Scenes from Three Scripts

Brian and Paul nurse pints of beer at the bar.

Brian

Ingrid Bergman.

Paul

Rita Hayworth.

Brian

Greta Garbo.

Paul

Marlene Dietrich.

Brian

Not so much.

Paul

Oh, come on — The Blue Angel? All the von Sternberg films? You’ve gotta be kidding.

Brian

Strange German women don’t sit well with me.

Paul

“Strange German” is redundant. I think it’s because you’re afraid of being dominated by a strong woman.

Brian

Whatever. I just don’t like naked will-to-power types.

Paul

Oh, for God’s sake.

Brian

It’s true, though. Joan Crawford? No. Bette Davis? Nope. You give me Audrey Hepburn, then we’ll talk.

Paul

No way. Audrey Hepburn with those big empty doe eyes and her Givenchy dresses? No fucking way.

Brian

Breakfast at Tiffany’s!

Paul

Fuck Breakfast at Tiffany’s! Oh, look at me! I’m Audrey Hepburn! I’m a Mob whore! Aren’t I CUTE? ...She sucks, she sucks, she sucks. There’s only one Hepburn in Hollywood and her first name is Katherine.

Brian

Wow, a gay man who likes Katherine Hepburn. I’m shocked you haven’t busted out with Judy Garland yet.

Paul

Kiss my ass.

Brian

Katherine Hepburn is sexless. Which is why you like her, because she doesn’t act like a woman.

Paul

Like a woman is supposed to. And you have a lot of nerve to talk about Katherine being sexless when you bring up Audrey “Meat Puppet” Hepburn. And where the fuck is Marilyn Monroe?

Brian

Too campy. Too exaggerated. I want a woman, not a cartoon. Maybe like Barbara Stanwyck.

Paul

You want the impossible is what you want.

Brian

There’s gotta be one woman we both agree on. We can bridge this gap.

Paul

Always the optimist.

Brian

Louise Brooks.

Paul

Damnit.

Brian spots someone across the bar — Sarah, fending off a semi-drunk guy. Paul notices he’s lost Brian’s attention.

Paul

What?

Brian

I must save her.

Paul

Save her? Save who?

Brian

Her. She’s being attacked by a nimrod.

Paul looks. He sees. He sighs.

Paul

Breeder-meter on overload.

Brian

I’ll be back.

Paul

No, you won’t.

He does. (Sort of.)

Brian and Emma — his ex, still close — take their seats at the symphony. Her boyfriend Bjorn plays violin in the orchestra.

Emma

Oh! “Eroica.”

Brian

Huh. Beethoven’s 3rd symphony.

Emma

It’s one of my favorites.

Brian

Is it the one with the chorus?

Emma

No, that’s the Ninth. Come on. I played it all the time in the apartment!

Brian

Wait — oh yeah! Okay. I remember now. Yeah, that’s cool. I like that one.

Emma

I swear, you have the worst memory for things like that.

Brian

Well, that’s why I keep you around. To be my music library.

Emma

I’m not talking about music.

Brian

Then what are you —

The lights go down. A flash of red hair catches Brian’s eye — a cellist near the front of the stage.

Backstage after the performance, Emma and Bjorn chat happily. Brian’s attention wanders.

Emma

That was such a nice surprise!

Bjorn

I knew how much you liked it.

Brian

Yeah, it was cool. I liked the part in the middle the best. With the horns and stuff.

Bjorn

I’m sorry, which part is that?

Emma

Stop that.

Brian sees the cellist carrying her cello into a dressing room. He wanders off, allegedly for water, and knocks on her door.

Kirstin (offstage)

Just a minute!

He walks in anyway.

Kirstin

Hey!

Brian

Excuse — — me...

(She is, notably, wearing nothing but a cello.)

Kirstin

Didn’t you hear what I said?

Brian

I thought you said “Come in.”

Kirstin

No. I said, “Just a minute.”

Brian

Oh. My bad.

The door clicks shut. He doesn’t move for about fifteen seconds.

Brian

Oh, to be a cello.

Later, properly dressed, she reappears.

Kirstin

You’ve seen quite a bit.

Brian

And yet so little.

Kirstin

How the tide has turned! A moment ago you were ready to throw yourself at my feet.

Brian

I still might, if you’re into that.

Kirstin

Are you always this —

Brian

Forward?

Kirstin

Obnoxious.

Brian

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.

Kirstin

You shouldn’t give up so easily.

Brian

Most women find persistence annoying.

Kirstin

Only if it’s overbearing. And if the woman’s not interested.

Brian

Are you always this —

Kirstin

Forward?

Brian

Intriguing.

Kirstin

That’s not what you were going to say.

Brian

Yes it was.

Kirstin

Why don’t I believe you?

Brian

Honestly, I meant to say “intriguing.”

Kirstin

Honestly? Now I definitely don’t believe you.

Brian

That’s my story and I’m sticking by it.

Kirstin

We’ll get the truth out of you yet.

Brian

I’m Brian.

Kirstin

Hello, Brian.

Brian

And you are?

Kirstin

Waiting for you to ask me what my name is.

Brian

What is your name?

Kirstin

Kirstin.

Brian

Kristin?

Kirstin

No, Kirstin.

Brian

Sorry.

Kirstin

I get it all the time.

Brian

(in the gutter) Really. ...(recovering) I can see that.

Kirstin

Well, we know where your mind is.

Brian

I’m sorry.

Kirstin

You’re sorry that you saw me wearing nothing but a cello?

Brian

Oh boy.

Kirstin

It’s okay. Someday we’ll sit back and laugh about it.

Brian

I hope so.

Brian

So. Um.

Kirstin

Time to go.

Brian

It was lovely meeting you.

Kirstin

I bet.

Brian

Oooookay.

Neither of them moves.

Kirstin

I’m waiting.

Brian

For what?

Kirstin

For the inevitable.

Brian

What’s that?

