Dramatis Personae
[Lights close suddenly. Curtains open. Heavy Industrial music begins playing very loudly as spotlights randomly dance about the stage, which is bare. The backdrop, floor and everything else of the stage is black. The spotlights stop, except for one, which rests on the NARRATOR. He walks calmly to the centre of the stage. He begins speaking, but the audience cannot hear him over the music. Then, the music stops abruptly.]
NARRATOR: -is that people don't realize how much plastic there is in the world. Go into any room on Earth, and the presence of plastic is almost guarenteed. Over 80% of everything made in the industrialized world has plastic content of some sort. Our computers, cassette tapes, our mountains, our country, our highways paved in gold, the blood in our veins. Plastic, plastic, plastic. This, to me, is a reflection of the communist dogma perpetuating in our society and government. But aren't they really one and the same? For our laws reflect society, and they are made by the government. But, for me, the existence of milk is the most interesting phenomona existing in the Universe. Did you know that 100% of everything everyone does, in some way, effects the dairy industry?
[The spotlight closes suddenly, leaving everything dark. The NARRATOR's words echo of into the distance.]
Our story begins in a field, with the only two characters of the play, me and mom.
[Spotlight opens on JIM1 and MOM, lying about.]
MOM: -high time we grew sensible. And all this, this life abroad, and all this Europe of yours is just a delusion, and all of us are a delusion. Mark my words, you'll see it for yourself! But who am I to say what is a delusion and what isn't? Aren't we all deluded? Aren't I deluded? For, in some way, everyone has a different perspective of reality from everyone else, and that's what makes life so confusing. I could say that this landscape is beautiful, but someone, somewhere, will most definitely disagree with me. But, to me, the landscape is beautiful, and this is the truth. But to that other person, let's call him, say, Xavier, to Xavier, this landscape is not beautiful, and that is the truth. But how can there be two truths, both contradicting each other? And yet, it happens. It happens.
BILL: Hey!
[Spotlight widens suddenly to include BILL, who is standing] How about a Bar-B-Que?
JIM1: That sounds like a good idea Bill. Why don't you go catch and skin some bunnies. Then go down to the store and get a grill, some charcoal, lighter fluid and matches. Then come back here and fry us up some dogs. Me and mom will watch to make sure you are doing it right.
BILL: Hmmm... On second thought, I don't want to put forth the effort.
[Spotlight narrows to include only JIM1 and MOM. They are silent. The spotlight closes after a few seconds, to reopen on JIM2, EXECUTIVES and ROMANS. JIM1 is standing at the head of the table at which EXECUTIVES and ROMANS sit. JIM2 opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, forgetting what he is going to say. He tries to act tough, but it comes across looking lame.]
ROMAN or EXEC: Hey! How about a Bar-B-Que?
[They all laught uproariously, JIM2 turns red with embarrassment. Spotlight closes, to open on JIM3, who is wearing a red velvet bathrobe and sitting in a velvet easychair. Sounds of a roaring fire are played. A flash of light blinds the audience, and hellish demon sounds are played. A DEMON appears. The hellish demon sounds are overplayed, and BILL3 and DEMON seem to wait for them to stop.]
DEMON: I am Asgarth, the demon. My card. [Hands him a flaming piece of paper.]
BILL3: Hello.
DEMON: Are you Napoleon Bonaparte?
BILL3: No. I'm afraid he died in exile about 200 years ago.
DEMON: Fuck. Would you please put this on? [Demon pulls the uniform of an SS general, and a baseball cap out of his cape.]
BILL3: [Suspiciously] Why?
DEMON: DO AS I SAY OR SUFFER MY WRATH!! [Flashing strobe lights and pyrotechnics emphasize the DEMON's words. He spreads his arms, causing his cape to spread out impressively. BILL3 and DEMON again wait for hellsounds and pyrotechnics to stop.]
BILL3: That's a nice cape.
[Fireplace sounds stop abruptly. BILL3 and DEMON look about, puzzled. Spotlight closes. Curtains close.]
[Leave audience to gather in the foyer. In the middle of the intermission, turn all lights out, leaving them in the darkness. Turn them on again to reveal, for a second the cast hanging from the rafters, wearing chicken suits.]
CAST: Brick!
[Lights out, then back onto reveal normality.]
