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Saturday, January 07, 2006

Completely Safe v3

Completely Safe”

01/07/06 (version #3)


CAST

Greg – Male Age, 30 listless

Jazlinski – Male Age, 30 scientist, nerdy

Marcie – Female Age, 28 angry and impatient.

Bob “the Boss” – 45 excitable and dismissive


(Three chairs face the audience, stage center. Greg sits in center, operating a computer. Marcie sits to his left, and Bob stands behind the last chair, leaning on it and looking over Greg's shoulder. Jazlinski is offstage left. Jazlinski wears a white lab coat. Greg sits listlessly staring at computer while typing slowly.)


BOB

(leaning forward)

Click there!

GREG

(stops typing, points to screen, looks at Bob)

Here?

MARCIE

That's what he said.

BOB

(pointing excitedly)

THERE! THERE!

GREG

OK...

(clicks mouse and then puts his hands in his lap. Bob knods, crosses arms and leans back. Marcie leans back.)


JAZLINSKI

(starting offstage, striding onstage)

Good news, everybody!


BOB

This had better be good, Jazlinski. We were right in the middle of something.

JAZLINSKI

Oh, it is good, boss! The Gronel is ready to go.


BOB

Hot dog! We'll make our delivery schedule on time!

(turns to Greg)

Take this down!

(Greg holds his hands at the ready.)

Dear Mister Kim McBernstein; Broot and Rown Industries is proud to announce, ah... no, is happy to announce–no, is excited to announce, no, is... is...

(waves hand in air)


MARCIE

Proud.

BOB

(Agitated, paces and genuflects)

Right. Proud. Thanks. Is proud to announce that the Gronel Swacker GSS 5002 is ready for shipment immediately.

(Jazlinski looks at watch, turns and walks off stage left)

You will be happy to note that we are delivering it on time and under-budget. Making use of technology that, uh... hmm.


JAZLINSKI

(Loudly, Off-stage)

Well, get the fire extinguisher! Don't just stand there!


MARCIE

Fire.

BOB

Right. Making use of the hottest technology available, the Gronel Swacker is capable of producing 150 percent more output 50 percent of the time per cycle than the closest 5 percent of competing Swacker units in a percentile test. This makes our Gronel Swacker, um..

(becomes lost in thought)


JAZLINSKI

(still offstage)

Well, prop the damn thing up! Its probably not going to burn you from THAT end.

(there is a muffled scream)

Did it just burn James? James, get out of there.

(moans)

Stop moaning, it isn't that bad. You big baby. Hold on!

(comes on stage, straightening his lab coat)

We're just packing the Gronel Swacker up for shipment, boss. Hey, do any of you happen to know where the fire extinguisher is? ...And I'm curious about that for absolutely no reason at all.


BOB

Quiet, Jazlinski! I'm working here!


MARCIE

Did you check under the mezzanine stairs?


BOB

(to Greg, who continues to type)

this makes our model more likely to be featured in trade publications in front of dramatic backdrops prominently displayed next to color coded bar charts!

JAZLINSKI

(distractedly watching Bob)

What?

MARCIE

I said, under the mezzanine stairs.


JAZLINSKI

Ah! I'll look.

(leaves room again)


BOB

Believe me, Mr. MacBernstein, your staff will be delighted with the way our Gronel Swacker GSS 5002 squats massively upon your shop floor and, and, and...


MARCIE

(sarcastically)

Squats.

BOB

and squats! No. It already squats once in that sentence. Get rid of the second squat, Greg.


GREG

Will do.

(types busily)


BOB

But now we don't have a complete sentence. You can't end a sentence with an 'and'.


MARCIE

You just did, Bob.

BOB

So I did! Ha, ha, ha! Good one, Marcie!


JAZLINSKI

(there is muffled yelling offstage. Jazlinski runs from stage left to stage right, yelling)

Johnson! You alright?

(yells become demanding)

What? How the hell should I know where your hand is?


