Week Nine, Day 60- "Open Casket"

“Open Casket”
Written by Joe Janes
3/19/09
60 of 365

CAST:
Neidecker, 40s
Leveck, 20s
Mrs. Gerner, 70s
Mrs. Wolf, 70s
Mrs. Marsh, 70s
Mr. Crosser, 70s

(Lights up on a funeral home. There is a casket downstage. It’s the kind with a split lid. One side is open. Sad organ music plays in the background. Mourners stand in a row looking solemn. Off to the side is Leveck, a young funeral director in training. Neidecker, the more experienced one enters.)

NEIDECKER

Sorry, I’m late. Did you have any trouble setting up for Mr. Johnson’s funeral?

LEVECK

Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.

(The mourners begin to approach the casket and walk by it one by one taking one last look at Mr. Johnson.)

MRS. GERNER

This is so tragic.

(She looks in, looks puzzled, and moves on.)

MRS. WOLF (peeking in the casket)

Well, it is how I remembered him.

(She moves on.)

MRS. MARSH (peeking in)

He does look natural.

(She moves on.)

MR. CROSSER (peeking in)

Bastard’s a show off even in death!

(Neidecker and Leveck exchange confused looks. Neidecker checks out the coffin and rolls his eyes towards Leveck. He closes the lid and opens the other side. The mourners all approach again as Neidecker stands to the side.)

MRS. GERNER

Oh, that’s better.

MR. CROSSER

That’s more like it.

MRS. WOLF

He looks so peaceful.

(As they talk, Mrs. Marsh tries to lift the lid on the lower half of Mr. Johnson to sneak another peak. Neidecker smacks her hand and wags his finger at her. Lights fade.)

Week Nine, Day 59- "Recollections of a Country Life"

"Waiter Scene No. 6, Op. 68, F Major, “Pastoral”

also known as

"Recollections of a Country Life"
Written By Joe Janes and Sir Jasper Turlington III
3/18/09
59 of 365

CAST
Percy, 60
Manfred, 30
Philippe, 50

(Far stage left, a spotlight clicks on and we see scholarly Professor Percy Donohue standing at a podium.)

PERCY

Good evening. I am Professor Percy Donohue, comedy historian. In 1883, Sir Jasper Turlington the Third of Ipswich, England is believed to have penned what is universally agreed upon as the greatest comic scenario ever written. Scholars and public alike embraced Sir Turlington's masterpiece making it a staple of many a music hall revue. It has since faded into obscurity and its original text thought lost to the ages. The original handwritten manuscript was found in a coffee can at an estate sale. With tremendous pride, we present, "Waiter Scene No. 6, Op. 68, F Major, “Pastoral” also known as "Recollections of a Country Life." It begins thusly...

(As Percy speaks, the action is played out center stage.)

PERCY (continuing)

Lights up on Manfred; a mustachioed and dapper fellow sipping creamed tomato soup with a whisper of basil at an outdoor cafe in Oxford during a crisp October afternoon. He notices something in his next spoonful and unceremoniously dumps the contents back into the bowl punctuated with a malcontent flourish. He beckons Philippe, the waiter.

JANIFRED

Waiter!

PERCY

Philippe, 50s, a tall, thin and generously nosed career waiter, approaches the table. He suffers from mild gout in his right foot. He wears a tuxedo and has a red cloth draped over his extended forearm. He recently thought about petunias and the breath of his mother.

PHILLIPE

Yes?

JANIFRED

What is this fly doing in my soup?

PHILLIPE

The backstroke.

PERCY

A bluebird tweets. A lonely dog in the distance barks at a fleeting shadow. A gunshot is heard. A man, unseen, coughs while commuting to his job at the All-Night Haberdashery in Londontown on a train five miles away due north, also unseen. Lights fade ever so slowly.

(The lights do fade ever so slowly and then quickly come back up. The actors take a quick bow and make a quick exit. Lights fade on the action, but remain on Percy at his podium.)

PERCY (continuing)

It is believed that Sir Jasper Turlington the Third scribed well over 365 "short humorous plays music hall and soiree frivolity." This is the only piece that has survived the ravages of time. Given the date scrawled in the corner of the manuscript, it can be concluded that this may also have been Sir Turlington's last comic scenario ever written as he shortly thereafter succumbed to tuberculosis. Turlington scholars agree that the man referenced as coughing on the train was Turlington himself and that the train represents life’s inevitable and persistent chug towards death. The Haberdashery represents the haberdashery where he worked, as he made no money from his writing and died in poverty. But I think you will agree, his good humor and witty dialogue will be enjoyed from to eternity and afterward. Goodnight.

