrow...why am
I here? This play sucks shit! Hey! NAME OF ACTOR PLAYING STAGE
MANAGER! (Foil sits there, and looks generally confused.)
 
Stage Manager: (coming on stage, same side as Protagonist 1, and
stops P1 from leaving stage.) Whoa, slow down. Get back and keep
going with the play!
 
P1: Hell, no! Look, this play sucks...you know it, I know it, let's
say the hell with it and go study for tomorrow, okay?
 
SM: No! Look, we can't stop it now!
 
P1: Well, I'm leaving anyway. Get what's-his-name out here.
 
SM: At least leave your costume, okay?
 
P1: Costume? COSTUME? I don't have a costume, I got a sweater!
 
SM: So leave the sweater, okay? (goes off stage) Hey! Understudy!
Front and center!
 
(P1 peels off the sweater, and leaves it on the floor, then walks
off stage left. A pause, then Protagonist 2 walks on, pushed on by
Stage Manager.)
 
P2: But we're in the middle of a performance! Where's ...
 
SM: He left. Get the sweater on and keep going!
 
(P2 looks around, picks up the sweater, pulls it on, and sits down
in the same location as P1 had been sitting. A pause.)
 
P2: (towards off stage, in a stage whisper.) What's my line?
 
SM: (Steps out onto stage, calls, also in stage whisper.) "Whoa.
There it went!"
 
P2: (to SM) Cool. Thanks. (Back in character) Whoa. There it went.
It's somebody else (breaks character, calls off stage) Line?
 
SM: (steps out, calls) "It's somebody else saying my lines"
 
P2: It's somebody else saying my lines now, it feels like. And, you
know what?
 
Foil: What?
 
P2: I don't think I'd be so worried about this feeling if I didn't
know that (breaks character) Line?
 
SM: "if I didn't know that plays end. You know..."
 
P2: If I didn't know that plays end. You know, It feels like this
actor doesn't know his lines all that well.
 
Foil: Come on, this is you (Foil looks very nervous) talking...this
isn't an actor reading your lines, you're you.
 
P2: No, no I'm not. At least, I... (breaks character) Line.
 
SM: "At least, I don't think so."
 
P2: This is not going to work.
 
SM: Keep going, damnit!
 
P2: I'm sorry, but I don't know the lines....(getting very
embarassed now, looking at the audience.) I'm sorry.
 
(pulls sweater off, and runs off stage.)
 
SM: Oh, christ.
 
Foil: (breaks character) Great.
 
SM: (turns, looks off stage.) You! Yes! You! Come here! You're the
lead now!
 
P3: I am? When did this happen? (coming on stage, looks slightly
scared.)
 
SM: When the lead and his understudy decided to walk off. Here's a
script. We're on page six, about halfway down. Go for it. (leaves
stage.)
 
P3: (flips through script, reads, pauses, walks over to pick up
sweater, holds sweater, and sits down...in a different location
from the previous two protagonists. Swallows. Looks around, then at
Foil.) Two minutes ago, I was a stagehand. I'm getting credit for
being a stagehand.
 
Foil: (breaks character) Maybe you can get extra credit for this.
 
P3: Maybe. Where are we?
 
Foil: "at least, I don't think so."
 
P3: Cool. (Obviously reading from the script.) "At least, I don't
think so. In fact, it happened again...worse."
 
Foil: (back in character) Worse?
 
P3: er... ah. "I feel like now I'm nothing but words on the page,
being read. It's an awful feeling, my entire life being reduced to
seven pages of bad prose."
 
Foil: It can't be that bad...you're a real person.
 
P3: "Not any more, I don't think. And I don't think you are,
either. I'm getting the worst feeling...my entire life is collaps-
ing down to those seven pages...and nobody's ever going to read
them again, and anyone in my life is going to be taken along with
me.
 
Foil: I'm starting to get nervous.
 
P3: "Get out while you can, then. I don't think there's much time."
 
Foil: Okay... (stands up) but if it turns out that you're a real
person anyway, you want to go out for pizza on Thursday?
 
P3: "Don't joke! There's not much time! Get out! Get off the
stage!"
 
Foil: Stage?
 
P3: "Just GO!"
 
Foil: Okay, okay. Bye. (Foil leaves, but he begins his next line
before he leaves the stage entirely, and continues off into the
wings.) I am going to KILL that guy! He just ruined this whole damn
show!
 
P3: "I never wanted it to end this way. Actually, I never wanted it
to end, period, but ..." (P3 looks confused, flips the last page
back and forth, then stands up, and walks slowly off stage left.
While still occupied with the script, P3 calls off stage)
 
P3: Hey! I think there's a page missing...
 
(the lights stay up at the end. There is no curtain call, and the
audience can decide for itself when it wants to leave.)
 
the end