Amor No Fluxo (Love in Flux).

This is a trilogy of erotic plays, comprised of "PASS THE SALT, PLEASE." - (10 minutes), 4 1/2 MINUTES (give or take) TO CLIMAX (20 minutes), and my latest play, REVEILLE! (One Act). You'll find the synopsis for each individual play below.

The idea was to package the plays and market AMOR NO FLUXO as an evening of theater. And, depending on the various markets, I can sell them individually. All three require simple sets and CLIMAX has the most characters with 6, plus one non-speaking. Read more!

Linn County, Iowa

© Copyright 2006 Pete Ylvisaker

Read more!

"Reveille!"

Inspired by Ken Burns’ The Civil War and A.R. Gurney’s Pulitzer Prize for Drama nominated, “Love Letters”, two women in 1862 Virginia strive to maintain a “normal” existence, one in which their perspective on each other is as different as their perspectives on the war itself.

While Catherin - the utilitarian, older woman - manages the day-to-day life on the farm, Amanda fancies herself a writer. Between Amanda's letters to her beau, Dowd, who is off fighting the Yankees, Dowd's letters to Amanda, and Amanda's diary entries (and a healthy spritz of Walt Whitman and Catherin's temperament), a story is weaved that encompasses the thoughts and desires of both Amanda and Dowd - and Catherin, concerning the war, love and life, in general...a story unlike any Civil War tale you've ever heard.

REVEILLE! is a one-act play, the the third in the erotic trilogy, AMOR NO FLUXO (Love in Flux). The other shorts are “PASS THE SALT, PLEASE.” and 4 ½ MINUTES (give or take) TO CLIMAX.
ONE ACT (2W)

NEW! *Official Entrant, Attic Theatre One-Act Marathon, Los Angeles, CA, January 2009; Zoetrope All-Story, September 2008.

"I really liked what I read...Your character development was great. I am not an expert on giving advice on plays...I can tell you if I liked it or I didn't...I think people will have a positive response." - Amy Svoboda, interior designer, Chicago, IL

"Quite lovely...slow-paced but completely appropriate for the time period. And wonderfully poetic." - Val Grant, screenwriter and graphic designer, Los Angeles, CA

"Great one-act. Compelling story, authentic, engaging characters. Surprising ending that felt right, and felt organic to the story. Strong writing all the way around." - Vicki Letizia, producer, Peabody recipient, VP, Development, PorchLight Entertainment, Los Angeles, CA

"I finished your play this morning, and it was so moving. Really...I love the storyline, the setting, the characters are so well conceived. I loved the transition you made from Amanda's love for Dowd becoming realized with Catherine. Wow! I can't believe as a man, you were able to capture two women like that. The conversations were natural and some of it reminded me of how my sister and I talk. I adored the Whitman quotes. I shed a few tears Jeff, reading the last letter Amanda reads." - Katie Anderson, writer, visual artist, member of Inked-In.com, poet, Kokomo, IN"Reveille!"

A One Act Play (excerpt)
by Jeffrey James Ircink

© Copyright September 2007, Jeffrey James Ircink
4745 saint nicholas avenue
culver city, ca 90230
c: (262) 806-2808
w: (310) 477-8400
weakknees@gbpackersfan.com
irc_64@hotmail.com
February 2008

Cast of Characters

Catherin (Older Woman): 32-38

Amanda (Younger Woman): 24-30


ACT I, SCENE 1

(August. 1862. Evening. Somewhere in the Shenandoah Valley of Northern Virginia. The Civil War is in its second year. AMANDA, 25, is sitting at a long table in the living room of a modest farm home - alone. She is wearing the best dress she owns. Throughout the play, another woman - CATHERIN - enters and exits the room. She is eight years older and plays a utilitarian role, busying herself with the day-to-day routines associated with the house and property. With pen in hand, AMANDA reads from a letter she is writing.)

AMANDA
"I arose early this morning, fed the ducks which number around 30, looked over the fields and the garden and gathered some watermelon, say two or three for the day, of which we have a handsome sprinkle and a second growth on the vines. I came in and washed up and had some light breakfast - a roll of bread and fresh butter with a cup of coffee. Then I walked into town to do some shopping and listened to talk of the war and other gossip, including the elections which seem to have the whole town churning about like a beehive. I returned home after deciding war news frightens me so and had dinner – today it was pork, a little batterbread of sweet corn meal, some fresh butter and plenty of good buttermilk. We usually save the pork for special occasions, though I don’t recollect what that special occasion was today. I am thankfully full for which I praise the good Lord. I read some poetry from Godey’s Ladies Book then took a nap for an hour."
(CATHERIN enters from outside, carrying a watermelon, and goes directly into the kitchen to clean it. She is dressed in work clothes. AMANDA looks up, then continues reading her letter.)
"I awoke refreshed and went for a long walk down the lane...at least it seemed long for me. It was still fairly warm outside as I noticed beads of sweat forming on my brow and I had to wipe my face often. It was a clear, beautiful day – clearer than I remember for some time. And quiet – like it used to be before the war. Noticing it was getting late in the day, I started for home, where I ate some fresh raspberries and currents and some leftover cornmeal. I spent the rest of the evening delighting myself by catching up on a particular serial story in Godey’s about a woman who believes her husband has been killed fighting the Yankees and is courted by a country gentleman; however, it all spells disaster as her husband, who turns out to be very much alive, receives a week’s furlough and returns home to find his wife with another man – the country gentleman - who just so happens to be his brother. I will not spoil the ending – in case you happen upon a copy of Godey’s yourself – but I will say thank the Lord and Robert E. Lee that there is still honor left in the South."
(AMANDA glances up at CATHERIN, who is slicing open the watermelon. She reads as she writes.)
"I cut up the watermelon I gathered from the garden and found it to be the sweetest I had ever tasted. As sweet as sweet can be."
(AMANDA continues writing in silence. Then she reads out loud what she has just written.)
"So sweet, as a matter of fact, that I’m beginning to feel tired – probably from fretting over that poor Yankee woman in the Godey serial. Though she and I are on opposite sides of the fence when it comes to the war, we are women, and therefore, I empathize with her misfortunes. I think I shall turn in. I haven’t slept a full night in months. These are the days - "

CATHERIN
Who are you writing about?

AMANDA
Myself.

CATHERIN
Sure about that?

AMANDA
‘Course I’m sure. Who else would I be writing about? I’m submitting a story for publication in Godey’s Ladies Book. They’re asking readers to, ‘tell us about your typical day’, in 500 words or less. So – that’s what I’m doing. I’m writing about my typical day.

CATHERIN
Then it must’ve slipped your mind that I’m the one who picked the watermelon and prepares the meals and goes into town for supplies. I do the milking and chase after the cows in the middle of the night when they get through the fence. I do the sewing and the ironing and the cooking and the laundry –

AMANDA
Alright, alright.
(AMANDA gets up, walks into the kitchen and pours herself a drink. She has a brace on her leg and walks with a slight limp.)
I help fold the laundry.

CATHERIN
Where I really need your help is scrubbing the laundry. Anyone can fold.

AMANDA
Not everyone can fold properly. Besides, I have weak elbows. Doc Clemens said so. And I never said I prepared the meals – only that I ate them. Besides...if I’m going to be a writer someday, I have to learn to embellish. I plan to write fiction, you know. Real life isn’t nearly as excitin’ as embellished life.

CATHERIN
Not the real life we’re living in. Not today, leastwise.
(Beat)
How many words did you say?

AMANDA
500.

CATHERIN
You gonna have enough to go on about?

AMANDA
500 or less.
(Beat)
I detect a jibe in your query.

CATHERIN
The jibe is in those words you’re putting to paper.

AMANDA
Oh go on. You’re just jealous because Godey’s Ladies Book didn’t ask you to submit a story, that’s all.

CATHERIN
I think it’s wonderful Godey’s ran an ad inviting all its readers to send in a story.

AMANDA
How would you know? You never read Godey’s so how would you know the first thing about it?

CATHERIN
(Somewhat irate – she’s heard this before.)
Godey’s Ladies Book is a prissy piece of trash for passin’ time and nothing more. Why, any soul in his right mind would pay good money for the paper it’s printed on just so he – or she – could have something fittin’ to use in the washroom. And I am not referring to washing one’s hands either.

AMANDA
Well that’s peculiar talk coming from a lady. I don’t recall the last time I’ve heard such vulgarity spoken in our home.
(Beat)
I say Godey’s is not a luxury but a necessity. With its helpful hints and its patterns and needle-work and instructions in housekeeping – why we save twice the price we pay for it in less than a few months.

CATHERIN
Anything I’d write would put to shame 99% of the gibberish in that rag – if I had the inclination...or the time.

AMANDA
Then why don’t you submit a story?

(Once she has finished slicing the watermelon, CATHERIN begins ironing.)

CATHERIN
The world is an unhappy place, Amanda. My demeanor would have to be on a higher plain for me to even consider the task of sitting down to write – Godey’s or otherwise.

AMANDA
Well if the world were in a better place, what would you write about then?
(Beat)
Oh, come on. Don’t be such a sour puss. Tell me.

CATHERIN
I don’t know.
(Reflecting.)
I suppose I’d write about living here in the valley – before the war...when even the faintest breeze blows in the smell of sassafras blossoms from a mile away and the mockingbirds swoop down on anyone who gets close to their nest – which they do without reservation because everyone knows you’re never to kill a mockingbird and the mockingbirds know it, too.
(She stops ironing.)
I’d write about how that dog of yours slouches around so much so you’d think she were dead to the world –

AMANDA
Don’t talk unkindly about Molly. She’s never ever even hurt a flea.

CATHERIN
- except for when she nips at the honey bees flying about her head.
(Beat)
Or I’d write about the farm, and how you’re scared of feeding the chickens and how one day –

AMANDA
I am not!

CATHERIN
You are too – and quit interrupting me. And how one day you proposed we eat the Rhode Island Red and Plymouth Rock chickens as they most certainly were Yankee-bred and would do irreparable harm to a Southerner’s palate. I’d tell of midnight walks along 4 ¼ Mile Road, lit up by the slightest sliver of a moon – like a postcard...where you can hear the rippling and splashing of Little Mountain Run in the dark as she snakes down and around through the Shenandoah Valley, and the horned owl joins the bullfrog and the crickets in a symphony that only God could compose. Or the lonesome whistle of the Blue Ridge Railway...clickety-clackety – reminding me there’s a world to explore beyond this valley. I’d write how exhausted I am after drinking it all in and how I’m able to get a full night’s sleep and wake up refreshed, ready to experience it all over again.
(Beat)
Not like now...where the world’s filled with nothing but the suffering because of some men’s war. Not like now when I worry that soldiers might steal off with the horses in the middle of the night or that I might awaken to a rifle barrel stuck in my gut – or worse.
(Beat)
Oh I smell sassafras occasionally. And I’m not saying the crickets have stopped chirping all together. But it’s –
(Beat)
– everything I cherish about this place has been smothered by war. The trains bring men into town, filling our streets with blue troops and gray troops marching off to fight and kill one another. The air is filled with smoke and fire. The Yankees’ blockade stopped Little Mountain Run from rippling and splashing. How many people have we known moved away or killed? This simple life of ours which I derived so much joy is no more.
(Beat)
I used to enjoy the rain – a steady, long, slow rain. It washed the earth clean and made everything smell reborn...new – like fresh laundry brought in outta the sun and the wind. The only rain that falls now brings with it the stench of death and the streets run with the blood of young men who are lost forever. And I’m afraid that everything will change and I’ll forget what it was like.
(Sheepishly.)
I didn’t mean to ramble.
(Beat. She goes back to ironing.)
That’s what I’d write about. The way things used to be. Our reality is the war. What joy would there be in writing about that?

