MISSING, a dark comedy...

This evening, we had a reading on the South Coast Rep's Nicholas Studio stage. We did ten pieces, including my short play, Missing. It went well. A lot of laughs, which is what I intended. I got my actors, Michelle Margolis and Joe Baufar, to sign my program.

MISSING

by

Dale Andersen

MISSING - a dark, quirky comedy

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Cast of Characters

Louise.........Female, early thirties, scruffy
Martin..................Male, late thirties, scruffy

(A December morning. Downtown Fargo. Cold &
crisp. We're in the parking lot of a blown-up 7-Eleven.
Yellow "Police Line - Keep Out" tape. Inside the police
tape, LOUISE in grubby clothes, a Christmas stocking
cap slightly askew on her head. Shes picking up bits of
debris, examining each bit, then depositing same in a
garbage bag. A pouch hangs from her belt. She hums
Jingle Bells. Her humming is slow and somber. MARTIN
enters, stops at the tape, sees her, looks surprised. She
senses him. She stops, straightens up, turns)

LOUISE:

Well well. Marty Dean.

MARTIN:

Louise, you're alive! Thank God you're alive.

LOUISE:

Course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?

MARTIN:

Terrible thing. Terrible. You should consider yourself very, very lucky.

LOUISE:

Yup. That's me. Lucky Louise. Lucky Louise, despite I never won a MegaBucks jackpot. Never even won a piddly little Daily Scratcher.

MARTIN:

I meant you're lucky to be.

LOUISE:

I know what you meant, Marty.

MARTIN:

Eyewitness News said it was a first. First 7-Eleven explosion ever in Fargo. First 7-Eleven explosion anywhere in North Dakota for that matter.

LOUISE:

Give you something else that'll be a first. This'll be the first Christmas for me without a job.

MARTIN:

Abdul's not giving you your job back?

LOUISE:

It only blew up two days ago. Seeing as how we got ten days till Christmas, I just don't see the store standing tall in time for a visit from Santa.

MARTIN:

But he did promise you your job back.

LOUISE:

Hasn't been discussed, Marty.

MARTIN:

That's wrong. That is very wrong. He shouldda reassured you right away. You're a key person, valued employee. You know where all the stuff is.

LOUISE:

Which is really useful. What with all the stuff scattered in the parking lot.

MARTIN:

Speaking of that. I saw on Eyewitness News where Abdul said he was looking for volunteers to help clean up.

LOUISE:

So?

MARTIN:

So here I am. Volunteering. You know what the commercial says. Like a good neighbor.

LOUISE:

Well, neighbor, you're a day late and a dollar short. Abdul's cleanup was yesterday.

MARTIN:

Yesterday? So how come you still got a mess?

LOUISE:

We got a mess 'cause not many neighbors showed up.

MARTIN:

How could that be? Abdul's got thousands of customers.

LOUISE:

Hundreds, not thousands. Stop exaggerating. Okay. Telling you this 'cause you're a regular. Some people don't like Abdul 'cause of his name.

MARTIN:

I like it. His name, I mean.

LOUISE:

Seems you're in the minority. Some people connect Abdul to the World Trade Center. One lady said, "How do we know he wasn't making bombs back there? Maybe the explosion was a bomb that went off by accident."

MARTIN:

That's ridiculous! He wasn't making bombs. Was he?

LOUISE:

'Course not. It's people assuming stuff about Abdul. Assuming, because of his name, he's got crazy ideas.

MARTIN:

Where is he anyway?

LOUISE:

Missing.

MARTIN:

You mean like dead?

LOUISE:

I mean like missing. He came here just after, looked around, said he needed help. Then he skedaddled. Personally, I think he's lying low till the dust clears.

MARTIN:

That's desertion. Leaving the scene of. Or something.

LOUISE:

Don't be so quick to throw stones. If your RV blew up and set cars on fire or knocked down a power line, wouldn't you make yourself scarce?

MARTIN:

Guess I would.

LOUISE:

Trust cops to be cops. Abdul's doing the right thing. You can always come in later, say you had a concussion and wandered in the woods till your memory came back.

MARTIN:

Well, anyway, glad nothing bad happened to you.

(She makes like she's getting ready to go back to work picking up debris. He doesn't move)

LOUISE:

Look, I gotta do some stuff now.

MARTIN:

Not stopping you.

LOUISE:

I don't like if you're just gonna stare.

MARTIN:

Don't like me staring? So what about all those 2 ams? Saying I shouldda stayed away?

LOUISE:

Now don't get upset.

MARTIN:

Don't get upset. I was there for you 'cause I thought you were lonely. Running a 7-Eleven in the wee hours is lonely work. Thought you'd appreciate the company.

(She starts picking up debris)

LOUISE:

Fact is, you were doing it for hot dogs. You wake up with the 1 am munchies. Show up at my counter at 2. Customer walks in, I turn my back, another hot dog's missing. With you, it's all about hot dogs.

MARTIN:

Got me wrong. You think everyone works an angle.

LOUISE:

Don't know anyone else's angle, but I sure know yours.