Kirstin

You were about to do it.

Brian

What? What am I about to do?

Kirstin just smiles and waits.

Brian

Would you like to get together sometime?

Kirstin

What did you have in mind?

Brian

Oh, I don’t know. Grab some coffee, talk, discuss your cello. MUSIC. Discuss your music, not your — okay, why don’t I walk away, and we’ll forget this ever happened, and then someday we’ll run into each other on the street and we’ll try again?

She smiles, pulls out a pen and paper, writes something down, and hands it to him.

Brian

What’s this?

Kirstin

My phone number.

Brian

Cool. Very cool.

Kirstin

And now it’s time to go.

Brian

I’ll give you a call.

Kirstin

We’ll see. Good night.

Brian

Good night.

Kirstin walks off. Brian finally relaxes.

Brian

Holy shit.

A coffeehouse table, outdoors. A waiter brings them coffee and departs.

Kirstin

Thank god it’s not folk music. I couldn’t stand the thought of some tank-top clad dyke harpy wailing about her labia.

Brian

Holy shit.

Kirstin

Am I wrong? It’s totally true. It’s why I hate going for coffee.

Brian

You hate going for coffee? Why didn’t you say something?

Kirstin

I was going to, but this coffeehouse turned out nice. See, there are only two types of coffeehouses. The first is your Starbucks big chain place that’s sterile and minimum wage and reeks of banality, and then there’s the grungy, hippyesque small time place with dyke harpies and the overwhelming stench of patchouli and hoi polloi soi-disant grade school political bullshit. And yet, you’ve managed to find a third type, neither sterile nor stinky.

Brian

I’m all about the middle path.

Kirstin

Funny.

Brian

Thanks. I try.

Kirstin

No, really, it’s cute. Chicks dig that. Cosmo wasn’t lying, you know.

Brian

Oh, good. I thought it was a conspiracy to give us funny guys false hope.

Kirstin

Ever do comedy?

Brian

Every day of my life.

Kirstin

Why aren’t you acting full-time?

Brian

Isn’t that a little direct?

Kirstin

Yes. ...You don’t have to answer.

Brian

No, it’s all right.

Kirstin

No, I mean that I already know.

Brian

Oh, really?

Kirstin

Yes. It’s scary to embrace something you love. Because love is lack of control, being at the mercy of something else. It’s very disconcerting.

Brian

You speak from experience.

Kirstin

I do what I love every day of my life. Sometimes it’s totally brilliant and I know I could conquer the world. Other times the music slaps me around like I’m Tina Turner.

Brian

(in an Ike Turner voice) Baby, why you gotta make me hit you?

Kirstin

(laughing) Exactly!

Brian

I’m glad you appreciate domestic violence humor.

Kirstin

See? You’re funny! Wife beating equals funny!

Brian

That’s my theory.

Kirstin

Nice. So tell me something interesting about yourself.

Brian

Something interesting about myself...hmmm...how interesting do you mean?

Kirstin

No skeletons, please. Appropriate first date revelations.

Brian

Damn.

Brian

I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue.

Kirstin

No you can’t. You’re lying. You’re a fucking liar. No guy on this planet has ever been able to do that.

Brian

I can! It’s true. I’m the Cherry Master.

Kirstin

I don’t believe it.

Brian

Do you have a cherry?

Kirstin

Yes, I keep a cherry on me at all times.

Brian

Fine, then, you’ll just have to believe me.

Kirstin

We’ll see. Liar.

Brian

So?

Kirstin

Yes?

Brian

Something interesting about you?

Kirstin

Are you sure?

Brian

As long as it’s not disgusting.

Kirstin

Hmmm.

Brian sips his coffee.

Kirstin

I’m celibate.

Brian nearly kills himself with the coffee.

Kirstin

Are you okay?

Brian

(sputtering) Wh — ow, god...

Kirstin

Do you need some help or something?

Brian

No, just fine! Yes. Yes. Just a bit surprised, that’s all.

Kirstin

As long as you’re not burnt or anything.

Brian

Oh, no, I’m fine. Fine. Yes. Hmmm. Very interesting revelation.

Brian

So when you say...“celibate,” just...just what, exactly...what do you...what does that mean?

Kirstin

It means no sexual contact of any kind.

Brian

Ah. Yes. Of course. That’s — that’s very interesting.

Kirstin

Not really.

Brian

None at all?

Kirstin

None.

Brian

So, what defines sexual contact?

Kirstin

Kissing, on down the line.

Brian

Kissing’s not sexual.

Kirstin

Excuse me? How do you kiss someone?

Brian

No — I mean, it’s — it’s — it’s sensual.

Kirstin

That’s the same thing.

Brian

No, there’s a subtle difference.

Kirstin

Semantics. Splitting hairs. Grasping at straws.

Brian

No kissing?

Kirstin

None whatsoever.

Brian

Okay.

Kirstin

Do you want to leave?

Brian

What?

Kirstin

I’m giving you an out, no hard feelings, no strings attached. Do you want to leave?

Brian

No! No, of course not.

Kirstin

A lot of guys would want to leave.

Brian

Well, I’m not a guy.

Kirstin raises an eyebrow.

Brian

I mean, I’m not like most guys! Not like! Yes...uh...no. No, I do not want to leave.

Kirstin

Really?

Brian

Yes, really.

Kirstin

Okay, then.

Brian

Okay.

Kirstin

We’ll have to talk about something other than my celibacy.

Brian

We’ll get there. Eventually.

Kirstin smirks.

On the set of Sadler’s ultra-low-budget epic, “Fluff You Up.” Brian, in Edwardian costume and a fake moustache, sits between two vats. Sadler, Zen and scruffy, holds court from a chrome wheelchair.

Gregg

We’re going to have problems with his glasses.

Sadler

What...sort of problem?

Gregg

The lights are going to glare off them too much. We won’t see his eyes.