[Curtains open. There is a leafy tree. The floor is realistic grass substitute. The background is of a mountainous sunset. The backdrop falls suddenly. Enter STAGEHANDS, who remove the tree and backdrop and roll up the grass, leaving the audience with a black stage again. Lights close. Spotlight opens on one of the ROMANS and one of the EXECUTIVES, who are having an arguement.]
ROMAN: EXECUTIVE: While I agree with the I'm afriad I don't agree, for I am a imperialistic dogma which Mesonite. Although my basest instincts overides the racial function tell me that I must help the needy, I of the entire system of can't help but think that I am not government, I can't help but obliged. And you might as well know think the despotism isn't all right here and now that I don't think it's cracked up- highly of this so-called "Indian regime"
which you seem to be so fascinated with. So, to conclude, I must agree that if we
continue to keep up with this Enlightened I will tell you right here Monarch, that the country will go up like and now that I can't stand a firecracker. However, one cannot ignore people who talk and talk that fact that- and talk and say nothing. But, that's beside the point. If I understand you correctly, you are saying that the new Neo-Anarchy factions will be the death of us all. Well, I think censorship is esentially a bad thing for the While I think that the current standards environment, and yet, and of world politics are in general yet... But, that is neither disarray, I must stress that while the here nor there. Just listen rainforests are dying and such, that to me sing: La la la! La. there is a whole world of homeless That is where I draw the line people lying in the gutter. I mean, on the analogy, of- you don't know how often I've seen a
dog, lying there, beaten like a man. You.. You just don't know what it's
like. You can't. You can't know what it's like. So, to conclude, I must
conclude that you are unutterably and completely wrong, but I will continue
arguing, simply because I cannot stand to hear someone like you go Yes, but don't you agree unchallenged. You are a sick, sick man. that the Marxist idiom is A spiteful man. You may think you are that which encompasses our witty, but you are not. You are the society, and thus, increases opposite. You are quite sad, I can the number of proportional tell. You are- wavelength of racist dogma. Thus, I must conclude that you, my friend, are completely absurd, just Well, I think your over exaggerating the listen to what you are saying- signifigance of the Eastern Block. I
mean, this "racist idiom" of which you speak is purely [The ROMAN and EXECUTIVE begin speaking in unison, but they don't notice, as they are too busy arguing.]
ROMAN and EXECUTIVE: without basis in fact. If you take one's opinions at face value, you will find some kind of wonderful despotism in which we all live. Hey, how about a Bar-B-Que?
[Spotlight closes. Curtains close.]
[Open spotlight on JIM3, who is lying down.]
JIM3: So there I was. Buried alive. All I could say to myself was "Fuck" over and over and over and...
[His words slowly fade away into silence.]
[Open curtains to reveal BILL Bar-B-Quing hotdogs, with two dead, skinned bunnies lying by his feet. Very loud sizzling sounds are played.]
JIM2: So, [Spotlight widens to reveal JIM2.]
decided to have that Bar-B-Que after all, eh?
BILL: [Looks at JIM2 strangely.] No. [Turns his attention back to the hotdogs.]
JIM2: Ahhh... Well, I guess this is good-bye then. [JIM2 laughs hysterically at this. He falls and rolls on the floor, and tears stream down his face. Then he notices the dead bunnies, and begins to cry on their behalf.]
JIM2: I was just thinking of their parents.
BILL: I don't think they mind. They're just bunnies.
JIM2: Just bunnies... Just bunnies...
BILL: Here. Get up. Hold these for me for a moment. [Hands him a rolled-up sock.]
JIM2: Eh? What's this?
BILL: A rolled-up sock.
JIM2: Ahhh. Well then... [After a pause, begins whistling, and tossing the sock up and down and catching it.]
BILL: Be careful with that, please. It's not a toy.
[JIM2 continues playing with it. He drops it, and the spotlight closes before it hits the stage. Loud explosion sounds. Spotlight gradually re-opens on the entire CAST, who are lounging about, engaging in small talk with one another. The word "Bar-B-Que" can be distinctly heard at regular intervals. The spotlight very gradually closes, until it centers on the BEARDED MAN. He looks up.]
BEARDED MAN: Who, me?
[Spotlight and curtains close.]
[Each cast member walks to center stage, displays his middle finger to the audience, and says "Fuck you" in a clear, distinct voice.]