AMANDA
Well I’m fairly certain that’s not the slant Godey’s is aspiring it’s readers to write about – all that blood and guts and such. I, for one, choose to concentrate on the positive aspects of the day. War or no war.

CATHERIN
Why don’t you write about that boy you’re always talking about? What’s his name – Dowd? You two write back and forth enough – I’m sure there’s plenty of inspiration in those letters.

AMANDA
He’s in love with me – did I tell you that? Yes...I’m not entirely sure to what degree I reciprocate those feelings. I feel something for him, though I’m not for certain if it’s real love or just an infatuation. You remember him, don’t you, Catherin? He lived in the next county over. His father bought and sold horses before the war. I think he’s a zillionaire now after selling horses to the army. Makes no never mind to me. I’m not interested in Dowd’s fortune. Just in Dowd - maybe.

CATHERIN
Well whatever you write about I’m quite certain you’ll be optimistic for both of us. Maybe something good will come of it.

AMANDA
Godey’s Ladies Book publishing my story would be good for starters.
(She goes back to writing. Beat.)
Sounds like a storybook – all that...fluff you were talking about. You came up with all that on your own?

CATHERIN
It wasn’t difficult. I’ve lived it all my life. So have you...or did you already forget?

AMANDA
I didn’t forget.
(Beat)
“Sassafras blossoms”. I like that. May I use it in my narration? For Godey’s?

CATHERIN
Not too much fluff for you, I hope.

(AMANDA rises, walks over to a hope chest and opens it.)

AMANDA
I need to be more diligent in keeping up my diary.
(She removes a small, leather bound book and returns to the table.)
It’s not a daily diary if I don’t write in it everyday, is it now? You could help me by reminding me every once in a while – when you’re not too busy.
(She opens the diary and a VO is heard of AMANDA reading from it. CATHERIN continues ironing.)

AMANDA(VO)
Diary Entry - August 16, 1862. Dear Diary. This whole agitation about slavery is the most monstrous humbug since the flood. It is my full belief that the infatuation which has precipitated the North into this war is a judgment from God.

Isn’t it plain to them – them being the abolitionists and the Yankees – that our President Davis is a simple, consistent Christian, and a member of the Episcopal Church, and generally and joyfully observed? I believe we are lucky to have civil and military leaders who acknowledge God. The Commander-in-Chief of our armies, Robert E. Lee -

(The VO fades as AMANDA sets her pen down and continues reading aloud. Overlap with VO.)
- who is an elder in the Presbyterian Church in Lexington and is said to be a Christian of the same stamp as Jefferson Davis and Stonewall Jackson sent a special request via the newspapers calling upon the ladies everywhere to unite in support of prayer for peace.

(She closes her diary, sets her head down and falls asleep. LIGHTS FADE. LIGHTS UP. Late morning. AMANDA is sitting in a chair next to the window. She’s reading a letter.)

AMANDA
August 18, 1862. Dear Amanda. A steady rain fell all day. It’s evening now and the rain has stopped. It is quiet. Seems like it’s only been a few days since the fighting nearby commenced at Cedar Mountain. Battles inevitably bring rain, at least I am told that’s what most soldiers believe. Or maybe it’s the other way around. If Stonewall Jackson keeps delivering one victory upon another, I will pray for a flood a hundred times the size of Noah’s so this war may come to an end.

Your fervor and zeal regarding the South’s involvement in the war is admirable, and yet I can’t help but think it is misdirected love. Maybe all of us are misdirected, misinformed and misplaced. War brings misery and this past year, seeing our world in this terrible upheaval, has been an unpleasant experience for me. I suppose it is natural to take sides – to cheer the South and hate the North, to wish our Rebel boys well and spit at the feet of the Yankees. To join in the fray saying, “Preserve state’s rights and leave us our slaves!”. That would seem to be the proper thing to do as sons and daughters of the Old South, and yet is it the moral thing? I’m at a loss to make sense of this entire, abhorrent affair.

Listen to me...going on like a politician or a preacher. My dearest, sweet Amanda. I pray that this will all be over soon. I don’t know how much more our country can take. This letter is short – I know. We are pulling out tomorrow but to where I do not know. I will write more when we get situated. All my love. Yours. Dowd.

(AMANDA moves from the chair to the table and continues writing a letter she has started. CATHERIN enters from the bedroom.)

CATHERIN
I’m going into town for a while, Amanda. I’ll be back before dark.

AMANDA
Are you stopping by the store?

CATHERIN
I am. We’re almost out of coffee, bacon, flour, sugar –

AMANDA
Would you see if they have some licorice candy drops?

CATHERIN
- and I need nails and new wrench...if Mr. Van Ells will let me put them on credit.

AMANDA
Oh-h please?
(Beat)
Fine. I just thought it would nice for a change to have some luxuries in the house, that’s all.

CATHERIN
You’ll have to forgive me, Amanda, if I’ve forgotten what luxuries are.

(CATHERIN exits. AMANDA reads from a letter.)

AMANDA
August 29, 1862. Dear Dowd. I’m fully aware that you feel my opinions are based on nothing more than emotion and an idealized viewpoint of the South. If my “superficial” views on the war or my levity towards it are bothersome to you, do not take it personally.

With that in mind, I can’t help but wonder how none of this might have happened had Mr. Lincoln not been elected and allowed to let his anti-slavery rhetoric rile the nation into jumping headfirst into this bloodbath. Honestly, if that man and his politician cohorts would have kept their opinion to themselves, the North and South would be left to live free of each other and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. What are the people in Yankeedom thinking – hugging the delusion that Richmond will soon be theirs? We shall achieve our independence, and if guided right, shall be far more prosperous than ever before. Never could I for one moment believe that a righteous God would suffer us to be trodden down like the mud in the streets.

By the way, did you hear about the schooner, Minna, which was attempting to run the Yankee blockade? Well I declare, Dowd...those nasty Yankees stole the ship and absconded with 10,000 testaments. What good does anyone suppose those Bibles will do the Yankee soldiers? Will the blessing of God attend stolen goods? Nothing has aroused my indignation so much for a long time - taking the bread of life out of the mouths of our famished soldiers, and giving it to profane creatures who won’t even read a verse or a psalm.

Walt Whitman says, ‘The pervading sentiment or lesson is to be that the only good of learning the theory of the fluency and generosity and unpartiality, largeness and exactitude
of the earth is to use all those toward the theory of character – human character.’ I’m not sure exactly what that all means, but I’m sure that whatever Mr. Whitman’s point is, the North should heed it.

*“This Is the Earth’s Word” from "Poem of The Sayers of The Words of The Earth," by Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, 1856.

I don’t know how I’ll be able to fall asleep tonight now that I am riled up inside. Well, I have been neglecting my diary terribly and I have much catching up to do – so much has happened and if I wait any longer I most certainly will forget everything I have ruminating inside my head. I will close here and say goodbye, dearest Dowd, and I am hoping to hear from you soon. I am ever yours sincerely. Amanda.

(LIGHTS FADE.)

ACT I, SCENE 2

(LIGHTS UP. Afternoon. AMANDA sits on a chair and stares out the window, sipping a glass of tea. A couple beats later, CATHERIN enters with a basket of laundry. She sits down and begins folding. AMANDA glances over at CATHERIN, then stares out the window. LIGHTS FADE.)

ACT I, SCENE 3

(LIGHTS UP. Early evening. AMANDA, alone, sits by the fireplace. CATHERIN enters from outside.)

CATHERIN
This was waiting for you at the store.

(Hands a letter to AMANDA.)

AMANDA
Goodness gracious. I don’t know what I’d do without Dowd’s letters.
(CATHERIN tosses a bag next to AMANDA.)
And licorice candy drops!
(CATHERIN unpacks groceries while AMANDA reads the letter.)
September 19, 1862. My dear Amanda. I was saddened when I heard how a Yankee patrol had somehow gotten lost and ransacked Bishop Van Duren’s home and property in
Winchester – and just a few weeks after he had passed away. Can you believe he was bishop of the diocese of Virginia for more than 30 years? I remember him as a child - he was one of the meekest and most Godly of men among the Episcopal clergy, if ever there was one. My brother and I would make frequent trips to his home with my mother and father for lemonade and fruit cakes. His home was embellished with the finest fruits and flowers. Our visits were always a treat and it wasn’t unusual for our parents to have to drag us home. My mother said that on his deathbed the Bishop said the cause in which we are engaged is a holy one.

Do not be uneasy when you do not hear from me, my mind is in a million places at once. Your diligence in writing me is appreciated and I hope to reciprocate with a whole package of letters in the next few months. I would give anything to spend time with you in a world without this war.

Goodbye and a thousand kisses to my own sweet, Amanda, for the present. As ever your devoted. Dowd.

(AMANDA closes her diary and exits. CATHERIN enters and sees AMANDA’S diary on the chair. She looks around and picks up it up. She opens the diary and reads aloud.)

CATHERIN
Diary Entry - September 9, 1862. Dear Diary. The 28th, 29th and 30th of August the second battle of Manassas took place. At this battle Col. William Baylor was killed, leaving a heartbroken wife and mother and sister to mourn his loss. James Mullen was also killed in this battle. His brother John was wounded before but died after and was brought home to be buried.

On the 10th, little Mary Bentley died of diphtheria. On the 20th, David Bentley died of the same disease at the age of twelve. If it’s not the war that’s causing death, it’s the things the war brings. So sad. My dearest Dowd, I wish there was something you can do to help rid me of the pain this war brings to my heart. If at any time in our relationship, I think now is when I need you most.
(AMANDA enters.)
I was just reading -

AMANDA
I can see that.
(Grabbing the diary from CATHERIN.)

Read more!

Piano in the Key of Mute.

Santa Barbara, July 2008.

Read more!

"4 1/2 Minutes (give or take) to Climax"

Three couples - an older couple, a lesbian couple and a May-December couple - attending a Christian swinger's convention in Seattle are trapped in a janitor's closet by a gun-wielding religious fanatic.
SHORT (2M, 4W, 1M non-speaking)

Official Entrant to: Little Fish Theatre "Pick of the Vine" competition, August, 2008.

