Week 11, Day 73 - “A Ghost’s Story”

“A Ghost’s Story”
Written by Joe Janes
4/1/09
73 of 365

CAST
Franklin, 30s
Jenny, 30s
Victor, 70
Mata Hari, 30s

(Lights up on Franklin in bed, looking over mail, including a large, stuffed manila envelope. Jenny gets in to bed for the night.)

JENNY

Any good news?

FRANKLIN

Just bills.

JENNY

What’s that one?

FRANKLIN

Another returned manuscript.

JENNY

Not your new novel?

FRANKLIN

No. My agent’s on top of that. It’ll get picked up. This is, you know, Victor’s memoirs. “An Admiral’s Life.”

JENNY

An admiral’s long, boring, tedious life. At least you kept your part of the bargain and, thank God, so did Victor.

FRANKLIN

Yeah. You’re right, Jenny. At least he’s resting peacefully, now. Good night.

JENNY

Night, sweetie.

(They kiss and turn off the lights. After a moment, they hear ghostly wailing.)

JENNY (continuing)

Franklin…Franklin…Did you hear that?

(Franklin sits up. There’s another low wailing sound.)

FRANKLIN

Please let it be the wind.

JENNY

I don’t think it is.

VICTOR

Oh-h-h-h-h-h…Oh, hell. Wake up, would you?

(Franklin turns on the light. Standing at the end of the bed is Victor, a retired Admiral from World War I, in uniform. Oh, and he’s dead. And by that, I mean, a ghost.)

FRANKLIN

Hello, Victor.

JENNY

Victor. Long time no see.

VICTOR

Mrs. Delarose. Sorry to awaken you.

(Long pause as Victor looks off and Jenny and Franklin exchange glances.)

FRANKLIN

Victor. We had a deal. I write your memoirs and you stop haunting our house.

VICTOR

That is correct. We are men of our word, aren’t Franklin?

FRANKLIN

Then what brings you here?

VICTOR

You wrote the book, but where’s the book?

JENNY

There’s one right here.

VICTOR

I see it here. I only see it here. Why am I not seeing it at Borders?

JENNY

You go to Borders?

FRANKLIN

Books don’t just magically appear at Borders, like you apparently do. A publisher has to publish it and then distribute it.

VICTOR

Oh. I see. I’m just being impatient, is that it?

FRANKLIN

Yes, and, perhaps, a little unrealistic.

VICTOR

How do you mean?

FRANKLIN

My agent won’t touch it. I’ve piled up twenty rejection slips peddling this book on my own. Publishers don’t seem too keen to get your story out to the people.

VICTOR

But, I was an admiral in The Great War.

FRANKLIN

Yes, but…

JENNY

Just tell him, Franklin.

VICTOR

Yes, Franklin, tell me.

FRANKLIN

You were the most mind-numbingly dull admiral in the history of the world.

VICTOR

How dare you!

FRANKLIN

Let me read some of the rejection slips…(He picks up a pile of letters from a desk)…Ho Hum… Interminable… Vapid… Monotonous… Didn’t this guy do anything?...Too dry for our tastes…This would be great if we wanted our business to fail…Sorry about the blood stains, I stabbed out my eyes… And you know what, Victor? They’re right.

VICTOR

You just haven’t found the right one, yet. What’s the one that Oprah likes?

JENNY

Victor, you’re not listening. Here’s your book… As dictated by you to my husband… I’ll just flip through and read at random… “Monday morning, Sept 17th, 1910. Today I drank six ounces of tomato juice. It upset my tum-tum. I will try it again tomorrow. After that, it’s back to reliable old orange juice, sans pulp.”… “Thursday afternoon, May 13th, 1915. Today, I was to meet with the president of the United States…

VICTOR

That’s interesting!

