X: DEVILS AND THE ANGELS - by Ed Valentine
© March 23, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: MAN WITH A GUITAR by a fire. A BOY just outside the circle of firelight, watching.
BOY: Who you playing fer, Mister?
-
Is it the Devil?
MAN: Nope.
BOY: You sure?
MAN: Yup. Ain’t playin’ for no Devil.
BOY: You playin’ for the angels, then?
MAN: Nope. Ain’t playin’ for no angels neither.
BOY: Who then? Who?
MAN: I play for you, Boy. You got all the devils and the angels inside of you.
BOY: I do?
(MAN PLAYS.)
Yeah, I guess I do.
Play some more.
MAN WITH GUITAR plays as the lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
March 22 Play: ISLAND PLAY
X: ISLAND PLAY - by Ed Valentine
© March 22, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: An island. A palm. 4 Castaways. 4 of them.
1: Who ate the last fish?
2: You did.
1: I didn’t. It was YOU.
3: Me? Not me.
1: Someone did.
(They all turn very slowly to 4. 4 makes desperate sounds. He is mute.)
1: That might as well be a confession.
2: That clinches it.
3: Well then.
(He – 3 – begins to tie a noose in some rope. 1 and 2 hold 4 down.)
3: That’s what comes of cheats and liars.
(3 and 2 put the noose around 4’s neck and take him to the tree. When no one else is looking, 1 discards the white bones of a fish.)
Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
© March 22, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: An island. A palm. 4 Castaways. 4 of them.
1: Who ate the last fish?
2: You did.
1: I didn’t. It was YOU.
3: Me? Not me.
1: Someone did.
(They all turn very slowly to 4. 4 makes desperate sounds. He is mute.)
1: That might as well be a confession.
2: That clinches it.
3: Well then.
(He – 3 – begins to tie a noose in some rope. 1 and 2 hold 4 down.)
3: That’s what comes of cheats and liars.
(3 and 2 put the noose around 4’s neck and take him to the tree. When no one else is looking, 1 discards the white bones of a fish.)
Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
March 21 Play: FIFTEEN CLOWNS
X: FIFTEEN CLOWNS - by Ed Valentine
© March 21, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A circus tent, or a suggestion thereof. 15 Clowns in a semicircle.
ALL: Whodunnit? Whodunnit?
1: One went by poison.
2: One went by hanging.
3: One went in a crash in a teeny tiny car.
4: One was found with a rubber chicken stuffed down his throat.
5: One’s makeup was tainted. It wasn’t an accident.
6: One was fired from a canon. BOOM! Right into a wall.
7: One got a pie in the face. Under the banana crème: chopped glass.
8: They turned a firehose at one. Out spewed acid.
9: The lion got loose.
10: A hatchet in the head.
11: They found him dangling from the trapeze. An aneurysm? I don’t think so.
12: Thumbtacks in his candy.
13: Exploding buttons.
14: A scorpion nest in the shoes. Lotta room in those shoes!
(One left. Lights change on all the dead Clowns. Clown 15 looks nervous.)
THE 14 DEAD CLOWNS: Well? Well well well well,
Well well
Well?
15: There’s no one left. No one left but me.
13: That means you must be the murderer.
15: Maybe I am. But maybe I’m not!
13: I guess time will tell.
15: (Sighs) It’s hard to be a clown these days. You have no idea.
(Doorbell rings.)
OFFSTAGE VOICE: Delivery!
(From the edge of the stage by the curtain, a deliveryman’s HAND emerges carrying flowers and a package. The package smokes: a bomb.)
15: This is it then. My dying day.
Ticking sound up. Suddenly stops. 15 holds his breath, waiting for the explosion.
Sudden blackout.
END OF PLAY.
© March 21, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A circus tent, or a suggestion thereof. 15 Clowns in a semicircle.
ALL: Whodunnit? Whodunnit?
1: One went by poison.
2: One went by hanging.
3: One went in a crash in a teeny tiny car.
4: One was found with a rubber chicken stuffed down his throat.
5: One’s makeup was tainted. It wasn’t an accident.
6: One was fired from a canon. BOOM! Right into a wall.
7: One got a pie in the face. Under the banana crème: chopped glass.
8: They turned a firehose at one. Out spewed acid.
9: The lion got loose.
10: A hatchet in the head.
11: They found him dangling from the trapeze. An aneurysm? I don’t think so.
12: Thumbtacks in his candy.
13: Exploding buttons.
14: A scorpion nest in the shoes. Lotta room in those shoes!
(One left. Lights change on all the dead Clowns. Clown 15 looks nervous.)
THE 14 DEAD CLOWNS: Well? Well well well well,
Well well
Well?
15: There’s no one left. No one left but me.
