Week 17, Day 115 - "Nighthawks"

“Nighthawks”
Written by Joe Janes
5/13/09
115 of 365

CAST:
Deckard, 40s
Rachael, 30s
Sebastian, 40s
Tyrell, 40s

(Lights up on a diner on a diner in Greenwich Village, New York, 2042. Deckard and Rachael sit together at the counter. To their far right, with his back to the audience, is Tyrell reading a handheld digitized newspaper. Sebastian is behind the counter, washing some cups in a sink unseen to us. Although it is 2042, their style of dress echoes fashion from a hundred years earlier.)

SEBASTIAN

Hunh?

DECKARD

Say what?

SEBASTIAN

I thought you said something.

DECKARD

I didn’t say anything. I don’t have anything to say.

TYRELL

Surprised you’re open, Sebastian.

SEBASTIAN

Where else am I going to be? It’s just another night.

TYRELL

Look at it out there. It’s a ghost town.

DECKARD

What did you expect?

TYRELL

Thought it would be different. Swarms of people. Looting. Freaking out, you know.

DECKARD

About twenty years too late for freaking out. Everybody knows it’s too late. Nothing to do but stay in the shadows.

SEBASTIAN

You want more coffee?

TYRELL

Yeah.

(Sebastian takes Tyrell’s cup and fills it at an urn.)

SEBASTIAN

How about you?

DECKARD

I’m fine.

SEBASTIAN

The lady?

RACHAEL

No, thank you.

SEBASTIAN

You haven’t touched it. Want me to warm it up for you?

RACHAEL

No. Really. I’m fine.

(Sebastian gives Tyrell his cup while indicating to Rachael over his shoulder. Tyrell gets his drift.)

RACHAEL (continuing)

How much time do we have?

(She looks at Deckard who looks over at Tyrell.)

TYRELL

Ah, this piece of crap ain’t saying exactly. Critical mass, darkness, cold, blah-blah-blah. Could all still be a load of horseshit.

SEBASTIAN

I’d settle of an actual load. Never got to see a horse.

TYRELL

Beautiful animal. Dumb as a bag of bags. But, just…beautiful. Saw one at the zoo. When I was a kid.

RACHAEL

I rode one once.

DECKARD

Rachael…

SEBASTIAN

You did not.

RACHAEL

I did. A black stallion. His name was Nighthawk. On my uncle’s farm. Just outside St. Louis. It was thrilling.

(They all look at her in disbelief, except Deckard.)

RACHAEL (continuing)

He was real, I tell ya’. You believe me, don’t you?

DECKARD

Of course, I do. Of course, I do. Hey, Sebastian, guess I’ll have a reload of this burnt rocket fuel you’re peddling.

SEBASTIAN

Sure thing.

(Sebastian refills the coffee and returns it to Deckard.)

DECKARD

Going to give you a big tip tonight. (Tyrell and Sebastian laugh) What do you want? My car? My apartment? I’ll just leave you my whole damn wallet.

SEBASTIAN

You’re funny, Mister. You can leave Rachael.

DECKARD

Now, you’re funny.

SEBASTIAN

She’s the reason this thing’s going down. I’d like to take her out back and take a crow bar to her.

RACHAEL

Rick…

DECKARD

It’s not her fault.

SEBASTIAN

Ain’t it? AIn’t it? The only reason one of them’s not working here is because I own the joint. All those big corporations and politicians chasing the almighty Yuan. Never cared about people. Never cared about the planet. The only jobs left were in the military as grunts because we’re cheaper than one of those. We’re expendable. I was lucky to come back from Africa with most of my limbs. What’s the matter, Rachael? Scared of me. You shouldn’t be. One fourth of me is just like you.

(Deckard grabs Sebastian by the lapels.)

DECKARD

Listen up. You’re going to apologize to the lady and you’re going to go back to cleaning your little cups or whatever it is you do back there. We got nowhere to go, same as you. We may as well make the best of it.

SEBASTIAN

You listen, tough guy. I ain’t wasting my last breath sucking up to a toaster with tits. You don’t like it, you can leave.

