Week Two, Day Thirteen - "Chet At Lunch"

“Chet At Lunch”
(Part Three of “Dancing with the Devil”)
Written by Joe Janes
1/31/09
13 of 365

CAST:
Sumi, 20s
Mannie, 50s
Chet, late 20s
Angel
Devil
Tyler


(Lights up on Mannie from “Better Than Money” at the counter of a fast food restaurant. Chet stands behind him. Sumi, in uniform and headset, hands him a “to go” bag of food.)

SUMI

Burger, fries and a cola. That’s four dollars and thirty-six cents.

(Mannie counts the money out on the counter and Sumi puts it in the register except for one bill.)

SUMI (continuing)

Sixty-four cents is your change and… (She hands him the one “bill” and opens her arms. Mannie hugs her over the counter. He takes his food and leaves.) Have a nice day, Mannie.

MANNIE

You, too, Sumi!

SUMI

Hi, Cutie, what’ll it be today?

CHET

Well, I will have a cheeseburger, fries, and a small coke.

SUMI

We have a special today. For just fifty cents, you can get a hot fried apple pie dessert treat.

CHET

Gee, I don’t know-

(Sumi freezes, lights shift, Devil and Angel, and Tyler, a nice guy hand puppet, appear on Chet’s shoulders.)

DEVIL

Go for the pie, Chet. They fry it. Hot fried pie, it doesn’t get any better than that.

ANGEL

You summoned me here over pie?

DEVIL

Yes. Chet is watching his weight –

CHET

No, I’m not.

DEVIL

Chet should be watching his weight and, excuse me, who are you?

TYLER

Hi, I’m Tyler.

ANGEL

We were on a date.

DEVIL

I didn’t realize it was “Bring A Date” to work day.

ANGEL

We were on a swan boat ride. I couldn’t just leave him. I don’t want to mess things up with you, Tyler.

DEVIL

I see. Now, you care about messing things up.

CHET

Guys, I’m in a hurry. I really don’t need this, right now.

DEVIL

Shut up, Chet.

ANGEL

Don’t tell Chet to shut up.

DEVIL

Okay, look. Maybe I just wanted to see you one more time before your transfer went through. You look good.

ANGEL

Thanks. So do you. Really.

TYLER

Maybe I should wait back at the swan boat.

ANGEL

Don’t go anywhere, Tyler.

DEVIL

Looks like someone’s a little halo whipped, right, Chet?

ANGEL

Uh! You always have to try to piss me off, don’t you? Look, I’m sorry things didn’t work out. You need to move on.

DEVIL

Yeah. I know. You’re right. Sorry you got dragged in to this, Tyler. You better take care of her.

TYLER

Sure.

ANGEL

Let’s go. Good-bye.

(They leave. The Devil sighs.)

CHET

You going to be all right?

DEVIL

I don’t know.

CHET

You want some of my apple pie?

DEVIL

Sure.

(Lights change back.)

SUMI

Would you like the hot fried apple pie dessert treat?

CHET

Do you recommend it?

SUMI

It’s fried pie. What’s not to like?

CHET

Then, yes, I would (looks at tag), Sumi. Cute name.

SUMI

Thanks. (Writes on a napkin) I’ll bring your order out to you as soon as its ready and, hey, here’s my phone number so you can call me and we can go hang out or something.

CHET

Yeah. Sure. I will. Thanks, Sumi.

(He starts to leave)

SUMI

I like your parrot!

(Lights fade)

Week Two, Day Twelve - "Chet. Later."

“Chet. Later.”
(part two of "Dancing with the Devil")
Written by Joe Janes
1/30/09
12 of 365

CAST:
Les, 50s
Tawny, early 20s
Chet, late 20s
Angel
Devil

(Lights up on Les and Tawny sitting in two chairs near one another. The both wear business attire, but Tawny just seems to make it look intense and sexy while Les looks a little frumpy. Les looks nervous. She looks like every “business woman” who has ever appeared in a porno. He looks like the guy who has seen all those pornos. There is a third empty chair near them. They sit in uncomfortable silence for a moment or two. Chet, also in a business suit, enters.)

CHET

Thanks for waiting.

LES (standing to shake his hand)

No problem, Mr. Baxter.