Sadler

Get some water. Take the lenses out of the glasses. We’ll just use those for close-ups. How is my star doing?

Brian

The moustache tickles.

Sadler

Well, what can I tell you? Archibald Query was a mustachioed gentleman. Some say that it was his moustache that granted him not only his insatiable lust, but also the exact recipe for marshmallow fluff.

Brian

Do they say that the inventor of marshmallow fluff was a gigolo?

Sadler

A gigolo? A GIGOLO?

Sadler bolts up out of the wheelchair.

Sadler

Only an unenlightened mind would claim that Archibald Query’s legendary prowess with the ladies was motivated by money! He was fucking AMAZING at amazingly fucking! You cannot separate the fluff from the muff! THIS is who you are portraying, Brian — this Titan, this STUD in the purest sense.

Brian

How do you all know this?

Sadler

Ouija board.

Brian

Right.

Amber arrives on set — bleached blonde, and, per the screenplay, “quite frankly, stunning.”

Sadler

And THERE SHE IS! Mrs. Archibald Query!

Amber

Hi, Sadler!

Sadler

Hello, mamasita. Amber, I want you to meet Brian. He’s your co-star.

Amber

Archibald Query?

Brian

The same. A pleasure to meet you, Amber.

Amber

Nice to meet you too!

Sadler

Get acquaintanted, I have to pee.

He ambles off.

Brian

So, what other work have you done?

Amber

Oh, this is only my second movie.

Brian

What else were you in?

Amber

It was Sadler’s first movie. Boston Sex Party.

Brian

Holy shit. You were in Boston Sex Party?

Amber

Yeah! It was sooo crazy.

Brian

How’d you end up in that?

Amber

I mentioned that I danced at the Foxy Lady, and he starts telling me about this crazy movie he’s doing, and it sounded wild, so I said, Sure! I played the part of Amber.

Brian

Must have been easy to stay in character, then.

Amber

What? ...Oh! Because her name was Amber, and my name — right. I can be such a blonde sometimes, I swear!

Brian

And it’s self-inflicted, too.

His cellphone rings. He answers without looking.

Brian

Hello?

Sarah (offstage)

Hello, someone just called me from this number.

Brian

Sarah?

Sarah (offstage)

Yes?

Brian quickly moves away from Amber.

Brian

Sarah, it’s Brian. Brian Sharp.

Sarah (offstage)

Oh, Brian! Hi! How are you?

Brian

Fine! Fine! I’m sorry, I — I’m so sorry, but I’m on set right now and I meant to dial another actor, but I called your number instead. I’m sorry.

Sarah (offstage)

That’s okay. Call me back later?

Brian

Sure. Hey, do you have AIM?

Sarah (offstage)

Yeah.

Brian

Look for me on there. My name’s “bsharp.” I’m online a lot.

Sarah (offstage)

Boring day job, huh?

Brian

Something like that.

Sadler

Places, people! Places!

Brian

I gotta go. Call you later?

Sarah (offstage)

Sure!

Brian

Okay. Bye.

He hangs up, looking relieved.

Amber

Who was that?

Brian

Oh, just a friend.

A production assistant hands Sadler a jar of fluff with a large plastic spoon.

Sadler

All right! Let’s shoot this fucker!

Brian

What are you doing?

Sadler

Channeling.

He swallows a huge spoonful of fluff.

Brian

Oh God!

Sadler

Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeah.

Brian

That’s disgusting!

Sadler

I started last night. I am going to eat nothing but fluff until this movie is completed. To honor our subject, the very brilliant and very sexy Archibald Query.

Brian

You’re gonna go into a sugar coma.

Sadler

Who’s the director here, talent? Don’t make me go Herzog on your ass! Roll camera! Roll sound!

“Fluff You Up, scene 5, take 1.” ...And — ACTION!

Brian

Ahh, yes, you must be the new assistant. Welcome to my laboratory. I am the head scientist here, Archibald Query. And what might your name be?

Amber

Amber, sir.

Brian

Amber, is it? Excellent. I hear tell you are an up-and-coming food scientist yourself.

Amber

Oh, thank you, sir. But it’s such an honor to be working with you. Your reputation is legendary, and not just in Lynn!

Brian

Notorious, you mean. I know how they disapprove of my methods. They think me a madman, wild, sinful. Don’t they know that the basis of both candy and lust is the same? Passion?

Amber

I know, sir. I know what kind of passion drives a man like you to create such wonderful treats. You just want to share that passion with the rest of the world. But they don’t want people to know that kind of joy. They want to restrain it. But you can’t restrain yourself, sir.

Brian

How right you are.

Weeks later, same bar. Paul and Brian, mid-conversation.

Paul

So are you going to tell me what happened?

Brian

Nope.

Paul

Why not?

Brian

You’d never believe it.

Paul

Oh, come on —

Brian

Besides, I don’t think I can explain it.

Paul

Oh, fine. I know anyway.

Brian

What? No, you don’t.

Paul

I do.

Brian

How?

Paul

Gay men have a particular insight into this sort of thing.

Brian

You can’t use your homosexuality as a reason for universal knowledge.

Paul

Why not? We’re much smarter than you straight boys. Deal with it.

Brian

I’ve known plenty of dumb fags in my lifetime.

Paul

Yeah, but they’re smart where it counts.

Sarah has just entered the bar. She sees Brian and stiffens.

Paul

Hey, don’t you know her?

Brian puts out his cigarette and walks over.

Brian

Hi.

Sarah

Hello.

Brian

How are you?

Sarah

Fine. You?

Brian

Fine.

Brian

Sarah, I’m sorry.

Sarah

(simultaneously) You’re an asshole.

Brian

As long as we’re both agreed.

Sarah

I don’t just sleep with anyone, you know. It was my choice to go to your place. And I wasn’t looking for a one night stand, but the least you could have done was be honest with me instead of stringing me along. I’m a big girl. I don’t have time for these kinds of games.