JENNY

…but he cancelled and I ended up having tea with Army Colonel Jessup. He drinks his oolong straight. I don’t know how he does that.” And then it goes on about how you don’t remember what you talked about because you were busy wondering why the lemons were sliced so thin. For two pages.

VICTOR

They were absurdly thin. Try again. The good stuff’s near the end.

JENNY

…”As I got older, I realized it is the little things I will miss the most. On this one spring morning in 1928, I had a rough go at having a pleasant bowel movement.”

VICTOR

I still miss that.

FRANKLIN

Victor, I’m sorry. Your life was mundane. You didn’t fight in any battles, you weren’t married, no children. No rocking the boat. No out-of-control substance abuse. There’s no story here.

VICTOR (tearing up)

Well… Here, I thought… I just wanted people to remember me… At my funeral, the only people who were there were the ones who had to officially be there. None of them knew me, personally.

JENNY

We’ll remember you, Victor.

VICTOR

As a dullard.

FRANKLIN

Not true. You scared the hell out of us when you started showing up. I’ll never forget that.

VICTOR

You’re just trying to be nice.

(Mata Hari enters.)

MATA

There you are, Victor! Oh, hello.

VICTOR

Mata Hari, this is Franklin and his lovely wife, Jenny.

FRANKLIN

Mata Hari?

MATA HARI

Yep. Victor, Marilyn Monroe is trying maraschino cherry stems with her tongue. Thought you’d want to be there.

VICTOR

Just the thing to cheer me up.

FRANKLIN

You party with Marilyn Monroe and Mata Hari?

VICTOR

Sure. It’s the afterlife. Eternity. No hangovers. What else are we suppose to do?

MATA HARI

Some of us get hung up on legacy, from time-to-time. Are you done worrying about that silly book?

VICTOR

I do believe I am. Let’s go, pet.

FRANKLIN

Wait. Victor. This is your book.

JENNY

Your afterlife is far more interesting than your life ever was.

VICTOR

Oh, the stories I could tell. Stalin and Gandhi experimenting. Saucy stuff. The party really kicked in when Reverend Falwell hit the scene.

MATA HARI

But this guy’s the real party animal. I can’t keep my hands off him.

VICTOR

It’s the uniform.

FRANKLIN

Victor – let me write the story of your afterlife. I promise you I can get that published.

(He looks at Mata Hari for a moment.)

VICTOR

Nah – I’m not one to kiss and tell. See you on the other side.

MATA HARI

Tah-tah!

(They exit. Franklin and Jenny look at each other dumbfounded.)

JENNY

He is pretty hot in that uniform.

(Blackout)

Week 11, Day 72 - “Cannibal 78”

“Cannibal 78”
Written by Joe Janes
3/31/09
72 of 365

CAST:
Ant
Ram
Rae

(Lights up on Ram and Ant sitting on rocks, eating meat on the bone. In front of them is a platter full of meat decoratively displayed with a pith helmet.)

ANT

What is that? It good. What is that?

RAM

Wasabi.

ANT (nodding)

Wasabi.

(Rae, Ram’s daughter, enters. She carries a classic child’s dolly. She walks past Ant and Ram and plops down on the ground away from them in a huff.)

ANT (continuing)

What with daughter, Rae?

RAM

She hate me.

ANT

Why she not eating?

RAM

She all of sudden vegetarian. Like her mother.

ANT

Little old for dolls.

RAM

Not doll. Tofu.

(They both watch Rae eat the doll’s arm. Ant thoughtlessly picks up a toupee from the plate of meat and is about to eat it. Ram stops him.)

RAM

No, no. That garnish.

(Ant puts it back. Blackout.)

Week 11, Day 71 - "Cauldron Fresh"

“Cauldron Fresh”
Written by Joe Janes
3/30/09
71 of 365

CAST
Mark, 30s
Heather, 30s
Zelda, 100 or so

(Lights up on health inspector Heather with a clipboard and a white glove entering a kitchen followed by Friday’s manager Mark. Zelda is busy cutting vegetables. Zelda looks like a classic hag witch except she wears a red and white striped shirt, apron and paper hat.)