13: That means you must be the murderer.
15: Maybe I am. But maybe I’m not!
13: I guess time will tell.
15: (Sighs) It’s hard to be a clown these days. You have no idea.
(Doorbell rings.)
OFFSTAGE VOICE: Delivery!
(From the edge of the stage by the curtain, a deliveryman’s HAND emerges carrying flowers and a package. The package smokes: a bomb.)
15: This is it then. My dying day.
Ticking sound up. Suddenly stops. 15 holds his breath, waiting for the explosion.
Sudden blackout.
END OF PLAY.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
March 20 Play: Not Much of a Play
X: Not Much of a Play - by Ed Valentine
© March 20, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A stage with a red curtain.
1: Play?
2: Play.
The curtain opens. An elaborate set. Actors perform an opera of madness. People clap. Curtain closes.
1: That wasn’t much of a play.
2: Not my taste.
1: I want my money back.
2: They’re a fraud, I tell you, a fraud!
(Curtain opens. Set is gone. Empty stage. Ghost light.)
1: Gone?
-
2: We ain’t getting our dough back, Sal. Ain’t getting it back now for sure.
They sit.
Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
© March 20, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A stage with a red curtain.
1: Play?
2: Play.
The curtain opens. An elaborate set. Actors perform an opera of madness. People clap. Curtain closes.
1: That wasn’t much of a play.
2: Not my taste.
1: I want my money back.
2: They’re a fraud, I tell you, a fraud!
(Curtain opens. Set is gone. Empty stage. Ghost light.)
1: Gone?
-
2: We ain’t getting our dough back, Sal. Ain’t getting it back now for sure.
They sit.
Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
March 19: Be Kind to Your Dogs
X: BE KIND TO YOUR DOGS - by Ed Valentine
© March 19, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A knight, in ill-fitting armor. Quivering.
KNIGHT: I hear you. I hear you there.
VOICES: WE ARE HERE.
KNIGHT: Show yourselves!
A VOICE: Can you take it?
KNIGHT: I can take anything.
A VOICE: WELL THEN.
SLAM! A light switches on. An army of dog-headed soldiers are facing him, in shining armor, with spears.
HEAD DOG: Can you take this?
KNIGHT: Yes.
(He can’t.)
KNIGHT: Why?
HEAD DOG: You should’ve been kinder to us, Bucky. You should’ve been kind. All ready?
ALL DOGS: READY SIR.
KNIGHT: (Cowering:) Bad Dog. BAD DOG!
HEAD DOG: Not anymore. FORWARD, MARCH!
They shoulder their weapons and advance. When they encircle him, he screams as he disappears in their circle. As he screams, they savage him and he is gone.
END OF PLAY.
© March 19, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A knight, in ill-fitting armor. Quivering.
KNIGHT: I hear you. I hear you there.
VOICES: WE ARE HERE.
KNIGHT: Show yourselves!
A VOICE: Can you take it?
KNIGHT: I can take anything.
A VOICE: WELL THEN.
SLAM! A light switches on. An army of dog-headed soldiers are facing him, in shining armor, with spears.
HEAD DOG: Can you take this?
KNIGHT: Yes.
(He can’t.)
KNIGHT: Why?
HEAD DOG: You should’ve been kinder to us, Bucky. You should’ve been kind. All ready?
ALL DOGS: READY SIR.
KNIGHT: (Cowering:) Bad Dog. BAD DOG!
HEAD DOG: Not anymore. FORWARD, MARCH!
They shoulder their weapons and advance. When they encircle him, he screams as he disappears in their circle. As he screams, they savage him and he is gone.
END OF PLAY.
March 18 Play: THREE
X: THREE - by Ed Valentine
© March 18, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: RED SQUARE. MOSCOW. 3 in overcoats.
1: You have it?
2: I have it.
3: I have it.
1 & 2: You have it?
3: You want it? Go get it!
He flings it into the river. (Is there a river in Moscow? I’d better find out.)
1 & 2 SCREAM and look over the railing.
2: It’s mine!
(He leaps over the railing.)
Miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii….
1: (To 3:) You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have done that.
3: But that I did.
1 holds his nose, jumps over too.
3: Silly boys.
Leaves. Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
© March 18, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: RED SQUARE. MOSCOW. 3 in overcoats.
1: You have it?
2: I have it.
3: I have it.
1 & 2: You have it?
3: You want it? Go get it!
He flings it into the river. (Is there a river in Moscow? I’d better find out.)
1 & 2 SCREAM and look over the railing.
2: It’s mine!
(He leaps over the railing.)
Miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii….
1: (To 3:) You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have done that.
3: But that I did.
1 holds his nose, jumps over too.
3: Silly boys.