TAWNY

You were away too long, Chet.

CHET

Um, thanks. Sit, sit. Relax. I know it’s a little unusual to be doing a double interview. Times being as they are, we here at Hammerson and Associates are swamped with qualified applicants and want to make sure everyone is considered. Plus, I think HR enjoys putting you on the hot seat like this. (Les laughs way too hard at this until he realizes he has laughed too hard and tapers off.)

LES

Good one.

CHET

Now, Les, your resume is very impressive. You are very qualified, if not overqualified, for our regional accounts manager. Tawny, all I got from you was a cover letter with a lipstick imprint where your signature should be. I must say, while you certainly present yourself well – gosh you look nice - I’m a little taken aback at the lack of credentials.

TAWNY

Morey said I didn’t need to bring anything.

CHET

Morey?

TAWNY

Mr. Hammerson?

LES

Oh, God.

TAWNY

Morey assured me all I had to do was show you my “strengths” as an employee and I’d get right in. If you’d like to bring me in for a second private interview, I’m open and available.

CHET

I see.

TAWNY

Do you, Chet? (Shifting in her seat) Do you really see? (Chet is obviously attracted to her, but trying to fight it). It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?

CHET

It’s been awhile what?

TAWNY

You look like a sailor lost at sea whose best friend keeps turning into a chicken leg.

CHET

Tell you what. Let’s talk about your strengths. Everyone’s strengths. Les, give me three of your top qualities.

LES

Well, you can plunk me down anywhere in the Midwest and you’ll find I’m already well connected and will quickly develop new connections. I’m good at blowing the dust off old systems and making them work or innovating them. And you’ll find that I really know my stuff. Before selling HVAC equipment, I used to work on them. I’m good with my hands. I’m able to assess a clients needs and make sure they’re getting the right tool for the right job.

CHET

Very well put, Les. Tawny?

TAWNY

Well, you can plunk me down anywhere, too. The Midwest, the East Coast, the conference room. I can blow or suck the dust off anything. I’m good with my hands and my mouth. I would do anything to get this job, Chet. Anything.

LES

Me, too!

CHET

Um, well…I…uh…I don’t know what to do.

(Les and Tawny freeze. Lights shift on to Chet and Angel and Devil hand puppets appear on his shoulders.)

ANGEL

Follow your heart, Chet. You know what’s the right thing to do.

DEVIL

This company’s going down. Chet, and so is Tawny. Get it while the getting’s good! Oh, hey – I didn’t expect to see you here.

ANGEL

Why not? This is my job.

DEVIL

I know, it’s just, you never returned my calls. I thought we had something special.

ANGEL

We did it once. It was a good time. Not something special.

DEVIL (crying)

It was to me.

ANGEL

Here we go. Look, I told you I wasn’t interested in a relationship.

DEVIL

You tell me that after I changed my relationship status on Facebook. How do you sleep at night?

ANGEL

You’re obviously not over me. I’m going to put in for a transfer.

DEVIL

Fine. Run away. Run away like you’ve been doing your whole afterlife. I don’t love you any more!

ANGEL

Love? You shouldn’t have “loved” me at all, you psycho. We never even went out. Men! I’m out of here.

(She exits. Devil stays, sobbing.)

CHET

You should probably be going.

DEVIL

What are you going to do?

CHET

I don’t know, yet.

DEVIL

You know what you should do? Screw her. Screw her, befriend her on Facebook, and leave her.

CHET

I don’t know…

DEVIL

…Please? For me?

CHET

I’ll think about it.

DEVIL (sniff!)

Thanks... Hug?

CHET

Sure.

(He hugs Devil)

DEVIL

Thanks. Go get her, tiger.

(He exits. Lights shift back to normal.)

CHET

Tawny and Les, tell you what. I’m going to leave the room for twenty minutes. You two work it out. Whoever is still in the room when I get back, gets the job.

(He exits. Les and Tawny look at each other.)

LES (trying to be seductive)

If you sleep with me, I'll let you have the job.

TAWNY

Ew. Twenty minutes alone in this room with you? How about I leave and you don’t sleep with me.

(She exits.)

LES

Yes! Using my lack of sexuality works, again!