Brian

You’re right. You’re absolutely right. It was unfair. But I didn’t know what I wanted. Or needed, for that matter.

Sarah

You could have told me that.

Brian

I didn’t know that until very recently. But I’m still sorry, and you didn’t deserve that.

Brian

How’s the painting?

Sarah

Fine, it’s going fine — hey, how did you know I was painting again?

Brian

When did you start?

Sarah

The day after we hooked up.

Brian can’t help but laugh to himself.

Brian

Would you like to go on a date?

Sarah

Are you serious?

Brian

Yes. An honest-to-God, let’s-get-to-know-one-another no-expectations date. Because we might work well together, and I’d be stupid not to see.

Sarah

I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. You burned me once before.

Brian

This time I won’t.

Sarah

Maybe.

Brian

Maybe?

Sarah

Maybe.

Archibald Query premieres. “THE END” hits the screen. On screen, Brian’s Archibald Query finishes his closing monologue:

Brian

And here we are, at the end of this, our long struggle. How often have our vexed endeavors ended in nothing but foulness, wasted ingredients poured down the drain. But every once in a while, it all falls together perfectly. They say that genius is 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration. Well, I don’t know about their math...but there’s a whole lot of sweat in this jar.

The house comes down. Sadler, in a powder-blue tuxedo, takes a bow and waves Brian up. Thunderous applause. Later, a crowded restaurant table.

Sadler

Oh god. Protein. Fucking protein. Waiter! Waiter! Bring me a carafe of orange juice! Oh my god, sweet meat. Vegetables! Holy crap.

“Would you like to see the dessert menu?”

Sadler

Fuck you. Bring me some lamb. Oh my God.

Paul

I can’t believe I just saw that on screen. That was fucked up beyond belief. Sadler’s either a genius or he should be locked up.

Emma

And you — you were fucking incredible.

Brian

Oh, stop.

Amber

No, you were.

Brian

No, what about you? What about —

Amber

Oh, please. I was all right, but you stole the show.

Brian

Now I’m embarrassed.

Sarah

Why?

Brian

Because I’m supposed to be.

Emma

Hey. I’m really proud of you. About everything.

Brian

I couldn’t have done it without you.

A hostess approaches: “There’s a messenger at the front for you.”

Brian

If you all got me a strip-o-gram, I’ll kill you.

At the door, a bicycle messenger waits, impatient.

Brian

Hi, I’m Brian Sharp.

Messenger

Yep. Got a letter for you, special delivery. Sign here, please.

Brian signs. The envelope slips out of his fingers.

Brian

Whoops!

As he picks it up, he notices the messenger’s sneakers have wings painted on the heels.

Messenger

Have a good night.

The messenger runs out. The envelope is cream-colored, Brian’s name in script, a treble staff on the back flap.

Inside, in delicate script: “Brian — My older sister told me that there’s a new production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream getting ready. I think you’d make the perfect Lysander. — K. P.S. Congratulations!”

Brian

(smiles)

He watches a blinking taillight disappear around a corner, then turns back toward the table.

Tourists, self-conscious and embarrassed, sit in an amphibious Day-Glo pink tour boat. Paul, 64, grizzled, in a tri-corner hat and a Santa jacket, has the mike and a very thick Boston accent.

Paul

Welcome to Boston Duck Tours. My name is Paul, and I’m your tour guide. Just so you know something about me, I wasn’t always in the tour guide business. I was born and raised in Worcester, was in the Navy for six years, served honorably, fought in Korea, I was decorated, but then I got laid up, with the clap, and it was a wicked painful thing, but I learned a lot about myself, so it all turned out good. So after my discharge, I came back home to Boston, and I started the Duck Tours. A lotta people ask me why I still drive on ’em, and that’s because Boston is the greatest city in the world.

The tourists are more than a bit uncomfortable by Paul’s biography.

Paul

So don’t you worry, folks, I’m the best tour guide in town. I know this city better than I know my own navel. Every nook, every cranny, every lint-filled part, I got it down pat. I love everything about this city, except the Celtics, who went to hell the instant Bird left, so don’t get me started. A few rules. First off, if we start sinking, there are life vests above you. And don’t panic — I’m a very experienced seaman. Second rule is, we’re an institution here, and people sometimes shout “Quack quack” whenever they see us. So if anyone says “Quack quack,” you guys gotta shout “Quack quack.” Okay? Let’s give it a try. Quack quack!

The tourists say “Quack quack” like a bunch of embarrassed tourists.

Paul

Oh, I know we can do better than that. Let’s try it again. Quack quack!

The tourists say “Quack quack” with more enthusiasm but plenty of embarrassment.

Paul

All right, that’s better. Is everyone ready for an adventure?

The tourists respond, “Yes.”

Paul

Wicked. All right!

Alex and Rebecca, wrapped in sheets, head for the kitchen for water. John’s door opens — John and Heather, also sheet-wrapped, nearly collide with them.

John

Whoa!

Alex

Jesus!

Heather

Oh my!

Rebecca

Well, this is different.

Alex

What are you doing?

John

Getting water. What are you doing?

Alex

Getting water.

John

Well. Well. We can get water together.

Alex

Sure.

The four of them head into the living room — and find Jeff and Susan asleep on the pull-out couch, sharing one sheet.

John

Whoa!

Alex

Jesus!

Heather

Oh my!

Rebecca

Yeah, this is different.

Jeff and Susan start to wake up.

Alex

Why is there a naked Goth couple on our couch bed?

John

Well, they had a bit too much to drink, so I told them to make themselves at home.

Heather

And they took you at your word.

Jeff

Huh...hey. Hey, guys. Honey, look. It’s Heather and John and Alex and Rebecca.

Susan

Why are they all wearing sheets?

Rebecca

We’re getting water.

Jeff

Water! Great idea.

Alex

I’ll get it. You stay in bed, dear.

Alex returns with a pitcher and six cups, pours for everyone, and sits next to Rebecca.