(blackout)

Week Nine, Day 58 - "Big Fat Lies"

“Big Fat Lies”
Written by Joe Janes
3/17/09
58 out of 365

CAST:
Julie, 30s
Ned, 30s

(Lights up on Ned sitting on the couch, wearing cut-off shorts, eating potato chips, and watching TV. Julie enters.)

JULIE

Ned.

NED (turning off TV with remote)

Uh-oh.

JULIE

You said you were going to clean today.

NED

I did. I did clean.

JULIE

Where? Where did you clean? This place looks like the backseat of your car.

NED

I swept.

JULIE

Shuffling in your stocking feet between the couch and the kitchen doesn’t count as sweeping.

NED

Ha-ha. I swept in the hall.

JULIE (she looks)

There’s cat puke in the hall.

NED

Which is why I swept.

JULIE

Then why is there cat puke in the hall?

NED

I’m letting it dry so it will be easier to sweep up.

JULIE

It’s dry. Looks like it’s been dry for hours.

NED

Okay, CSI. I’ll clean it up.

(He gets up off the couch)

JULIE

Ned, I’m tired of your big, fat thighs.

NED

What did you say?

JULIE

You heard me. You’re a liar.

NED

That’s not what you said.

JULIE

And now you’re lying to me about what I said.

NED

You said you are tired of my big, fat thighs.

JULIE

Lies. I said “lies.”

NED

You said “thighs.” You – you think I’m fat. (He starts to tear up.)

JULIE

No, baby, no.

NED

It’s these stupid shorts. I knew I shouldn’t wear them.

JULIE

You look sexy in those shorts. Come here.

(She sits and pats the spot next to her.)

NED

No.

JULIE

Ned. Come here. (She pulls Ned towards her and makes him sit on her lap.) There. (Groans a bit) That’s better. Doesn’t that feel better?

NED

Yeah.

JULIE

Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it, baby. You know I didn’t mean it. You’re my guy. My sexy guy. I love you. You’re as handsome as the day I met you. Even more. (She meows.)

NED

You don’t think I’m fat?

JULIE

Not at all. You know I get a little tongue-tied when I see you in your manly Daisy Dukes. Why don’t you head on into the bedroom and slip out of them. I’ll be right in.

NED (giggling)

Okay. (He kisses her on the lips.) I’ll go warm up the Craftmatic.

(He exits)

JULIE (to the audience)

You know, if he weren’t so damn good in the sack, I’d dump his fat ass.

(Ned comes back in looking coy.)

NED

Julie, honey, you sure you don’t think I’m fat?

JULIE

Ned, you look flabulous.

(Ned gasps and runs off crying.)

JULIE (continuing and following)

What? What? Now, what did I say?

(Blackout)

Week Nine, Day 57 - "Bully"

“Bully”
Written by Joe Janes
3/16/09
57 out of 365

CAST:
William, 20s
Melinda, 20s
Gary, 20s

(Lights up on Melinda and William sitting at a table in the office break room.)

WILLIAM

As you can see, Melinda, they really want to make it so you don’t ever have to leave the office.

MELINDA

I see, William. I never saw a vending machine before that doled out stamps and bus passes. And even has a mailbox.

WILLIAM

There’s food, too, including frozen entrees. I prefer to pack my own lunch.

(He takes out a small paper bag and takes a sandwich out of it.)

MELINDA

Me, too. (She takes out a more professional looking lunchbox and unzips it.) Is that peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat wrapped in wax paper?

WILLIAM

It is.

MELINDA

That’s what I have, too. Creamy or crunchy?

WILLIAM

Crunchy, of course.

MELINDA

Me, too!

WILLIAM

Well, isn’t that something?

MELINDA

I think I’m really going to enjoy working here, William. I really do.

WILLIAM

That’s good, Melinda. I’m glad to hear that.

MELINDA

Everyone seems so nice.

WILLIAM

Everyone is. Almost everyone.

MELINDA

Especially you.

WILLIAM

Oh, my.

(Gary enters.)

WILLIAM

Oh, darn it.

MELINDA

What is it?

WILLIAM

Don’t look.

GARY

Hey, Schnauzer Balls. Who’s the new chick?

WILLIAM (not looking at him)

The lady is Melinda. This is Gary.

GARY

Hello, Melinda. Has Schnauzer Balls shown you the copy room, yet?

MELINDA

William did.

GARY

Well, if you want a man to show you where everything goes, just let me know. I’ll show you all the ins and outs. What’s for lunch, Schnauzer Balls? (Gary grabs William’s lunch sack and starts looking through it.) Carrot sticks, apple, Little Debbie. Keep the carrot sticks. (Throws them on the table) But give me the PB & J. (Gary holds his hand out. William hands Gary the sandwich. Gary takes it and sticks his hand out, again. William takes the piece of sandwich in his mouth and puts it in Gary’s hand.) Bon appétit!