MARTIN:

More to life than hot dogs, Louise. I been a lot of places, seen a lot of stuff. One thing I know. Karma's gonna get you. Bad thoughts about other people will rebound unto yourself. That's straight outta Buddha.

LOUISE:

Don't curse me, Marty. Don't like being cursed.

MARTIN:

(Sees her slip an object into her pouch)
What was that you just did?

LOUISE:

What?

MARTIN:

You picked up something, slipped it into her pouch.

LOUISE:

No.

MARTIN:

I saw you.

LOUISE:

You're imagining things.

MARTIN:

I'm telling you, I saw you.

LOUISE:

(Holds pouch behind her back)
Not saying this again. There's nothing in the bag.

MARTIN:

(Ducks under police tape, approaches her)
Well. Then I guess you won't mind holding it out front, turning it upside down and shaking it out.

LOUISE:

Why are you pushing this, Marty?

MARTIN:

(Trying to see behind her)
I think I got you pegged.

LOUISE:

(Backs away, blocks his view)
Pegged? What's pegged?

MARTIN:

Way I see it is, you want to work out here by yourself cause there's something of value here. See, when you try to fool Ole Marty, you open a big can of corn.

LOUISE:

Marty, I thought we were friends.

MARTIN:

Starting to wonder what you mean by friends. Yessiree, there's something of value here. I can smell it.

LOUISE:

Marty, you don't talk to a friend like that.

MARTIN:

Friend wouldn't tell a friend to stop staring.

LOUISE:

You're. You're right.

MARTIN:

Friend wouldn't begrudge a friend a few hot dogs.

LOUISE:

You're right. You're right again.

MARTIN:

So what is it? Cash money? Bundle of twenties?

LOUISE:

Marty. It's not what you think.

MARTIN:

Cash. Gotta be cash. Safe blew up. Big roll of Franklins missing in action. Hundred dollar bills.

LOUISE:

Stop it, Marty.

MARTIN:

All I want's half.

LOUISE:

Half?!?

MARTIN:

Fair's fair. Or I might have to report it.

LOUISE:

Friends don't threaten friends.

MARTIN:

Friends don't exclude friends. Friends don't cut friends out. Friends share the wealth.

LOUISE:

You don't even know what this is about.

MARTIN:

I think I do. On the one hand, there's this mysterious explosion. Maybe a threat to the planet. And then there's your suspicious post-explosion activity. Maybe it's just an unfortunate event. Maybe not. But either way, here you are, Abdul's Girl Friday. And you're not here for your health. You know something. See, I can put B and C together and get D. D as in deal. So now, friend, what's the deal?

LOUISE:

The deal is, you are crazy! You're nuts.

MARTIN:

Calling me nuts. Look at you. Trying to rip Abdul off. You don't want him knowing. Nosirree. You don't want me telling the Feds and them talking to Abdul. Haven't you been reading the paper? Those Muslims'll cut your head off for looking at them crosseyed.

LOUISE:

You got it all wrong.

MARTIN:

Just give me half. And my lips are sealed.

LOUISE:

So what if it's half of nothing?

MARTIN:

Come on. You're talking to a friend.

LOUISE:

You know what? All those hot dogs gone to your brain.

MARTIN:

Bottom line is, I'm not going away. Now give.

LOUISE:

(Silence. Finally...)
Okay. All right. You win.

MARTIN:

Hot dog! Now you're talking.

(LOUISE squats down, MARTIN squats down)

LOUISE:

(Holds up unopened pouch)
I want your word this an absolute secret.

MARTIN:

Unlike some people I could name, my word is gold.

LOUISE:

You ready?

MARTIN:

Let her rip.
(She takes the pouch and empties it. A plop sound is heard. MARTIN springs up)
Jiminy Crickets!
(He turns his back, looks over his shoulder)
Jiminy Holy Cow Crickets!
(Looks again. Stamps his foot)
That's a hand! That's a human hand you got there!

LOUISE:

Said it wasn't what you thought.

MARTIN:

Yeah but. But what about the cash? Where's my half?

LOUISE:

There is no cash.
(Puts hand back in pouch. Stands)
Remember you promised. You're keeping this a secret.

MARTIN:

What about the cops? What if they come around?

LOUISE:

Why would they talk to you?

MARTIN:

Just say they did. What do I say?

LOUISE:

Say you were asleep. Which is true most of the time.

MARTIN:

So uh. So is it? Is that a real hand?

LOUISE:

Think I go around planting fake hands?

MARTIN:

I just meant, if it's a real hand, I'd think you'd be scared.

LOUISE:

Think I'm not scared?

MARTIN:

I don't like seeing you scared. You better not be scared. You're not scared. Are you?

(A scared look briefly crosses her face)

LOUISE:

Thing is, stuff's been going on. Abdul's had a lot on his mind lately.

MARTIN:

I do admit noticing him in the store less often.

LOUISE:

He's seeing a Mexican girl.

MARTIN:

Oh, you mean the one who.