MARK

As you can see, Heather, we at T.G.I. Friday’s keep the front of the house sparkling clean. You can eat off any surface out there. Floor, ceiling, walls-

HEATHER

Tables?

MARK

Let us throw a disinfected plastic-coated cloth on it first, but yes.

HEATHER

Never judge a book by its cover, Mark, I always say. The true spirit of a restaurant lies here in the kitchen.

MARK

Well, you know, we’re very protective of the ingredients we use-

(She looks around. Zelda nods at Heather; Zelda dumps the veggies into a cauldron in the center of the room.)

HEATHER

What is that?

MARK

That is Zelda, our head cook.

HEATHER (pointing)

Not that that. That.

MARK

Oh. That’s our Amana Open Flame Self-Cleaning Cauldron.

HEATHER

I see.

MARK

It’s how we get that “country flavor” we’re so famous for.

HEATHER

And the country we’re talking about is…?

MARK

11th century Scotland, mostly.

HEATHER

You really shouldn’t have an open flame like this in the middle of your kitchen. It’s dangerous.

MARK

It’s pretty safe, actually. We installed good ventilation. Cement around the base. Zelda’s fully trained and the only one who uses it. In fact, she’s are only kitchen employee.

HEATHER (looks around)

You don’t have any ovens or grills or fryers. Not even a microwave.

MARK

Don’t need it. We do all our cooking cauldron-style.

HEATHER

You make fried BBQ Pork Fingers in the cauldron?

MARK

We’re out of it, right now, but yep.

HEATHER

Salads?

MARK

Cauldron fresh.

HEATHER

Desserts?

MARK

All cauldron-based cuisine. Would you like to see how it works?

HEATHER

Indeed, I would.

MARK

Zelda, go ahead and whip up a number 38.

(Zelda scoops up a bunch of ingredients off the counter and walks over to the cauldron. The lights shift as she speaks. Thunder rolls in the background and there’s the occasional spark of lightning. Kick starting a fog machine would be good here, too.)

ZELDA

Womb of the great goddess, hear our cries,
We give you gifts of lizard tail and dragon’s eyes,
The ground up wings of bottle flies,
Strips of dried flesh from Bill O’Reilly’s thighs!
So your loins may belch upon the world…

(The lights calm and the sound and fury subside.)

…A basket of lightly seasoned fries.

(She presents the fries to Heather. She tries one.)

HEATHER

This is actually really good. May I have another?

MARK

Please do, Heather.

HEATHER

I can’t believe how crispy and flavorful they are- oh, my head…I feel dizzy…

(Mark grabs her clipboard as she faints to the floor. He writes on it.)

MARK

Another successful health inspection for Friday’s.

(Zelda grabs a butcher’s knife and approaches Heather.)

MARK

And I’ll let the servers know that BBQ Pork Fingers is back on the menu!

(Zelda brings the knife down. Blackout.)

Week 10, Day 70 - “WE REACH WITH RADIO, Part Three”

“WE REACH WITH RADIO, Part Three”
Written by Joe Janes
3/29/09
70 of 365

Cast
Joe, late teens
Nadine, mid-30s
Rob, Jr, mid-40s


(Lights up on Joe in the small control room of a tiny radio station. He is getting ready to speak on the microphone as a lush instrumental song winds down.)

JOE
That’s “Leaving On A Jet Plane” as performed by 101 Strings. I think they cheated. I only counted 98. It’s ten minutes before the hour and time for Bulletin Board. The Erie Township Volunteer Fire Department is holding their annual Christmas in July fund-raiser. Join them this Saturday for games for the kids, chicken or muskrat dinner, and candy canes… and candy canes. And how about some Hot Buttered Popcorn?