(Gary goes to another table, sits and begins eating.)

MELINDA

That was so rude!

WILLIAM

No, Melinda, it’s all right.

MELINDA

He took your lunch, William. It is not all right.

WILLIAM

Yes, it is. Yes, it is. The joke’s on him. I anticipated his hijinks. I brought two lunches. (William produces a second paper lunch bag. Gary reaches over and grabs that bag, too.) Shoot!

(Melinda gets up and stands next to Gary.)

MELINDA

Just who do you think you are?

GARY

I’m Gary.

MELINDA

Where do you get off taking people’s lunches, Gary?

WILLIAM

Melinda…

GARY

Who are you? His mommy? Hey, Schnauzer Balls, tell your mommy to back off.

MELINDA

Or what?

(Gary stands up and gets in Melinda’s face. She doesn’t back off.)

WILLIAM

Okay, okay. (He gets up and wedges himself uncomfortably in between them.) No need for that. We’re all professionals. Let’s just go back to our own tables and eat our lunches quietly.

GARY

Tell your woman she needs to learn to keep her nose out of other people’s business.

WILLIAM

My woman? Sure, I’ll tell her.

MELINDA

Shut up, William.

WILLIAM

Right away.

MELINDA (returning to her seat)

You can bully William all you like, but don’t ever try that with me.

GARY

“William” doesn’t mind. Do you, “William”?

WILLIAM

Nah…It’s all in fun. (Melinda looks at him) Maybe. I do. A little, I do, Gary. I mind.

GARY

You do? You don’t want to give me your lunches anymore?

WILLIAM

I don’t think I ever technically gave them to you or wanted to?

GARY

You calling me a thief? You want to step outside?

WILLIAM

We’re on the fiftieth floor.

GARY

So? You chicken? (makes chicken sounds)

MELINDA

You two are driving me crazy. This isn’t the playground. We’re adults. Grow up. Stop taking his lunches and you stop letting him. What’s Gary going to do? Beat you up?

WILLIAM

Yes.

GARY

Yes.

MELINDA

Well, he can’t. It’s against the law; you can have him arrested for assault. You can have him fired for even threatening you. Report him to the HR director.

WILLIAM

He is the HR director.

(Gary laughs.)

MELINDA (to Gary)

Then you should be ashamed of yourself.

(Gary gets up and walks to their table.)

GARY

Tell you what, William. You work on growing a pair and I’ll work on being less of a bully. Let me buy you a frozen entrée from the vending machine. Seriously. My treat. Whatever you want. What do you say?

WILLIAM

Okay.

(He escorts William off.)

MELINDA

That’s much better.

GARY (off)

Which one do you want?

WILLIAM (off)

Oh, I don’t know. The Turkey Tetrazzini Lean Cuisine looks good.

GARY (off)

Which one?

WILLIAM (off)

This one down here…Oh.

(William wobbles back to his chair.)

MELINDA

Did he buy your lunch?

WILLIAM

Change of plans. Gave me a wedgie, instead.

GARY (off)

See you tomorrow Schnauzer nuts! And no more carrot sticks!

(Blackout)

Week Eight, Day 56 - “We Reach With Radio, Part I”

"We Reach With Radio, Part I"
By Joe Janes
3/15/09
56 out of 365

Cast
Joe, late teens
Rob, mid-40’s



(1979. Joe is sitting at the console of a small radio station in small town Ohio. He wears corduroy slacks and a new, black concert t-shirt for Woody Herman and his Thundering Herd.)

JOE
… and at Bataan Elementary they’ll be having macaroni and cheese, green beans and a fruit cocktail. Go easy on those cocktails, kids. That’s it for school lunch menus. Weather and the news coming up in ten. Right now, here’s the latest from Gerry Rafferty on WRWR, 94.5 FM, We Reach With Radio…

(Joe flips a switch and we hear Gerry Rafferty’s “Right Down the Line” begins to play. Joe takes off his headphones and cues up the next record. Rob Rider enters and closes the door behind him. He wears a gray three-piece suit and carries some record albums.)

ROB

Good morning, Joe J.

JOE (turning down the music)

Morning, Rob. How are you?

ROB

Good, good, good. Well, okay. You know, it’s no longer “We Reach With Radio.” It’s “WRWR – We’re Radio Active.”

JOE

Oh, I thought it was either one.

ROB

Nope. Just “We’re Radio Active.”

JOE

Because of the new nuclear power plant they built outside of town.