LOUISE:

Yeah, her. She's Pentecostal. He's serious about her. He's been going to prayer meetings.

MARTIN:

You know what they say. God works in mysterious ways.

LOUISE:

Yeah, mysterious. Real mysterious.

(Silence. They stare at the ground. Then...)

LOUISE:

Well, shoot, guess I better ditch this hand someplace.

MARTIN:

You gonna throw it away?

LOUISE:

That's the plan, Stan.

MARTIN:

Can I have it?

LOUISE:

What are you going to do with it?

MARTIN:

Dry it. Wear it off my belt.

LOUISE:

It was Abdul's uncle's hand. You cant wear his uncle's hand off your belt.

MARTIN:

His uncle? The old guy with the snuff and the tin can and the shawl? I thought he went back to.

LOUISE:

He kind of did.

MARTIN:

Yeah?

LOUISE:

And he kind of didn't.

MARTIN:

Yeah?

LOUISE:

Know how you always mean to finish a job? You say Tomorrow, but when tomorrow comes, the pile's even higher? It was around six>. Uncle Abdulla was sitting by the magazines spitting tobacco into a can. It was Friday 'cause the Mexicans were cashing paychecks and buying beer. I saw Uncle Abdulla wasn't moving but I couldn't do anything because I was alone and the line was out the door. Abdul never works Fridays and Alice went home sick. Anyway, Abdul comes in at midnight to count cash and I tell him his uncle hasn't moved in four hours. So he puts a hand in front of the old guy's mouth, shakes his head and drags him into the freezer and says, "I'll take care of it tomorrow."

MARTIN:

What if he wasn't dead?

LOUISE:

We were pretty sure he was. Next day was Saturday which was the opening of trout season. All these guys were in and out buying beer and ice. The beer and ice trucks were coming and going. So Abdul just wraps uncle in plastic and pushes him behind the ice cream.

MARTIN:

You had a dead body behind the ice cream?!?

LOUISE:

It's not like it was smelling up the freezer. It was wrapped in plastic, okay? But he kind of forgot about it. Out of sight, out of mind. Sometimes I'd get the willies late at night when I was alone. And I'd mention it to Abdul. And he'd say, "Yeah yeah." Reflecting on it now, I don't think Abdul and his uncle were all that close.

MARTIN:

Wasn't anyone back in the old country saying anything?

LOUISE:

His wife'd call. Abdul would say, "He's in Detroit." Abdul likes Detroit. So whenever she called and it was me who'd answer, I'd say, "He's in Detroit." And she'd say, "Okay." Detroit was okay. For a while. But lately, there've been a lot of phone calls. Different people. They wouldn't talk to me. They wanted Abdul or nobody. But Abdul wasn't taking phone calls anymore.

MARTIN:

Oh geez. I don't like this at all.

LOUISE:

So last Friday, he shows up.

MARTIN:

You said Abdul never comes in on Friday!

LOUISE:

Came this time. Early morning. Said he had a funeral arranged. So we put the body in the car.

MARTIN:

Don't you have to thaw it out first?

LOUISE:

How the heck would I know? Think I'm a funeral director? Anyway, I didn't ask. Glad it was gone. Dead body behind the ice cream? Giving me the heebee-jeebies. Later, Abdul calls. All agitated. Says the hand's missing. I'm thinking, it must've snapped off while we were lugging Uncle Abdulla to the car.

MARTIN:

Oh yeah. Frozen solid. It'll snap right off. I read about a man in a cabin in Canada in a blizzard. He went outside to take a leak and.

LOUISE:

Anyway! I told him I'd look. And he's screaming, "Hurry! Please!" And I said, "Okay okay!" Except, I'd been snacking on hotdogs and chili all night.

MARTIN:

Oh yeah, love that 7-Eleven chili.

LOUISE:

And I kind of was doing the Aztec two-step?

MARTIN:

I know what you mean. Loosens you up.

LOUISE:

And I always go next door to Burger King.

MARTIN:

See, I could never understand that. The 7-Eleven bathroom seems fine to me.

LOUISE:

You don't see it like I do. Uncle Abdulla could never hit the mark. He was a sprayer. All over the place. And after he bought it, I kept thinking, A dead man took his dumps on this hopper.

MARTIN:

Oh right. Yeah. Never thought of that.

LOUISE:

They always got ten kids working at Burger King. Bathroom's immaculate. You could eat a whopper off the tile, it's that clean. So I posted the 'Back in 15 minutes' sign, went over there with the new Cosmo. I took a flashlight so I could hunt for the hand on the way back. I'm sitting there reading about Barbara Walters interviewing Paris Hilton when suddenly. Ka-Boom! Cops and firemen on the scene all night and all the next day. First chance I got to look for it was today.

(Long silence. Then......)

MARTIN:

You don't think Abdul planted a bomb, do you?

LOUISE:

Marty, listen. Abdul's the best. He wouldn't hurt me. He's given me three raises in the last two years.

MARTIN:

People change. On the one hand, you got this nice guy who gives you raises. On the other hand, you got a man who tosses his uncle's body into the freezer without as much as a how do you do.