Jeff

Hey. Is everybody naked?

John

It certainly appears that way.

Susan

Ooh! Orgy!

Heather

I don’t think so! I mean, I love you guys, but...

John

Wait one cotton-picking minute. Why the hell are you two naked?

Alex

Well, you see, John, when a man loves a woman, they lie down naked next to each other —

Susan

You...?

Alex

(a bit embarrassed) Yes.

Jeff

Guh...gu-gu-gu...

Heather

So I guess...I guess it’s official.

Susan

Oh my god.

Jeff

Gu-gu-gu...

John

This is weird.

Alex

I know. Freaky, isn’t it?

Jeff

Gu-gu-gu...

Rebecca

Get a pencil under his tongue.

Heather

Freaky doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Rebecca

What do you mean?

Jeff

You and her. Having sex. Hello???

Alex

Stranger things have happened.

Jeff

Like what?

Alex

Um...Cannonball Run.

John

He’s got a point, Jeff.

Heather

Okay, listen — are you two happy?

Rebecca

Yes. Very.

Heather

Fine. End of discussion.

Pause. There’s a lack of anything to be said.

John

You ever brush your dog’s teeth?

Everyone looks at John.

Alex

Where the hell did that come from?

John

I dunno. It just popped in my head.

Heather

I never had a dog. Dogs are stupid. Cats rule.

Jeff

I had a dog. We called him Satan. I loved that dog. Pain in my ass, and he shit all over the place, but I loved him.

Alex

What happened?

Jeff

My little brother attached jumper cables to him. I loved that dog.

Everyone tries to process this.

Susan

What are we going to do with the rest of our lives?

Heather

What do you mean?

Susan

I mean, what’s going to happen now? After this?

Jeff

After what? The orgy?

Alex

I plan on going to sleep sometime.

Rebecca

Who knows? I mean, we make the best of what comes our way. If a bad day comes, you deal. If a good day comes, you live it for all it’s worth.

Susan

I don’t think I could face any bad days. Lord knows I’ve had enough of them.

Alex

We’ll all become rich and own the world.

Jeff

I want to be God Emperor of the planet.

Susan

And what does that make me?

Jeff

Goddess Empress.

Alex

I call Towel Boy.

Rebecca

I’ll be the Dominatrix.

Alex

Oh, no comment. No comment at all. I bite my fucking tongue.

Rebecca

Watch it.

John

Can I be the Bard? You know, tell heroic tales and sing ballads and wear a leather armor and shit. And a codpiece, I’ll need a spectacular codpiece.

Heather

What would I be? Oh, I know. Sorceress. Casting love spells on people.

Jeff

That’s fine. As long as I decide who lives and who dies.

Susan

Oh, I don’t know...

Jeff

Come on! I’d load a leaf blower full of broken razor blades and dispense instant justice on the streets.

Susan

My future husband, everybody.

John

You make Sadler look normal.

Rebecca

Listen — you have no idea what’s gonna happen tomorrow, so just live in the Now. Eat, drink, schtupp, and have a good time, right?

John

Preach on, sister.

Pause.

Susan

I wish I could believe that.

Everyone laughs, although Susan’s is a tad nervous.

HORACE, the Assistant Subdaemon in Charge of Soul Collection for the United States, sits at a desk, writing on a huge scroll with a quill. He is a once-handsome man who has had all his attractiveness sucked out of him by his circumstances — wrinkled jacket, an ugly brown-striped tie, slacks too short for him. ART enters, wearing an even uglier tie. He gives off the air of someone you would love to hit.

Art

Horace! Pal, buddy, compadre!

Horace

Hello, Arthur.

Art

Say, Horace, is it hot enough for ya?

He laughs as if that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

Art

Get it? Hot enough! Cause we’re in...

He doubles over laughing.

Art

Hot!

Horace

Arthur...

Art

HOT! Cause it’s HOT! Oh, man, turn up the A.C., ’cause it’s HOT!

Horace

Arthur...

Art

Oh boy, but you know, it’s not the heat — it’s the HUMIDITY!

Horace

Arthur, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say.

Art

What? Horace! Buddy! Call me Art!

He playfully punches HORACE in the shoulder. Pause.

Horace

Art. I have known you for five years now. And on every day of those five years, you walk in here with the same shit-eating grin, lean on my desk at exactly the same place, and say “Hot enough for ya?” Can’t you come up with something even marginally original?

Art

Man, Horace...you are one funny cat. Hey, I was walking on the 173rd floor and I see this DYNAMITE broad! I mean, you wanna talk about tits? Hell-OOOO!!! Car 54, Where Are You? I mean, this chick could have breast-fed Africa for twenty years!

Horace

I’m going to feed your balls to wolves.

Art

Horace, my favorite of all favorite chums, this is exactly your problem! No sense of humor. I mean, look at it! We’re in Hell! I’ve had bad jobs, but this is ridiculous!

Goes into spasms of laughter.

Art

The only way you’re gonna keep a happy face is if you learn to laugh! I mean, take David Letterman! Now, there is one FUNNY GUY...

Horace

Shut up, Art.

Art

...like, last night, Teri Garr is on, and he just blatantly slides his chair right up to hers...

Horace

Shut up!

Art

But who could blame him? For an old lady, she’s got quite a set of melons, huh?

Horace

You idiot!

He grabs a folder and starts slapping ART on the head with it.

Horace

SHUT UP!

He shoves ART away. Pause. ART is unfazed.

Art

You gonna finish that sandwich?

He nonchalantly takes HORACE’s sandwich and starts eating it.

Horace

What are you doing??

Art

Chicken salad! Not half bad. You get this from the vending machine?

Horace

Give me...my sandwich, and...GET OUT OF HERE!

He pushes ART offstage.

Art

Oh...by the way...this...

He walks back onstage with two armloads of paperwork and dumps it on HORACE’s desk, scattering files.