"4 1/2 Minutes (give or take) to Climax"

A Short Play (excerpt)
by
Jeffrey James Ircink

© Copyright 2007, Jeffrey James Ircink
4745 saint nicholas avenue
culver city, ca 90230
c: (262) 806-2808
weakknees@gbpackersfan.com
irc_64@hotmail.com
http://jeffircink.blogspot.com
June 2007


Cast of Characters

HUSBAND/WIFE: 50’s – A fun-loving, party couple, but in a very unassuming manner. They act very much like a newlywed couple, but have been married for over 25 years.

LESBIAN #1: 20’s–30’s – She’s the “butch” one.

LESBIAN #2: 20’s–30’s – She’s the “feminine” one.

OLDER MAN: 50+ - Widower, businessman, sort of a good old boy.

YOUNGER WOMAN: 20’s – Young, carefree, no responsibilities.

SCENE:
Seattle, Washington.

TIME:
The present.

(Evening. A Christian swinger’s convention. Midtown Express and Convention Center in downtown Seattle. The stage is BLACK. Two chairs side-by-side are placed downstage center. Throughout the play, each couple will sit in the chairs and talk to an unseen “interviewer” – these monologues represent interviews conducted earlier in the evening. Center stage is a “room” the actors will occupy for most of the play. Downstage center at the edge of the stage is a digital clock – large enough so that the audience can read it. The clock ticks off the “real time” the actors spend in the room, and will pause for the actor monologues. At the end of the play, the clock should read, “5:30” or close to it. Frantic voices are heard off-stage.)

LESBIAN #1: They’re all locked!

(A pistol shot rings out.)

HUSBAND: Keep trying!

WIFE: This one’s locked, too.

HUSBAND: (The door to the room swings inward to the left.) Over here! This one’s open! (Beat) Everyone in here! Come on, come on – hurry! (Another shot rings out. The HUSBAND and five other people funnel into the room. They’re all wearing name tags but are never referred to by their first names. The HUSBAND shuts the door and locks it.) Find the lights!

(The OLDER MAN switches on the room light – a string attached to one light bulb in the center of the room or a small lamp. The clock starts to count off beginning with “zero”. The dimly lit room reveals a medium-sized janitor’s closet. Everyone is talking at once. The OLDER MAN, LESBIAN #1 and the YOUNGER WOMAN immediately begin dialing their phones but no one is getting through. They continue dialing.)

HUSBAND: (To his WIFE.) Honey, gimme your cell phone.

WIFE: (Rummaging through her purse.) I must have left it in the car.

HUSBAND: God dammit!

LESBIAN #1: What the fuck is going on out there?!

HUSBAND: It sounded like gunshots.

OLDER MAN: Pistol shots, more like it.

WIFE: What?

YOUNGER WOMAN: Oh my God.

LESBIAN #2: Someone needs to call the police

OLDER MAN: (Overlapping) I’m trying!

LESBIAN #1: (Overlapping) I’m trying!

YOUNGER WOMAN: (Overlapping) I’m trying!

HUSBAND: OK...everyone just calm down. Let me think for a second.

YOUNGER WOMAN: We have to get help!

(The clock stops ticking, the actors “freeze” and the stage FADES TO BLACK. A SPOTLIGHT POPS on the OLDER MAN and the YOUNGER WOMAN, who “unfreeze” and take positions in the “interview” chairs. The OLDER MAN is 50+ and the YOUNGER WOMAN is in her 20’s. Both are holding drinks; his arm is resting on her chair.)

OLDER MAN: We just met.

YOUNGER WOMAN: We met earlier this evening at the entrance to the convention center. We both came stag...hoping to find someone to go inside with.

OLDER MAN: Singles aren’t allowed in most swinger events, particularly single men. I’d been swinging for about 20 years, and then I found the Lord – got reborn – and I’ve been Christian swinging for about three years, and – well, my wife passed away a few years ago, and I miss it. I miss my wife, too. (Beat) It’s been difficult finding someone who enjoys this lifestyle as much as I do – like Maggie and I did.

YOUNGER WOMAN: I didn’t know this was a Christian swinger’s convention.

OLDER MAN: That’s why I’m wearing this pin – “Swing with Jesus”. I’m not saying Jesus was a swinger. It just signifies that we’re all Christians enjoying the life the good Lord gave us, that’s all.

YOUNGER WOMAN: My boyfriend and I had been swinging for about a year. Then we broke up; he got married and moved away. I was heartbroken – ‘cause I like to swing, you know? (Looking at the OLDER MAN.) And then we bumped into each other –

OLDER MAN: – and we got to talking and here we are.

YOUNGER WOMAN: I mean, really – is there a better situation for two strangers to find themselves in? You let your inhibitions down, have a good time and everything else just sorta falls into place. It’s the perfect blind date.

OLDER MAN: She reminds me of my Maggie when we first started dating. (Beat) Also of a girl I met in Da Nang. Marine Corp. ’69-’72.

YOUNGER WOMAN: He reminds me of my father. (Beat) That’s kinda weird – that I might be having sex with my “father” later tonight. (To OLDER MAN.) And an ex-Marine. Cheers.

(They toast. The SPOTLIGHT FADES on the couple, who resume their frozen spot with the others. As the LIGHTS FADES UP in the room, everyone unfreezes and continues where they left off. The clock resumes ticking.)

HUSBAND: We all have to calm down first – and be quiet. (Beat) Sonofabitch. The last thing we wanna do is let some nut job with a gun know where we are. Is the door locked?

OLDER MAN: It’s locked.

WIFE: Who would bring a gun to a swinger’s convention?

OLDER MAN: A scorned swinger?

LESBIAN #1: Or maybe someone who thought “Christian swinger” was a bit of a stretch.

LESBIAN #2: Has anyone gotten through to the police?

OLDER MAN: I can’t get a signal.

(A shot rings out – it’s closer. Then a second shot – even closer.)

HUSBAND: SH-H! SH-H! Hold on.

(Beat)

WIFE: It’s getting closer.

HUSBAND: Sh-h.

(Beat. The door handle jiggles. There’s an unassuming knock at the door. LESBIAN #2 starts to cry out but LESBIAN #1 covers her mouth. The door handle jiggles again. The HUSBAND motions to everyone to remain quiet. They wait. They hear pounding on another door down the hallway. Silence. The HUSBAND puts his ear to the door.)

HUSBAND: I think he’s gone.

YOUNGER WOMAN: What are we gonna do?

LESBIAN #1: We gotta get the fuck outta here is what we gotta do. (Beat)
These cell phones suck!

YOUNGER WOMAN: Mine’s ringing!

(The OLDER MAN grabs it away from her.)

OLDER MAN: (Calmly but determined.) Hello? Hello? Yes...this is an emergency. Shots have been fired. There are six of us trapped in a – (Looking around.) – a janitor’s closet, I think – at the Midtown Express and Convention Center downtown and someone is shootin’ the hell outta this place. Yes – (To the group.) They know about it. (On phone.) What are we supposed to do? What? (Pause) We don’t know. OK. You have this number? That’s right. Goodbye. (He hangs up. To the group.) The police are outside.

WIFE: Thank God.

YOUNGER WOMAN: It’s quiet. I wonder if he’s still out there?

(A shots rings out.)

LESBIAN #1: Does that answer your question?

HUSBAND: What did they say about the shooter?

OLDER MAN: The shooter contacted the police by cell phone. They don’t know who he is or what he wants. All he said was, ‘we reapeth what we sow’...‘vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.’ That’s all they’ve been able to get out of him so far.

LESBIAN #1: A religious nut. Just like I said.

OLDER MAN: Most everyone got out of the building.

HUSBAND: Most?

OLDER MAN: Three people are dead, according to the shooter. (Reactions.) He’s holding hostages and promises to kill more.

HUSBAND: What’s he asking for?

OLDER MAN: He didn’t say.

YOUNGER WOMAN: Oh my God.

LESBIAN #2: (Looking toward LESBIAN #1.) We should have never come here.

OLDER MAN: ‘We reapeth what we sow’.

WIFE: We’re all gonna die.

HUSBAND: We are not gonna die.

LESBIAN #1: We’re trapped in a janitor’s closet with some pissed off psycho running around killing Christian swingers. What do you think the odds of us getting outta here alive are?

HUSBAND: Better if we don’t lose our heads.

WIFE: (Clinging to her husband.) I don’t want to die here!

HUSBAND: Honey, everything’s gonna be alright. The police are gonna take care of everything.

(The clock stops ticking, the actors “freeze” and the stage FADES TO BLACK. A SPOTLIGHT POPS on the HUSBAND and WIFE, who “unfreeze” and take positions in the “interview” chairs. They’re a fun-loving couple in their late 50’s/early 60’s, but unassuming – not the typical “party” couple. Both are holding drinks.)

WIFE: (To the “interviewer”.) Why are we here?

HUSBAND: We’re new to this.

WIFE: We’re not swingers.

HUSBAND: Normally.

WIFE: Normally we’re not.

HUSBAND: I was talking to my buddy at work and he mentions this couple he knows – the guy’s his cousin – who’ve attended a few swinger get-togethers...and they had a great time. So I mentioned this in passing to my wife – not letting on that I was mildly curious – and she tells me –

WIFE: I tell him the thought of swinging crossed my mind a long time ago but I didn’t dare mention it to him. ‘Course we’ve done things – you know – but inviting another couple into our bed? Never.

HUSBAND: We talked to other couples online who were involved in the swinger lifestyle.

WIFE: Eventually we were invited to some parties, which were really a lot of fun. All the food –

HUSBAND: – and drinks.

WIFE: Anything you wanted to drink. Food, drinks, music – it was like being at a luau in Hawaii. (To HUSBAND.) Wasn’t it?

HUSBAND: Yep. Everyone was friendly. Like hanging out with your neighbors. Regular people.

WIFE: They were all very neighborly. We mingled, got to know people, then groups of couples –

HUSBAND: Foursomes are what they call them.

WIFE: Yes. You go off on your own and the discussions become more intimate...

HUSBAND: ‘What experiences have you had with swinging?’. ‘What do you like or dislike sexually?’. ‘What are you looking for in other swingers?’.

WIFE: And then at some point you just...swap partners. Like a first date...sorta.

HUSBAND: It was a little awkward at first for both of us.

WIFE: ‘Course it was.




Read more!

"the Golgotha crux."

What if a letter existed that cast doubt on the true identity of Jesus Christ? And what if the source of that letter was St. Paul, who, more than anyone, was responsible for spreading and establishing Christianity throughout the world? And what if the Vatican knew about this letter but kept the revelation secret?

Stephen Prosser is a devout Catholic and deacon, respected family therapist, and loving husband and father who has been struggling with aspects of his faith, a matter he discusses with his mentor, Father Benjamin Vox, head pastor at St. Dominic’s Church. Stephen’s wife, Vanessa, abandoned the church several years ago following the death of their 6-year-old daughter, Shelby, and Stephen, feeling the loss of his daughter, holds regular “conversations” with Shelby to help him deal with his grief. Though Stephen and Vanessa are at odds about Christianity, they agree that their son, Christopher, 8, should be raised with some faith until he is an adult.