ROB

It’s clever and topical.

JOE

That it is.

(Rob looks at turntable and spins his head around to read the label.)

ROB

I was also wondering why you were playing the side of a 45 that clearly doesn’t have a tan sticky on it.

JOE

Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention. You know, this song has been getting a lot of airplay. You should consider giving it a tan sticky.

ROB

Perhaps. But remember, we only play rock and roll at night. Only adult contemporary during the day.

JOE

Right.

ROB

I brought in some new albums to put into the rotation, “Steve and Edie’s Greatest Hits”-

JOE

That’s an album?

ROB

Some Montavani and Roger Miller.

JOE

That’s… great. Let me double check something. Is it album-single-album-single? Or is it single-single-single-single-album?

ROB
It’s male vocalist single-album cut-instrumental single-album cut-female vocalist single-album cut-band single-album cut.

JOE
What should I do if I have a Steve & Edie single and their album is next in the stack? Do I play two in a row?

ROB
No, no. I think you should just skip over that album and go to the next album.

JOE
There’s also fewer instrumental singles than any other singles. I could end up playing “Hot Buttered Popcorn” two or three times in a shift.

ROB
I think that would be okay. Um… Joe J.? You wouldn’t know how this got into the adult contemporary “band single” rotation?

(Rob picks a 45 out of the bands single pile.)

JOE

What is it?

ROB

“Dog and Butterfly” by Heart. It clearly has a neon green sticky indicating rock. Heart is a rock and roll band. It does not belong here.

JOE

Have you heard the tune? It’s all acoustic guitar. Roger Miller out rocks it.

ROB

I see. Well, let’s keep it where it belongs for now. Have you seen Joe C. this morning?

JOE

Yeah.

ROB

He looks very nice today. Very professional. Shirt and tie. (Pause as he looks at Joe’s outfit.) Very well. I look forward to hearing Heart after 7pm.

(He exits. Joe turns the music back up, checks the log and organizes his commercial cartridges as “Right Down the Line” continues playing. Lights fade.)

Week Eight, Day 55 - “Happy Ending”

“Happy Ending”
Written by Joe Janes
3/14/09
55 of 365

CAST:
Miss Dugan, 30s

(Lights up on Miss Dugan, a young schoolteacher, seated in a small chair for children. She has a storybook in her hands. To her right and back is her desk.)

MISS DUGAN

Does everyone have their juice and cookies? Yes? Yes... Good. Everyone have a seat on your mat and we’ll have story time. Would you like me to tell you a story? Yes? Yes? ... Good. This is the story of “The Fairy Princess”… Once upon a time, there was a fairy princess… She lived in a castle with her mother, but they were all alone. She hoped one day to meet the handsome prince who lived in a bigger castle on the hill… (Her cell phone rings. She looks at the ID.) I am so sorry children, but Miss Dugan has to get this. It’s a very important telephone call… (She answers) Hello?... Yes. This is Marilyn Dugan…You have the results?… You’re sure?...Really? 100%?...I don’t think there’s a reason to go to a thousand percent; I understand that you are certain…Okay, then… Yes, indeedee, congratulations…thank you. (She hangs up and is quiet for a moment)… Oh, my, Miss Dugan forgot her juice…Can’t do story time without my juice…my potato juice…(She goes back to her desk, opens the bottom drawer, and pours vodka into a coffee cup. She takes a replenishing sip. Pours more vodka into the cup and returns to her seat.) Enjoy life while you can, kids, while you’re in those single digits… (She takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights up) Now, kids, what I am doing is bad. Smoking is bad, right? Don’t let me catch any of you smoking. It’s especially bad for mommies. Anybody have a little sister or little brother? Did your mommy get a really big fat belly? When mommies are fat is when smoking is really bad for them. Potato juice, too, but you know, everything in moderation. I still have some time before it does any serious damage… Ha, it’s vodka that got me into this mess. You’re not going to find the answer to life’s problem at the bottom of a juice box, Melvin…Miss Dugan met a prince, boys and girls… (sarcastically) a real Prince… Want to know what his name is? Yes? Yes...His name is Rick. What kind of name is Rick for a prince? Prince Rick. Can you think of any words that rhyme with Rick? …Crick... Chick. Like baby chick… Brick…Kick…Trick’s a good one…Prick… all very good boys and girls. All very good. Thick… there’s another one. You remember how Cinderella lost her glass slipper? Well, one time, Prince Rick lost his latex slipper…But he was very “slick” in making me, his gullible wannabe princess, believe that everything would be all right just as long as he pulled his pumpkin carriage out of the enchanted garage in time… And the very next day, Rick stopped calling…”Dick” – that’s another one. Miss Dugan doesn’t see Rick again until a week later when she sees him probing the esophagus of some bar slut’s throat with his tongue in a booth in the back of the Bennigan’s Miss Dugan sometimes goes to after school. I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl …Oh, sorry, where’s my mind? (She stomps out the cigarette on the floor). Let’s finish the story…(She starts flipping through the pages) Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, more bullshit, and they live happily ever after. Bullshit. Now, drink your juice.