BOB

Our engineers have found that the Gronel Swacker GSS 5002 is so easy to use that you can operate it one handed-


MARCIE

(interrupting)

As long as they take shipment of the optional keypad attachment, mind you.

BOB

(nods)

Right. Put that in, too, Greg.

(Greg types furiously)


JAZLINSKI

(backing onto stage. There is now blood on his lab coat and his hair is messy)

You can leave if you want to, but you're going to have to take a personal day, Johnson.

Why don't you just stick around? You can get some work done, and maybe we'll find that hand of yours. C'mon, what do you say?


BOB

Oh. I have a question about packing! Call Jazlinski.


MARCIE

(without actually moving)

Ok.

JAZLINSKI

(to everyone)

Alright, the fire is out, but the acid puddles are starting to eat through the floor and drip into the junior staff lunchroom.

BOB

Never mind that, Jazlinski. I have a question on the packing.

JAZLINSKI

Well, ok, but I'm kind of-

MARCIE

The packing, Jazlinski.

BOB

Well?

(puts hands on hips)


JAZLINSKI

(stares for a moment)

... that wasn't actually a whole question.


BOB

So I take that to mean that we're wrapping it with 5 mil shrink, then?

(a claxon begins sounding)

JAZLINSKI

Yeah, sure. Whatever. Gotta go!

(leaves hurriedly stage right)

BOB

(Happily)

Well, Greg, you heard it right there.


GREG

Heard what?

MARCIE

(sigh)

We're wrapping it with 5 mil shrink wrap, Greg. Get with the program.

GREG

5 mil shrink. Got it.

(types furiously, Bob is pacing and jumping, pumping hand in air triumphantly)


JAZLINSKI

(offstage)

Ann! Ann! It's going towards your terminal! Did you erase the NCF file? HEAVEN HELP US if it gets the NCF file!

(angry woman yelling)

Its not moving all that fast! Go and delete the file!

(woman screams hysterically)

That'll teach us to assume a maximum speed based on current observed speed, eh, Ann? (chuckles)

(woman holding bloody stump of arm runs screaming through the room from stage left to stage right. Jazlinski follows half heartedly onto stage. His labcoat is torn off one shoulder and his face is sooty)

Ann?

(Everyone stops and stares at him)

Oh, never mind.

(Sticks hands in pocket, and leaves the way he came, whistling)


BOB

Read that last part back to me, then.


GREG

(reads screen, following along with his finger)

'...with one hand as long as you take shipment of the optional keypad attachment. We're wrapping it with 5 mil shrink.'

BOB

Great! Now we just need a concluding paragraph.


MARCIE

Put something in about expedited shipping.

(a siren, in addition to the claxon, starts to go off)

JAZLINSKI

(off stage)

Oh. It got the NCF file. Well, that's it, then.

(stage lights dim. Moments later, the siren and claxon stop)

GREG

Hey!

MARCIE

The power went out.

BOB

Did you save the Word file?

GREG

(sadly)

No!

BOB

(crossing arms)

Great. Just great.

JAZLINSKI

(rushes in. Axe in one hand, shotgun slung over shoulder. No pants on. Clears throat.)

Ahem. I think we should leave, now.

MARCIE

(checking watch)

It's lunchtime anyway. Lets pick this up after we eat something.

GREG

(packing papers in briefcase)

Anyone feel like Thai food?


BOB

Sounds good to me! After you, Jazlinski. We're not getting anything done around here anyway.

(glares at Greg)

Right, GREG?


(everyone moves towards the door, following Jazlinski. Jazlinski stops and holds a hand up)


JAZLINSKI

Alright. Everybody be absolutely quiet and it just might not hear you.

(they all leave the stage.)


BOB

(offstage, loudly)

Egads, Jazlinski! What a mess! You have got to talk to your staff about the proper way to keep a shop.


(Siren starts wailing. Loud banging sounds)


JAZLINSKI

(irritated)

Bob, what did I tell you?

