Week 25, Day 171 - “Down on the Farm”

“Down on the Farm”
Written by Joe Janes
7/8/09
171 of 365

CAST:
Farmer Brown, 50s
Sherman, 12
Various cows

(Lights up on Farmer Brown sitting on his front porch rocking in his chair. Sherman, a small boy, approaches him.)

SHERMAN

Hi, Farmer Brown!

FARMER BROWN

Well, hello there, Sherman.

SHERMAN

Guess what we learned about in school today?

FARMER BROWN

How to make a taco?

SHERMAN

Nope.

FARMER BROWN

How to count to 3,472?

SHERMAN

Nope.

FARMER BROWN

I know, I know. How to make a bomb out of fertilizer.

SHERMAN

Maybe I should just tell you.

FARMER BROWN

That’s a good idea.

SHERMAN

We learned all about dairy farms, like yours.

FARMER BROWN

Like mine?

SHERMAN

Just like yours.

FARMER BROWN

What did they tell you?

SHERMAN

They said cows live on farms. During the day, they graze on grass in open fields and at night sleep on beds of hay in barns, like that one.

FARMER BROWN

That? That’s just for show. I rent it out for parties and tourists like to have their picture taken in front of it. The cattle’s all in that building over there.

SHERMAN

That windowless metal shed?

FARMER BROWN

I still call it a barn. What else did the teacher tell you?

SHERMAN

Well, she said that whenever you need milk for your family, you just grab a bucket and milk one of the cows.

FARMER BROWN

Ha! Shows how much your teacher knows. (puts his finger to the side of his nose) A dealer doesn’t sample his own stuff. (wink) Want to visit them cows? See what it’s really like?

SHERMAN

You bet I do.

FARMER BROWN

Right this way, Sherman!

(They walk across the stage. Farmer Brown takes out keys and undoes a series of locks on a door.)

SHERMAN

Gosh, Farmer Brown, why so many locks?

FARMER BROWN

Cows are money, Sherman. Your parents ever teach you to lock up your valuables?

SHERMAN

Just my bike.

FARMER BROWN

Well, multiply the value of your bike by a million.

SHERMAN

Would if I could.

FARMER BROWN

And that’s the value of my cows.

(Farmer Brown opens the door, but before they go in…)

FARMER BROWN

Now, Sherman, you’re about to see a special place. A place many little boys never get to see. Are you ready?

SHERMAN

More than ever, Farmer Brown!

FARMER BROWN

Then enter and be amazed by Farmer Brown’s Real Barn.

(They enter and see basically a large, plumpy pile of live cows. About a dozen. Stacked on another in something like a cow pyramid. Off to the side in the corner is one lone cow standing on a milk crate with a black garbage bag over his head and his upper legs spread out holding wires.)

SHERMAN

Wow! There’s so many of them in such a small space.

FARMER BROWN

I told you it was amazing.

SHERMAN

There must be a dozen cows there.

FARMER BROWN

Oh, way more. Hundreds more. This is just the tip of the bovine pyramid. See, there’s a hole in the floor.

SHERMAN

Why are they stacked like this?

FARMER BROWN

Makes it easier to store them and feed them.

SHERMAN

Can I feed them?

FARMER BROWN

Nope. It’s all done by machines. Twice a day, they get hosed down with nutrient-laced water. And once a day, they’re sprinkled with a mixture of ground up corn, newspaper, Valium and animal remnants.

SHERMAN

Animal remnants?

FARMER BROWN

Whatever’s left of a cow that we can’t sell. You know, the stuff they won’t even put in a hot dog. Nothing goes to waste around here.

SHERMAN (pointing to cow standing in corner)

Did that cow do something bad?

FARMER BROWN

Yes, he did, Sherman. He was born a male. See, we need pregnant female cows to produce a lot of milk.

SHERMAN

Don’t you need boy cows to make the girl cows pregnant?

FARMER BROWN

Not in this day and age. We use other methods, such as artificial insemination.

SHERMAN

Artificial insemination?

FARMER BROWN

That’s where I make the girl cow pregnant. (Sherman and Farmer Brown stare at each other for a moment. Sherman clearly is getting a disturbing image in his mind.) …With science!

SHERMAN

Oh, science!

FARMER BROWN

He has to stand there for a month and then we’ll turn him into veal. It’s his own fault, really.

SHERMAN

Dumb cow.

FARMER BROWN

You’re a smart boy, Sherman. Have a lollipop!

(Farmer Brown gives Sherman a lollipop, which he eagerly accepts and unwraps.)

SHERMAN

Thanks, Farmer Brown.

FARMER BROWN

Let me get a picture of you with my brownie and you can show it to your teacher.

(Farmer Brown takes a small instant camera out of his pocket.)

SHERMAN

That would be great.

FARMER BROWN

Stand right next to the cow pile.