Art

...is for you. Looks like you’re busy for a while? Welp, see ya at lunch! Hey, they’re serving boiled cabbage and potatoes today! Can’t wait!

He walks out, whistling. HORACE watches him leave, and shakes his head.

HORACE tries to clean up the mess, then gives up. He pulls out a cigarette, lights it, takes a huge drag, and angrily exhales.

Horace

You wanna know something? This job sucks. Oh, sure, your jobs suck too, right? Go fuck yourselves. Your jobs are cake. You get up at 8, go to work, suffer for a little while, go home, bitch about your job, have some beers, and fall asleep watching the Ricki Lake Show. Well, look at me. Look at what I’m wearing. I wouldn’t wish this tie on my worst enemy.

Pause.

Horace

I didn’t want this job. I was trained as an artist. Modern sculpture. I was good — the state government even bought one of my pieces. It was “Diving in Hamburg.” They put it in a bus station. And then the Citizens for Decency got all riled up and filed a protest and they took it down. People shouldn’t have problems with dead squirrels arranged in a crucifix, okay? Am I wrong on this? Then, one day, I step out into the street and get smacked by a dump truck. And here I am.

Pause.

Horace

Just look at this place. Hades would be so much better if I ran it. The boss — he’s so traditional. Whipping, drowned in acid, being devoured by vultures — passé. I know people in Times Square who would make him blush. I have some truly great ideas for eternal punishments. One of them involves a bottle of vinegar, Pop Rocks, and the business end of a Weed Wacker. You see, you take the vinegar —

Thunder crashes. Lights suddenly change to a very hellish red.

Voice of Satan (offstage)

HORACE!

HORACE is knocked off his stool.

Horace

S...sir! Oh, sir! Good evening, sir! I was just...doing that...thing...that I do to...serve you!

Voice of Satan (offstage)

Don’t even try to lie, Horace, you were talking to the audience.

Horace

Well, they were there, and I felt it best to explain the circumstances of my afterlife to them, O Mighty and Gracious Tyrant!

Voice of Satan (offstage)

Gracious? Did you describe me as GRACIOUS?

Horace

I meant it in the most evil way possible, Your Malevolence!

Voice of Satan (offstage)

What arrogance! Do you realize how good you have it here? You could be knee-deep in shit while Rastafarians use your head as a steel drum. But you’re not doing me any good wasting precious office resources here. Perhaps I should give you a new assignment.

Horace

You...mean it? A new assignment? Oh, Mighty Satan, whose name inspires fear in all men, oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Voice of Satan (offstage)

Shut up! I can still change my mind.

Pause.

Voice of Satan (offstage)

Perhaps some field work would do some good. Are you good with people, Horace?

Horace

Yes, sir.

Voice of Satan (offstage)

That’s a bald-faced lie. But I’m going to give you an opportunity to prove your lowly words. Have you ever done any sales?

Horace

Well, sir, I worked as a telemarketer for a while.

Voice of Satan (offstage)

Ah yes, telemarketing...that was brilliant of me, wasn’t it? Oh, very well. Here’s your chance, Horace. There are four young people I’ve had my eye on for some time. They’re young, they’re stupid, and right now they’re playing drinking games. If you get them to sell their souls, I’ll bump you up on the hierarchy. Get their souls, Horace. Get them. Close the deal. Always be closing. ALWAYS...be closing.

Pause.

Voice of Satan (offstage)

What are you waiting for, Horace? Go! I don’t have all day!

Horace

You can count on me...sir.

Lights fade. Noise subsides.

Horace

Jackass.

Red lights up full. Thunder peal.

Voice of Satan (offstage)

WHAT?

Horace

On my way!

HORACE runs off.

TODD, TRACI, AARON, and KATIE sit around an apartment living room, drinking beer and playing Never Have I Ever. They are all slightly drunk.

Traci

Okay...I’m going.

Todd

Go. C’mon.

Katie

Don’t rush the poor girl.

Aaron

Go go go go go...

Traci

Shut up! I can’t think!

Traci

I never had sex in a swimming pool.

Everyone drinks.

Katie

Hey...there could be some people in the world that have never had sex in a swimming pool. Don’t force your moral standards on other people.

Aaron

That’s great. Who let her in here?

Katie

Okay, shut up. It’s my turn. I never...had sex while I was driving.

Todd

Oh, fuck you, Katie. Don’t even talk to me.

He drinks.

Traci

You had sex in a car while you were driving?

Todd

Hey, the trip to Disney World can get very boring.

Aaron

I never had sex with a person twenty years older than me.

TODD stares at AARON, and then drinks.

Todd

Bite me. I never...had sex in my dorm room while my roommate was there.

TODD drinks, then stops when he realizes that everyone else is staring at him.

Traci

I never masturbated while my roommate was in the room.

TODD takes another drink.

Katie

I never used Spam as a sexual toy.

He stands up.

Todd

Okay, we’re stopping NOW.

Katie

Sick. You’re truly sick.

Todd

Spam can be very erotic.

Traci

Spam?

Todd

Oh, don’t act so shocked, Traci. You could use some Spam in your life.

Aaron

Traci, how’s the play coming?

Traci

Spam?

Todd

Would you forget about the fucking Spam?

Aaron

Traci. Play. Acting. How is it going?

Traci

Uh...fine. Fine.

Katie

Oh, what part do you have?

Pause.

Traci

I am a Gentlewoman.

Todd

Yes, you are.

Katie

Ooh, Traci, I think he likes you! And you’re old enough to drive!

Aaron

So...do you...have any lines?

Traci

No.

Aaron

Ow.

Traci

It’s my first play. I wouldn’t expect to get a big part the first time.

Todd

But still, no lines?

Traci

Could we please change the subject?

KATIE gives TRACI a little hug.

Katie

We’re just giving you shit.

Traci

It’s just depressing, because there’s this one girl who’s amazing. I can’t compete with that.

Katie

Forget about it. Theater people suck.