(He turns on the turntable and turns down his mic. The instrumental “Hot Buttered Popcorn” plays. Joe takes off his headphones and sits back. Nadine quickly enters and closes the door behind her. She leans against the door.)

NADINE
Don’t do it.

JOE
Do what?

NADINE
Don’t do it, Joey.

JOE
Do what, Nadine?

NADINE
Just think it over. Think it over carefully.



JOE
We’ve already picked out rings.

NADINE
Listen to me. I don’t hate it here, but I hate it here. I got married after high school. 20 years later, I’ve got an asshole husband, kids that I love but they make me feel like my feet are in cement, I work a crappy job selling radio advertising for a dime and I drink too much. Don’t you see? There are things I wanted to do.

JOE
20 years?

NADINE
I meant ten.

JOE
I love Melinda.

NADINE
She’s a doll. You’ll end up hating her guts if you don’t get out of here.

JOE
How do you know that? You can’t know that.

NADINE
I see it all around me. This town eats people’s souls. Go to college. Experience life. Del Close said he’d give you a job at Second City.

JOE
He didn’t say that. He just asked me if I wanted to get high.

NADINE
Are you going to be happy here wondering what could have happened? You can’t support a family working here. You’ll end up working at U.S Gypsum or selling real estate. You’ll be overweight and alcoholic, trying to sleep with women half your age, and in the back of your mind will be a festering rotting dream that every once in awhile gives you
a headache that wonders what would have happened. What would have happened? Could you be on Saturday Night Live, could you be making movies or on TV?

JOE

We’re picking out the rings tomorrow.

(She kisses Joe on the forehead and looks him in the eye.)

NADINE
Don’t do it.

(She exits. Joe cues up another record. Rob enters and stands quietly for a moment.)

ROB
Joe J., I meant to mention this earlier. Is that a t-shirt you’re wearing?

JOE
Oh, yeah, I saw Woody Herman play last night. He was great. I didn’t think you’d mind. It’s Woody Herman; it’s a nice t-shirt. Cost me $20, more than I’d spend on a real shirt.

ROB
Yes, well, you know we do have a dress code. We have to look professional.

JOE
Yep. You never know who might be listening.

ROB
Don’t let it happen again, Joe J.

JOE
I won’t, Rob.

(Rob gives one good affirmative nod and exits. Joe locks the door. He cues up a different record. Drags the needle across the record currently playing and starts the other one. “Dog & Butterfly” by Heart plays as the lights fade.)

Week 10, Day 69 - “77"

“77”
Written by Joe Janes
3/28/09
69 of 365

CAST:
Reggie
Lionel
Ram
Ant

(Reggie and Lionel are pith-helmet-wearing British explorers tied to a stake. Cannibals Ram and Ant tend to them. Ram is feeding Lionel big spoonfuls of meat from a pot.)

LIONEL

I say, Reggie. I didn’t expect these cannibals to be feeding me so much.

REGGIE

What is it they’re making you eat, Lionel?

LIONEL

So far, I’ve had a Turkish explorer and a Dutch missionary.

REGGIE

Must be trying to fatten you up.

ANT

No. We just got Food Network. Ram trying to make cannibal turducken. Or in this case, Turk-Dutch-man. (Ant and Ram high five)

REGGIE

And what are you going to try to make with me? Rack of Reggie?

(Ant produces a large funnel with a long hose.)

ANT

Foie Gras!

(Ant shoves the hose into Reggie’s mouth and begins spooning corn into the funnel. Reggie struggles and makes “mouth full of hose” sounds. You know the kind.)

LIONEL

Buck up, Reggie. At least you’re going out a delicacy.

(Blackout.)

Week 10, Day 68 - “The Machine Also Rises”

“The Machine Also Rises”
Written by Joe Janes
3/27/09
68 of 365

CAST:
John, teens
Reese, 30s
Terminator
Old man with rifle

(In the dark, we hear gunshots and a truck squealing to a halt. Lights up on John, winded. Reese is in a truck that has pulled up next to him. He swings open the passenger door.)

