Week 36, Day 249 - "Typewriter Repair"

“Typewriter Repair”

Written by Joe Janes

9/24/09

249 of 365

CAST

Oswald, 60s

Ike, 30s

George, 40s

(Lights up on Oswald looking down through reading glasses working on the keys of an old typewriter. We hear a store bell ding as George walks in through the door. He is wearing an iPod. Oswald gives him a look. George nods and looks around the small store a bit.)

OSWALD

That’s a 1922 Underwood.

GEORGE (taking out ear buds)

It’s beautiful.

OSWALD

It’s a 1922 Underwood.

GEORGE

I feel like there should be an old candlestick phone right next to it. “Got a hot one for you, Mack - Governor and Mistress Caught in Love Nest. Stop the presses.” (He nods to himself) You restore these?

OSWALD

Restore and repair. Need a typewriter repaired?

GEORGE

Wish I did. Been by this place a million times. Looked in your window and decided, “What the hell?” I had an electric portable one in college. A Royal. Quite the popular guy on my dorm room floor. Everyone wanted to borrow it. A guy named Ted broke it.

OSWALD (pointing)

Did it look like that one?

GEORGE

Yep. Sure as hell did. Wow. Mine was dark blue, but this. Takes me back. So, this is what you do.

OSWALD

This is what I’ve always done.

GEORGE

All by yourself?

OSWALD

My son helps.

GEORGE

This is so great. You do this one thing, that you love, right?

OSWALD

That’s why I do it.

GEORGE

I don’t do anything.

OSWALD

Everybody does something.

GEORGE

Nothing like this. Not everybody gets to do something like this.

OSWALD

Not like I’m turning people away at the door.

GEORGE

But you make a living, right? You support yourself.

OSWALD

I sleep in the back.

GEORGE

In the back of the place where you get to do the thing you really love to do.

OSWALD

Guess so.

(Ike enters carrying take out. He is dressed almost identically to Oswald and wears similar glasses.)

IKE

I got us some gyros.

OSWALD

Jesus, Ike. Why not just take an eggbeater to my guts? Or just throw it in the toilet, because that’s where it will be in twenty minutes.

IKE

Hey. Whoever gets lunch gets to decide lunch. And, besides it’s cheap and next door.

OSWALD

Cheap and next door. Like your mother. (They laugh and then turn serious) God rest her soul.

IKE

God rest her soul.

GEORGE

You two are father and son?

IKE

Yep.

GEORGE

Man, this place just gets cooler and cooler. You do what you love and you’re passing your legacy on to your son.

(Ike and Oswald look at one another like George is crazy.)

GEORGE (continuing)

Typewriters. These are all like sculptures, works of art. I bet when they first came out, printers were crapping their pants.

OSWALD

How’s that?

GEORGE

You know, new technology. People could do what they do, but on their own.

(Ike shrugs.)

GEORGE (continuing)

Like computers today and how they’re killing newspapers. I can’t remember the last time I bought a newspaper. Hey, how much is this old Royal.

IKE

Seventy-five dollars.

GEORGE

Really? That’s what I paid for it in college.

OSWALD

Too much?

GEORGE

I thought it would be more, being an antique and all.

OSWALD

Well, it’s electric.

IKE

Not as much call for those.

OSWALD

And it did drop in value over the years. Now, since I restored it, the price crept back up to what it used to be worth.

IKE

Goes in cycles. Like life.

OSWALD

Like a looping typewriter ribbon.

GEORGE

Wow. You just blew my mind. I’ll get this. I’ll get this.

(Oswald, who has continued working on the typewriter in front of him, directs Ike to go get it. Ike puts down his gyro and brings the typewriter back to the counter. They conduct their transaction as they talk.)

GEORGE (continuing)

Why typewriters?

OSWALD

I love typewriters.

GEORGE

I know. I get that. But why? How did you know, “Hey… typewriters.”

OSWALD

Some people do cars. Some people do model trains. Electronics. For me, it’s the smell of the oil, the clack of the keys, the weight, the elegance of the lines. The pure human-driven mechanics of it. On these old ones. There’s no battery. The only battery is the brain. “War and Peace” was written on a typewriter. Lots of great novels were. Important documents, too. Peace treaties. There was no cutting or pasting or deleting. There was trying to get it right, thinking it through, thinking ahead and making big, sloppy messes.

IKE

What’s not to love?

(George picks up his typewriter and heads to the door.)

GEORGE

I’ll be back. And I’ll tell my friends.

(He nods and exits.)