LOUISE:

I do admit, the freezer thing is a potential character flaw. You know, a funny thing?

MARTIN:

What?

LOUISE:

He was gonna have free hot dogs on Christmas Eve.

MARTIN:

Get out!

LOUISE:

Her idea. Pentecostals take Christmas real serious.

MARTIN:

Christmas hot dogs. I surely do like that concept.

LOUISE:

Ain't gonna happen.

MARTIN:

Too bad. Had my mouth set. He gonna rebuild?

LOUISE:

Maybe, maybe not. What he is doing is learning Spanish.

MARTIN:

They speak Spanish in Mexico, don't they?

LOUISE:

Imagine they do. Abdul's good at languages.

MARTIN:

I hear you. He speaks English bettern me. I heard him rip off "influential" and "ornithologist" like a champ.

LOUISE:

Face it. The man's in love. When you're in love, you already got one foot halfway out the door.

MARTIN:

They could be halfway to Mexico by now.
(Long silence. Then......)
Ever read of the pioneers? Folks who settled the west?

LOUISE:

Little.

MARTIN:

What I learned was, they kept moving. They'd stop somewhere, work a piece of land. Then someone'd come by on their way further out. And they'd get all antsy and move on. I guess they were scared they'd miss out. There's that scared word.

LOUISE:

Bet they were never scared by a 7-Eleven blowing up.

MARTIN:

They had wild Indians and range wars and the Hole-In-The-Wall gang. Scared balances out.

LOUISE:

Well, there's no frontier anymore. Its all settled.

MARTIN:

There's Alaska. They call it, the last frontier.

LOUISE:

I dont know anybody in Alaska.

MARTIN:

Who did you know when you came to Fargo?

LOUISE:

No one.

MARTIN:

Duh!

LOUISE:

Maybe I should leave a note.

MARTIN:

No no no. No notes.

LOUISE:

But. But just saying Abdul's still around and he comes looking for me?

MARTIN:

When he doesn't find you, he'll say you're missing.

LOUISE:

They better have Lotto up there. I like to play a dollar a day. It's something I do.

MARTIN:

They got Mega Millions, Spinnits, CASHola, Pick 6, scratchers. They got oil money falling off the trees. Odds are easy. There's winners up the ying yang. How about we play together? Play five dollars a day?

LOUISE:

Maybe I could be Lucky Louise after all.

MARTIN:

Or Lucky someone else. Tell you what. While were driving up, we'll think up some new names.

LOUISE:

Claudia. There was this girl at school and her name was Claudia. I always liked Claudia.

(He starts to exit. He turns and beckons)

MARTIN:

We got ten days to Christmas. Five days of hard driving, we'll be there. Should take you a day or two to find work. Then it'll be like any other year in your life. Working at Christmas. And you know what it'll say on your name tag? "Hi, I'm Claudia."

(She takes the pouch and slings it as far as she can. Fade to black)

The End

MY LESBIAN PLAY...

Cast of Characters

Joan..................Female, age mid 20s
Toni....................Female, age early 20s

Technical Requirements

A sofa, a chair, 2 doors, sound-effect of a Christmas party in next room

(Inside a room. Sounds of a Christmas party in the next room. Two doors. One door leads to party. The other leads to a bathroom. JOAN paces, drink in her hand. She sips nervously,
glances at watch)

JOAN:

Toni. Come on. Please, Toni. Please don't be late. Please don't be late for this. Toni, come on. I need you, Toni. Come on, Toni. Toni, walk through that door. Now.
(Sends telepathic message to door)
Door opens. Toni enters. Joan sighs.
(Snaps finger, sees nothing has changed)
Darn!
(Sits, takes out cellphone)
Love stinks. Sometimes.
(Dials. Listens)
Toni, where are you? Toni, please pick up. People are waiting. I'm waiting. Mitch is waiting. No, darn you! I. I will not leave a message!

(Door opens, laughing voices, clinking glasses.
Enter TONI, dressed Goth/Industrial,
with drink in hand)

TONI:

They're serving cuba libres out there.

JOAN:

Well, hi stranger.

TONI:

So. You were trying to call me?

JOAN:

Yes.

TONI:

Lost my phone.

JOAN:

Lost your phone?

TONI:

Yeah. Gonzo. Like into thin air.

JOAN:

How?

TONI:

Dunno. It was there one minute and.
(Drains glass)
Dog ate it, I guess.
(Laughs. Holds up empty glass)
Oh oh. Empty. Gotta go refresh.

JOAN:

Toni.

TONI:

Yeah?

JOAN:

No more after this.

TONI:

Yeah. Right.

JOAN:

I mean it, Toni. No more after this one. You know how you.

TONI:

Listen, I don't need this from you. I work fucking hard. Between Jerry Bonneau and that weasel Simon riding my ass, I earned me some R & R. Now back off.

JOAN:

I know you work har.