Long pause. There is a knock on the door.

Aaron

Who the hell is that?

Katie

You expecting anyone?

Aaron

No, you guys are it.

AARON opens the door. HORACE is standing there. Lights go to hell red and evil music plays.

Horace

Greetings.

Aaron

No thanks, we’re not interested.

AARON slams the door. Lights return to normal. The door flies open again. Red light and music as before. HORACE enters.

Aaron

Listen, we already get Details. And we’re all pretty much strapped for cash...

Horace

I’m not here to sell you magazines, you pompous twit.

Katie

What the fuck?

HORACE makes a gesture and AARON goes flying backwards, crashing on the ground. Pause.

Todd

Oh wow! It’s a Jedi Knight!

Traci

Did you know Mark Hamill is the voice of the Joker on Batman: The Animated Series?

Horace

EXCUSE ME!!! Thank you. Now then, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Horace, and I am here...to make you the offer of a lifetime.

Aaron

A set of encyclopedias?

Katie

A membership in Greenpeace?

Traci

You’re selling M&M’s to support your Little League team?

Todd

A small Asian child?

Horace

No, no, no, and hell no. Those are passing things — material goods that bring little or no long-term fulfillment.

Horace

STOP IT! Now listen to me, you shit-for-brains do-nothing slacker toads!!! I’ve been sent here to ask you kindly for your souls, for which, in return, you will get ANYTHING you want! ANYTHING! Cars, jewelry, women, men, fame, fortune, ANYTHING!

Pause.

Todd

Did you say women?

Horace

Yes, I did say women. Any woman. Many women. Strong women, weak women, blondes, brunettes, redheads, any sort of women you desire.

Pause.

Todd

And what do I have to give up for this?

Horace

Your soul.

Traci

Wait a minute...our souls? What are you, Satan or something?

Horace

Well, not yet. I’m Satan’s right hand man.

Aaron

Holy shit. Holy shit. You’re not kidding, are you?

Katie

Wait one goddamn minute. You expect us to believe that you’re a demon from Hell?

Horace

Why not?

Katie

Well, for one thing, I’d think you’d be dressed better. I mean, you dress like my dad.

Horace

Everyone in Hell gets a standard outfit. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t be caught dead in these clothes if I had a choice. But I don’t.

Horace

Your friend over there — wants power and money. Traci — wants to be a famous actress. The Progressive Nightmare sulking on the couch doesn’t even know what she wants. But you, my lonely friend...you want a woman.

Shift in lighting.

Horace

Not just any woman, either. You want your dream woman. You’ve been searching for so very long, haven’t you? Always worrying about commitment, emotional ties, what it means...just wishing for a woman like you’ve been promised all throughout life. A woman that loves you and cares about you and only has thoughts for you. Because that’s what it all boils down to, isn’t it, Todd? You’ve always had this fear, locked inside your heart, that if you ever found the right woman, she’d betray you. That’s why you’ve been going through women like toilet paper. Because they’ll hurt you in the end. They always will.

Pause.

Horace

Except...for this one.

THE WOMAN enters, in a negligee that does a fine job of showing off her body. She slinks over to TODD, who is dumbfounded, and starts stroking his hair.

The Woman

Hello, Todd.

Later. Having caught Horace in a lie about his tenure, KATIE has grown suspicious. A beeper goes off; HORACE is summoned, chewed out, and told backup is on the way. He returns to the apartment, dreading who it might be.

Horace

Who is he sending here? Who could he possibly be sending?

Suddenly realizing.

Horace

Oh, NO...

ART walks through the front door, briefcase in hand.

Art

Hi, guys! How ya doing?

Horace

FUCK YOU, SATAN!

Aaron

Who’s this guy?

Art

Art’s my name, and selling’s my game! Wow! Isn’t this great? A little fresh air, meeting new people, getting out of that stuffy office...

HORACE drags ART downstage.

Horace

Listen, you schmuck! This is MY sale! Mine, do you hear me? This is my ticket to a better afterlife! Now, if I get in a bind, you help me out. Other than that, you shut up. Capisce?

Art

Hey, Horatio, no problemo! I’m a master of sales! Did some back when I was — you know, not dead! See, when I was in college, I was selling magazines door to door —

Horace

Oh, fucking shit. Okay okay okay!!! Just — just shut up and let me do the talking.

They go back to the living room.

Horace

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to introduce my partner, Art.

Katie

Are you a devil, too?

Art

You betcha! Assistant Adjunct Clerk to the Department of Soul Collections. Yessiree, I’m the Numero Uno Diablo!

Aaron

This guy’s a tool.

Art

Oh, come on, Todd —

Aaron

Aaron.

Art

Aaron? Well, I’ll be damned. Wait, I already am! ...Cause I’m in...HA!

He is once again in breathless hysterics.

Art

Man, that’s comedy! So, wanna sell your souls?

Horace

ART!

Art

Horace, relax! Let a pro handle this! Now, don’t think of it as selling your soul. Think of it as a lifetime investment.

Katie

We’ll be dead.

Art

Well, it’s a long lifetime.

Horace

Art...

Art

Kinda like forever.

Horace

ART...

Art

But look at the cool clothes they give you!

Horace

ART!

Katie

You two deserve each other.

Horace

SHUT UP! Just SHUT UP! I am getting DAMN tired of this petty abuse! I’m here to make your lives wonderful, and you just spit in my face! That’s gratitude for you!

Katie

I didn’t ask you to make my life wonderful! You bargein here, make a complete ass of yourself, and you say you’re going to answer my dreams? I don’t think so. Did you know that Todd is a fabulous writer? He’s brilliant. But you’re gonna tie him down to that idiot slut, totally destroy him. You want to turn Aaron into another cheater, another liar, another pawn. You want to destroy me. You want to make me a broken wretch who can’t rely on myself. Well, fuck you! I will not break! I will prevail against you and anyone else who wants to get in my face! So back off!