OSWALD (looking at typewriter)

Is he gone?

IKE

He’s looking in the front window.

(Ike waves hesitantly. Oswald takes his gyro and holds it up.)

OSWALD

Eat this or throw it in the toilet. Ike shrugs and takes it. Lights fade as Oswald sneaks a look up at the window and does a small wave.)

Week 36, Day 248 - "Oblique Oblige"

“Oblique Oblige”

Written by Joe Janes

9/23/09

248 of 365

CAST

Pat, 50s

Mona, 50s

Carl, 50s

Belinda, 50s

(Lights up on Mona and Pat driving home at night. Pat is driving. Mona looks out the window. They are quiet. They are listening to a CD of Barbra Streisand’s Greatest Hits. Nothing going on but driving and Barbra. Suddenly the music stops cold. Pat looks at the CD player. He starts punching it.)

PAT

God damn, Goddamn, God fucking damn.

MONA

Easy, Pat. You got it.

PAT

Got what?

MONA

You taught it a thing or two. Leave it alone.

PAT

Piece of crap CD player.

MONA

Try the radio.

(Pat turns on the radio. All we hear is static. He tries to find a station. All we hear is static, static, static, BLARING MEXICAN MUSIC, static, static, static, static, static, static, more BLARING MEXICAN MUSIC. He shuts it off.)

PAT

God fucking damn.

(They drive in silence for a moment.)

MONA

The party was nice.

PAT

Yeah. It was. 30^th Anniversary, you think Carl and Belinda would spring for something better than a sheet cake from the grocery store.

MONA

The roast was good.

PAT

The roast was good. That Belinda knows how to stick it to meat. Where were you when I won the Jenga tournament?

MONA

Oh, uh, Carl was giving some of us a tour of their new basement.

(Mona looks out the window and quickly moves to stage right where Carl is banging her on top of a washing machine. They are both making hushed upper middle-age animal noises as Carl climaxes. He, exhaustedly backs away from her, putting himself together. She does the same, straightening out her dress.)

MONA

Happy anniversary, Carl.

CARL

Thanks, Mona. That was better than that shitty sheet cake.

MONA

Hope we didn’t dent your washing machine.

CARL

I wouldn’t worry about that piece of crap. I’m getting a new one next week. You’ll need to come back over and help me break it in.

MONA

As soon as this extra crease in my ass smoothes out.

CARL

Oh, shoot. Mona. I didn’t use any protection.

MONA

I don’t think you should worry about it. I never took off my girdle.

(Mona quickly moves back to the car and Carl exits.)

PAT

Was it good?

MONA

What?

PAT

The new basement.

MONA

It was okay.

PAT

Better than ours?

MONA

It was okay. Sorry I missed the Jenga tournament. What did the winner get?

(Pat quickly moves to stage right and starts groping and grinding against Belinda who stands rather stoically eating cake.)

PAT

Oh, Belinda. Belinda. Mona never lets me do this.

BELINDA

Do what, exactly?

PAT

This. This thing I’m doing. She never lets me do just this.

BELINDA

Doesn’t seem like you need much of a return volley in this game. Try doing it while she’s asleep.

PAT

She wakes up.

(Pat steps away from her and climaxes without touching himself.)

PAT (continuing)

Oh, God damn, Goddamn, God fucking damn.

(He goes back to holding her.)

PAT (continuing)

Was it good for you?

BELINDA

Unbelievable.

PAT

I thought so, too.

(Pat quickly returns to the car as Belinda exits.)

PAT (continuing)

What?

MONA

What’d the winner get?

PAT

Oh. Just, um, bragging rights. “I won.”

MONA

Yay.

(They go back to driving in silence.)

MONA (continuing)

Thirty years.

PAT

Long time.

MONA

Let’s see, if Phillip and I hadn’t divorced, heck, we’d still only be at twenty years.

PAT

My two previous wives combined don’t amount to twenty years, let alone thirty.

MONA

Wonder what their secret is?

PAT

What secret?

MONA

For being together thirty years.

PAT

Oh, right. Guess they just really love each other.

MONA

Guess so. Think we’ll make it to thirty?

PAT

Oh, hell, yes.

MONA

Me, too.

(She moves over and puts her head on his shoulder. They drive in silence for another moment. She smacks the CD player and it starts playing Barbra Streisand from where it left off. They both look surprised and laugh about it. Lights fade.)