TONI:

No, you don't. And don't say you do when you don't. And don't gimme no speech. It's Christmas. It's okay at Christmas. I'm just one of Santa's fucking elves. Just waiting for the sleigh to pass by so I can jump on. What's the matter? Never seen a fucking elf?

JOAN:

Okay. Sure. Go. Go refresh.

TONI:

Fucking A.

(Opens door, laughing voices, clinking
glasses. TONI exits)

JOAN:

(Walks to an imaginary mirror. Mimes
brushing her hair)
We get one supremely magic night and we spend the remainder of our days trying to resurrect it. A part of us says, forget it, the effort is futile, while another part thinks our case might be the unique one. The exception to the rule. So we keep on keeping on, hoping against hope. That's how it is with magic. Even so, you could have said something. It wouldnt have cost you to say something. I wish you had. It hurt you didnt notice I bought a pretty dress. And a pretty pair of heels. I recall I was dressed like this the night we.
(Trails off. A short silence while
she collects her thoughts)
I so want things to be perfect tonight. I so want you to be proud of me. Why did you say nothing?

(Door opens, laughing voices, clinking glasses.
TONI re-enters carrying two drinks)

TONI:

Got you a fresh Shirley Temple.

JOAN:

Thank you.

TONI:

(Holds her drink in front of her close to her.
Covers top of glass with her hand)
Look uh. I'm sorry.

JOAN:

It's okay.

TONI:

No. It's not okay. Look, I'll just kind of nurse this one along. Okay?

JOAN:

Okay.

TONI:

Nurse. Nursing a drink. I wonder where that came from.

JOAN:

I don't know.

TONI:

You're the word girl. You know all the words. Why we say what they say. I just thought you might know.

JOAN:

No. Sorry.

TONI:

(Takes sip)
Bogart said the world's always three drinks behind. Did you know that?

JOAN:

No.
(Silence. Then......)
I'm thinking.

TONI:

Yeah?

JOAN:

Thinking about New York.

TONI:

Yeah, think. Hey, I got one. Who said, "What we think, we are?"

>JOAN:

Did you hear me?

TONI:

Yeah. You said New York. And I said, who said, what we think, we are?

JOAN:

I'm thinking about going back to New York.

TONI:

Guess.

JOAN:

I dont want to guess.

TONI:

I said guess.

JOAN:

No.

TONI:

Dammit, who said, What we think, we are?

JOAN:

Oh for God's sake. Kennedy.

TONI:

Which Kennedy?

JOAN:

I don't know! Toni, I'm going to New.

TONI:

I heard. Three times. We're not going to New York!

JOAN:

No, I'm going.

TONI:

No, you're not.

JOAN:

Why are you saying no? You don't want me.

TONI:

This is how it starts. When she wants to mix it up, she starts with the you don't want me.

JOAN:

You're dressed like we're going to a Goth club. You can't touch me without getting drunk. I bore you.

TONI:

And then she says bored. She doesn't know bored. I know bored. You want bored? Here's bored. Trivial Pursuit. Disco. Sushi. That's bored. Everything else is a fucking huge galactic extravaganza, so awesome it makes me come just thinking about it.

JOAN:

I dreamt I was in a cage. And you were watching me. I said, Toni, touch me and you looked away.

TONI:

Then she trots out the dreams and the psychic shit. I touch her. Sometimes I touch her. See?
(Touches JOAN's arm. She jerks her
arm away)
You're not going.

JOAN:

Yes. I am.

TONI:

No. Case closed.

JOAN:

You won't stop me.

TONI:

Buddha!

JOAN:·

I mean it.

TONI:

It was Buddha!

JOAN:

This is dying. This thing. This thing we have. It's dying. I'm dying. You're dying. We're dying.

TONI:

Look at me. Do I look like I'm dying? It was Buddha. Buddha said, What we think, we are. Now Buddha's a stupid fat fuck. And what's worse, a stupid-looking fat fuck. A stupid-looking fat fuck who sits and jacks off. Look how he sits. Crosslegged on the floor. With that shit-eating grin. That's the jackoff position. But every so often, the fat boy comes up with a gem. Something simple. Something clean. What we think, we are.
(Takes a sip. Sees her glass is half-full)
Hey, guess what? I think I'm a drink. I'm gonna have them kind of top me off. You okay with that?

(Starts to exit)

JOAN:

Please, Toni. Please don't upset Mitch.

TONI:

Brother Mitch can bite me.

(TONI opens door, laughing voices, clinking glasses. TONI exits)

JOAN:

(Walks to imaginary mirror. Takes out
handkerchief and dabs her makeup)
I went to see Mitch last week. I didn't tell you. I wanted to see how we stood. He's not like you say, Toni. He's nice, he's a gentleman, he makes you feel important when he's talking to you. And he listens. I like that. He said, thank you, Joan. I was taken aback! Thank you? Thank you for what? Thank you, he said, for bringing some sanity to my sister's life. Thank you. Wow! That was a shocker. It's been a while since anyone said thank you to poor Joannie.

(Door opens, laughing voices, clinking glasses.
TONI enters carrying two drinks)

TONI:

See? Still sober. Got you a fresh Shirley Temple.