Week Two, Day Eleven - "Dancing with the Devil"

“Dancing with the Devil”
Written by Joe Janes
1/29/09
11 out of 365

CAST:
Chet, late 20s
Nadia, late 20s
Ping, late 20s
Angel
Devil

(Lights up on Chet holding a glass of beer. Disco ball lights move across the stage. We hear loud generic dance music. He stands as if he is watching the dance floor. Nadia, hotly dressed and drinking a something-tini, comes over and stands near him. He notices. She is lightly bopping to the music, also watching the dance floor.)

CHET

Hi.

NADIA

What?

CHET

I said, “hi.”

NADIA

Oh.

(Ping comes over and stands on the other side of Chet. She is smaller than Nadia and more conservatively dressed. She drinks bottle water and watches the dance floor. She, too, is lightly bopping to the music.)

PING

I hate places like this.

CHET

What?

PING

I hate places like this.

CHET

Then why are you here?

PING

I like to dance. What are you going to do? (Pause) What’s your name?

CHET

Chet.

PING

I’m Ping.

CHET

Ping?

PING

Yeah. Ping.

CHET

Is that some silly nickname with a really good story?

PING

No.

CHET

Oh.

PING

Do you like to dance, Chet?

(Nadia glances over and notices them talking.)

CHET

No.

PING

Then why are you here?

CHET (glancing over at Nadia)

Well… I…um…I’m in town for business. Didn’t want to be holed up in my hotel room all night. Just bored, I guess.

PING

Or lonely?

CHET

Or lonely.

NADIA

I came here to party. And get laid. I’m Nadia.

CHET

Hi, Nadia.

NADIA

Are you married, Chet?

CHET

No.

NADIA

Too bad.

CHET

Why too bad?

PING

Because married guys don’t come with strings attached.

NADIA

If you were married, I would totally do you. I wouldn’t have to worry about you hounding me.

CHET

I am from out-of-town. I may never be here ever, again. That’s got to count for something.

NADIA

It might.

PING

Guess it depends on what you want, Chet. You want to get laid or find someone special?

CHET

Getting laid would be special. Been awhile.

NADIA

She means do you want a hot, rocking one night stand or get saddled with one person over a long boring period of time?

CHET

Both?

NADIA

Not an option.

PING

Pick one.

CHET

I – I – I don’t know.

(The music quickly stops. Nadia and ping freeze. A spotlight hits Chet. Angel and Devil hand puppets pop up on his shoulders.)

ANGEL

Oh, Chet. A one-night stand is like a meal at a fast food restaurant. You’ll eat it and then regret it. You want something more nourishing that will last much longer.

DEVIL

Nothing wrong with grabbing a slice of pizza every once in awhile, Chet. You don’t know if this Ping thing is going to last or even if she’s good in the sack. An hour from now, you could be bobbing for boobies with Nadia, or drinking coffee and talking about ex-boyfriends and cats with Ping.

ANGEL

What’s wrong with a nice conversation?

DEVIL

Nothing, as long as you’re naked and talking dirty. But you’re not going to get that. The whole time Ping’s going on about how much she loves the Food Network, you’re going to be faking interest and wishing you were nailing Nadia.

ANGEL

Nadia fakes her orgasms.

DEVIL

Who cares, as long as yours is real?

ANGEL

Go for Ms. Right.

DEVIL

Go for Ms. Right Now.

CHET

Okay!

(The Angel and Devil disappear. Everything resumes as it was.)

NADIA

Okay, what?

CHET

I want to sleep with you! (Turns to Ping.) Sorry.

PING

Yeah. You are.

(She exits.)

CHET

We can go to my hotel room. I have Cinemax. And room service.

NADIA (sees someone)

Oh, hey, gotta go-

CHET

What? Where are you going?

NADIA

My boyfriend just walked in. (She walks off) Randy! Randy!

(Chet stands alone looking dejected. The Angel and Devil reappear on Chet’s shoulders, this time, the lights and music continue.)

ANGEL

Sorry it didn’t work out, Chet.

DEVIL

Yeah, Dude. That sucks.

ANGEL

Look at the bright side.

DEVIL

Yeah, Chet. Look at the bright side.