Leaves. Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
March 17 Play: STREETLAMP NIGHT
X: STREETLAMP NIGHT - by Ed Valentine
© March 17, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A Streetlamp. Foggy night. A Streetwalker and a John.
STREETWALKER: I can give you what you long for.
THE JOHN: Sex, you mean?
STREETWALKER: No. Well, yes, but –
THE JOHN: Pleasure.
STREETWALKER: No. More.
THE JOHN: Ecstasy? Fulfillment?
STREETWALKER: More, still.
THE JOHN: A whizz-bang evening?
STREETWALKER: Warm.
THE JOHN: A night I’ll never forget?
STREETWALKER: Warmer.
THE JOHN: What I’ve always wanted, always wanted in the end.
STREETWALKER: Maybe.
THE JOHN: The most intense physical expression I could ever hope to have?
STREETWALKER: Hot now.
THE JOHN: Then give it to me.
STREETWALKER: Give it to you?
THE JOHN: Give it to me. Now.
(She breaks his neck. Bends over his corpse. Drinks his blood.)
STREETWALKER: That’s what you want, Jack. Aren’t you the lucky boy!
(Her mouth is bloody.)
Who’s next?
(Grins out at us. Too many teeth.)
END OF PLAY.
© March 17, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A Streetlamp. Foggy night. A Streetwalker and a John.
STREETWALKER: I can give you what you long for.
THE JOHN: Sex, you mean?
STREETWALKER: No. Well, yes, but –
THE JOHN: Pleasure.
STREETWALKER: No. More.
THE JOHN: Ecstasy? Fulfillment?
STREETWALKER: More, still.
THE JOHN: A whizz-bang evening?
STREETWALKER: Warm.
THE JOHN: A night I’ll never forget?
STREETWALKER: Warmer.
THE JOHN: What I’ve always wanted, always wanted in the end.
STREETWALKER: Maybe.
THE JOHN: The most intense physical expression I could ever hope to have?
STREETWALKER: Hot now.
THE JOHN: Then give it to me.
STREETWALKER: Give it to you?
THE JOHN: Give it to me. Now.
(She breaks his neck. Bends over his corpse. Drinks his blood.)
STREETWALKER: That’s what you want, Jack. Aren’t you the lucky boy!
(Her mouth is bloody.)
Who’s next?
(Grins out at us. Too many teeth.)
END OF PLAY.
March 16 Play: BULLFIGHT
X: BULLFIGHT - by Ed Valentine
© March 16, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A BULL RING.
MATADOR:
I’m the Matador.
With my Spanish garters,
And my Spanish bows.
And look! My castanets.
And my sequins
And my derring-do.
When I enter the ring
I bring
My tarantella, my fandango, and my paso dobles.
I approach on tippy toe,
Then back away
I say
And forward march again.
I am the matador, always victorious.
VOICE OF THE BULL (from a tunnel):
Not. Always.
(The BULL emerges from a tunnel. Snorts.)
BULL:
Not always.
I am the bull
With burning eyes
And a hide whipped and pierced.
Christ would be ashamed.
My flanks steam
And my eyes roll.
MATADOR:
I am the Matador.
BULL:
I am the Bull.
MATADOR:
I am the Matador.
BULL:
I am the Bull.
MATADOR:
I am the Matador.
BULL:
And one of us will pierce the other.
MATADOR:
One of us will win.
(They strike poses.)
Ole!
(They lunge. Lights out before they connect.)
LIGHTS FADE. END OF PLAY.
© March 16, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A BULL RING.
MATADOR:
I’m the Matador.
With my Spanish garters,
And my Spanish bows.
And look! My castanets.
And my sequins
And my derring-do.
When I enter the ring
I bring
My tarantella, my fandango, and my paso dobles.
I approach on tippy toe,
Then back away
I say
And forward march again.
I am the matador, always victorious.
VOICE OF THE BULL (from a tunnel):
Not. Always.
(The BULL emerges from a tunnel. Snorts.)
BULL:
Not always.
I am the bull
With burning eyes
And a hide whipped and pierced.
Christ would be ashamed.
My flanks steam
And my eyes roll.
MATADOR:
I am the Matador.
BULL:
I am the Bull.
MATADOR:
I am the Matador.
BULL:
I am the Bull.
MATADOR:
I am the Matador.
BULL:
And one of us will pierce the other.
MATADOR:
One of us will win.
(They strike poses.)
Ole!
(They lunge. Lights out before they connect.)
LIGHTS FADE. END OF PLAY.
March 15 Play: DON'T LOOK BACK
X: DON’T LOOK BACK - by Ed Valentine
© March 15, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A FAMILY driving. Driving from the storm that’s chasing them, with all their belongings hastily strapped to the car.