(loud bang, lights out.)


Friday, January 06, 2006

WTF V2.5

WTF”

01/07/06 (version #2.5)


CAST

Judy – Female, Age 30 (polite and bright)

Bob – Male, Age 25 (very whiney and speaks slowly)

Ms.P – Male, Age 50 (Gruff, writing as Female, Age 19)

DarkOps1 – Male, Age 25 (furtive)

Easel – Korean Male, Age 20 (English as second language)

Bruce – Male, Age 30 (slimy salesman type)

Police – Anyone, Any age



(Six chairs on stage, in order from left to right are seated Judy, Bob, Ms.P, DarkOps1, Easel and BRUCE. All characters perform object and character work appropriate to their identity and consistent with sitting at computers in their homes/offices, even while others are speaking. As each character talks, they are typing their dialog on their computers.)


JUDY

(acts as if she is waiting. Bob presses a button dramatically. Judy brightens and speaks)

Welcome to ElectroCore Technologies tech support chat room. I'm Judy in Chicago, and I have Easel from Korea on duty with me today. I see your name is Bob. What seems to be the problem?


EASEL

I Easel, is here helped. I am a man!

JUDY

(chuckles)

Alright, Easel. Let see if we can help Bob out.


EASEL

I feel helping!

BOB

(slowly up-speaking)

Hello? my name is Bob? I have a problem? with my printer?


EASEL

Bob! To advance from the printer it is possible the paper? Bob?

BOB

I think... Wait. What?

JUDY

(Chuckles)

Sorry. Maybe I should try. Bob, what seems to be the problem with your printer?

BOB

Well...I can't seem to get anything to come out. It says here... um....

EASEL

I think I know wrong what is. Is the printer which is inserted? Sunspot, custard, with option ten for them all to eat?


JUDY

Easel, I know you want to help...


EASEL

It is, I am Easel!

BOB

Hello?

MS.P

(Interrupting)

(speaking in a gruff Brooklyn accent, somewhat seductive)

Hi, I'm Miss P! I'm 19, blond, 110 pounds, and I could use lots of help!

EASEL

I, Miss P, of your desire the fact that it helps!


BOB

I can't seem to get anything to come out.

(pause)

Did I already type that?


JUDY

Miss P, I don't think you understand what this chat room is all about.

MS.P

Judy, from one girl to another, I think we BOTH know what this room is “all about”.

BOB

(Looks behind him in alarm and then types)

I was wrong about nothing coming out. There is something coming out.

(begins fanning at printer)


MS.P

(serreptitiously rubbing himself)

Oh, yeah? And what are you going to do with what's coming out?


BOB

Its flaming! What do I do?

MS.P

(to self)

This is more like it.

(typing)

What do you WANT to do with it? My perky, firm breasts are heaving as I breath hard in anticipation. My OFFENSIVE CONTENT FILTERED is flaming hot, too! Can you guess what I'm putting in it?


EASEL

Judy, my French is not good so much. Is the attempt of Miss P to help?


JUDY

MS.P, this chat room is for people who want to help each other! You're not helping! Bob, unplug the printer!


EASEL

Yes! Unplug the printer! Bob! Bob! Bob! Bob!


MS.P

(puzzled, pauses in mid-rub)

Alright...I'm pretty sure I understand what the “printer” is, but what sexy activity is “unplugging” supposed to be?

BOB

I'm unplugging it!

(begins disconnecting things)


BRUCE

Hi! I'm Bruce Bankloft, and I have a question for you.


EASEL

I...am a man. Questions! Answers!


BRUCE

(chuckles, speaks very fast)

Of course, Easel. I want to tell you about a woman I know, who doesn't even have a high-school degree. She is making twenty thousand dollars a month from the privacy of her home. I could hardly believe it either, but its true! And now I know the secret. Would you like to know the secret as well?


JUDY

Bruce, I'm afraid no one here is interested. This chat room is for helping people with their ElectroCore products.