(She sips her vodka. Blackout)

Week Eight, Day 54 - “Self-Storage”

“Self-Storage”
Written by Joe Janes
3/13/09
54 of 365

CAST:
Brownie, 40s
Turk, 40s

(Lights up on Brownie sitting at a table in front of his house. Next to him is a large lidded trash can. Turk walks up.)

TURK

Hey, Brownie.

BROWNIE

Turk.

TURK

Kind of small for a yard sale, isn’t it?

BROWNIE

Had a few things in self-storage I thought I’d try to get rid of. Maybe make a few dollars before I just give it all to the city dump.

TURK

I see.

BROWNIE

Had this stuff for years. Dragging it around from house-to-house, some for a few decades, even. Figured it was time to let it all go.

TURK (holding up pieces of something ceramic)

Sounds like a good plan. What’s this?

BROWNIE

Oh, that’s the vase I threw at my ex-wife’s head. A little super glue should make that right as rain.

TURK

I never knew you were married.

BROWNIE

Was. Very was. And the reason it became was is in your hands.

TURK

Looks like there’s some blood on it.

BROWNIE

Mahtilda had to get twelve stitches. Up near the hairline, so it’s not too bad. Not as bad as she thinks. Cost $1500 at the emergency room. Uh, here’s the bill. That’s for sale, too.

TURK

I’m guessing you were drunk as a skunk.

BROWNIE

I wish. Nope. Just an outraged asshole.

TURK

It happens. Broke my kid’s arm, once. Didn’t mean to, just, errrrr…don’t get ice cream on the leather car seat, you know?

BROWNIE

I know, I know.

TURK

I’ll think about the vase. Not much of a flower guy, but my mom might like it.

BROWNIE

Take both. I’ll throw in the bill for free. Just looking to let it all go. You need a gift for your mom?

TURK

Birthday’s coming up. 73, or four, maybe six. Not sure I want to spend too much. She’ll be dead soon and I might not get it back.

BROWNIE (looks around table)

Mom, mom, mom…here’s a birthday card I got my mom and never sent. I wrote all over the front, back and inside about how I hated her, how she never was there for me, how she let dad walk all over her. Really poured my guts out. Lot of hateful, spiteful things. Never sent it, though. Still has a stamp on it.

TURK

It’s heavy. Twenty-cent stamp. That was some time ago.

BROWNIE

College. I was the angry young man. Fuck you, God (flips off the sky).

TURK

Ever tell your mom about it?

BROWNIE

She died two years later. So, no. I think she knew how I felt, though. Let you have it for a buck.

TURK

I’m going to take you up on that. Whew. This smells a little ripe.

BROWNIE

Oh, that. I’ve done lots of stupid stuff out of anger, but that’s probably the one thing I want to get rid of the most.

TURKS

Looks like little kid pants.

BROWNIE

Yep. Tan corduroy. Parents got them for me when I performed in the Christmas pageant at school in the sixth grade. Front and center, me singing “O Holy Night.”

TURK

Solo?

BROWNIE

Solo. I had a great singing voice before the gonads dropped and took my vocal cords with ‘em. Right in the middle of the first verse, right around “Fall on your knees,” I pissed myself.

TURK

That’s awful.

BROWNIE

Shows up nice and dark when you’re wearing tan corduroy.

TURK

People start laughing?

BROWNIE

Howling, convulsing and falling out of their seats is more like it.

TURK

Wow. I feel bad just hearing it.

BROWNIE

Would have finished my solo, too, if I hadn’t freaked out so much that I crapped myself. Left a trail of heel marks when I ran off the stage. That’s when my dad gave me the nickname “Brownie.”

TURK

I always wondered. Well, I’m going to take this card off your hands (hands Brownie a dollar). I think my mother will appreciate the thought. Good luck getting rid of everything else.

BROWNIE

Thanks, Turk. See you at the bowling alley.

(Turk walks off. Brownie sits there for a moment. He sees that no one else is coming up. He takes all the junk on the table and quickly sweeps it into the trashcan, slamming the lid on it and moving it downstage as to put it on the curb. He walks into his house. A moment later, he rushes back out, grabs the can and takes it back in with him. Blackout.)