ANGEL

We’re here to keep you company.

DEVIL

Yeah, man. You know, I like how the disco lights bounce off your halo.

(Devil starts to make is way across Chet’s shoulders over to the Angel.)

ANGEL

Really? It’s new.

DEVIL

I usually don’t like ‘em, but, looks good on you.

ANGEL

I just got it. I like your tail. It’s all pointy.

DEVIL

You bet it is. Long, too.

ANGEL

This music is nice.

DEVIL

Yeah. I kind of dig it.

ANGEL

Do you like to dance?

DEVIL

I like to fuck. (The Devil hand puppet takes the Angel puppet from behind and they have quick, loud hand puppet sex.) You like that? You like that?

ANGEL

Yes! Oh, yes!

CHET

Well, at least somebody’s getting laid.

DEVIL

Who’s your savior? Who’s your savior?

ANGEL
You are! You are!

(Lights fade)

Week Two, Day Ten - "Neighbors"

Neighbors
Written by Joe Janes
1/28/09
10 of 365

CAST:
Jason, 30s
Kevin, 20s
Renee, 20s

(Lights up on Jason’s small apartment. Dressed in his modest business casual from work, he is carefully walking a hot bowl of tomato soup from the kitchen to a small table in the living room. He sets the bowl down and begins to eat. He sips away, slowly, spoonful after spoonful. All he is doing is quietly eating his soup. Offstage, from another apartment, we hear loud modern female country music start playing. Jason looks perturbed, but continues eating. Suddenly, the music stops cold.)

KEVIN (off)

Goddammit, Renee, I was listening to that!

RENEE (off)

Turn it the fuck down, Kevin! You’ll wake the baby!

KEVIN (off)

I’ll listen to it however the fuck loud I want. (Music comes back on. Goes back off. Comes back on. Goes back off. We hear a slap. Jason looks shaken.) Oh, what, a big baby. Whatcha gonna do? Call the police? Oh, that’s right, you can’t. Your fuckin’ phone’s been turned off.

(Jason gets up and slowly walks towards the wall where the yelling is coming from.)

RENEE (off)

You bastard! I may not have a phone, but we’ve got neighbors who have phones. Plenty of them!

KEVIN (off)

Oh, that’s a great fuckin’ idea. Let’s get the neighbors to call the police. (He starts pounding on the wall.) Hey! Neighbor! Hey, Buddy! Getting an earful? Call the fucking police. Do it, buddy! Do it! Do me a favor and call the fucking police!

JASON (meekly)

Uh…num, no, thank you.

KEVIN (off)

What? Speak the fuck up! I can’t hear you?

JASON

No, thank you!

KEVIN (off, laughing)

See that, Renee. He don’t want to call the police. He’s got better things to do. Don’t you, Neighbor!

JASON (more to himself)

I have soup.

RENEE (off)

Fuck you, Kevin. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. I’m getting the fuck out of here. I’m taking the baby and I’m leaving.

KEVIN (off)

Fine, get the fuck out of here! See if I care.

RENEE (off)

Fine, fuckface.
(She slams the door.)

KEVIN (off)

Tell your bitch queen mom I said hi and to go fuck herself, too!

(Jason still stands looking startled. We hear her foot steps go down the hall until she knocks on Jason’s apartment door on the opposite side of the stage. Jason moves towards the door, but is frozen. She knocks a few times until…)

RENEE (off)

Hello? …I know you are in there…I can see you through the peephole…

JASON

Who is it?

RENEE (off)

Let me in, please. I’m your neighbor. I need to use your phone….Please…

JASON (opens door)

Hi.

RENEE (entering)

Thank, God. Thank you. Whew! I’m sorry you had to hear all that.

JASON

Oh, you know. Couples have their little spats.

(The female country music starts blaring, again.)

RENEE

Wow, that’s fucking loud. Excuse me, I mean, that’s effing loud. I’m Renee.

JASON

Jason.

RENEE

Hi, Jason. Nice to be out of asshole central. I mean, a-hole central.

JASON

Shouldn’t you have a baby with you?

RENEE

Aw, shit.

(She quickly exits and runs back to her apartment. Jason stands still in his apartment, listening. The music cuts off.)

