Week 46, Day 316 - "Forced Smile"

“Forced Smile”

Written by Joe Janes

11/30/09

316 of 365

Cast

Richard, 20s

Dow, 20s

Blair, 20s

The Man, 40s

(Lights up on Blair, Dow and Richard. Richard has half of his body laid out on a chair or two while the rest of his body sits/lies on the floor. Dow is flat on his back with his knees up. Blair stands downstage, wide-eyed, facing out, smiling. Out of boredom, Dow forces air out of pursed lips. He does this a few times until he starts to play with the sounds he is making. Making it staccato. Richard begins to wake up. He glares at Dow, who does not notice him. He crawls over and smacks his hand over Dow’s mouth mid-expulsion. He removes his hand, Dow continues the razzberry sound. Richard slaps his hand back. Every time he removes it, the sound continues until Dow is finally out of air. Once Richard is sure Dow won’t continue, he crawls back to his napping position and closes his eyes. Dow sits up. He looks at Blair and he looks over at Richard. He slowly crawls over to Richard and gets right up next to his ear. He takes a deep breath and-

BLAIR

I don’t have his phone number.

(Richard and Dow look at her.)

BLAIR

I don’t have his phone number.

(Richard and Dow look at one another and then back at Blair.)

RICHARD AND DOW

We don’t have a phone.

BLAIR

Still. I would rather have his phone number and not be able to call then to not have his phone number and not be able to call. That’s two reasons to not call. Having only one reason not to be able to call puts me closer to calling and hearing his voice.

RICHARD

But you have two reasons.

DOW

Three really.

RICHARD

Really?

DOW

No phone, no phone number.

RICHARD

That’s two.

DOW

She didn’t have it and lost it. She never had it. She doesn’t have his phone number because he didn’t give it to her. Three.

RICHARD

Two and a half.

BLAIR

He’ll come by. He’ll come by, again and I’ll be here. Waiting for him. (She puts her hand out and presses it against a glass pane.) He’ll come by.

DOW

Unless he’s waiting for you to call first.

(Richard slaps him.)

DOW

Ow!

RICHARD

You had a something… I got it.

(Blair sits down and starts crying. Richard and Dow rush over to tend to her.)

DOW

No, no, no, no….

RICHARD

Hey, hey, hey, hey…

DOW

He’ll be by.

RICHARD

Sure he will.

DOW

Any second now.

(They all three stop and look out. She goes back to crying.)

RICHARD

Soon. He’ll be by soon. He likes you.

BLAIR

Does he?

RICHARD

Of course he does. Everyone does. We like you.

DOW

He told me.

BLAIR

He told you?

DOW

Yes. With his eyes.

RICHARD

It’s written all over his face.

DOW

In big, simple words. Even I understand it.

RICHARD

He likes you.

BLAIR

He won’t like me if he sees me crying. (She starts to wipe her eyes.)

DOW

There you go.

RICHARD

That’s better.

(Richard and Dow stay crouched down as she gets up and looks out, again, smiling. Dow is about to say something. Richard, without looking, reaches over and smacks him.)

DOW

Hey! What was that for?

RICHARD

You were about to say something.

DOW

But I didn’t.

RICHARD

You were about to.

(He steams in silence for a moment.)

DOW

I was just going to say, if he doesn’t come, he’ll have me to answer to.

(Richard slaps his own forehead.)

BLAIR

You don’t think he’ll come?

DOW

Oh, he’ll come. But if he doesn’t. He has me to answer. Me, (holds up his fists) Lois and Fergie.

BLAIR

I see him.

(The man approaches from the audience to the front of the stage. He opens a small door and places three bananas inside of it. Richard grabs the bananas and hands one to Dow and one to Blair. Blair doesn’t take it. Richard tears it in half and he and Dow hungrily woof eat all the fruit. The man shuts the door and turns to leave. Blair lightly taps on the glass. He stops. Turns and looks at her. He opens the small door again and hands a banana out just for her. She shyly takes it from him, being sure to touch his hand in the process. He shuts the door turns and leaves. She holds the banana to her chest.)

DOW

Told you he liked you.

RICHARD

We were right.

(Blair is in heaven.)

DOW

You still don’t have his number.

(She throws the banana down and stomps off to the back. Dow and Richard fight over the banana as Blair tries to find an exit stage left or stage right for which to continue her stomping off. Lights fade.)

Week 41, Day 285 - "Life's Too Short - Hey, Look! A Balloon!"

“Life’s Too Short – Hey, Look! A Balloon!”