MOM: It’s followed us. Do you hear me? It’s followed us.
1: From Maine to Mississippi.
2: From Florida to Georgia.
3: From California to Kentucky.
4: And back again. Isn’t that right, Daddy? I say, isn’t that right?
-
DAD: Don’t look back, kids.
Don’t look back.
We gotta outrace it sometime, kids.
Don’t we?
-
Don’t we.
-
We just drive on.
That’s all we can do.
We just drive on.
(The storm draws nearer.)
LIGHTS FADE. END OF PLAY.
© March 15, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A FAMILY driving. Driving from the storm that’s chasing them, with all their belongings hastily strapped to the car.
MOM: It’s followed us. Do you hear me? It’s followed us.
1: From Maine to Mississippi.
2: From Florida to Georgia.
3: From California to Kentucky.
4: And back again. Isn’t that right, Daddy? I say, isn’t that right?
-
DAD: Don’t look back, kids.
Don’t look back.
We gotta outrace it sometime, kids.
Don’t we?
-
Don’t we.
-
We just drive on.
That’s all we can do.
We just drive on.
(The storm draws nearer.)
LIGHTS FADE. END OF PLAY.
March 14 Play: MEN ON THE MOON
X: MEN ON THE MOON - by Ed Valentine
© March 14, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: 2 ASTRONAUTS on the Moon.
1: One small step for man. One giant leap for –
(A MOONMAN appears.)
MOONMAN: Go home! We don’t want you here!
1: Should we gas him?
2: How do you know it’s a him?
1: That hardly seems relevant right now.
MOONMAN: I said, GO HOME! We don’t want your kind. You are not welcome. Not welcome!
-
1: I say we gas ‘em.
2: Wait.
1: What?
2: Wait! She’s beautiful!
(2 and MOONMAN look at each other. 2 produces a blooming rose in a long glass tube.)
1: You brought roses?
2: I was going to plant them here.
1: Well, this is disgusting! I’m outta here.
(1 gets in his spaceship and blasts off.)
MOONMAN: I’m sorry about your friend. Not for my sake, for yours.
2: Aw, that’s ok. I’m not sorry. Not sorry at all.
MOONMAN: But you won’t be lonely. Wait till you meet my family!
2: Your family?
MOONMAN: They’re going to find you just delicious. Delicious.
(MANY OTHER ALIENS come out of nowhere, thousands of them, out of craters and caves and from under the moonsoil and everywhere. All sorts of places. They hold eating utensils.)
2: Wait. Wait. Wait.
(They advance.)
BLACKOUT. END OF PLAY.
© March 14, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: 2 ASTRONAUTS on the Moon.
1: One small step for man. One giant leap for –
(A MOONMAN appears.)
MOONMAN: Go home! We don’t want you here!
1: Should we gas him?
2: How do you know it’s a him?
1: That hardly seems relevant right now.
MOONMAN: I said, GO HOME! We don’t want your kind. You are not welcome. Not welcome!
-
1: I say we gas ‘em.
2: Wait.
1: What?
2: Wait! She’s beautiful!
(2 and MOONMAN look at each other. 2 produces a blooming rose in a long glass tube.)
1: You brought roses?
2: I was going to plant them here.
1: Well, this is disgusting! I’m outta here.
(1 gets in his spaceship and blasts off.)
MOONMAN: I’m sorry about your friend. Not for my sake, for yours.
2: Aw, that’s ok. I’m not sorry. Not sorry at all.
MOONMAN: But you won’t be lonely. Wait till you meet my family!
2: Your family?
MOONMAN: They’re going to find you just delicious. Delicious.
(MANY OTHER ALIENS come out of nowhere, thousands of them, out of craters and caves and from under the moonsoil and everywhere. All sorts of places. They hold eating utensils.)
2: Wait. Wait. Wait.
(They advance.)
BLACKOUT. END OF PLAY.
March 13 Play: THE PRICE OF NEEDLES
X: THE PRICE OF NEEDLES - by Ed Valentine
© March 13, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: 2 Pioneer Women. Sitting across from each other in rocking chairs. At some distance. They are sewing. They are in one enormous dress – like two dresses connected at the hem, so that the dress spans the expanse between them.
1: The price of needles has gone up.
2: What?
1: I said, the price of needles has gone up.
2: Oh. Yes, the weasels are nice. Yes, I put them in the coop.
1: You’re useless. And the price of needles is too dear.
2: That is clear, yes.
1: Between the cost of needles and thimbles and thread, I don’t know what we’ll do. Soon we’ll be eating the slop from the pigs. And then where will we be?
2: I’m hungry. Hungry!
1: Keep sewing, Sister. Sun’s almost down.
2: You loved a rodeo clown?
1: I said, KEEP SEWING.