Week 36, Day 247 - ""Climate Change

“Climate Change”

Written by Joe Janes

9/22/09

247 of 365

CAST
Scott, 40s

Kristi, 40s

Joanie, 20s

Raymond, 30s

(Lights up on Kristi sitting in a small folding chair in front of a tent. Scott crawls out of the tent and stands up and looks around.)

SCOTT

This was a good idea.

KRISTI

This was a great idea.

SCOTT

I love being outdoors.

KRISTI

It really makes me feel alive.

SCOTT

And eating nothing but what we fish out of the lake.

KRISTI

Living off this sweet, sweet land.

SCOTT

It gives.

KRISTI

It’s a giver.

SCOTT

We should do this more often.

KRISTI

We should do this all the time and go live inside for vacations. How effing great would that be?

SCOTT

I didn’t realize national parks were so cheap.

KRISTI

It’s like we’re stealing Mother Nature. Makes me want to tip the bears. With money.

SCOTT

Feel this. Feel my face.

(She does.)

KRISTI

Ouchy-oohy.

SCOTT

No place for a man to plug in his electric shaver out here.

KRISTI

Not an extension cord long enough.

SCOTT

Didn’t even realize there would be no electricity or phone service.

KRISTI

There’s that pay phone at the ranger station.

SCOTT

Pay phone? What’s that?

(They laugh.)

SCOTT (continuing)

Nothing but nature.

KRISTI

Nothing but nature.

(He gets teary and holds out his hand. She notices this and puts her hand in his. They hear an eagle fly overhead.)

SCOTT

Holy shit, that’s an eagle.

KRISTI

That is one beautiful fucking eagle.

(They watch it till it flies out of view.)

SCOTT

Makes you wonder what it’s all about.

KRISTI

Our lowly existence on this great majestic lump of spinning mud.

SCOTT

We are not worthy to step upon this land.

KRISTI

We should crawl in reverence, but that would actually put more of our body in contact with the ground. If I could, I would float.

SCOTT

Me, too.

KRISTI

And not eat or breathe.

SCOTT

And not eat or breathe.

(We hear a car pull up. A car door slams. Joanie, a pizza deliverer, enters carrying a pizza.)

JOANIE

This lot 826?

KRISTI

No, I-

SCOTT

Yes. Yes it is.

JOANIE

That’s $16.50.

(Scott fishes a twenty out of his wallet.)

SCOTT

Here you go. Keep the change.

JOANIE

Thanks. Be careful of bears. They like pizza, too.

SCOTT

Gotcha. Thanks.

(Scott sits down and opens the pizza box. He takes out a slice and is about to eat it when he notices Kristi glaring at him.)

SCOTT (continuing)

What?

JOANIE

Nature or pizza?

(Scott looks guilty and puts the pizza back, closing the lid. Raymond, in a big guy in a jogging suit not meant for jogging enters.)

RAYMOND

Hey, there, sort of neighbors. I ordered a pizza for me and my pain-in-the-ass kids and their equally painsome mother. You ain’t seen it, have you?

SCOTT

The pizza lady-

KRISTI

Just drove off. You just missed her.

RAYMOND

Fer chrissake’s. The dingbat. Hey, what’s that?

KRISTI

Oh, that. Just an old pizza box. We had some last night.

SCOTT

I was just about to throw it away.

RAYMOND

I’m heading by the trashcans, I can get that-

(Kristi quickly gets up and stands between Raymond and the pizza. They have an intense moment.)

SCOTT

There’s still a slice or two left.

RAYMOND (slowly backing off)

All right, then. Guess I’ll call that pizza place up and give them a piece of my mind. Probably get a couple free pies out of it.

SCOTT

Always a silver lining.

RAYMOND

I guess.

(He stares at Kristi one more time. He walks off. Kristi turns, sits, open the box and pulls out a slice.)

SCOTT

Nature or pizza?

KRISTI

Pizza.

(Blackout.)

Week 36, Day 246 - "Runaway"

“Runaway”

Written by Joe Janes

9/21/09

246 of 365

CAST

Billy

Ellen

(Lights up on Billy sitting on a stoop. He wears a windbreaker and he looks tired. He holds a stick with a bandanna tied in the end like a pouch. It is filled with a few things. A porch light comes on behind him.)

ELLEN

Billy?... Billy, is that you?

BILLY

Yeah. It’s me, Aunt Ellen.

ELLEN

Somebody looks like he’s a little down in the dumpsters.

BILLY

I guess.

(She sits down next to him.)

ELLEN

Run away from home, did ya’?

BILLY

I guess.

ELLEN

What’s the matter, Billy? What mean thing did my sister do, now?