JOAN:

I just don't want you being sick.

TONI:

Don't start on me, Joan. Mitch says we go in ten.

JOAN:

No.

TONI:

Okay, fine. Make it twenty minutes.

JOAN:

No.

TONI:

What do you mean, no?

JOAN:

I mean.

TONI:

No way you're standing me up with Mitch out there. That dickhead would ride me till my dying day.

JOAN:

Toni. Toni, please. Lets just.

TONI:

No! Were gonna do this. No is not an option. You're gonna back me up. Remember, you're on my side.
(Drinks half her glass)
We're gonna go out, hand in hand, just like we said. I'm gonna look at you and smile and say bla-bla-bla.

JOAN:

(Starts slowly backing toward the bathroom)
No.

TONI:

(Advancing toward her, hand outstretched)
Yes. You're gonna smile and flutter your eyelashes.

JOAN:

(Backing away more)
No.

TONI:

(Advancing)
Yes. Mitch is gonna grin from ear to ear. All the guestie-guests are gonna go, awwww, ain't that sweet?

JOAN:

(Backing)
No.

TONI:

(Advancing)
Yes. Now come on, let's do it. Let's roll.··

JOAN:

(slips inside bathroom)
No.

TONI:

Hey come on. Don't do this to me.
(Sound of door locking)
Oh shit, she did it.
(Knocks on door)
Joan. Come on. Come on out. Joan, please, we got to do this thing. We got to do this thing right now. Mitch is getting everybody ready. We gotta be there. Cause this is for us. They can't have it without us. So please come on out.
(Pounds on door)
Damn it, Joan! You can't leave me alone and naked! You get your ass out here and stand by me.
(Silence, then......)
We have good times. Sometimes we do. Good times. Fun times. Maybe not like we used to. But. Well. Right now there's this one thing. She wants me to go to meetings. She won't go. Says I'm the one with the problem. So I have to go. Well, they. They want you to go together to these things. Someone's gonna say, wheres your mate? And see, I'd have to invent something. Well, I'm not going to do that. I don't make up stories. That's not my way.
(Knocks softly on bathroom door)
Uh look, I'm sorry. Sorry I'm drunk. Sorry I rained on your parade. I know, I know. Don't have to say it. I'm like one of those jerks who dances with his wife maybe once every ten years and has to be shitfaced to do it. I'm clumsy, awkward. I fall over stuff. I don't know how to act. Sure, I admit it. Like a bull in a China shop. All thumbs? Yeah, that's me. A stumbler? A bumbler? You got my number. But you gotta remember, Joan. You picked me. Out of all the women you could have picked, you picked Toni. And, let me tell you, I want to thank you. I know I don't show it so good, but I want you to know it's an honor to be with you. To know people are saying, You see her? That's Toni. Her and that Joan chick got a thing going. They all talk about how Joan is so cool, so reserved, so controlled. And I have to tell you it drives me a little crazy sometimes. Like I don't know how to act around you. I'm like the clang and the bang and the crash on the the edge of your calm. I need your calm. I need you touching me so I know it's okay. I need some rules so I don't act stupid. I don't need someone to stand back and watch me fall on my face and say, Just look at her. That's Toni, that dumb bitch. I'm scared, Joan. I need you. I need you with me. I need you next to me. I need you now.

(Door opens. JOAN enters)

JOAN:

Say. Youre Toni, aren't you?

TONI:

Yeah, that's me. I'm Toni.

JOAN:

Don't you and that Joan chick have something going?

TONI:

Yeah, we sure do. She's some gem.

JOAN:

Thats what I heard. I heard she's a gem. I heard you two are doing the thing tonight.

TONI:

You heard that?

JOAN:

Everyone's heard. Talk of the town. Christmas Eve commitments are special.

TONI:

Yeah. That was Joan's idea. Shes smart that way.

JOAN:

She must be. Well, I just had to come. I hope I'm not late.

TONI:

(Offering arm)
You're right on time. It's just about to start. Grab onto me. I'll escort you in. You'll get the best seat in the house.

JOAN:

Thank you.

TONI:

Oh, say.

JOAN:

Yes?

TONI:

That's a nice dress. Nice shoes too. Real classy.

JOAN:

Thank you.

(They walk together arm in arm. Blackout)

The End

ABOUT A DOG

Years ago, I wrote a short Christmas play for a playwrights group I used to belong to. Every Christmas season, the group put on a holiday festival at the Chance Theater in Anaheim Hills to raise money. So I decided to put my dog Becky in my play as a character. That's Becky in the picture...





Becky's English is pretty limited, so I gave her a non-speaking role. In fact, her character was never to be seen on stage, but only spoken of. Someone later told me that my Becky play would make a good full-length. So, in 2003, I wrote it, and the full-length, entitled A Better Place, made the 2004 O'Neill short list. Not bad, huh?





Anyway, here's the ten-minute. It's called A Dog's Christmas and it was a joy to write...