BOB

(tries to touch printer. Burns hand. Turns to keyboard)

Man, its still hot! Really hot! Hold on...

(turns back to printer)

MS.P

(rubbing self again)

Bob, don't hold back! Tell me what you're doing; I'm touching my little, hot, 19 year old, OFFENSIVE CONTENT FILTERED, thinking of you!

BRUCE

(typing, speaking very fast)

But Judy, I am helping. I'm helping people achieve financial independence. I have a secret! It really does work, and you can make UNLIMITED income...in your spare time!

(over his shoulder)

Honey, someone is at the door. Can you get it?


DARKOPS1

(hunched over keyboard, darting glances to left and right)

CIA operative DARKOPS1 here. I have the item, and I'm ready to make the drop.

(places Chicken Dance Elmo on table next to keyboard)

Its only a matter of time before (airquotes) 'J-is-for-Kill' tracks the item's radioactive psychic aura back to my secret lair.

EASEL

J is not for Kill. Can you not see what is already typed?


DARKOPS1

(writes furiously on a piece of paper. Reads it, shoves it in his mouth and swallows)

Bruce, I've just sent instructions to have the room cleansed.


MS.P

DarkOps1, I'm pretty sure I understand what the 'room' is, but I am not too clear on what sexy activity cleansing is?


BOB

OK, the fire is out, and the printer is cooling down.


MS.P

(alarmed)

Oh, Bob, honey, what did I say? Don't let the fire go out now! I'm still hot for you!


BRUCE

(over his shoulder)

See who's at the door. They sure are knocking hard.

(typing, speaking very fast)

Well, DARKOPS1, I'm looking forward to that cleansing. But how would you like to make unlimited amounts of cash from the privacy of your home, all without even taking off your pajamas?


DARKOPS1

The Russian mafia laced my pajamas with PCP, LSD and Ben-Gay. Now I sleep naked in a cardboard box on the living room floor. If you were my operator, you would already know that. Are you sure you're my 'op?

(holds knife to wrist while anxiously waiting for answer)


JUDY

Darkops1, if you don't have a technical support question, I'm going to have to ask you to leave.


EASEL

Judy! I am feeling please!


JUDY

(frustrated)

Whatever.


BOB

MS.P, I'm pretty sure my printer is ruined, so... Um.....

(pause)

Could you tell me more about your OFFENSIVE CONTENT FILTERED?


MS.P

Well, did I mention that it's tight, wet, and I've never OFFENSIVE CONTENT FILTERED before? Would you like to be my first? Bob?


BRUCE

(over shoulder)

Police? Uh, tell them I'll be right there.

(typing, desperate and fast)

Folks, it looks like I might have to leave soon. I'm going to post a link to my website, where you can post your contact information. Soon afterwards, I'll be sending you detailed instructions for this opportunity of a lifetime! Opportunity is knocking!


EASEL

Oh, I love jokes of knocking-knocking! Who's there?


DARKOPS1

(putting down knife.

Waving Chicken Dance Elmo)

This is no joke, little man. Bruce, send me the link. I still have the item! All the people I've killed, my criminal and government empire in ruins, my Lean Cuisine Swedish meatballs dried up and overcooked in the microwave AS WE SPEAK; I'm in too deep to quit now!


JUDY

DARKOPS1, I think you do need help. More than we can give you in this chat room.

BOB

MS.P, I would love to be your first. I've always wanted to OFFENSIVE CONTENT FILTERED a virgin before. Just think, if my printer hadn't OFFENSIVE CONTENT FILTERED itself, we never would have met.

MS.P

Yeah. Lets get out of here.

(MS.P and Bob get up, hold hands, and begin walking off stage)

So...you like it on top, or on bottom?


EASEL

Bob! Glad I was to helping you nightly!


JUDY

They're gone, Easel. You can stop now.


EASEL

I think you mean I can stopping now.