Feeling unchallenged in his therapy practice, Stephen becomes reinvigorated when he discovers that a young patient, Alec Winston, is an atheist – he’s fascinated by Alec’s choice and why he made it. The repartee that follows in subsequent therapy sessions follows the lines of “creationism versus evolution” arguments and peaks Stephen's attention for two reasons: his long-standing involvement in the Catholic Church, and his sudden "questioning" of his faith.

One day while hanging a picture in Father Benjamin’s office, Stephen accidentally finds a papyrus letter hidden behind another picture frame and confronts Father Benjamin as to its origin. Fearing more harm could be caused by avoiding Stephen’s probes, Father Benjamin takes Stephen into his confidence – relating a story about a series of ancient letters allegedly written by St. Paul that were found within the walls of the Vatican in the late 1860’s and brought to the attention of the current pope – Pope Paul IX. In one of these letters, St. Paul writes that, though Jesus Christ was indeed a great prophet, he was not the Son of God, his sole purpose on earth was not to die for our sins, and his body did not rise from a tomb – thus, not fulfilling the prophesy in the Old Testament. Only a handful of people have known of the letter’s existence, which was kept secret by Pope Pius IX because of the potential chaos he thought it might cause. Father Benjamin found out through a cardinal ten years ago; Stephen is now the next in line to keep the Vatican’s secret. However, he feels the discovery of the letter should be made public knowledge, and is astonished by his mentor’s compliance with this long-held secret.

Stephen wrestles with the moral and ethical questions raised by the cover-up. What would be gained by taking this news to the press? So, Stephen decides to write a guest editorial for the local newspaper on what life would be like if Jesus Christ wasn’t the Son of God. This way, he gets some of the particulars about the Vatican letter out in the open, but he doesn’t actually attribute his article to anything factual. The backlash from Stephen’s article might help him decide whether or not he should reveal the Vatican letter to the press.

With the church seemingly confirming some of Stephen’s religious doubts with the discovery of this letter, should Stephen feel justified – confident in his questioning of Christianity? Or will this revelation somehow provide Stephen with the strength to reaffirm his faith in God? And, will Stephen tell the press what he knows?
FULL-LENGTH (6M, 4W, 1 VO doublecast)

*Premiere stage reading at the Urban Theater Project of Iowa in May 2004.
*Finalist in the Dayton Playhouse Futurefest 2004.
*Semi-finalist in the Wagner College 2004 Stanley Drama Award competition in New York.
*Honorable Mention in the 73rd Annual Writer’s Digest Writing Competition/2004.

This is the first play I wrote - and it took the longest (3-4 years, lost track). I haven't revisited it in some time as I've been too busy working on other plays. It was no doubt the most controversial play at the Dayton Playhouse Futurefest festival and the audience really enjoyed it. When I get a chance to review the adjudicator's tape again, I'll post some of their comments. the Golgotha crux.

a play in two acts
by
jeffrey james ircink

© Copyright 2003, Jeffrey James Ircink
LC: Pau-2-758-362
4745 saint nicholas ave., culver city, ca 90230
c: (262) 806 2808
weakknees@gbpackersfan.com
January 2005

”I don’t know which will go first – rock and roll or Christianity.”
- John Lennon


SETTING
Any town in the United States.

TIME
The present.


Character breakdown

STEPHEN PROSSER – 43, family therapist and church deacon, devout Catholic, an “Everyman”; hasn’t really gotten over the death of his daughter, Shelby – he “talks” to her; he has a dry sense of humor and a positive outlook on life; moderate

FATHER BENJAMIN VOX – 74, head pastor at St. Dominic’s Church, friendly, warm, intelligent, kindly – like your grandfather – but deceptively pious when it comes to being a priest; conservative

VANESSA PROSSER – 43, Stephen’s wife, has a MBA, but has taken time off to raise their child; a once practicing Catholic, she has shunned organized religion, largely because of the death of her daughter; attractive, independent, blunt – but emotional and caring, liberal

SHELBY PROSSER – 6, she died two years prior and appears only as a figment of Stephen’s imagination, as cute as a button – and knows it, intelligent beyond her years, takes after her mother

CHRISTOPHER PROSSER – 7, your average boy, inquisitive, remembers some things about his sister, but doesn’t talk about her much

ALEC WINSTON – 20, college student, has been a patient of Stephen’s for a year or so; very intelligent, reserved, not a big sense of humor, but can be funny and playful in a sarcastic way

RICHARD YOUST – 45, comical, verbose
JUDY YOUST – 48, loud, opinionated
ROBERT WESTON – 52, stoic, intelligent, dry
EVELYN WESTON – 45, quiet, reserved

(NOTE: Double-cast the following character from the four characters above.)

ROSE – Stephen’s secretary (V.O.)


act I

scene i Sunday morning. St. Dominic’s Church.
scene ii Early Sunday morning. One week later.
Prosser home.
scene iii Monday morning. Stephen Prosser’s office.
scene iv Wednesday morning. Father Benjamin’s office.
scene v Monday evening. Prosser home.
scene vi Tuesday morning. One week later. Stephen Prosser’s office.
scene vii Early Wednesday evening. Father Benjamin’s office.
scene viii Wednesday evening. Later that evening. Prosser home.
scene ix Friday. Stephen’s office.
scene x Saturday evening. Prosser home.
scene xi Saturday evening. One week later. Father Benjamin’s office.

act II

scene i Later that same Saturday evening. Prosser home.
scene i i Monday evening. Prosser home.
scene iii Saturday. Early morning. Prosser home.
scene iv Saturday. Late afternoon. St. Dominic’s
Church.
scene v Saturday. Early evening. Prosser home.
scene vi Saturday. Late evening. Prosser home.
scene vii Saturday. Later that same evening.
Prosser home.
scene viii Monday. Late morning. Stephen’s office.
scene ix Monday evening. Prosser home.
Prosser home.
scene x Wednesday. Late morning. St. Dominic’s.
scene xi Friday. Early evening. Prosser home.


ACT I, SCENE I

(Sunday morning. St. Dominic’s Church. Spotlight POPS on an empty pulpit. Head pastor, Father Benjamin Vox, 74, enters from stage right and delivers his sermon.)

FATHER BEN
When Jesus came into the district of Caesari a Phillippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do men say the Son of God is?” And they said, “Some say John the Baptist, others say Eli jah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter replied, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” And Jesus answered him, “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church,
(Begin a SLOW FADE UP on Stephen Prosser’s bedroom.)
and the powers of death will not prevail against it.”
(Father Ben exits. FADE TO BLACK.)

ACT I, SCENE II

(Early Sunday morning. One week later. Prosser home. Stephen Prosser, 43, is lying in bed. He is talking to his daughter, Shelby, 6. Shelby passed away two years earlier and is a figment of Stephen’s imagination. She is dressed in the same Sunday church outfit the entire play – a white dress and black buckle shoes.)

SHELBY
Daddy?
(Stephen doesn’t move. She shakes him.)
Daddy?

STEPHEN
I’m sleeping, baby.

SHELBY
(Placing her shoes and socks on the bed.)
I need help buckling my shoes.

STEPHEN
(Stephen opens one eye and glances at the clock on the nightstand.)
Shelby, why are you up and dressed at six in the morning?

SHELBY
Because it’s your first day at being a deacon.

STEPHEN
That’s not for a few hours yet, OK? Go back to bed.

SHELBY
But I don’t want you to be late.

STEPHEN
(Shelby tugs on the covers and Stephen reluctantly gets up.)
Remind me again, Shelby, that it’s the weekend.

SHELBY
It’s the weekend, Daddy.

STEPHEN
Thanks.
(Noticing Vanessa’s not in bed.)
Where’s your mother?

SHELBY
I dunno.

STEPHEN
(Lifting her onto the bed.)
Alright…let me see what you’ve got there.

SHELBY
My socks, first.

STEPHEN
Socks first. Right.

SHELBY
Daddy are you going to pray for me in church today?

STEPHEN
I pray for you everyday, baby. How about me? Daddy’s need prayers said for them, too, you know.

SHELBY
I know. I always pray for you, Daddy.

VANESSA
(Off-stage. Vanessa Prosser, 43, yells from downstairs.)
Stephen?!

STEPHEN
(To Vanessa.)
Vanessa!?

VANESSA
Are you up!?

STEPHEN
(To Vanessa.)
I am now!
(To Shelby.)
Aren’t I, baby?

VANESSA
You had a phone call this morning!

STEPHEN
(Pause.)
Am I the only person who wants to sleep in this morning?

SHELBY
I don’t know.

STEPHEN
I was talking to myself, baby. It’s called a rhetor – forget it.
(To Vanessa.)
Who was it?!

VANESSA
Benjamin!

STEPHEN
Benjamin who?!

VANESSA
Benjamin from St. Dominic’s! How many Benjamin’s do you know?!

STEPHEN
(To Shelby.)
I know two.
(To Vanessa.)
What did he want?!

VANESSA
He wanted to wish you luck this morning! You know, if you’d get outta bed and come down here we wouldn’t have to shout like this!

STEPHEN
(To Shelby.)
Really?
(To Vanessa.)
OK!

VANESSA
What!

STEPHEN
(Ignoring Vanessa.)
Where were we?
(Finishes with one shoe.)
How does that feel?
(Shelby doesn’t answer.)
You can answer that question.

SHELBY
It feels good.
(Pause.)
I like going to church, Daddy.

STEPHEN
(Putting on Shelby’s other shoe.)
I know you do, baby.

SHELBY
‘Cause Father Ben always picks me up and calls me his “little princess”. And I get to wear my white dress.

STEPHEN
Shelby, I see you in your white dress all the time.
(Pause.)
You know Father Ben’s away on a trip this week, so you won’t see him today.

SHELBY
I know.
(Pause.)
Do you think Mommy will come to church with us today?

STEPHEN
Shelby, you ask me that every Sunday, and every Sunday I tell you…

SHELBY
You tell me ‘Mommy’s busy. Maybe next Sunday’.

STEPHEN
Then why do you keep asking me?

SHELBY
If I keep asking, maybe she’ll come with us one day. Doesn’t she want to see what you do as a deacon?

STEPHEN
There’ll be plenty of chances for Mommy to see Daddy as a deacon.
(Giving her the once-over.)
You know, Father Benjamin’s right – you do look like a princess.

SHELBY
I know, Daddy.
(Shelby gives Stephen a hug and kiss, then exits. Stephen collapses back into bed. To suggest the passing of time – QUICK BLACKOUT and FADE UP lights on Christopher, 7, and Vanessa, who are finishing breakfast.)

STEPHEN
(Enters. Sarcastically.)
What a great morning not to sleep in.

CHRISTOPHER
Hi, Dad. Wanna hear about my dream?

STEPHEN
(Kisses Vanessa.)
So were you up at the crack of dawn, too?