A DOG'S CHRISTMAS

Cast of Characters

Ali………………Bitch, confrontational, overweight
Artie…………Pug, impressionable, leads with his mouth
Brick…………Akita, tough guy but not a leader
Cyril…………Russian Wolfhound, a thinker, an artist

(Midnight. Animal Shelter. The humans are
all asleep. Four dogs, ARTIE, ALI, BRICK and CYRIL, sitting down to play cards)

ARTIE:

Dja hear about Becky?

BRICK:

Yeah.

ARTIE:

It sucks! It just sucks!

ALI:

What about Becky?

ARTIE:

I tell ya. Chicks get all the breaks.

ALI:

Oh yeah. Lucky us. We get all the breaks.

ARTIE:

It sucks! I mean, it just sucks!

ALI:

I’ll give you sucks. Try nursing seven pups.

CYRIL:

Wha? What’s all this about Becky?

BRICK:

Cyr. I already told you about Becky.

ALI:

It’s no big deal, Cyr. Just some type-A males venting about you know what.

BRICK:

Hey, shut up, Ali.

ALI:

Ooooh, struck a nerve.

ARTIE:

Tell ya, you can’t win. The fix is on. Game over, man.

CYRIL:

No, Brick. I don’t think you told me.

BRICK:

Cyr. I toldja about Becky. I know I did.

CYRIL:

You did? Well. Hmmm. I suppose if you say you did, you did. Guess I just wasn’t listening.

BRICK:

You never listen. Gotta open your ears, big guy.

ALI:

Cut!

ARTIE:

Cut!
(Long silence)
Cut!

BRICK:

Uh Cyr. They want you should cut the cards.

CYRIL:

What? Oh. Yes. Sorry, Artie.

ALI:

Geez, Cyril.

CYRIL:

I really am sorry.

ARTIE:

Willya just hurry up and cut?
(Cyril cuts. Artie grabs the deck and
shuffles and deals. As he shuffles and
deals, ARTIE speaks the following to
no one in particular)
That was a nice kid. A real nice little kid. With a pretty mom. They both had real nice smiles. I wouldda been so. Well shit. What am I thinking?

(They play cards as they talk)

Cyril:

Of whom are we speaking?

ARTIE:

Becky. Who the hell you think we’re talking about?

ALI:

Always blaming the female. Cherchez La Femme.

BRICK:

So the mom and the little kid. Did they stop and look at you?

ARTIE:

They make ‘em look at everybody. Just a formality.

BRICK:

Well, what happened?

ARTIE:

What happened? You wanna know what happened? I’ll tell you what happened! They were passing my cage and I went to my sit position just like I practiced a million times. You know, butt down, head up, eyes alert. I could tell the little boy was impressed. I even tilted my head so I could give him a really intelligent smile. And then you know what Becky does? She wiggles her tush. Jumps around going “Yap, yap, yap” Crouches down on all fours. Rolls over. And her tongue is goin’ a thousand miles a minute. You can’t compete with that! I tell you. Chicks get all the breaks.

BRICK:

Artie. Don’t get upset.

ALI:

It is such a double standard in this place. We’re supposed to be attractive, but when a male wants to strut his stuff, we’re supposed to back away and be invisible. Where’s the justice?

ARTIE:

All I’m asking is a chance.

BRICK:

Didja hear? He’s not asking much, Ali. Just a chance.

ARTIE:

I would be the best dog you ever had. I know I would. Just give me the chance. Please take me home. I will make you happy. I’m Artie. Try me. Please.

BRICK:

Relax, Artie. Take it easy.

CYRIL:

It’s true. Being the dog at someone’s house is a wonderfully unique experience. It was like that for me when I lived with Miss Rosa. What a wonderful woman.

ARTIE:

You see? You see? Even Cyril had a shot. What is wrong with me? What is wrong with this picture?

CYRIL:

Did I say something wrong?

ALI:

Naw. Artie’s a pug. Pugs always whine.

BRICK:

(Stage whisper to CYRIL & ALI)
Listen! Will you two watch it!? Artie’s got five days and if he doesn’t find a home, they’re gonna.
(Pantomimes execution by hanging)
So be nice to him.

(ALI & CYRIL blink, look frightened)

ARTIE:

Hey, Cyril!

CYRIL:

(Making the effort to sound especially
nice. ALI flashes a big smile)
Yes, Artie.

ARTIE:

Just for the record. How dja hook up with Miss Rosa?

BRICK:

Artie. Would you please just relax?

ARTIE:

I am relaxed.

BRICK:

I don’t want you getting upset.

ARTIE:

What are you talking about? I am relaxed, dammit! Very relaxed! Extremely relaxed! I’m just trying to understand some stuff, OK? Just trying to get some clarification.

BRICK:

You’re pissed. I know when you’re.

ARTIE:

I am not pissed!

BRICK:

Yes, you are!

ARTIE:

Hey! Don’t try and psychoanalyze me, OK? Cyril, willya tell me about Miss Rosa? Please.

BRICK:

Don’t tell him, Cyril. It’ll upset him.

ARTIE:

C’mon Cyr. Talk to your buddy Artie.