Written by Joe Janes

10/30/09

285 of 365

CAST:

Joni, 30s

(A lone chair sits on stage. Joni enters. She is casually dressed and looks bored. Very, very bored. She looks around the room. There is nothing to do or see. She sits in the chair. And she sits. And she sits. She is so freaking bored. From offstage, a normal-sized red balloon -sans helium- comes out onto the stage. Joni sees it. Maybe not at first, but eventually. She regards it with curiosity. She picks it up. A song like “Hooked On A Feeling” by BJ Thomas plays. She begins to play with the balloon, gently tossing it up into the air and catching it. She is enthralled. She gives the balloon a little hug. She has truly found a playmate. She waltzes around the stage with her balloon. She stops to give her balloon a kiss and it suddenly pops, the music stopping cold. She is stunned with sadness. She sits. She looks very sad and looks like she is about to cry until her quivering frown turns into a yawn. She is bored, again. Very, very bored. A very heavy red bowling ball or medicine ball rolls out onto stage. Joni sees it. She approaches the ball with forced enthusiasm. She picks it. “Hooked On A Feeling” begins to play. She struggles to play and waltz with the bowling ball as she did with the balloon, maybe even dropping it on her foot and continuing to dance with a limp. Lights fade.)

Week 40, Day 280 - "Mr. Jones"

“Mr. Jones”

Written by Joe Janes

10/25/09

280 of 365

CAST

MR. JONES, 40s

BEARDED BOX OFFICE WOMAN, 20s

(Lights up on a young woman with a big, bushy beard sitting in a chair. Next to her is an empty chair. Mr. Jones enters stage right. He is a modest, middle-aged man who carries a metal clipboard. He wears a light gray suit with a dark blue tie. He tries to speak, but the box office woman holds up her hand to silence him each time. In the distance, from off stage left, we hear a burst of applause from an audience made up of thousands of people. Mr. Jones exits and then re-enters. He looks puzzled.)

MR. JONES

I need to see the theater. The actual space. I need- (The bearded woman gives him a devastating glare that silences him. We hear a Mexican horn and another burst of applause.) Now, see here. The capacity of this theater is, officially, at 38 people. That sounds like much more than 38 people. (Offstage, we hear a gunshot and then a moving, loving, smitten soft chorus of “awwwwww” from the audience. Mr. Jones moves towards the door. Bearded Lady blocks him as a bouncer would.)

MR. JONES (whispering)

Ah. I see. I will wait for the performance to be over. Do you have you a chair?

(She shakes her head no. She slowly sits back down being sure to take up both chairs.)

MR. JONES

You must be a volunteer. I’m from the city. I’m here to inspect the establishment. Exactly how much longer is the show?

(The box office woman indicates she does not know.)

MR. JONES

It’s just that, most shows have already let out. If this is longer than shows at real theaters, how much longer?

(The box office woman indicates she does not know. We hear wood creak and break as if under a great weight and then we hear an angry Hitler quacking. Mr. Jones listens, as does the box office woman, and they now hear absolutely nothing.)

MR. JONES

I’m going to go in. If the show is still going on-

(The box office woman holds out her hand for money.)

MR. JONES (continuing)

I told you, I’m here to-

(The box office woman holds out her hand for money.)

MR. JONES (continuing)

If the show’s still going on, I’ll just look at the ceiling and wait for it to be finished.

(He exits. The box office woman begins to produce, to her surprise, an egg from her mouth. As the egg protrudes and pops out, the sound of a manual typewriter becomes louder. She removes her beard and sets the egg on the beard on the chair next to her. The typewriter dings, an elephant trumpets, a loud splash is heard, and a crowd erupts in applause. Mr. Jones re-enters.)

MR. JONES

I just saw the most amazing thing. I just saw an elephant type a political manifesto for Equatorial Guinea on a mechanical typewriter with no less than three sets of carbon paper and never using the letter “e.” He then dove 60-feet into a bucket of water. Water that was on fire. And his typing was flawless!

(The box office woman holds out her hand for money. Mr. Jones defies her and runs back into the theater. If it is possible for more eggs to be produced from her mouth, this is where they are produced and added to the beard nest. As many as possible. If not from her mouth, she finds them in various nooks and crannies on her body. Mr. Jones runs back in. He has been bound with scarves and has wads of used typing paper in his mouth. He also now wears high heels and has a bone through his nose. His fly is undone and his shirttail sticks out through it. He manages to spit out the paper.)

MR. JONES

I walked into the room and I saw somebody naked and I asked who he was. I try so hard, but sometimes, I just don’t understand. Something is happening here, but I don’t know what it is. Oh my God, I feel so all alone. I saw a geek and he asked me how does it feel to be such a freak? Impossible! He handed me a bone. I have many contacts among the lumberjacks to get facts when someone attacks my imagination. Nobody has any respect! I have been with professors and with great lawyers with whom I discussed lepers and crooks. I’m very well read. Everyone knows that! The sword swallower also asked me how it felt. He borrowed my throat! There ought to be a law!

(He kneels. Exhausted.)

MR. JONES

A one-eyed midget yelled at me.

(He struggles back to his feet and starts to go back into the theater, but hesitates.)

MR. JONES

A naked man stole my clipboard. I didn’t get his name. He can keep it.

(Dejected, beaten, whipped, he heads to the exit, still attached to the chair.)

MR. JONES (upset, choking back tears)

I give to charitable organizations!

(He exits. The box office woman produces Mr. Jones’ clipboard from under her dress and smashes the eggs with one grand smack. Off stage we hear a cow moo and a tiger roar and then swords clanking as they battle and then the cow falls and we hear a death moo. The box office lady sheds a tear as lights fade and the offstage audience builds from a single clap to full applause.)