VANESSA
(Motioning to Christopher.)
Morning. I didn’t have a choice.
(She brings Stephen’s coffee and breakfast to the table.)
Breakfast is hot.

STEPHEN
(He sits.)
Thanks.

VANESSA
He’s been talking about his dream since he got up. I think
you’ll get a kick out of it.

STEPHEN
So, sport…lay it on me.

CHRISTOPHER
I had a dream last night.

STEPHEN
I got that. What was it about?

CHRISTOPHER
I dreamt about Jesus.

STEPHEN
OK.
(To Vanessa.)
Doesn’t sound so frightening.
(To Christopher.)
And what was Jesus up to in your dream?

CHRISTOPHER
He wasn’t up to anything ‘cause he was nailed to the cross.

STEPHEN
(Pause.)
That’s an interesting image on a Sunday morning. You won’t be mad if I don’t press you for more details, will ya, sport?

CHRISTOPHER
Nope.

STEPHEN
You know…

CHRISTOPHER
Except that Jesus was laughing while he was on the cross – I forgot that part. Did you ever have a dream like that, Dad?

STEPHEN
No, I haven’t, Christopher, and I don’t think Jesus laughed when he was on the cross. Pass the jelly would you, Vanessa.

VANESSA
(She passes the jelly, glances at the clock, then grabs Stephen’s breakfast plate.)
You’re gonna be late.

STEPHEN
(Grabbing a slice of toast as Vanessa pulls the plate away.)
I just sat down.
(Christopher gets up and starts for the door.)
Hey, wait a second, sport! Come here.
(Christopher stops and walks back toward Stephen. With a dab of spit, Stephen presses down the hair that’s sticking up on Christopher’s head.)

STEPHEN
Let’s not have you go off to church looking like you just got out of bed, OK?
(Christopher nods.)
OK.
(Looking at Vanessa.)
What?
(Vanessa smiles as Christopher runs off. and hands Stephen a donut wrapped in a napkin and a “to-go” mug.)

CHRISTOPHER
(Off-stage.)
Come on, Dad!

STEPHEN
I’m coming!

VANESSA
You’ve got quite the sidekick there.

STEPHEN
Well, you know. Train’em when they’re young and they won’t know any different.

VANESSA
I think he’s as anxious as you are.

STEPHEN
Who said I was nervous?

VANESSA
I didn’t say you were nervous. I said you were anxious.

STEPHEN
(Puts his hand out.)
Look at that…cool as a cucumber.
(Stephen begins to exit, then hesitates.)
Last chance to come watch me set Catholicism back a hundred years.

VANESSA
I’m sure the church can figure out how to do that all by its lonesome.

STEPHEN
Yeh.
(Stephen exits. Vanessa walks to the sink. While her back is turned, Shelby runs past and out the door.)

SHELBY
Wait for me, Daddy!!
(Vanessa doesn’t notice Shelby. FADE TO BLACK.)

ACT I, SCENE III

(Monday morning. Stephen’s office. Stephen is talking to Alec Winston, 20, a college student and patient.)

ALEC
You seem preoccupied this morning, Dr. Prosser.

STEPHEN
I have a meeting with my board of review. I’m – anxious.
(Pause.)
So, Alec. What would you like to talk about today?

ALEC
Haven’t given it much thought. We could talk about the weekend?

STEPHEN
How was your weekend?

ALEC
Uneventful really. Studied mostly.

STEPHEN
OK.

ALEC
(Long pause.)
My car got towed last week.
(Stephen’s quiet.)
No parking zone.

STEPHEN
Shoulda read the signs.

ALEC
There weren’t any posted.
(Thinking.)
Huh. I can’t think of anything else that would constitute as a “highlight”, doctor.

STEPHEN
Everyone has a “highlight”, Alec. A proctologist has a highlight. You have a highlight.

ALEC
I’m alive?

STEPHEN
(Pause.)
See, you’re in the black already.

ALEC
(Pause.)
You know what, that’s OK. I’m starting to get used to the bad-things-happen-to-good-people routine.

STEPHEN
Need the name of a good guardian angel?

ALEC
You mean there are bad ones? I don’t think it would do me any good anyway.

STEPHEN
Got something against guardian angels?

ALEC
Just religion.

STEPHEN
(Pause.)
I see.

ALEC
Sort of a handy little thing to help tie up loose ends, isn’t it?

STEPHEN
Religion? Depends on what kind of loose ends you have in your life, Alec.

ALEC
None that concern religion. Besides, being an atheist sorta has a ring to it, don’t you think?

STEPHEN
How do your parents feel about this?

ALEC
Helpless, I suppose. We don’t discuss it much. I’m an adult. What can they do?

STEPHEN
Well, since we seem to be at a standstill as to what to talk about, why don’t we talk about your lack of a faith?

ALEC
I didn’t know religion figured into your repertoire of counseling techniques.

STEPHEN
I guess I’m partial to the unconventional – as long as it works.
(Pause.)
Being an atheist is part of who you are, Alec. If discussing that aspect of your life helps our sessions, who’s the wiser?

ALEC
Wait a second.
(Pause.)
I’m hearing a faint chorus of “Shall We Gather at the River”.

STEPHEN
(Smiling.)
My job is to get people to talk about what’s troubling them, and it doesn’t sound like you’re troubled about your religious beliefs. But the choice you made – that’s a journey I’m interested in.

ALEC
Whatdaya wanna know?

STEPHEN
“Why” seems like a great place to start.

ALEC
Why not?
(FADE TO BLACK.)

ACT I, SCENE IV

(Wednesday morning. Father Benjamin’s office. Stephen knocks on the door, then pokes his head in.)

FATHER BEN
Good morning, Stephen. This is a surprise.

STEPHEN
Morning, Father. I was in the neighborhood. Um-m…actually I thought we could talk, but I can come back if you’re busy.

FATHER BEN
Nonsense. Have a seat.
(Stephen enters and sits. Father Ben shuts the door and returns to his desk.)

STEPHEN
So how was your trip? Rome, wasn’t it?

FATHER BEN
Oh-h, it was wonderful. Have you ever been?

STEPHEN
No.

FATHER BEN
Do you know that after all these years of going to the Vatican, I finally tossed a coin into Trevi Fountain?

STEPHEN
You made a wish, right?

FATHER BEN
I did. And I’m still waiting for it to come true. So. What can I do for you, Stephen?

STEPHEN
(He fumbles for the right words, yet the words he chooses are spoken slowly and deliberately.)
Father…do you ever – have you ever questioned…I mean, really questioned your faith?

FATHER BEN
I question God every day, Stephen. Even the most pious and zealous Christians question their faith.

STEPHEN
And that doesn’t bother you?

FATHER BEN
Not really. When you spend as much time as I do engrossed in the scripture, religious history and doctrine – the business of religion – one is bound to find discrepancies in philosophy and teachings that lead you to ask “why?”.
(Pause.)
I might be able to answer your question better if I knew what it is you’re questioning.

STEPHEN
I’m not exactly sure.
(Pause.)
I guess I don’t feel like I trust God the way I used to – you know, that I’m expected to blindly put my faith in him ‘cause he’s got all the answers. Look at the world, Father – people are starving and killing each other…there’s suffering, disease, children – not even being given a chance to experience life.
(Pause.)
Have you ever thought – what if religion is some fantasy that the church perpetuates to keep us in check? The whole concept of Christianity isn’t rational thought, Father – you do understand that? I mean if I were to wake up tomorrow and tell the world I communicate with God through my electric shaver, people would think I was nuts. But to believe in one, supreme being whose son was born of a virgin birth, turned water into wine, raised dead people, ascended into heaven – that’s perfectly acceptable behavior. And if you don’t believe that, then you’re nuts.

FATHER BEN
(Thinking.)
That’s a lot for one man to have on his plate.

STEPHEN
I have a voracious appetite.

FATHER BEN
I see that. You know, Stephen, questioning God’s motives is vastly different than questioning his existence.

STEPHEN
I believe God exists.

FATHER
There – we’ve put one question to rest.
(Pause.)
Have you felt this way before? To the extent that it’s bothering you this much?

STEPHEN
(Pause.)
No.
(Pause.)
When my father died – I was 26, and…that was a rough time for me. He’d been sick for a while, so we knew, you know, that it wouldn’t be too long…but you’re never really prepared…ah-h, to deal with him…dying. I went to see him in the hospital – toward the end, and I was looking at him and boom – my entire life spent with my father flashed in front of my eyes. Hunting and fishing, dad playing his guitar, working in the yard – my parents together. We talked for a bit and at one point he came right out and said, ‘Stephen, I need to know that you’re OK with me letting go. I’m ready to be with Grandma and Grandpa. I’m ready to be with God.’ I didn’t know what to say. I stood there – my eyes welled up, and suddenly I blurted out, ‘You’re gonna fight this – you can beat this if you’d only try! Please, Dad. Please, try!’ He said, ‘I can’t, Stephen. I’m tired. It’s my time’, and I yelled, ‘I don’t care! I can’t let you go, not like this! Look at all the things we haven’t done! Do you hear me?! Please hang on, Dad! Please!’ I hugged him so hard – I was afraid to let go. I gave him a kiss on his cheek and whispered into his ear, ‘I can’t let you go, Dad…not like this’. I was crying and I ran out. He died an hour later.
(Pause.)
I know I’m not the only person to lose a loved one, but I didn’t care about other people’s pain – only my own. There was never any conflict between my dad and I – nothing left unsaid. I just loved him so much and didn’t want him to leave me. And when he did, I hated life and I hated God for taking him away from me.

FATHER BEN
But you returned to your faith.

STEPHEN
It took a while, but yeh.

FATHER BEN
And things at home are…

STEPHEN
Fine.

FATHER BEN
I know you don’t like to talk about it, but Vanessa’s faith – it’s been shaken terribly. Could that have some bearing on this uncertainty your feeling?

STEPHEN
Shaken? Father, she has no faith.

FATHER BEN
You’ve managed to weather that crisis rather well…considering.

STEPHEN
It’s…a – I’m still weathering it.

FATHER
How are things at work? Dealing with people’s unpleasantries day after day…maybe that has something to do with the way you’re feeling.

STEPHEN
My job.
(Pause.)
Lots of lost souls whose therapist’s tolerance and understanding isn’t what it used to be.

FATHER BEN
You sound disenchanted.

STEPHEN
I don’t enjoy my work like I used to. I used to enjoy listening to perfect strangers’ problems and offering my analysis. Now I – it feels like I’m going through the motions.
(Stephen snickers to himself.)

FATHER BEN
What’s that?

STEPHEN
Oh, I was just thinking that the highlight of my job is when I see this kid – a patient of mine. We stumbled on the topic of religion during one of our sessions and he informed me that he’s an atheist. I saw that revelation as some psychological nugget – whatever, and pursued it and whenever we talk about religion, regardless of what Christian spin I try to put on what he says, his logic makes more sense than anything I’ve ever believed.
(Pause.)
I try to pray –
(Pause.)– but I don’t understand why I’m praying. I mean even when I dream about religion – I don’t see things the way I used to, the way I’m supposed to. And it’s the same dream, over and over and over again.