POLICE

(Bruce is sitting on stage, back to audience hands behind his back as if cuffed. Police is typing at his station)

This is the New Mexico State Police. We are placing Bruce Bankloft, a.k.a. Uncle Milty, Hugo Ingermann, French McCorkwinsky, and Bull Grapes, under arrest for fraud. The phone number I am posting on the screen can be used for testimony if you want to report additional information.

(force marches Bruce off-stage)


DARKOPS1

They got 'em! We're next! Cover is blown! Signing out!

(stands up, picks up gas can from floor, begins dousing workstation.)


EASEL

Glad I was to helping you nightly, Darkops1!


DARKOPS1

(kisses Chicken Dance Elmo and then sticks it up shirt. Stops to type)

No prob, Easel, my man. Perhaps I will see you at Denny's sometime.

(returns to dousing)


JUDY

(puts head down on table. Listlessly types)

Easel. How would you like to run this chat room for awhile?

(Darkops1 sets fire to computer and flees the stage. Sirens begin to sound.)


EASEL

Honor and obey, in sickness and in health!


JUDY

OFFENSIVE CONTENT FILTERED. I'm going to get some coffee.

(stands and leaves stage)


EASEL

(all alone now. Typing with a big smile)

I feel enjoy as I am Good to grant to the room of chat of the service of of of technical assistance at Electrocore Technologies, where the people meet so that you soaking wetly. I will be Judy, and I will be helping you nightly!


Thursday, January 05, 2006

Plumber's Visit v2

1/5/2006 (version 2)


CAST

Candice – Age 52,

Frank – Age 31

(one-room apartment. Candice, seated on love-seat, holds a plush tiger. Plush animals line up on couch facing TV)

(knock, knock!)

CANDICE

Just a moment!

(Gets up, holding Tiger, walks to and opens door)


FRANK

(bored)

Pep-rally Plumbers, ma'am. 'We're rooting for you.'

What seems to be the problem?


CANDICE

Come in! I'll show you the problem.

(leads Frank behind love-seat to kitchen sink. Lifts plush Tiger)

This is my accountant, Lord Bromley, CPA.


FRANK

(puzzled)

Uh...hello...Mister Bromley.


CANDICE

(irritated. Shakes Lord Bromley in Frank's face)

That's LORD Bromley. He's only practicing accountancy because his family lost their inheritance in a stock scandal...anyway, he says there's something wrong with the garbage disposal.

FRANK

Alright...(pause)..LORD Bromley, lets see what's wrong.

(begins looking in sink)


CANDICE

(puts Bromley on counter facing Frank. Picks up plush piggy.)

Percival Piggy-Pants, my French personal trainer, says it stopped working yesterday afternoon. What's that, Percy?

(pauses, listens to Percy.)

Oh, I don't think he speaks French. I'll tell him.

(to Frank)

He says he was making me a fruit smoothy after our workout, and couldn't get the melon rinds to go down. What? (pauses) Oh, and he thinks you're very handsome and wants to know if you're gay.

FRANK

(reaches in disposal and pulls out melon rind)

Well...(pause)..Percy, I found your melon. Lets see what else is wrong.

CANDICE

(throwing Percy off stage)

Thank you, Percy, that will be all.

(brushes hands together. Looks at Bromley)

Lord Bromley, why didn't you bring Sissy Smarty-Puss with you today?

FRANK

(Rummaging in disposal)

Sissy Smarty-Puss?

CANDICE

His...wife (pause) Lord Bromley where is Sissy Smarty-Puss?

(looks expectantly at Bromley)


FRANK

(presents wad of pink fluff)

I found your problem, ma'am. It looks like-


CANDICE

(interrupting, screams!)

OH MY GOD!!! SISSY! OH, SHIT! Bromley, how could you?!?

(runs screaming out door)


FRANK

(irritated, calls after her)

Listen, lady, I-

(Candice screaming from a distance, growing fainter)

FRANK

(looking at Bromley)

I don't suppose you can write me a check for this.

(Bromley mocks Frank in silence)


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