ALI:

I thought this was a friendly card game. Anyone wanna play cards?

BRICK:

(Growls threateningly)
Cyril.

ARTIE:

Now Brick, you’re starting to piss me off.

CYRIL:

(Getting flustered and nervous)
Brick. What do you want me to do?

BRICK:

Shit! I give up! Just go ahead and do what you damn well want.

ALI:

Don’t you just love how decisive males are? So hands on, take charge?

ARTIE:

Yeah, why doncha butt out, Brick?

BRICK:

OK, screw it then.

ARTIE:

Yeah, just screw it, dumbass.

BRICK:

Right. Screw it.

CYRIL:

Brick. I’m really don’t want you to be mad at me. I didn’t mean.

BRICK:

It’s OK!

CYRIL:

You’re certain.

BRICK:

I said it was OK!

ALI:

Didntja hear him say it was OK? It’s OK. Sheesh!

CYRIL:

OK. Uh, Artie. So what exactly did you want to know?

ARTIE:

I wanna know all the details. And the details behind the details. Like. Where’d Miss Rosa find you?

CYRIL:

Oh, ha ha. It was more like me finding her.

ARTIE:

Say what?

CYRIL:

To put it succinctly, I walked into her yard.

ARTIE:

Walked in? Walked in from where?

BRICK:

His owners dumped him out in the sticks.

CYRIL:

Yes. Sad to say. One day they wanted me. The next day they didn’t.

ARTIE:

Wait a minute. Are you talking about Miss Rosa? I thought you said.

BRICK:

No. Artie. This was before Miss Rosa.

ALI:

(Indicates CYRIL)
Brick. It’s Cyril’s story. Okay?

BRICK:

Well screw it. Everybody’s dumpin’ on me. Guess I’ll just shut up.

ARTIE:

Good plan, asshole.

CYRIL:

It was a young couple. No children. Dual income, no kids. DINKs. And they were away all day.

ARTIE:

They left you alone?

CYRIL:

They’d come back at night. They fought all the time and the woman would drink and kick me.

ARTIE:

You shouldda bit the bitch!

CYRIL:

That’s not my style. To make a long story short, New Year’s Day they were both home. They put me in the car and we went for a ride out on the country roads and.

BRICK:

And they threw him out of the car.

ALI:

(Shivers)
That happened to me, too.

CYRIL:

Brick, it wasn’t exactly like that!

BRICK:

All right, not exactly. They didn’t throw him out. They pushed him out. Then they drove off.

ARTIE:

They did this on New Year’s Day?

CYRIL:

Right after the Rose Bowl.

ALI:

My owners did it to me on Labor Day. I was pregnant.

ARTIE:

The maggots!

CYRIL:

I started walking and I came to a house. And there were chickens in the yard and two skinny cats who hissed at me and a big tom turkey and there was Miss Rosa tossing seeds to the chickens and the turkey. And she turned to me and she said, “Happy New Year, big fella. You look hungry.”

ARTIE:

Awright!

CYRIL:

I wasn’t hungry but I smiled and nodded. She went inside and came back out with the biggest soup bone I ever saw in my life.

ARTIE:

Oh man!

CYRIL:

She never cursed me. She never kicked me. She never scolded me. She always said, “Good boy. Good dog.”

ALI:

My female intuition is kicking in.
(Takes a hanky, dabs her eyes)
I know this is gonna have a sad ending.

ARTIE:

Hey! You wanna put a sock in it? So what happened next?

CYRIL:

One morning I woke up early. I heard the cats in the kitchen. I knew something wasn’t right. I walked in and I saw her there on the floor. The cats already knew she was gone. They were hissing and growling. I told them I was sorry. They rubbed against me and told me they were sorry too. That was the only time those cats ever spoke to me.

BRICK:

Fuckin’ cats!

ALI:

(Sobbing)
That is so sad.

CYRIL:

One of Miss Rosa’s sons came to the house around noon and they took her away.

ARTIE:

I’m sorry, Cyr.

ALI:

(Sobbing)
That is so sad.

CYRIL:

She was a saint. I loved her.
(Tears well up)
She was a saint.

(Long reflective silence. ALI continues to quietly sob)

ARTIE:

Cyr?

CYRIL:

Yes, Artie.

ARTIE:

A good woman like Miss Rosa. Good to dogs. Good to cats. Good to birds.

BRICK:

Fuckin’ birds!

ARTIE:

Do you think she’s you know. Somewhere? Out there?

CYRIL:

Artie. I have no doubt she’s up there looking down on us right now.

ARTIE:

Really?

CYRIL:

I believe a virtuous life is rewarded.

ARTIE:

Wow. So. So. Are you including uh. You know. Dogs in this?

CYRIL:

There are virtuous dogs. Just like there are virtuous humans. And virtuous cows.

BRICK:

Fuckin’ cows!

ARTIE:

Cyril.

CYRIL:

Yes, Artie.

ARTIE:

Do you think?

CYRIL:

You’re a good dog, Artie. You’re a shoo-in.

The End