KEVIN (off)

Well, well, well, lookie whose come crawling’ back. You broke a record, that time!

RENEE (off)

Cram it, Kevin! I just came to get the baby!

KEVIN (off)

Maybe the baby don’t want to go!

RENEE (off)

The baby wants to go. Our baby can’t stand you. Our baby thinks you’re an asshole, asshole!

(She slams the door.)

KEVIN (off)

Bitch!

(Music starts up, again. Renee makes her way back in to Jason’s apartment carrying one of those car seat/carriers with the baby inside.)

RENEE

It’s okay, Travis. Mommy’s here and Jason’s here. Everything’s going to be fine, now.

JASON

The phone’s in the kitchen.

RENEE

…good…?

JASON

Aren’t you going to call the police?

RENEE

Oh, heck, no. Be more trouble than it’s worth. Kevin needs his job.

JASON

But he hit you.

RENEE

He what? Kevin? Kevin didn’t hit me.

JASON

But I heard it. Loud and clear. A big slap

RENEE

I hit Kevin. And then he went and threw a hissy fit. His bark’s way worse than his bite.

(The music stops abruptly, again.)

KEVIN (off)

Hey, neighbor. Hey! Sorry about the yelling! Hey, you there? You hear me?

JASON

Yes! I hear you.

KEVIN (off)

I said I was sorry about all the yelling. Me and the missus, you know. We just go at it sometimes. Don’t mean nothing. We love each other; we just don’t seem to like each other very much. You know? I said, you know?

JASON

Yeah, I know. Sure.

KEVIN (off)

My name’s Kevin… What’s your name?

JASON

Jason.

KEVIN (off)

Any way, Jason. It’s nice to meet you. You sound like a good man. Just wanted to say I’m sorry to be bothering you. My gal, she’s special. I’ll love her till the day I die.

RENEE

Oh, Kevin!

KEVIN (off)

Renee? What the fuck are you doing over there? (Kevin slams the door and run/stomps over to Jason’s apartment while yelling at Renee and bursts in. He and Renee get in to an unintelligible nose-to-nose shouting match with the baby being held between them. Jason grabs his bowl of soup and makes his way out the door. The yelling continues until we hear the female country music start up again. Kevin and Renee stop yelling for a second, look around, and then start yelling at each other, again. Lights fade.)

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Week Two, Day Nine - "Better Than Money"

“Better Than Money”
Written by Joe Janes
1/27/09
9 of 365

CAST:
Louis, 50s
Mannie, 50s
Tobey, 60s

(Lights up on a dive bar. Louis, a little stocky, is restocking bottles of beer into a cooler. The Buscemi-like Mannie sits at the end of the bar nursing a beer. A bar stool or two down from him is Tobey, who wears her graying hair up in a beehive. It’s present day, but if you went by the way they were dressed you might think they were a few decades behind.)

LOUIS

Sure are nursing the hell out of that beer, Mannie.

MANNIE

Yep. Yep. I guess I am.

TOBEY

Wants to make sure he tastes every drop, right, Mannie?

MANNIE

Ha. That’s a funny one, Tobey.

TOBEY

Who can blame him since you raised your prices a buck?

LOUIS

Hey, times are tough. And I ain’t raised my prices in ten years. I was due.

MANNIE

Sure. Sure. You was due. No one can blame you. My wife is blaming you. She’s pissed.

LOUIS

I raise my prices and Estelle is pissed. Estelle never steps foot in here.

MANNIE

I know. I know. Women, right?

TOBEY

Estelle controls the purse strings.

MANNIE

I have a weekly beer budget.

LOUIS

The old lady put you on a monthly beer budget? Ain’t that something? I feel honored that my bar is a budget item.

MANNIE

Yeah, that’s something. It is. Thing is, your prices went up at exactly the same time my beer budget went down.

TOBEY

Estelle cut your beer bucks? No way.

MANNIE

20% budget cut all across the board. We have to pay less on everything. Groceries, movies, cable, prescription medicine. Everything.

LOUIS

Pains me to hear that, Mannie. You didn’t hear it from me, but you drinking less, probably a good thing.

MANNIE

I getcha. I getcha. (Finishes beer) How much do I owe you?