FATHER BEN
Well now you’ve piqued my interest.

STEPHEN
In my dream?

FATHER BEN
I’d like to hear about it. If you don’t mind.

STEPHEN
(Hesitant.)
Well…
(Then reflecting – taking his time.)…um-m, the dream is about the crucifixion. I’m standing outside, with all these people at Calvary, Golgotha, however you wanna refer to the place where Jesus was crucified. It’s pouring. The puddles have puddles. It’s dark out…you can’t tell where the sky ends and the earth begins. The people standing around me, sobbing in the mud…they’re just silhouettes. I can’t make out anyone’s face. No one’s talking. And I’m waiting for this big…ta-da, you know? I’m waiting for Jesus to reveal himself while he’s nailed on the cross – something poignant ‘cause…that’s what he does, right? So I wait. There’s nothing. I wait a little longer. Quiet. Just the rain and sobbing. And I’m like, ‘come on, Son of God…the spotlight’s on you’, and then…he starts laughing, and this sadness I’m overcome with turns to – well, I’m not sure; all I know is I’m feeling creepy all of a sudden. And then Jesus says, ‘Why are you people wasting your time in the rain mourning me? I’m not the Son of God! Go! I can’t save you or myself! You are all going to die, just like me!’. The rain stops. The sobbing stops. And Jesus dies. There’s no angels blaring trumpets or heavenly hosts. The ground doesn’t shake. There’s no ascension into heaven. This man is dead – forever.
(Pause.)
Not a popular version for Sunday morning sermons is it, Father?

FATHER BEN
No. No it’s not. What do you think it means?

STEPHEN
(Thinking.)
I really don’t think I wanna know. What I do know is that Christopher’s had the same dream and any psychologist will tell you that that’s…unusual.

FATHER BEN
Huh.
(Thinking.)
Well for starters, I’d suggest doing something to stimulate the religious aspect of your life – take a retreat, read scripture, pray.
(Pause.)
Now this patient of yours – is he an atheist lauding atheism, or an atheist with some void in his life searching for direction? More and more people are turning back to religion these days. He may feel uncomfortable discussing this with his parents and he’s looking to you for spiritual counseling.

STEPHEN
I’ve considered that.

FATHER BEN
Have faith, Stephen. The answers will come to you – along with God’s comfort and blessings. You know, the way in which you help this patient of yours may, in turn, be the same thing that helps you.

STEPHEN
Maybe.
(Looking at his watch.)
I, ah – I should go, Father. Thanks…for listening.

FATHER BEN
That’s what we do, isn’t it?

STEPHEN
Yes we do. Goodbye.
(Stephen exits. FADE TO BLACK.)

ACT I, SCENE V

(Monday evening. Prosser home. The Prosser’s have just sat down to dinner. Shelby’s back is facing the audience.)

STEPHEN
Shall we say “Grace”?

VANESSA
(Looking around.)
I forgot the peas.
(She heads into the kitchen.)

ALL
“Bless us, oh Lord, and these our gifts, for which we are about to receive, from thy bounty through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

STEPHEN
So how was your day, Christopher?

VANESSA
(Re-enters with peas.)
Tell your father what happened at school.

CHRISTOPHER
Tommy Shuck farted during naptime.

VANESSA
I meant tell your father what you did in school today.

CHRISTOPHER
Oh. Um-m…first, we checked our homework from yesterday. I got three stars. Then we finger-painted leaves falling off the trees. Mrs. Weirs read us a story, and, let’s see…we ate lunch, took our nap, and that’s when Tommy Shuck farted.

VANESSA
Christopher.

CHRISTOPHER
I don’t think he knew he farted though ‘cause he was asleep.

STEPHEN
So, did someone tell Tommy he –

VANESSA
Now that we’ve covered the day’s important events – Stephen, anything exciting happen at the office today?

STEPHEN
Nothing out of the ordinary, though I did have an interesting discussion with a patient – a college student – I’ve been counseling for a year or so.
(Glancing at Vanessa.)
He informed me out of the blue that he doesn’t have a faith either.

VANESSA
Yeh…there are a few of “those” people around. You didn’t give the poor kid the third degree, did you?

STEPHEN
No-o, I didn’t give the poor kid the third degree. We talked about it though. That’s what his parent’s are paying me for.

VANESSA
To talk about why their child’s an atheist?

STEPHEN
I don’t pick the topics of conversation, Vanessa. I just listen.

CHRISTOPHER
What does “atheist” mean?

STEPHEN
(Quick look to Vanessa.)
Ah-h…well, an atheist is a person who doesn’t believe in God.

CHRISTOPHER
Like the devil?

STEPHEN
Not quite. The devil believes in God – he just doesn’t like God’s work. The devil used to be one of God’s angels, did you know that?

VANESSA
Stephen…

STEPHEN
Yeh, he was. So…

CHRISTOPHER
How does an angel become a devil?

VANESSA
Christopher, eat your food, please.

STEPHEN
Hm-m. That’s a tough one, sport. Um. If you’re an angel, and you disobey God…then he sends you to a place where all the bad people go. It’s not common for one of God’s angels to act naughty though.

CHRISTOPHER
Could I ever become a devil?

STEPHEN
You already are, sport.

CHRISTOPHER
Did you try on your Halloween costume yet?

STEPHEN
(Not happy.)
I will, don’t worry.

Read more!

Cover of "Stan's Addiction", Heuer Publishing, 2007.

Read more!

"Stan's Addiction"

The time is the future. The place is New York City. And Stan Ranik is the last nicotine smoker on planet Earth.

Earth of the future is a planet with an increased intolerance for cigarette smoking. The world’s governments have banned together to offer large cash bounties to individuals who quit smoking cigarettes and related products (i.e. cigars, pipes, smokeless tobacco, etc.). These operations are carried out exclusively by the world government-sponsored agency, SPONGE (Council for Society’s Prohibition and Obliteration of Nicotine through Growth in Efficient Living), headed up by “The Chairman”. SPONGE’s rigorous campaign to wipe out nicotine worldwide hinges on, of course, the cash bounty, but also a tiny sensor chip planted into the arm of the ex-smoker to monitor any nicotine intake. Any breach in the sensor chip security and the perpetrator must return the cash bounty – in full – and is sent to a rehab clinic where he or she is forced to kick their nicotine habit forever.

Stan Ranik is passionate about sticking to his freedom to smoke. Not only is Stan adamantly against SPONGE’s platform, but he is also against the use of the sensor chip, and is convinced the government has ulterior motives in its intentions. His close friends, Patrick and Stu – both ex-smokers – are constantly trying to convince Stan to kick his habit, but their incessant, trivial banter is excuse enough for Stan that he does not want to become another byproduct of SPONGE’s stop smoking campaign.

In the meantime, Stan meets and begins dating Aubrey Smith. In an attempt to solidify any future the couple may have – and pacify Stu and Patrick’s numerous requests, Stan attends a smokers’ anonymous meeting, after which he gets a call from The Chairman, who invites Stan to SPONGE headquarters for a private tête-à-tête.

Not surprisingly, Stan and The Chairman do not see eye-to-eye on the subject at hand and The Chairman, seeing his passive attempts to get Stan to join up with SPONGE are futile, physically threatens Stan and those closest to him – even hinting that Patrick, Stu and Aubrey are somehow involved in the plot to get Stan to quit smoking.

Given a choice between smoking and his love for Aubrey, Stan feels that it is useless to continue to fight the system and succumbs to the pressures put on him by The Chairman, SPONGE and society.
FULL-LENGTH (4M, 1W, 5 misc. roles doublecast)

*Premiere stage reading at the Urban Theater Project of Iowa in May 2005.
*Published by Heuer Publishing Co. in August 2006.
*Featured full-length play in an evening of staged readings at The Stray Dawg Theatre Company in Belfast, Ireland, April 2006.
*Reading at Manhattan Theatre Source/Bleeker Street Irregulars Theatre Company, Greenwich Village, New York City, May 2007.

"You have written a strong play with a simple, but imaginative concept...the world you have created is challenging and gripping and the characters are beautifully depicted...an engaging play with a captivating premise." – Jessica Corn, Trinity Repertory Company, Providence, RI

“It’s very funny, the dialogue has a great natural feel and good pace. I enjoyed reading it.” – Jenny Larson, Literary Manager Salvage Vanguard Theatre, Austin, TX

“Brilliant! I love the sleezy SPONGE spokeswoman concept – the temptress. Great addition...The premise is fascinating.” – Geri Albrecht, Editor-in-Chief/Heuer Publishing

"I love 'Stan’s Addiction'. The characters are interesting and funny, the humor is smart, the dialogue is rhythmic and engaging, and the subject matter is immediately relevant without dating itself out of future productions...What’s more, by treating the issue with humor, he is inviting the audience to participate in the debate in a non-threatening and terrifically accessible way." – Leslie Charipar, Artistic Director/Urban Theater Project of Iowa

"The smoking thing is very topical at the minute...There's a real Big Brother aspect to it." – Sean Paul O'Rawe, director/Stray Dawg Theatre, Belfast, Ireland

For copies of this play and royalty information, contact HEUER PUBLISHING CO. at http://www.hitplays.com/

STAN’S ADDICTION

A Play in Two Acts
by
Jeffrey James Ircink

© Copyright 2004, Jeffrey James Ircink
LC: Pau3-041-776
4745 saint nicholas avenue
culver city, ca 90230
c: (262) 806-2808
weakknees@gbpackersfan.com
www.jeffircink.blogspot.com
Published by: Heuer Publishing LLC
1-800-950-7529
www.hitplays.com
May 2007

Dedication page
To my family – Jim, Dee and Jason. And to the girl who loves to run barefoot through the wet grass.


Cast of Characters

STAN RANIK: 36, the last smoker on the planet; self-assured, charming and passionate; dry, sarcastic sense of humor; works in sales; regularly meets with friends, PATRICK and STU, for coffee at a local café; the most “normal” of the three.

PATRICK: 37, STAN’S friend, has known STAN for twenty years, ex-smoker, opinionated, very aggressive personality – pushy and in-your-face; uses profanity when he gets excited or angry, somewhat eccentric.

STU: 41, STAN’S friend, ex-smoker; more eccentric than PATRICK, yet comes across seemingly normal; very kind and caring; passive and more of a follower while in the company of others.

AUBREY SMITH: 34, STAN’S girlfriend, lingerie/swimsuit model turned hand model - confident and independent but with a hidden vulnerability, can appear standoffish at first-glance; witty, a woman who can take care of herself.

THE CHAIRMAN: 60, head of SPONGE, a gentleman - charismatic, ability to get down to anyone’s level, conniving, arrogant and self-righteous; he will do anything to further his agenda.

VOICES #1 - #4: Double cast from THE CHAIRMAN, STU, PATRICK and AUBREY. They wear see-thru masks to cover their identity. They are motionless, but the articulation in their voices is animated and real.