REESE

Come with me if you want to live.

(More gunshots are heard offstage.)

JOHN

Okay.

(John hops in the truck and they take off.)

JOHN (continuing)
Who are you?

REESE

My name is Reese. I’m from the future.

JOHN

The future?

REESE

That’s right. I was sent here to save your life.

JOHN

Who sent you?

REESE

You did.

JOHN

But I don’t even know you.

REESE

Future you sent me.

JOHN

But if I’m alive in the future, then I must not die. So, I’m going to be okay.

REESE

Not necessarily. They sent an assassin back in time to kill you in order to change the future.

JOHN

Why not just kill me in the future?

REESE

Well, you cause a lot of problems. You lead a whole rebellion against all the machines.

JOHN

The machines. Toasters try to oppress us?

REESE

Yeah. Okay. Let me back up. Machines take over the world. Super computers. There are a group of humans that resist. You’re our leader.

JOHN

Are we winning?

REESE

Not really.

JOHN

Then what does it matter? Why did machines send some guy back in time to kill me?

REESE

They’re just trying to be efficient. And it’s not a guy. He’s a machine, too. A terminator.

JOHN
A terminator?

REESE

Yes. He won’t stop until he’s completed his mission. He’s unstoppable.

JOHN

O-kay. If I’m such a great leader, why didn’t I send you back in time, like, oh, YESTERDAY, before this unstoppable machine guy started taking shots at me?

REESE

Uh – I don’t know. That probably would have been a good idea. You should have thought of that.

JOHN

And why now? Why not before I was born? Kill my mother or something.

REESE

They tried that. In fact, my brother is your father.

JOHN

I sent some guy back in time and he binked my mother?

REESE

Yeah. You were pissed, but also not pissed, because of he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been born. Hey, I’m your uncle! How about that? Do you have any orders for me?

JOHN

Yeah, stay off my mother.

REESE

I’ll try. But your mom is hot.

JOHN

Stop the truck.

REESE

What?

JOHN

Stop the truck! That’s an order.

(Reese stops the truck and John steps out. Reese does, too.)

REESE

We can’t just stop. That thing is right on our tail.

JOHN

Good. He can kill me. The future sucks. Future me is an idiot. My mom’s a slut.

(An armed terminator, classic Arnold in leather jacket and sunglasses, enters.)

TERMINATOR

Are you John Connor?

JOHN

Yes. Shoot me already.

TERMINATOR

Come with me, if you want to live.

REESE

Too late, metal head. I’m already here saving his ass.

JOHN

Who sent you here to save me?

TERMINATOR

You did. About a week after you sent this man.

JOHN

Why did I do that?

TERMINATOR

He sleeps with your mom. It pisses you off.

JOHN

Don’t they have any poontang in the future?

REESE

We do, but, man, if a guy gets a chance to nail John Connor’s mom…that’s like laying history. It’s patriotic.

TERMINATOR

I agree. I plan on nailing her myself.

JOHN

But you’re a machine.

TERMINATOR

Yah. A sex machine. Would you put in a good word with your mom?

JOHN

If you’re here to save me, then who was shooting at me?

(Old Man with gun enters.)

OLD MAN

I was.

(Old Man points a rifle at John. Both Terminator and Reese fill him with bullets. Old Man drops the gun and stumbles into John’s arms. )

JOHN

You’re not a machine. Who are you?

OLD MAN

I’m you in the future.

JOHN

Why did you try to kill me?

OLD MAN

Tired…of…all…the bullshit. I used to be a lone orphan. I’ve sent so many people back in time; I now have eight brothers and some weird cyborg vacuum cleaner thing thanks to this jerk.

JOHN

Why not just kill yourself in the future?

OLD MAN

Oh. Damn. I didn’t think of that.

(He dies. Blackout.)

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.)