LOUIS

Four bucks.

MANNIE

Okay. Okay. Um, here.

(Mannie lays down three one-dollar bills and a coupon-looking piece of paper)

TOBEY

What the hell is that?

MANNIE

It’s money.

LOUIS

No, it ain’t.

MANNIE

It’s as good as money.

LOUIS

“Good for one hug.” This a joke?

MANNIE

I’m good for it, Louis. (Pause) Just hear me out.

LOUIS

I listen better with money in my hand.

MANNIE

If I pay you another dollar, a real dollar, I won’t be able to tip or pay for another beer.

LOUIS

You’re really making me cry, here, Mannie.

MANNIE

If I can’t pay for another beer, then I have to go home. Don’t make me go home, Louis. To Estelle. To the TV. To the…talking.

LOUIS

And you think a hug from you is worth a dollar? The bank don’t take hugs.

MANNIE

Well, if you don’t want a hug. I have other things. (Flips through coupons) 10-Minute back rub, foot massage, a big smooch-

LOUIS (snatching stack)

What the hell are these?

MANNIE

My money!

LOUIS

It ain’t money. (Reads one) They’re “love” coupons.

TOBEY
Love coupons?

MANNIE

I bought ‘em for Estelle a few years ago on A Valentine’s Day. To spice up our marriage. Didn’t work, but I thought they might make for good barter.

LOUIS

This is what you bring to barter?

MANNIE

Had to be something Estelle wouldn’t miss. She won’t miss these.

TOBEY

They’re sweet. Estelle didn’t use any?

MANNIE

She used one. “Romantic Dinner for Two.” She made me take her to Olive Garden.

TOBEY (sincerely)

The gal’s got class.

LOUIS

A relaxing bubble bath?

MANNIE

Sure, why not? You come over and I’ll make you a bubble bath. Nice one. Hot, but not too hot. Estelle’s got these things called bath bombs. They’re fizzy.

LOUIS

If I wanted to take a bubble bath, I’d do it at home.

TOBEY

Really?

LOUIS

Well, you know, I’d have to clean the tub first. Maybe use laundry detergent for the bubbles.

TOBEY

Let me see that one…(Louis hands Tobey one). Louis, I would like to buy this one from you for one dollar.

LOUIS

Make it a buck fifty.

TOBEY (rolling eyes)

Fine.

(She pays him)

MANNIE

Thanks, Tobey.

TOBEY

Shut up and give me a hug, Mannie. (Mannie walks over to Tobey. She hands him the coupon and he hugs her in a very tender, non-sexual way. Both are moved by this.) That was worth a buck fifty, Louis. You should try one.

MANNIE

When was the last time anyone gave you a hug, Louis?

LOUIS

Never you mind.

MANNIE

Can I get another beer?

LOUIS

Only if you pay first. (Mannie counts out four dollars on the bar. Louis pushes one of the dollars back and picks up one of the coupons. He pours Mannie a beer) Been a long time since I had a hug. Been even longer since I had a foot massage.

(Lights fade)

Week Two, Day Eight - "Pushing the Envelope"

Pushing the Envelope
Written by Joe Janes
1/26/09
8 of 365

CAST:
Trey Vanbetheysen III, late 30s - early 40s


(Lights up on Trey. A thin, pale man in dark clothing. A black mock turtleneck and a dark tweed sports coat. He sits at a small table with a cup of Starbucks coffee. He is speaking to someone in the direction of the audience. There is more than just a slight sir of superiority about him.)