2: You talk too loud.
Sun goes down. They sew. Lights out.
BLACKOUT.
© March 13, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: 2 Pioneer Women. Sitting across from each other in rocking chairs. At some distance. They are sewing. They are in one enormous dress – like two dresses connected at the hem, so that the dress spans the expanse between them.
1: The price of needles has gone up.
2: What?
1: I said, the price of needles has gone up.
2: Oh. Yes, the weasels are nice. Yes, I put them in the coop.
1: You’re useless. And the price of needles is too dear.
2: That is clear, yes.
1: Between the cost of needles and thimbles and thread, I don’t know what we’ll do. Soon we’ll be eating the slop from the pigs. And then where will we be?
2: I’m hungry. Hungry!
1: Keep sewing, Sister. Sun’s almost down.
2: You loved a rodeo clown?
1: I said, KEEP SEWING.
2: You talk too loud.
Sun goes down. They sew. Lights out.
BLACKOUT.
March 12 Play: ANIMAL
X: ANIMAL - by Ed Valentine
© March 12, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A giant animal carrier. Animal eyes inside it. Large. 2 kids.
1: Mom won’t let you keep him.
2: We’ll see about that.
1: How you gonna get her to let you?
(ANIMAL snorts.)
2: Somehow I don’t think she’ll have much choice.
1: I like it. I like how you think.
(The ANIMAL snarls and rattles in the cage. The children look on. They smile.)
END OF PLAY.
© March 12, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A giant animal carrier. Animal eyes inside it. Large. 2 kids.
1: Mom won’t let you keep him.
2: We’ll see about that.
1: How you gonna get her to let you?
(ANIMAL snorts.)
2: Somehow I don’t think she’ll have much choice.
1: I like it. I like how you think.
(The ANIMAL snarls and rattles in the cage. The children look on. They smile.)
END OF PLAY.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
March 4 Play: DANGEROUS FUGU
63: DANGEROUS FUGU - by Ed Valentine
© March 4, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: The Japanese businessmen from the fugu play. The fish is even more dessicated. Now a 2nd businessman has keeled over, dead. (That makes two of them.)
A BUSINESSMAN: We’re still waiting. We’re still waiting for you. The fish is stinkier, and we didn’t think that was even possible. We’re reduced to eating it, though, and it’d dangerous. Dangerous fugu.
ANOTHER BUSINESSMAN: Won’t you please let us out? We beg of you!
A THIRD BUSINESSMAN: We are begging. BEGGING!
-
FIRST BUSINESSMAN: Ah, well. Back to the fugu.
They raises their forks to eat big forkfuls of fish. As the forks get to their lips…
BLACKOUT.
END OF PLAY.
© March 4, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: The Japanese businessmen from the fugu play. The fish is even more dessicated. Now a 2nd businessman has keeled over, dead. (That makes two of them.)
A BUSINESSMAN: We’re still waiting. We’re still waiting for you. The fish is stinkier, and we didn’t think that was even possible. We’re reduced to eating it, though, and it’d dangerous. Dangerous fugu.
ANOTHER BUSINESSMAN: Won’t you please let us out? We beg of you!
A THIRD BUSINESSMAN: We are begging. BEGGING!
-
FIRST BUSINESSMAN: Ah, well. Back to the fugu.
They raises their forks to eat big forkfuls of fish. As the forks get to their lips…
BLACKOUT.
END OF PLAY.
March 3 Play: THE MIRROR AT THE ROOSEVELT HOTEL
62: THE MIRROR AT THE ROOSEVELT HOTEL - by Ed Valentine
© March 3, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: Something big, covered with a sheet. A WORKMAN and a MAN.
MAN: So that’s it?
WORKMAN: That’s what they say.
MAN: I was wondering where it was. This whole time, I’ve wandered around the hotel, wondering where it was. And here it is.
WORKMAN: ‘swhat I said.
MAN: And now you’re taking it away.
WORKMAN: Too many people only came here to see it. They hoped to get a look at her, figured they’d get a peek.
MAN: Right.
WORKMAN: Who can blame them, right? I mean, if I could get a peek at her I would. If I could get a poke at her, I would, you know what I mean?
MAN: I’m not here for that.
WORKMAN: Riiight. Anyway, I ain’t superstitious or anything. I think it’s a waste of time to get rid of it, but hey if it pays, it pays, right?
MAN: I just always wanted to see her. I always wished I could see her.
WORKMAN: Well give it a try, Mister!
(He whips the cloth off the object: it’s a big mirror with an ornate gilt frame.)
MAN: Oh.
WORKMAN: See? Just a mirror. A big mirror. But just a mirror. Disappointed, huh?
-
Well, they’re all disappointed.