Art

That was BEAUTIFUL! Oh, geez, in all my life I have never been more moved by the English language! Touching! Heartwrenching! Gorgeous! Can I get your phone number?

Katie

So, how ‘bout it, Horace? You gonna give it up? You can’t turn any of us.

TODD stumbles onstage, clothes and hair a mess.

Todd

Praise Satan!

Horace

Well? How was she?

Todd

Can’t talk. Must replenish fluids.

TODD goes to the fridge and chugs water.

Todd

Wow...she is not a woman. She is a goddess. Oh, yes. Where do I sign?

Traci

Todd, don’t!

Aaron

Todd, you can’t do this, man. You’re talking about your soul. Nothing is worth that.

Todd

Well, I’m an atheist.

Horace

Atheist! Hoo boy...nothing. I mean, if you’re an atheist, then you don’t believe in Hell, so this means nothing.

Todd

Yeah...I guess...all right, gimme the contract.

HORACE pulls a contract out of his briefcase, along with a quill. He jabs TODD in the arm, causing him to bleed.

Todd

Ow! Whadja do that for?

Horace

We need ink. Let’s go to work.

He hesitates for one moment, then signs his name. HORACE and ART are immensely relieved.

Art

Congratulations!

Horace

You are now the proud owner of Your Perfect Woman. Let’s bring her out!

THE WOMAN comes out — hair mussed up, a fire in her eyes.

Aaron

What? Are you fucking nuts? You just screwed over Todd and now you expect the rest of us to fall for it? Get the fuck out, you deranged psychopath!

Traci

Give us that contract!

Horace

No way! This contract has been signed! And once it’s official, nothing on Earth can destroy it! Todd is locked in!

Aaron

No he’s not! It’s not notarized!

Horace

What?

Aaron

The contract isn’t notarized. It’s not official.

He starts laughing.

Horace

Notarized??? Gimme a fucking break! You think Satan is an accountant? Notarized!

Katie

That is ENOUGH! I don’t care what I have to do, but we are getting that contract! You are screwed, Horace! You are meat on a stick!

Horace

Just shut up, okay? You’ve got a big ugly mouth and it grates on my ears and — now you’re making me insult you and I really really really NEED you to sign a contract because if you don’t I’m deader than dog shit so I’m sorry for losing my cool but you’re really pushing me and I’m on edge so would you please relax and sign the contract?

Katie

No! You think you can get away with this? Not a chance in Hell!

Horace

Not a chance in —! What do you know about Hell? Hell is the worst thing imaginable! It’s FOREVER! I sit at a desk and write names into a scroll! I have no idea why I’m doing it! And you know what’s gonna happen now that I only have one signature? I’m going straight back to that desk! FOREVER! You people have fucked me over good!

Pause. Suddenly, the sound of thunder starts rumbling throughout the stage. Lights go to red.

Art

Oh no! It’s the BOSS!

With a loud thunderclap, the door swings open. SATAN, immaculately attired, is standing there, smiling, holding a briefcase.

Satan

Greetings.

Aaron

That’s Satan, isn’t it?

Satan

Yes. A pleasure to finally meet all of you. Please, please, PLEASE watch your language around me. I have virgin ears.

SATAN sits down on the couch. HORACE and ART keep their distance.

Satan

I’ve been monitoring the progress of my two...salesmen there, and I can see they have botched things up good.

Katie

Well, Art’s just a weirdo. It’s Horace that’s the asshole.

Horace

Katie!

Satan

Silence, fool! Yes, I do apologize for Horace. He isn’t a very good worker. You see, what we at HellCo really do is help the living achieve their goals in life. Don’t think of it as damnation — think of it as your Final Promotion.

Todd

Wait, Satan...I’m...not completely satisfied with what I got.

Satan

Oh? Well, we can change that, I’ll just amend the contract. Horace, the contract.

HORACE scurries and gives the contract to SATAN. He sees something on it.

Satan

Art. The notary stamp.

Art

The what?

Satan

The notary stamp! Horace forgot to notarize the contract!

Art

I don’t have a notary stamp.

Art

Oh! The stamp thingy! Here it is!

He searches his pockets.

Art

Hmmm...knew I had it somewhere...

Katie

Wait! If the contract isn’t notarized, it isn’t official, is it?

Satan

Well, technically, no, but —

KATIE grabs the contract and tears it in half.

Satan

NO!

Katie

Haha!

Todd

Yes! Free! Oh, Katie, I love you!

Big group hug.

Satan

You’re a resourceful, clever bunch. It’s a shame you can’t work for me. Actually, I do have someone to blame.

Turns to HORACE and ART.

Horace

Sir, I swear, I knew nothing about notarizing the contracts!

Satan

You two are in a world of shit.

Thunder clap. HORACE and ART scream. Lights go to red, then blackout. Pause. Red light slowly fades up on HORACE, downstage, in a fetal position, whimpering.

Voice of Satan (offstage)

Oh, Horace...

Horace

Wh...what happened?

Voice of Satan (offstage)

You’re back in Hell, Horace. No more punishment by boredom. I’m getting medieval on your ass.

Horace

No, not that...Sir, I swear, I tried my best! And I knew nothing about notarizing the contracts!

Voice of Satan (offstage)

I know. That’s because I never told you.

Horace

Well, how was I supposed to get their souls if the contracts weren’t notarized?

Voice of Satan (offstage)

You weren’t.

Pause.

Horace

This whole thing was a setup?!?

Voice of Satan (offstage)

Congratulations! You win the prize! You get to spend the rest of eternity knee-deep in shit while Rastafarians use your head as a steel drum! You’re in a world of shit!

Horace

But why? WHY????

Voice of Satan (offstage)

Because, Horace...I’m the boss.

“Stand Up For Your Right” by Bob Marley starts playing. VOICE OF SATAN turns to laughter. HORACE is reduced to wailing and howling in despair. BLACKOUT.