TREY

You want to know about my life in the theatre. Well, what shall I tell you? Currently, Trey Vanbetheysen III’s plate is full and overflowing. The food on my plate is messy, expressive and busy. But I love it. Relish it. Wouldn’t trade any of it. There are theater people in Ethiopia who don’t get to do half of what I do. The biggest leg of mutton I’m trying to gobble up is a dramatic play I wrote and will direct starring one John Malkovich. A brilliant story masterfully woven. It really pushes the envelope. My intention is to push the envelope. In fact, it’s titled, Pushing the Envelope. It’s about a Depression-era Italian immigrant farmer with no arms. He must get an envelope to the post office to be stamped and mailed. As he struggles pushing the envelope along a dirt road and to the city with his nose, he reveals the mystery and pathos and sheer brute angst that is his life through a series of gripping monologues. What does the envelope contain? Is it a check for the bank to keep his farm from being foreclosed? Is it a love letter to his wife in Rome begging her to come to small town Midwest America? Is it his last will and testament as we discover he his dying from a terminal disease? We are led to believe it is the RSVP to a wedding invitation. His own daughter’s wedding. His dream is to give her away, but he cannot because he has no arms, you see. The stuff guts are wrenched from. It’s not a tearjerker; it’s a tear gusher. Tears will gush from their ducts and flow like a burst damn from audience to stage. In the end, after three engrossing hours – the first hour, completely silent, by the way - he finally arrives at the post office, knees bloodied, nose and chin shredded by dirt and stone, only to discover it’s a national holiday and the post office is closed. Columbus Day. Who was also Italian. Oh, delicious irony. His son will never get that college tuition and will end up a struggling farmer like his father. Oh. Could you not tell anyone that last part? I didn’t ruin it for you, I promise. It’s all in how the story is told any way. It’s like Shakespeare. You know how they’re all going to end, but you enjoy the journey just the same.

No, no, no, no. …You’re not in theater, are you? He can’t just carry the envelope in his mouth. Don’t you see? It’s all monologues. He needs to speak. Plus, it’s called Pushing the Envelope, not Mouthing the Envelope. I suppose he could carry it for the first hour, but then it wouldn’t be a whole hour. Probably best just to leave art to the artists.

PTE will put me firmly on the map. My forte, what I have a reputation for, is musicals based on tragedy. 9/11, Bhopol, Chernobyl, Katrina. I wrote Titanic – The Musical, but not the one that you may have heard of. Mine was an improvement on that one. I saw it and said to myself, “Trey, this is shit. You can do better. And I did.” My first act ends with a stirring emotional upheaval via a duet between the iceberg and the hole in the boat. (sings) We weren’t meant to be/But how can we resist/Steel and ice at sea/We should not exist!...A twist of fate/ A twist of steel/A destined date/The captain’s wheel - spi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-ns out of control… Too Andrew Lloyd Webber? I get that a lot. Hell, I’ll take the comparison. Puts me in good company.

You may have heard about one I wrote and almost starred in about Johnstown – the great flood of 1889, called Merrily We Drown. It was optioned and workshopped for Off Off (off) Broadway. Ultimately, the investors didn’t have faith that we could effectively pull off the title song and closing number, the grand finale. All the townfolk and a few of their horses, underwater, dead, singing and synchronized swimming while being swept away in a funnel. Esther Williams meets Our Town meets The Wizard of Oz meets an equestrian show. Brilliant. Some day. Some day.

My longest running production here in Chicago was a remount of a musical extravaganza I created in college. Myself and a few of my gang o’ thieves remounted it here in the old Zebra Crossing space. A time travelling sci-fi musical murder mystery starring Anne Frank called Panic in the Attic. It’s one of the few tragic-based musicals in my cannon that has a happy ending. Anne escapes from the Nazis in her time machine and lands in America in the 80’s, changes her name to Winona Ryder and falls in love with Christian Slater. They live happily ever after. Sorry, I get a little choked up when I think about PITA.

Pushing the Envelope? Well, baring any complications, we hope to go into production in the fall. Right now, we’re waiting for Mr. Malkovich to get back to us on the script. I have it on good authority that the play is in his mailbox at the Steppenwolf and he is aware of its existence. Confidentially, I’ve heard he can be a handful to direct, but I’m not worried. I’m not afraid to direct via iron fisting. I’m not afraid of Sir John Malkovich. I once told Dustin Hoffman I thought his work was shit…I call it as I see it. He ignored me. Or didn’t hear me. It was a crowded room. Music playing.

So, you see, with the demands of my theatrical life, I need a flexible schedule. Your health insurance is also very attractive to me. And, I’m not sucking up to you here; I really do enjoy your coffee. Lord knows how many thousands of dollars a year I have given to your fine corporation. Least you could do is throw me a little bone of employment. You’d never have to worry about me running out of black mock turtleneck shirts.

(He gets up and readies to leave.)