BILLY

She never lets me watch what I want to watch on television.

ELLEN

That’s pretty serious.

BILLY

She’s always bossing me around, telling me what to do.

ELLEN

Yeah. That can be rough.

BILLY

She makes me clean up stuff that I didn’t even make messy, like the yard.

ELLEN

Well, sometimes everybody needs to pitch in. It is just the two of you.

BILLY

But sometimes when I come home, I’m just tired. I don’t want to do any of that stuff. I just want to eat, watch TV or play video games. Why can’t I do that?

ELLEN

We all wish we could play all the time. But, sometimes, you need to work a little harder. She means well. She loves you and cares about you.

BILLY

No she doesn’t.

ELLEN (putting her hand on his arm)

Yes, she does. You’re her little man. She just wants your help.

BILLY

You wouldn’t make me do any of that stuff if I lived here, would ya’?

ELLEN

Well, if you lived here, I might. Sure you’re ready to move into a new place? Doesn’t look like you brought a lot.

BILLY

I brought what I need. (He opens up the bandana.) I have the crust from a baloney sandwich – I ate the inside part, a clean pair of underwear, my Axe Body Spray, a pack of cigarettes and my Cialis.

ELLEN

I don’t think that will last you a very long time. Tell you what. (Standing up) Why don’t you come inside? I just made some chocolate chip cookies. You can have as many as you like. And when you’ve had as many as your little belly can hold and you’re starting to feel all sleepy, we’ll call your wife and have her come get you. Okay?

BILLY (stands up)

Okay. I’ll probably just drive back. Thank you, Aunt Ellen.

ELLEN

You’re welcome. Now, get your buns in there. (She smacks him on the behind as he enters the house.) Boys.

(Blackout)

Week 35, Day 245 - “Pinocchio"

“Pinocchio”

Written by Joe Janes

3/20/09

245 of 365

CAST

Pinocchio, 5

Geppetto, 60s

Figaro, 5

Jiminy, 30

Blue Fairy, 50

(Lights up on Geppetto putting the finishing touches on his new wooden puppet, Pinocchio. Figaro sleeps near his feet. Jiminy Cricket appears downstage.)

JIMINY

Oh, hi there. My name’s Jiminy. Jiminy Cricket. And I’m here to tell you about my good friend, Pinocchio. One starry night, I was walking past old man Geppetto’s toyshop when I saw the most amazing thing.

GEPPETTO

Just a little more paint, Figaro, and my puppet will be finished.

FIGARO

Meow.

GEPPETTO

There! Now, isn’t that nice?

FIGARO

Meow.

GEPPETTO

Oh, how I wish it were a real boy. I’d like to have a son. Never was quite able to master that “courting women” thing. But, a boy. Someone to teach my craft to, someone to give my love to, someone to claim as a dependent. Someone to clean my shop for free. You know what I’m going to call him? Pinocchio. You like that name, Figaro?

FIGARO

Meow.

GEPPETTO

Yeah. Me, too. Sounds like a card game. Maybe I’ll come up with a better name tomorrow. Maybe Lance or Ed. Oh, well, I’m sleepy. I’m an old man. I go eat a big ham sandwich and go to the bed.

(Geppetto exits. Figaro follows.)

FIGARO

Meow.

JIMINY

Geppetto went to bed and I got a closer look at Pinocchio. Red lederhosen and a yellow cap. What evil, twisted things did this Geppetto have planned? Suddenly, the room filled with a blue light.

(The Blue Fairy, a Chicago cop wearing a tutu enters.)

BLUE

Okay, Cockroach. Back away from the puppet, slowly now.

JIMINY

I’m not a cockroach. I’m a cricket.

BLUE

What’s the difference?

JIMINY

Well, for one thing, I chirp!

BLUE
Whoop-de-doo, a loud cockroach.

JIMINY

Just who the heck are you supposed to be with your shiny badge and big wings?

BLUE

I’m a cop. And I happen to be a fairy. Let’s leave it at that.

JIMINY

Am I in some kind of trouble?

BLUE

Do you live here?

JIMINY

No.

BLUE

Then you are in some kind of trouble. Stick around. I’ve got other business to tend to first.

(The Blue Fairy touches Pinocchio’s head with his magic nightstick.)

JIMINY

Then the Blue Fairy took his magic nightstick and touched Pinocchio’s head with it.

BLUE

Hey. Stuff a sock in it, and watch that fairy talk.

PINOCCHIO

What, oh, Lordy, my head. Hey, I can talk! I’m alive! I know words!