SHERMAN

Like this!

(He smiles and points at the cows with the lollipop in his mouth, just like that pic from Abu Ghraib.)

FARMER BROWN

Say, “Cheeese!”

(Sherman says “cheese!” as the cows “moo” pathetically. Farmer Brown snaps the shot. Blackout.)

Week 12, Day 78 - “Chicken Magnet”

“Chicken Magnet”
Written by Joe Janes
4/6/09
78 of 365

CAST:
Sam, 30s
Orlando, 50s
Carlos, 20s
Fido
Rover
Spot
Senor Bawk-Bawk


(In the dark, we hear the soft cooing and clucking of chickens. And then a knock on a door. A light comes on. We see Orlando, 50, near a light switch on the wall. He has a rifle. Onstage, are four chickens walking about. And by chickens, I mean actors. Who can afford live chickens? There’s another knock. Orlando crosses to the other side of the stage to the door.)

ORLANDO

Who is there?

SAM (off)

My name is Sam.

ORLANDO

What is the password?

SAM

Oh. Um. Oh! “To get to the other side.”

(Orlando opens the door. Sam, a mild-mannered young man, enters.)

SAM

Hi. You must be Orlando. My name is Sam. (He holds out his hand. Orlando does not take it.)

ORLANDO

Who told you to come here?

SAM

A man. At the grocery store. He heard me complaining to the produce guy about the price and quality of their poultry. He trailed me out into the parking lot and told me I could get fresh, organic chicken from you. Cheap.

ORLANDO

That man lied to you. I do not sell “poultry.”

SAM

But, these look like chickens here. In your living room.

ORLANDO

These are my pets. They are like family to me. I could never part with them. This one is Spot. This one is Rover. That one is Fido. And this here is Senor Bawk-Bawk. Senor Bawk-Bawk, who is a good boy? Who is a good boy? …My pets.

SAM

The guy was pretty clear. He said I could come here and you would hook me up. I’m just trying to stop taking it on the chin from the man.

ORLANDO

There is a man giving it to you on your chin?

SAM

You know, greedy corporate America. Factory farms.

ORLANDO

You should go.

SAM

Did I do or say something I shouldn’t have? I had the right password.

ORLANDO

Go.

(Carlos enters from another room.)

CARLOS

Wait. Poppa, sell the man a chicken.

SAM

That’s the guy I was talking about.

ORLANDO

Sell the man a chicken. Just like that?

CARLOS

Poppa, please. He needs it. We need the money.

ORLANDO

My son says to sell you a chicken. Which one do you want?

SAM

Senor Bawk-Bawk.

ORLANDO

Not Senor Bawk-Bawk.

SAM

Fido, then?

ORLANDO

Very well. (Orlando puts his rifle down, grabs Fido and snaps his neck. During his monologue, he plucks and dresses Fido using a knife he pulls from his back pocket.) When I came to this country, I worked on a farm in the southern part of the state. Acres of land. Acres. Covered with corn, sheep, chickens and several cows. I started there as a teenage boy. I fell in love with the farmer’s daughter.

SAM

Really?

CARLOS

Please. Do not joke. He has a sharp knife in my hand.

ORLANDO

As I was saying, Mahtilda’s father passed away and willed the land to us. Our family now ran the farm. Then the big corporations moved in. Wal-Mart moved in. No one wanted my wares any more. My wife left me. My children moved on. All except for Carlos. Maybe because he loves his poppa too much. Maybe because he is stupid. Now, I collect welfare and live in this tiny apartment. But farming is still in my blood. I raise chickens. I grow corn in the bath tub. There’s a sheep named Hilde in the bedroom. She’s not for sale. Here, Carlos. Take Fido’s carcass and wrap it up nice for Sam.

(He hands Fido off to Carlos who exits.)

SAM

Thank you. This means so much more to me than just picking up something half-frozen and wrapped in plastic and styro-foam.

ORLANDO

Treat it well. Cook it slowly. Roast it. 350 degrees, two hours. Lightly coated in canola oil and kosher salt. Do not fry it. Savor every bite.

(Carlos returns with Fido wrapped in butcher paper and hands it to Sam.)

SAM

How much do I owe you?

ORLANDO

There is no price I can put on the gift of one of God’s creatures for your table.

(Sam opens his wallet and takes out a twenty.)

SAM

All I have is this twenty-

ORLANDO (snatching it)

That’ll be fine.

SAM

Oh- Uh. Okay. You know what. It’s worth it. I’m giving it to someone who cares.

(Sam awkwardly hugs Orlando and leaves.)

ORLANDO

You gave him that thawed out frozen crap we bought at Costco, right?

CARLOS

Fido’s roasting in the oven.

ORLANDO (cleaning his knife)

Bring Hilde out of the bedroom. I think she and I are going to have a romantic dinner tonight.

(Carlos exits. Lights fade.)