MAN: I thought maybe she’d be there.
(WORKMAN covers the mirror with the sheet again.)
WORKMAN: I get it. I don’t believe in it, or nothing, but I get it. After hearing that she appears in the mirror, it’s hard to be happy when all you get is yourself. Hey, I gotta take a leak. Don’t touch anything.
MAN: I won’t.
WORKMAN leaves.
From far away: an echo of music from the 50’s, and a familiar voice singing a song.
Lights are strange.
MAN looks around.
Hesitates.
Descides: whips the sheet off.
MARILYN MONROE is in the mirror, ghostly, dancing in slow motion.
Perhaps she is in the dress from “The Seven Year Itch” and it’s billowing up around her.
Or perhaps another famous dress.
She beckons.
The MAN goes through the mirror.
MARILYN MONROE: I thought you’d never come, baby.
She kisses him. Music up: almost unbearable. Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
© March 3, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: Something big, covered with a sheet. A WORKMAN and a MAN.
MAN: So that’s it?
WORKMAN: That’s what they say.
MAN: I was wondering where it was. This whole time, I’ve wandered around the hotel, wondering where it was. And here it is.
WORKMAN: ‘swhat I said.
MAN: And now you’re taking it away.
WORKMAN: Too many people only came here to see it. They hoped to get a look at her, figured they’d get a peek.
MAN: Right.
WORKMAN: Who can blame them, right? I mean, if I could get a peek at her I would. If I could get a poke at her, I would, you know what I mean?
MAN: I’m not here for that.
WORKMAN: Riiight. Anyway, I ain’t superstitious or anything. I think it’s a waste of time to get rid of it, but hey if it pays, it pays, right?
MAN: I just always wanted to see her. I always wished I could see her.
WORKMAN: Well give it a try, Mister!
(He whips the cloth off the object: it’s a big mirror with an ornate gilt frame.)
MAN: Oh.
WORKMAN: See? Just a mirror. A big mirror. But just a mirror. Disappointed, huh?
-
Well, they’re all disappointed.
MAN: I thought maybe she’d be there.
(WORKMAN covers the mirror with the sheet again.)
WORKMAN: I get it. I don’t believe in it, or nothing, but I get it. After hearing that she appears in the mirror, it’s hard to be happy when all you get is yourself. Hey, I gotta take a leak. Don’t touch anything.
MAN: I won’t.
WORKMAN leaves.
From far away: an echo of music from the 50’s, and a familiar voice singing a song.
Lights are strange.
MAN looks around.
Hesitates.
Descides: whips the sheet off.
MARILYN MONROE is in the mirror, ghostly, dancing in slow motion.
Perhaps she is in the dress from “The Seven Year Itch” and it’s billowing up around her.
Or perhaps another famous dress.
She beckons.
The MAN goes through the mirror.
MARILYN MONROE: I thought you’d never come, baby.
She kisses him. Music up: almost unbearable. Lights fade.
END OF PLAY.
March 2 Play: NECROMANCE
61: NECROMANCE - by Ed Valentine
© March 2, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A WOMAN alone onstage.
WOMAN:
This is my body.
(She opens her body from the center. It opens like a church triptych. Inside, the woman is flayed open like an anatomical subject, like a dissected frog in biology class.
Her organs are visible. Perhaps in realistic texture and wet detail.
She regards her insides, almost scientifically. Almost. This cannot – and does not – hold.)
WOMAN (Continued):
This is my body, which will be given up for you.
This is my heart, which is still there, still beating,
A bird against a cage.
These are the ribs, which ache at the joints and heave, taking in, letting out, burning air. Taking in, letting out. Taking in, letting out. I took you in, I let you out. I took you in I let you out. Or perhaps, then, you took me.
-
This is my esophagus, working in tandem with my vocal cords to make such light sounds to woo you, and such guttural sounds to bed you – it might have been a barnyard! – and such broken sound to keep you. I should have saved my breath.
-
This is my spleen. If I could hold the bile in my hand, I would’ve flung the stinging mess at you.
-
This is my stomach, which seizes up like a fetus at the thought of you. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Taking you in. Letting you out. Taking you in. Letting you out.
-
And this is my womb. Empty as the Hall of Mirrors now. You were there, or almost there once. And now you’re gone.
Taking you in. Letting you out.
Taking you in. Letting you out.
Taking you in. Letting you out.
This is my body, which was given up for you.
(She closes her body. Stands. Faces out, unblinking. Lights fade.)
END OF PLAY.
© March 2, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A WOMAN alone onstage.
WOMAN:
This is my body.
(She opens her body from the center. It opens like a church triptych. Inside, the woman is flayed open like an anatomical subject, like a dissected frog in biology class.
Her organs are visible. Perhaps in realistic texture and wet detail.