BLUE

That’s right, Pinocchio. I have given you life.

PINOCCHIO

Am I a real boy?

BLUE

No. You’re still just pieces of wood put together with an IKEA Alan wrench. You can become a boy, though. You must prove yourself brave, truthful and unselfish.

PINOCCHIO

Well, being wooden isn’t all that bad, I guess.

BLUE

Don’t you want to even try to become real?

PINOCCHIO

Not really? Sounds like a lot of hard work. Besides, I’ll last longer and never have to worry about eating or pooping.

JIMINY

Gotta side with the wood on that one.

PINOCCHIO

Ew! A cockroach!

JIMINY

Cricket, thank you.

PINOCCHIO

What’s the difference?

JIMINY

I have a hat. And I have the adorable name of Jiminy. Cockroaches have zero flair. And most of them are named Stan. If you had a conscience, you’d be a little more polite about such sensitive issues.

BLUE

There you go, Jiminy Cricket. I’ll let you off the hook for breaking and entering Geppetto’s Toy Shop if you help the puppet here become a boy. Be his conscience for him.

JIMINY

Crap on me.

BLUE

It’s settled then. Stay out of trouble, Pinocchio. If you don’t, I’ll be back.

PINOCCHIO

Bye, Blue.

JIMINY

Bye, Officer.

(Blue exits. Geppetto enters brandishing a baseball bat.)

GEPPETTO

What’s going on out here?

PINOCCHIO

Father!

GEPPETTO

Oh! My heart!

(Geppetto clutches his chest and falls to the floor. Dead.)

JIMINY

Oh, no! He’s dead.

PINOCCHIO

This is the worst day of my entire life.

JIMINY

I don’t see how things could get any worse.

(Figaro walks in upright eating a ham sandwich. Figaro sees Jiminy, drops the sandwich and switches into full on cat attack mode, growling. Figaro grabs Jiminy and drags him off.)

JIMINY

Help, Pinocchio! Help me! He’s got my head in his mouth! (We hear a large crunch sound.)

PINOCCHIO

Jiminy Cockroach! I’ll save you!

(Pinocchio grabs the baseball bat and runs off. We hear him beating Figaro to a pulp. Pinocchio comes back in covered in blood and bits of fur, The Blue Fairy returns.)

BLUE

All right, wood boy. Step away from the body.

PINOCCHIO

I didn’t do anything, honest.

BLUE

Honest? Ha. Three dead bodies, you covered in blood and holding some wooden phallus. Should have trusted my gut about the red lederhosen. No one sane wears red lederhosen.

PINOCCHIO

What will happen to me, now?

BLUE

That’s up to the judge. But I wouldn’t want to be in your clogs.

(Blue drags Pinocchio off. The ghost of Jiminy Cricket appears.)

JIMINY

And Pinocchio lived happily ever after. Well, not at first. Pinocchio is charge with manslaughter. He serves five years in a maximum-security prison. One time in the laundry room, he is sodomized with a broomstick which catches his ass on fire. He loses the ability to sit. Once free, he gets a minimum wage job at Felony Franks on the South Side serving up hot dogs. One day, he stands too close to the open flame grill and loses his right arm. He now lives off of worker’s comp and keeps a room at the Y. He never became a real boy, but he does enjoy their company. That’s happy, right? (Off stage we hear a ghostly “meow.”) Gotta go!

(Blackout.)

Week 35, Day 244 - “Late"

“Late”

Written by Joe Janes

9/19/09

244 of 365

CAST:

Funeral Director, 50s

Minister, 50s

Widow, 40s

Daughter, teens

Grandmother, 60s

Derek, 40s

(Lights up on a funeral home. We hear organ music playing lightly in the background. A grieving family is gathered around the “casket” – four chairs lined up downstage. The minister is consoling the crying widow. Her daughter is to her side. Her grandmother stands next to her, sobbing with one hand on the coffin. The widow looks at her watch and looks over at the funeral director who shrugs slightly. Derek enters with a to go cup of coffee.)

DEREK

I am so sorry.

(He finishes off the coffee and hands the empty to the funeral director.)

DEREK (continuing)

Really. You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to get here.

(He kisses the grandmother on the cheek, touches the daughter on the shoulder, sheepishly shrugs to the widow.)

DEREK

Well, I’m here, now. That’s the important thing, right?

(He straightens his tie and steps over the back of the “chairs” and into the coffin and lies down. Dead.)

WIDOW

I knew it. Late to his own funeral.

(Blackout.)