WAITER: Non-speaking role.

ANNOUNCER (VO): A female voice heard on a loudspeaker. Proper British accent. She is a tool of propaganda for SPONGE. Calming, soothing, inviting and sexy with a hint of playfulness. Should be voiced by AUBREY – as it turns out, they are one in the same.

SCENE:
New York City.

TIME:
The future.

Act I

scene i Monday morning. The café.
scene ii Thursday evening. The grocery store.
scene iii Monday morning. The café.
scene iv Wednesday evening. Aubrey’s home.
scene v Thursday evening. One week later. CO-Op meeting.

Act II

scene i Friday morning. The Chairman’s office.
scene ii Friday. Late afternoon. The Chairman’s office.
scene iii Thursday morning. One month later. The café.


Author’s notes:
Though this play concerns itself with the last smoker on the planet, the lack of smoking in any of the scenes is not without cause – for two reasons. First, the concept of a play about a smoker you don’t see smoke is intriguing. Secondly, as STAN is the only smoker in the world, the lack of smoking in all scenes reflects the reality of life on Earth in the future.

Keeping this in mind, I have used a staging technique to better illustrate the world STAN RANIK lives in and, with that, a clarification of the terms I am using is essential. “Set” and “scene” will be used interchangeably. As the LIGHTS FADE UP at the beginning of each scene, the actors will be in place - “in character”...minus STAN, who will be strategically placed at various points “on stage” having a cigarette – but outside the actual “set”/”scene” (“set” being the technical term and “scene” being the theatrical term). As the LIGHTS continue to FADE UP, STAN finishes his cigarette and whatever he is doing as noted in the stage directions, and makes his way to his starting position of that particular scene. By the time the lights reach their maximum level, STAN will be in place and the scene will begin.

This device helps to remind the audience that STAN is, in fact, the last smoker and reinforces the loneliness he feels in a world where he is ostracized for being a smoker.


ACT I, SCENE I

(Monday morning. The café. The only light comes from the burning end of cigarette off-stage. SPOTLIGHT FADES UP to reveal STAN RANIK standing on-stage, but out of the scene, smoking a cigarette. A 2nd set of LIGHTS FADE UP to reveal PATRICK and STU, who are sitting at an outdoor café having coffee. The actors are “in character” - each sucking on a Tootsie Roll Pop® and reading a newspaper. The ANNOUNCER’S voice is heard over a loudspeaker as STAN finishes his cigarette, and makes his way to his starting position.)

ANNOUNCER
“Good morning, Humanity. Kunegunda (PRONOUNCED, “COON-E-GOONDA”), here – the voice of SPONGE. Well, the count is now at two. Only two Citizens left until planet Earth is smoke-free. We’ve made great strides here at SPONGE in our efforts to reinvigorate our world for you, your children and future generations.

And for you last two smokers out there - isn’t it time you united with the rest of the world in our quest for a better Planet Earth? We’re waiting for you.”

(As lights reach their maximum level, STAN is in place with PATRICK and STU, and the scene begins.)

STU
(His head in the paper.)
Paper says it’s supposed to be hot the rest of the week into next week.

PATRICK
(His head in the paper, fiddling with a pencil. Matter-of-factly.)
Hard work - being a weatherman. Stick your head out the window and say, ‘it’s hot’, ‘it’s cold’, ‘it’s raining’, ‘it’s snowing’. Stick your head out the window every ten minutes for your updates, and there you go – you’re a weatherman.

STU
I think there’s a little more to it then that, Patrick.

PATRICK
(Looks up from his paper.)
Well...I suppose there is that whole “lingo” thing.

STU
(Beat)
Yeh – the lingo thing.

PATRICK
You have to have a firm grasp of the lingo – jargon, vernacular – however you wanna refer to it. That’s the gist of what being a weatherman’s all about.

STU
Yep.

PATRICK
It’s certainly not about the weather...or your knowledge of the weather, for that matter. It’s all about the lingo.

STU
I’m aware of the lingo, Patrick.

PATRICK
Are you?
(Beat)
Nor’eastern.

STU
I don’t wanna get into this with you right now.

PATRICK
Nor’eastern.

STU
(Thinking.)
High pressure ridge.

PATRICK
You’re kidding me, right?

STU
You have a problem with “high pressure ridge”?

PATRICK
My kid can do better than that.

STU
Well if you think you – or your kid - can do better why don’t you both become weathermen?

PATRICK
‘Cause I don’t wanna become a weatherman, Stu. And Christopher’s only five – he wants to become a fireman.
(Thinking.)
Dew Point.

STU
Greenhouse effect.

PATRICK
Ozone layer.

STU
(Beat)
Rogue clouds.

PATRICK
Doppler radar.

STU
Coastal eddy.
(To STAN.)
That’s my personal favorite.

PATRICK
Squall line.

STU
(Long pause.)
Chilblain.

PATRICK
(Beat)
What the fuck is a chilblain?

STU
It’s an old Middle English term meaning, “cold swelling”. It refers to the distress of the skin due to extreme cold.

PATRICK
“Old Middle English”?


STU
It makes me more marketable.

PATRICK
Marketable for what?

STU
If I ever decide to go into weather forecasting.

PATRICK
You mean meteorology?

STU
No-o...that sounds too complicated. Weather forecasting is what I’m interested in.

PATRICK
Good. So now you can forecast the weather from Sherwood Forest.

STU
It’d be easy enough. The weather in the British Isles is at a constant – a constant rain, a constant fog and a constant overcast.

PATRICK
And a constant blah, bla-blah, bla-blah. Don’t forget chilblain.

STU
That’s more of the effect of the weather, not a weather condition.

PATRICK
Right. Any other geographic Eden’s you fancy?

STU
(Thinking.)
Australia. Nepal would be interesting.

PATRICK
Nepal. And when were you planning to delve into this new career?

STU
I’m not sure. I’m simply preparing myself in case I decide to venture into that foray.

PATRICK
Like your foray into the ham radio business?

(STU pulls a small pamphlet from his pant pocket and throws it on the table.)

STU
I have never lost my interest in the ham radio business, thank you!

PATRICK
(Reading from the pamphlet.)
The Wonderful World of Ham Radio: Your Guide to the Fascinating Ways Hams Communicate©. My mistake.

(Glancing away from his newspaper, STAN throws a couple of stir straws at PATRICK and STU.)

STAN
Hey...Radio Free U.S. calling Friar Tuck and Little John. Enough with the weather bullshit, alright? I’m trying to read.

PATRICK
You made the paper again, Stan.

STAN
I saw. I wish they’d give me a more interesting moniker. “Sales executive from the U.S.” - it’s got no punch.

PATRICK
You’re being particular for someone who appreciates anonymity, aren’t you?

STU
Did they up the smoking bounty again?

PATRICK
Yeh, by 5%. That’s not all. That retired tobacco executive in Virginia – he dropped out. That leaves just two: you and that performance artist in Paris.
(Beat)
God, that is one, fucking ugly broad.
(Seeing that STAN’S confused.)
That’s the woman I’m always telling you looks like a guy.
You don’t remember.

STAN
I remember. I always thought “the guy” and “the broad” were two different people. So what do you hate – her or her act?

PATRICK
Both.

STU
For someone who hates her so much, you talk about her a lot.

PATRICK
I didn’t say I found her sexually unappealing.

STU
(To STAN.)
That’s because she performs in the nude.

STAN
You mean even though you find her repulsive you’d sleep with her?

PATRICK
(Without hesitation.)
Ah-h...yeh.
(Beat)
Look, I know she’s one of the last two smokers in the world. Big deal. Stan here’s one of the last two smokers in the world and the world could give two shits about him. No offense, Stan. I’m just saying that this chick - Eponine or Marie Antoinette or whatever the fuck her name is – has become something of a celebrity and I think it’s a crock because she’s an uppity, little bitch whose “act” sucks - and she looks like a guy.

STAN
Have you ever thought that perhaps it’s the ugly, French woman’s art that draws people to her?

PATRICK
Have you seen her act, Stan? She is her art.

STAN
Have you ever seen her act?

PATRICK
No, but I read about it in Playboy™.

STAN
(To STU.)
Did you tell him Playboy had text or did he figure that out on his own?

PATRICK
(Ignoring STAN.)
She pours Elmer’s™ glue all over herself, asks the audience to throw crap they find in their purses and pockets on stage and then rolls around in it. What the hell is that? And when she’s finished, she prances around the audience
like some fucking coked up Twyla Tharp, coercing people
into sticking dollar bills on her body.

STU
(Overlapping)
I think –

PATRICK
(Overlapping)
She’s quoted in all these pretentious art-house publications about how she suffers for her art and that she wouldn’t have to go through all this – whatever “this” is - if the world would just “get it”. Get what? That she’s a fuck’in dipshit? I got that!

STAN
You curse a lot when you get angry.

PATRICK
What about it?

STAN
Nothing. It just struck me, that’s all.

PATRICK
I don’t get angry that often – except when I read about that fucking French bitch.
(Beat)
All I’m saying is I don’t get all the hoo-ha, that’s all.

STAN
I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. The rest of the world gets its kicks out of seeing people like her plucked from
obscurity and thrown into the world of celebrity.
(To STU.)
Or the rest of the world just wants to bang her like Patrick.

STU
I think her art is a metaphor for how we need to take stock of our lives and shed all the meaningless minutia that weighs us down.
(Beat)
That’s just my opinion.

PATRICK
See – she’s already got Stewart sucked into her little scam.

STU
I didn’t get sucked in. I’m just a little more open-minded than you are, that’s all.

STAN
Atta boy, Stewart – always the diplomatic one.

STU
Hey-y...you’re the last man standing, Stan! I mean, the last MAN standing. As opposed to the very last person –

PATRICK
We know what you mean, Stu.

STU
Tobacco executive.
(Beat)
You couldn’t script that any better. I always thought it funny when that guy starting making the newspapers.

PATRICK
Everyone thought it was funny, Stu – he was a tobacco executive. So how long you figure on holding out, Stan?

STAN
Patrick, you ask me that every time someone bites on the government’s smoking incentive. I’m not “holding out”. I’m choosing not to participate.

PATRICK
Well how long you gonna “choose not to participate”?

STU
Yeh...you got some sort of plan or something?

PATRICK
You gotta have a plan.

STAN
I don’t gotta have anything.

PATRICK
No, you don’t. But how long do you think the government’s gonna sit around and watch you make a mockery of it’s program to improve the quality of life on earth? Stan, it’s not like we’re talking Greenpeace or PETA, here. You’re flaunting this whole smoking thing right in the U.S. government’s face. The very top.

STU
The world government’s face.

PATRICK
Yes. The United Nations’ face. That’s even worse.

STU
In SPONGE’s face.

PATRICK
The Chairman’s face.

STAN
What is it with that guy? The Chairman this. The Chairman that. ‘Oh-h, don’t wanna piss off The Chairman.’ ‘Bow to The Chairman – the monarch of the nicotine-free world.’