She regards her insides, almost scientifically. Almost. This cannot – and does not – hold.)
WOMAN (Continued):
This is my body, which will be given up for you.
This is my heart, which is still there, still beating,
A bird against a cage.
These are the ribs, which ache at the joints and heave, taking in, letting out, burning air. Taking in, letting out. Taking in, letting out. I took you in, I let you out. I took you in I let you out. Or perhaps, then, you took me.
-
This is my esophagus, working in tandem with my vocal cords to make such light sounds to woo you, and such guttural sounds to bed you – it might have been a barnyard! – and such broken sound to keep you. I should have saved my breath.
-
This is my spleen. If I could hold the bile in my hand, I would’ve flung the stinging mess at you.
-
This is my stomach, which seizes up like a fetus at the thought of you. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Taking you in. Letting you out. Taking you in. Letting you out.
-
And this is my womb. Empty as the Hall of Mirrors now. You were there, or almost there once. And now you’re gone.
Taking you in. Letting you out.
Taking you in. Letting you out.
Taking you in. Letting you out.
This is my body, which was given up for you.
(She closes her body. Stands. Faces out, unblinking. Lights fade.)
END OF PLAY.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Happy March!
Well, I've been writing the plays... longhand as always. Just haven't been typing them in. (I blame the Olympics.) So I have a backlog, which I hope to (slowly) catch up on over the week.
In the meantime, I'm posting today's just to keep up to date. Please check back to see the last week's plays - I should have the rest of them posted in the next few days. Today marks the 60th short play I've written for 2010. And the beginning of the 3rd month of Daily Ed. Enjoy!
In the meantime, I'm posting today's just to keep up to date. Please check back to see the last week's plays - I should have the rest of them posted in the next few days. Today marks the 60th short play I've written for 2010. And the beginning of the 3rd month of Daily Ed. Enjoy!
March 1 Play: SANDMAN
60: SANDMAN - by Ed Valentine
© March 1, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A CHILD in a bed. Darkness around.
CHILD: Who's there?
-
Someone's there. I hear you breathing.
-
You can't fool me.
VOICE: No.
CHILD: So you are there.
-
That wasn't a question.
VOICE: No.
CHILD: And?
VOICE: I'm the Sandman.
CHILD: The Sandman.
VOICE: Come to take away your day.
CHILD: Oh.
VOICE: Don't be afraid.
CHILD: Now why would I be afraid.
VOICE: -
CHILD: Show yourself.
(SANDMAN steps into the light. Frightening.)
SANDMAN: -
CHILD: Still not frightened.
SANDMAN: You don't recognize me?
-
That wasn't a question.
Every night I sprinkle sand in your eyes and you forget.
CHILD: Forget what?
SANDMAN: Everything. Everything sad.
How you hurt your finger in the car.
CHILD: I did, I did!
SANDMAN: And how you got scared when you lost your mother in the market for a moment.
CHILD: You're right?
SANDMAN: And how you got scared when you thought for a moment that you might not always have your parents with you.
CHILD: How did you know?
SANDMAN: I know things.
CHILD: Okay.
SANDMAN: So - prepared to forget?
CHILD: Yes.
-
Wait! Just - wait.
-
What if I want to remember?
Just a bit of it?
What if I want to remember?
SANDMAN: Child, don't ask that.
If you ask that, then you are ready to stop forgetting.
CHILD: Oh.
(Sandman puts away the bag of sand, starts to leave.)
CHILD: Wait. Just. Can you just forget I asked?
SANDMAN: Forgetting's not my forte. I'm the one who can't forget.
CHILD: But I want to. Forget. For just a little longer.
SANDMAN: (looks around:)
Well. Yes, Child. Just this once.
Ready?
CHILD: Ready.
SANDMAN: Goodnight then.
CHILD: Goodnight.
(Sandman sprinkles glittering sand over the child, who reacts as if stung as the memories leave. Then falls back on the pillow, peaceful. Sandman shakes his head. Sand falls all over the stage. Lights fade.)
END OF PLAY.
© March 1, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A CHILD in a bed. Darkness around.
CHILD: Who's there?
-
Someone's there. I hear you breathing.
-
You can't fool me.
VOICE: No.
CHILD: So you are there.
-
That wasn't a question.
VOICE: No.
CHILD: And?
VOICE: I'm the Sandman.
CHILD: The Sandman.
VOICE: Come to take away your day.
CHILD: Oh.
VOICE: Don't be afraid.
CHILD: Now why would I be afraid.
VOICE: -
CHILD: Show yourself.
(SANDMAN steps into the light. Frightening.)
SANDMAN: -
CHILD: Still not frightened.
SANDMAN: You don't recognize me?