(Deckard lets go of him. He grabs Rachael and they try to walk off stage left and realize there is no exit. They move to stage right, same thing. They look at each other and hold one another. Thunder is heard rumbling in the distance. Tyrell looks out the window, a look of fear on his face. Sebastian goes back to cleaning cups. Rachael and Deckard sit back down at the counter. Tyrell sits back down and turns his back to the audience. More thunder. Lights fade.)

Week 10, Day 67 - “The End of the World”

“The End of the World”
Written by Joe Janes
3/26/09
67 of 365

CAST:
Bri, 30s
Keely, 30s

(Lights up on a missile silo control room somewhere in Kansas. Bri and Keely wear dark coveralls. The reasonably attractive Keely sits at a control panel as the reasonably unattractive Bri takes down readings from wall panels on a clipboard.)

BRI

Man. You know what I haven’t done in awhile, Keely?

KEELY

What’s that, Bri?

BRI

Go to a movie. Go out to a movie theater, sit in air-conditioned comfort, eat a bag of popcorn, sip on an ice cold coca-cola and watch a flick on the big screen.

KEELY

Guess I haven’t done that in awhile, either.

BRI

We should go. After work Friday. Maybe even sneak out of the ol’ silo early. Grab some dinner at the Chicken Shack. Hit the mall and see what’s playing. Sound like a plan?

KEELY

Sounds more like a date.

BRI

Date? Naw. You’ve been clear on that. This is just two co-workers getting away from the drudgery of baby-sitting a nuclear missile. Relaxing. Blowing off some steam. Bitchin’ about the boss.

KEELY

You’re my boss.

BRI

Just barely by rank. You can bitch about me.

KEELY

I do.

BRI

To my face.

KEELY

I do.

BRI

Then it sounds like we’d have a good time.

KEELY

Bri. No. I don’t go out with people I work with. Makes things weird.

BRI

Keely, we both got transferred here. Neither of us knows anybody. We can’t tell anybody that we’re here babysitting a nuclear missile in their backyard. Aren’t you just the least bit lonely?

KEELY

Yes, Bri. I’m lonely. But it’s just an assignment. We’ll be here a few months and then move on to something else.

BRI

Right. And we’ll regret not taking the time getting to know each other better. Not now, but, you know, down the road. You’ll look back and think, “That, Bri. Cute. Comely-

KEELY

I would never say “comely.”

BRI

Fine. But the way I fill out my coveralls will forever be etched into your mind.

KEELY

This is true.

BRI

Then let’s go out on a “sort of” date.

KEELY

What’s a “sort of” date?

BRI

Very casual and if something happens, it happens. If not, no big deal. Still just friendly co-workers.

KEELY

Nothing’s going to happen.

BRI

It might.

KEELY

It won’t.

BRI

You never know.

KEELY

I’m gay.

BRI

I can deal with that.

KEELY

It kind of takes dating completely off the table, don’t you think?

BRI

Not necessarily. I’d go gay for you.

KEELY

Doesn’t work like that.

BRI

You’re telling me flat out that there is absolutely no way under any circumstances that you would sleep with me?

KEELY

Maybe if it were the end of the world.

BRI

So there’s hope!

KEELY

I said “maybe.”

BRI

What if there’s a nuclear war? What if we fire off ol’ Bessie here and the whole planet’s just a post-apocalyptic wasteland? You’re telling me you wouldn’t have sex with me to carry on the human race?

KEELY

I don’t want to have a kid now the way things are on this planet, what makes you think nuclear holocaust is going to sweeten the deal?

BRI

Okay, then. As long as we know where we stand. But this Friday, after work, I am going to go to a crowded restaurant and eat fried chicken and then see a movie in a big room with lots of other people. Some of them inexplicably rude and loud. I’d like to not be alone when I do that.

KEELY

It’s a date.

(The lights turn red as a baritone pulsing buzzer-warning signal goes off. Bri and Keely look at the control panel stunned and then look at each other. Lights and sounds fade.)