Well, do let me know. I have other people who have expressed interest in my services. Oh, and – this is in no way a bribe, you have very striking eyes - if you are interested in theater, I could get you up on the stage in one of my productions. You won’t even have to audition. (confidentially leans in) Malkovich will need an understudy.

(Lights fade)

MOUSTACHE-A-THON UPDATE!

Thank you Beata and Jenny for contributing to the cause. I still need to raise $880 to reach my goal of $1,000. All the money goes to 826-CHI, an educational non-profit. Any amount you can donate is welcome and will make a difference. You can support the cause by sponsoring my and my 'stash Zed by clicking HERE. Thanks.

Week One, Day Seven - "Babies Are Assholes"

Babies Are Assholes
Written by Joe Janes
1/25/09
7 of 365

CAST:
GUNNAR, 20’s
STACY, 20’s
DRUMMER
KEYBOARDIST

(Lights up on Stacy and Gunnar. They are a young, hip fashionable rock and roll couple sitting on the sofa of his living room. He strums an electric guitar as she curls up next to him.)

STACY

I’m glad you finally got to meet my parents, Gunnar.

GUNNAR

I’m glad you finally got to meet my guitar, Stacy.

STACY

I like your guitar.

GUNNAR

My guitar likes you, too.

STACY

My parents really liked you.

GUNNAR

Ned and Felicia are pretty cool, in a parent-y sort of way.

STACY

We have so much in common.

(Gunnar nods. long pause)

STACY

We should probably start thinking about the future.

GUNNAR

You mean, like, spaceships?

STACY

I mean like maybe us getting married some day. Or maybe just living together.

GUNNAR

Marriage is cool. Living together is cool, too. We could do both.

STACY

And we could start a family.

GUNNAR

What?

STACY

You know, have a baby, or two.

GUNNAR

No way. Unh-uh. I hate children.

STACY

But Gunnar, they wouldn’t be just any children. They would be our children.

GUNNAR

I’d like ‘em better if they weren’t.

STACY

But, Gunnar. Why?

GUNNAR

Why? I’ll tell you why…

(slow and melodic, accompanied by his electric guitar)

They come in to this world a bundle of sweet joy
Like a baby Godzilla - they eat and destroy
They stretch out your vagina to the size of a hat
While my wallet shrinks down to the size of a gnat

All they do is eat and puke and drool and cry and poo,
They’ll never clearly tell you what they want you to do
The baby is your schedule, all your sleep is gone
What is it about babies that makes them carry on?

(A drummer and keyboardist join in and the tune kicks into a high energy rock and roll Me First and the Gimmee Gimmees sort of ditty.)

CHORUS (GUNNAR AND BAND)

Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Just shut the fuck up

GUNNAR

You have to keep them warm, you have to keep them dry,
They don’t come with instructions or any helpful guide
You have to take them with you wherever you go
Their head is so big cuz of their massive ego

They don’t care about the plans you make
All they do is take and take and take
They pay you back in stinky diapers,
I’d rather raise a nest of vipers

CHORUS (GUNNAR AND BAND)

Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Just shut the fuck up

Babies are assholes (you already ate)
Babies are assholes (I’m watching TV)
Babies are assholes (It’s all about you)
Wah, wah, wah!

(BRIDGE) STACY

We were all babies once
Just as cute as can be

GUNNAR

Why can’t they come out full grown?

STACY

Don’t want that coming out of me.

Babies are life affirming
Babies are so sweet

GUNNAR

They only come in handy
When pitbulls need to eat

STACY

Babies can be noisy
And they need you near

GUNNAR

Why would you need a baby when-

STACY (caressing Gunnar)

I already have my baby here.

CUT TO EVERYONE SINGING IN SWEET A CAPELLA HARMONY

Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top…

GUNNAR (spoken)

Stacy, why’s that stupid baby in a tree?

STACY(spoken)

Because, Gunnar…

EVERYONE

Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
Babies are assholes (wah, wah, wah)
(quick shift to slow, Gunnar all alone)
Somebody change me

(I highly recommend someone fashion a percussion bead-filled shaker thingy out of a baby doll for Stacy to play during the final chorus. Get it? Shake the baby to get the cool sound.)

(Lights out)