-
That wasn't a question.
Every night I sprinkle sand in your eyes and you forget.
CHILD: Forget what?
SANDMAN: Everything. Everything sad.
How you hurt your finger in the car.
CHILD: I did, I did!
SANDMAN: And how you got scared when you lost your mother in the market for a moment.
CHILD: You're right?
SANDMAN: And how you got scared when you thought for a moment that you might not always have your parents with you.
CHILD: How did you know?
SANDMAN: I know things.
CHILD: Okay.
SANDMAN: So - prepared to forget?
CHILD: Yes.
-
Wait! Just - wait.
-
What if I want to remember?
Just a bit of it?
What if I want to remember?
SANDMAN: Child, don't ask that.
If you ask that, then you are ready to stop forgetting.
CHILD: Oh.
(Sandman puts away the bag of sand, starts to leave.)
CHILD: Wait. Just. Can you just forget I asked?
SANDMAN: Forgetting's not my forte. I'm the one who can't forget.
CHILD: But I want to. Forget. For just a little longer.
SANDMAN: (looks around:)
Well. Yes, Child. Just this once.
Ready?
CHILD: Ready.
SANDMAN: Goodnight then.
CHILD: Goodnight.
(Sandman sprinkles glittering sand over the child, who reacts as if stung as the memories leave. Then falls back on the pillow, peaceful. Sandman shakes his head. Sand falls all over the stage. Lights fade.)
END OF PLAY.
February 28 Play: LAST NIGHT OF THE OLYMPICS
59: LAST NIGHT OF THE OLYMPICS - by Ed Valentine
© February 28, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: An empty stadium. 2 watching.
1: Was that –
2: No. He’ll be here soon.
1: Soon?
2: Yes, soon.
1: How do you know this?
2: You live long enough. You wait long enough, you’ll see him.
1: Are you sure?
2: Yes.
1: Are you sure you’re sure?
2: Shh.
1: What?
2: Shh?
(The sound of scraping. Skates on ice.)
-
1: Is that -
2: Just listen. Listen and watch.
(A ghostly SKATER comes by, in a ghostly light. Determined panting. Old-fashioned clothing. Skates off.)
2: He’s still searching for a medal.
1: Poor man. Poor man!
2: I don’t know. I don’t know he would’ve wanted to be anything else. Ever.
(They get up.)
1: Four years then?
2: Yes. See you in four years.
(They go separate ways. 1 lingers behind 2’s exit for just a moment. Looks at the empty ice. Exits. Lights snap out.)
END OF PLAY.
© February 28, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: An empty stadium. 2 watching.
1: Was that –
2: No. He’ll be here soon.
1: Soon?
2: Yes, soon.
1: How do you know this?
2: You live long enough. You wait long enough, you’ll see him.
1: Are you sure?
2: Yes.
1: Are you sure you’re sure?
2: Shh.
1: What?
2: Shh?
(The sound of scraping. Skates on ice.)
-
1: Is that -
2: Just listen. Listen and watch.
(A ghostly SKATER comes by, in a ghostly light. Determined panting. Old-fashioned clothing. Skates off.)
2: He’s still searching for a medal.
1: Poor man. Poor man!
2: I don’t know. I don’t know he would’ve wanted to be anything else. Ever.
(They get up.)
1: Four years then?
2: Yes. See you in four years.
(They go separate ways. 1 lingers behind 2’s exit for just a moment. Looks at the empty ice. Exits. Lights snap out.)
END OF PLAY.
February 22 Play: SAFE HOUSE
53: SAFE HOUSE - by Ed Valentine
© February 22, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A MOTHER. A FATHER. Behind them, a house.
Perhaps the Father enters. Perhaps the Mother stands, smoking.
MOTHER: Don’t go in there.
FATHER: In there?
MOTHER: I said don’t.
FATHER: It’s my house. It’s my own goddamned house.
(Stands to block him.)
MOTHER: You’ll only regret it.
FATHER: Are the children safe?
MOTHER:
-
They are now.
(Through the window, flames become visible.
Smoke.
Father falls to his knees.
Sirens.
Lights out.)
END OF PLAY.
© February 22, 2010 * ed@edvalentine.com
LIGHTS UP: A MOTHER. A FATHER. Behind them, a house.
Perhaps the Father enters. Perhaps the Mother stands, smoking.
MOTHER: Don’t go in there.
FATHER: In there?
MOTHER: I said don’t.
FATHER: It’s my house. It’s my own goddamned house.
(Stands to block him.)
MOTHER: You’ll only regret it.
FATHER: Are the children safe?
MOTHER:
-
They are now.
(Through the window, flames become visible.
Smoke.
Father falls to his knees.
Sirens.
Lights out.)
END OF PLAY.
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