PATRICK
That’s because he is the monarch of the nicotine-free world.

STU
He’s the head of SPONGE.

PATRICK
Council for Society’s Prohibition and Obliteration of Nicotine through Growth in Efficient Living. Believe me, Stan, you don’t wanna fuck with those people – or The Chairman.

STAN
You guys talk about him like he’s the pope, for Christ’s sake.

PATRICK
For the Pope’s sake, I don’t think he’d make a good Chairman. Too pious. The Chairman is...he’s a conundrum.

STAN
Yeh, right.

STU
I heard he’s a real...what’s the word?

PATRICK
Prick?

STU
Yah. A real prick. Sits in a dark room. Doesn’t say much. A friend of mine told me he’s a member of MENSA. Uses telepathy to order his subordinates around.

PATRICK
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t say much.

STAN
I’m sure. Get any messages from The Chairman lately, Stu?

STU
Nope. Nothing.

STAN
Well, if ever had a face-to-face with The Chairman –

PATRICK
You would do what?

STAN
I don’t know but I’m sure I’d think of something.


PATRICK
Better be careful what you wish for, Stan. You’re one of only two smokers left – if I were The Chairman, I’d be thinking it’s time for the big guns, if you know what I mean.

STAN
Do I look scared?

PATRICK
I still say your flaunting’s getting you in deep shit.

STAN
What am I flaunting?! When have you ever heard me mock the government – or SPONGE, for that matter? When have you heard me do an interview on TV or seen me quoted in the paper? I’ve gone out of my way to avoid the spotlight. I was given an option and I decided against it. It’s not rocket science, Patrick.

STU
Did you know that there’s no such thing as a "rocket scientist"? There are aerospace engineers, chemical engineers, mechanical engineers, electrical engineers, chemists, physicists, and other people who work on the design and theory of rocket propulsion – but no rocket scientists.

STAN
(To PATRICK.)
Now you know why I smoke.

PATRICK
Stu? He’s a poor excuse.

STAN
Look who’s talking.

PATRICK
And that’s supposed to mean...

STAN
As soon as you got your greedy little hands on the government’s incentive cash you threw away a perfectly worthwhile life, do you realize that? You had a wonderful wife -

STU
Justine.

STAN
(Aside.)
Thank you, Stu.

PATRICK
We need to find you someone like Justine, Stan.

STU
With the personality of Justine.

PATRICK
She had a helluva personality. I wonder what she’s up to.

STAN
I’m quite capable of finding my own girlfriends, thank you and let me finish.
(Beat. To PATRICK.)
You quit your job in advertising – that was the job you had to have when we were in college, remember?

PATRICK
I never said I was gonna stay in advertising forever. Besides, it frees me up for other things.

STAN
Other things? Enlighten me with all your “irons in the fire”.

PATRICK
I have several, for your information. Won’t be long before you see a “new and improved Patrick”, thank you.
(Pause)
I don’t see you ripping Stu a new asshole. He doesn’t have a real job.

STU
I do to.

PATRICK
You collect scrap metal and sell it to recyclers. That’s not a job – it’s a...you’re a fucking tinker, for Christ’s sake.

STU
I prefer the word “traveller”

STAN
Except that you don’t travel.

STU
Exactly.

STAN
Will this “new and improved Patrick” be following a fitness regimen?

PATRICK
What’s that supposed to mean?

STAN
Just that you’ve gained, oh-h, I don’t know – maybe twenty pounds in the last two years?

PATRICK
Come on, Stan...it’s about how I feel inside – that’s what’s important.
(Beat)
Besides, I wear it well. Don’t I, Stu?

STU
You’ve always had that double chin.

PATRICK
I have not. You’re not exactly a rail.

STU
I never said I was.

PATRICK
So I’ve got a double chin. I’ll take a palates class. Other than that –

STAN
‘Other than that’ what? You have no job. Your wife left you. Your children won’t talk to you. And you’ve gotten fat.

PATRICK
But I’m wealthy. And my children will talk to me – as soon as I find out where Justine fled to.

STU
And I’m wealthy. Lotta wealthy folk running around the world today because of the government, Stan.

STAN
There’s a switch.

PATRICK
You could have what we have, Stan.

STU
Yeh, Stan. If you just gave up smoking, you could be just like us.

STAN
Two, unemployed, divorced, fat men?

PATRICK
Wealthy...

STU
...unemployed, divorced fat men.

PATRICK
It’s not all that bad, Stanny. It’s healthier, for one. You get paid a lot of money to quit. And if you start having a nicotine fit, you throw a lollipop in your mouth. Work’s for Stewart and I, isn’t that right, Stewart?

STU
It do.

STAN
Has either of you considered what SPONGE has turned you into?

PATRICK
You lost me, Stan.

STAN
(Sets his paper down.)
You’re morons. All you guys do is sit around and talk about nothing and then expect me to take an interest in it. And if neither of you said a word – which wouldn’t be a bad thing – you’d be swept into a dustpan and thrown out with the garbage.

PATRICK
Name-calling will get you no –

STAN
(Abruptly.)
Stu here can recite the “Gettysburg Address” forwards and backwards while deliberating ad nauseum the premise that if Martin Luther King would’ve used that speech instead of his “I Have A Dream” speech, blacks would no longer be discriminated against because they would’ve, in fact, been freed – twice.
(Beat)
I have no idea what I just said.

STU
The point to that speech –

STAN
(Raising his hand to stop STU mid-sentence.)
But ask him to nail two pieces of wood together and he goes apeshit because he doesn’t know which piece of wood he should nail first.

STU
Like I’m the only one.

PATRICK
(Overlapping)
And me?

STAN
You’re a sarcastic, rude, know-it-all with a mouth like a sewer.
(Thinking.)‘Course you’ve been a sarcastic, rude, know-it-all –

STU
(Interrupting.)- with a mouth like a sewer.

STAN
- for as long as I’ve known you, so I guess you always were a moron, Patrick.

(STAN goes back to reading his paper. STU starts rubbing his neck.)

PATRICK
Thanks for the sentiment, Stan.

STU
Patrick, my sensor chip’s starting to throb again.

PATRICK
(Matter-of-factly.)
It’ll go away, Stu. It always does.

STAN
There’s another thing. How long’s it been since the government said it would fix the kinks in that sensor chip, huh?

PATRICK
It’s being looked into.
(Beat)
Don’t you see how bitter your frustration has made you, Stan? If you’d just consider the government’s incentive program – I mean really considered it – you’d be a happier person. And nicer to Stewart and I.

STAN
I am nice to both of you – and no I wouldn’t.

PATRICK
Yes you would.

STAN
Nope.

PATRICK
Yep. You would.

STAN
Patrick –

PATRICK
Fine.

(PATRICK goes back to reading his paper.)

STAN
(Pause. Puts his paper down.)
All I’m saying is that I have reservations about a smoking incentive that, in the end, has an adverse effect on the very people it’s supposedly trying to help. You wanna quit? Quit on your own, without the government sticking it’s nose where it doesn’t belong. Be honest, Patrick – is the money really worth everything you’ve lost?
(Goes back to reading the paper.)
I’m not convinced.

PATRICK
You don’t have to be. Only I have to be.

STAN
That’s good. Keep kidding yourselves.

(Silence.)

STU
Aeolian sounds (PRONOUNCED, “E-OLIAN”).
(Pause. PATRICK and STAN put their papers down and stare at STU.)
They’re the sounds produced by the action or effect of the wind...like the humming of wires, the whispering of pine trees or the rustle of leaves down the sidewalk. That’s my favorite weather word. Aeolian sounds.

PATRICK
I thought Aeolians were the Greek peoples that settled the island of Lesbos?

STU
They were. I said Aeolian sounds, not Aeolians.

PATRICK
Uh-huh.

(STAN and PATRICK go back to reading their papers. Pause.)

STU
I also like the word, giblets (PRONOUNCED, “JIBLETS”). Or is it, giblets (PRONOUNCED, “GIBLETS”)?
(Beat)
Ever notice how words start to sound different when you say them repetitiously? Jiblets. Jiblets. Jiblets. Jiblets. Jiblets. Jiblets. It sounds different to me.
(Beat)
Or like the word, gefilte fish (PRONOUNCED, “GE-FEL-TA”). It’s Yiddish for a Jewish fish dish. All you gotta do is say the word and you sound like an old Jewish guy. Gefilte fish. Old Jewish guy, right? Say it with me. Gefilte fish. Come on.

STAN
Promise to shut up if we do?

STU
Yeh.

(STAN and PATRICK look at each other, then put their papers down.)

ALL
Gefilte fish.

STU
(SLOW FADE on lights.)
See. We sound like three old Jewish guys.
(STAN and PATRICK go back to reading their papers. Pause.)
Jiblets. Jiblets. Jiblets.
(Pause)
Giblets.
(Beat)
Giblets. Jiblets. Giblets. Jiblets. Gefilte fish. Gefilte fish. Gefilte fish...

(BLACKOUT.)


ACT I, SCENE II

(Thursday evening. The grocery store. LIGHTS FADE UP. A woman is picking through vegetables in the produce section. STAN enters the scene and grabs a small shopping basket on the way in. When the lights reach their maximum level, STAN is in place - browsing in the produce section. He notices the woman and approaches her.)

STAN
You know – that’s kohlrabi (PRONOUNCED, “KUL-A-ROB-E”).
That vegetable you’re holding.

AUBREY
That’s nice.

(She continues down the aisle.)

STAN
Hold up a second. Hold on. You’re supposed to say, “what’s that?”

AUBREY
I said, ‘that’s nice’. Why would I say, ‘what’s that?’?

STAN
I don’t know. ‘Cause you looked...confused?

AUBREY
(Holding up the kohlrabi.)
Fine. “What’s that?’.

STAN
It’s a vegetable in the cabbage family.

AUBREY
Aren’t the cabbage excited. What does it taste like?

STAN
It tastes like, um...huh. I’m not exactly sure how to describe the it. I know it’s nothing like chicken though.

AUBREY
OK.

STAN
Personally, I like to eat it raw, with veggie dip...and salt. Or you can cook it like you would cauliflower, throw it in a salad – however you like. I spent a lot of time as a kid on my grandparent’s farm. I know these things.

AUBREY
Any other vegetable recommendations?

STAN
I’m thinking.

AUBREY
Well...thanks.

(She drops the kohlrabi in her cart, smiles and continues down the aisle. STAN runs after her.)

STAN
So...you...come here often?

AUBREY
If I were you, I’d stick with the vegetable schtick.

(STAN grabs a rutabaga.)

STAN
How ‘bout a rutabaga?

AUBREY
No thanks.
(She continues down the aisle.)
You still here?

STAN
Hadn’t planned on going anywhere. You?

AUBREY
Got a name or should I just call you “rutabaga man”?

STAN
(STAN tosses the rutabaga into AUBREY’S cart and holds out his hand.)
Stan.

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