WIN A REAL NON-VIRTUAL PRIZE: A hardcover edition of Tennessee Williams’ last play, SOMETHING CLOUDY, SOMETHING CLEAR, COMPANY by Sondheim and Furth, RACING DEMON by David Hare, Terrence McNally’s LOVE! VALOUR! COMPASSION! Or, a first run copy of TOUGH COOKIES when it comes roaring off the press from Samuel French or you might want to view with other adults only, my homoerotic thriller about one man’s search for God, THOR’S DAY on DVD filmed at Wings Theatre in NYC. You choose. All you have to do is write a play that is at least one page and NO more than two pages. That’s it!
DO NOTpost it in the forum. Send it to me directly at edd@edwardcrosbywells.com with "FORUM CONTEST" in the subject line. Deadline: THE LAST DAY OF EVERY MONTH. Each month, when I have made my decision, I will post all the plays on the forum at the same time for all to read. At least six entries to validate the contest are required. Should there be less than six entries those plays that were entered will roll over to the following month.
I will make my decision based on what tickles, amuses, wows me, or is simply a reaction to what I ate that day. This contest is not scientific and I am certainly no judge of what is "best." I know what I like and what I like less and that's pretty much all there is to it. Don’t hate me for being beautiful. It’s meant to be fun.
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AND NOW FOR THIS MONTH’S WINNER!
There were nine submissions this month—8 ½ really. And surprise, I truly enjoyed every one. Mary Alice Mark’s FOR EVERY FLEA THERE IS A REASON is charming and imaginative. Alan Woods’ THE DANISH gave chuckles and reminded me of my own addled life. THE GIFT OF FRIENDSHIP by Sam Stone touched my heart and it felt good. Randall David Cook’s NOT QUITE READY TO SAY GOODNIGHT is clever, smart and goes to show what dramaturgy is all about. There is MOVIE DIALOGUE by Don Dewey. That’s where the ½ comes in. Keep in mind that Don titled it “Movie” and not “Play” Dialogue. I giggled from Leon Kaye’s delightful AUDITION and Kris’ THE DISCONNECT is wonderful. Then there are two elevator plays, both terrific. TRADITION by Luana Krause is delightful and fun to visualize and Shirley King’s GOING UP? is our other elevator play. What can I say about GOING UP? Well, it’s clever, laugh out loud funny, and a marvelous indictment of the times in which we live. The winner of the September challenge is GOING UP? by Shirley King.
Congratulations to all 8 ½. They and you are all well-worth the read.
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Shirley, pick your prize and email me your postal address. And, finally, here are all the entries. Thanks guys!
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GOING UP?
By Shirley King
(JACK enters the elevator, pushes a button.)
VOICE: Sir, you cannot go up In this elevator.
JACK: Well of course I can. That's what elevators do. They elevate.
VOICE: Please turn your pockets inside out.
JACK: What? Who are you?
VOICE: In the interests of national security, do as I say.
JACK: Look, all I've got are my wallet and keys. Okay?
VOICE: And that bag in your hand?
JACK: My lunch, for godsake. Tuna on rye.
VOICE: And?
JACK: Okay, okay, a sliced apple in a baggie.
VOICE: A baggie? Sir, we will need to check that baggie.
JACK: This is insane. (Starts pushing buttons.) Let me off this elevator!
VOICE: Remain where you are, Sir. An agent will be with you shortly.
JACK: No! If I'm late to work again I get fired. Let me off. I'll take the stairs.
VOICE: We must wait for the agent.
JACK: Okay, then where the hell's your agent? How long do I have to wait?
HILLARY'S VOICE: Sir, this is Agent Johnson speaking. Please open your lunch bag and display the contents where I can see them.
JACK: Where are you? You've got cameras in here?
HILLARY: Do as I say. Wait -- are you Jack Martin?
JACK: Oh, my god. Hillary Johnson? From Fairmont High? Hillary, you know me. You know I'm not a terrorist.
HILLARY: Here's what I know about you, Jack. You asked me out and then never showed up, leaving me sitting at home in my formal on prom night.
JACK: Hillary, I'm sorry. I can explain. Really.
HILLARY: A little late, don't you think?
JACK: Remember how I avoided you after that? There's a good reason. My dad grounded me on prom night. I was so ashamed that I couldn't face you.
HILLARY: Well, I'll need to think about this. Bye, Jack.
JACK: No! Let me outta here!
HILLARY: Don't worry. I'm going for coffee. Give me ten minutes and then I'll call and tell you exactly what you need to do to be released.
JACK: Thank you, Hillary! Don't forget to call. I'll be waiting. Meanwhile I better phone my office. (JACK holds his cell phone to his ear.)
VOICE: Sir, your cell phone does not work in this elevator. Repeat: your cell phone does not work in this elevator.
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MOVIE DIALOGUE
By Don Dewey
Lights come up on a bare stage. MAN stands to the left shaking his head. WOMAN comes along on the right and sees him.
MAN: (to himself) Shit! Shit! Shit!
WOMAN: Are you okay?
MAN sees WOMAN.
MAN: What?
WOMAN: Are you okay?
MAN goes back to his head shaking.
MAN: Shit! Shit! Shit!
WOMAN approaches MAN and touches his sleeve.
WOMAN: Let's get out of here.
MAN and WOMAN run off stage as lights come down.
END
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AUDITION
A SHORT MONOLOG
By Leon Kaye
c. 2007
Pretty, young, AMY, stands on an empty stage, play script in hand.
JEFF, director, sits in the audience.
JEFF: Thank you very much, Miss Romeo. Don’t call us, we’ll call you.
AMY: But you won’t call, will you?
JEFF: Just a nice way of saying, “next”.
AMY: You don’t understand, theatre is in my blood. When I was ten years old, I was playing at Lincoln Center, and I say this to everyone cause I want them to think I was on stage when I was just playing jump rope in the parking lot. But I got the theatre bug in me and I had to be on stage. I just had to.
So I auditioned for the part of Crowd Member #5 in my middle school production of Les Mis, and I got understudy… And when I tried out for high school chorus, my teacher told me not only should I not be in the chorus, but I should be barred from singing in the shower. (starts to cry)
Once in high school, I tried out for Maria in West Side Story. They said I could play the lead if someone lip-synched my vocals. (blubbering) I tried out for Juliet and lost out to my brother!
So I dropped out of school, cashed in my college bonds and bought a one way train ticket to New York… from New Jersey – but still. I was determined. I’ve been waitressing, driving cabs, selling heroin, all to make fast money so that I could one day fulfill my dream – to play a small role in any two bit, admission free, avante-garde, no frills, bare stage, badly written stage play I could find. But everywhere it’s no. No, no, no, no, no! (falls to her knees) I don’t think I can take any more. This is it. This is my last audition. Either you cast me or my life is over! (sobs uncontrollably)
JEFF: (waits for her to regain control) Miss Romeo? (beat) Ya ever think of auditioning for a soap?
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THE DISCONNECT
A Very Short Play by Kris
(Lights come up on CONNIE and LOUISE drifting around a shopping “rounder” of women’s clothes, sliding hangers along the circular rack as they shop)
CONNIE: (Into cellphone)… but when I saw the chip in the sunlight, it had too much salmon in it, so I told Tom to tell the painter not to come until we choose another color but he couldn’t reach him, naturally –
LOUISE: Excuse me…
CONNIE: (Into phone) Just a minute. Somebody wants to… (To LOUISE) Yes?
LOUISE: Would you mind taking your conversation out of earshot? It’s very distracting.
CONNIE: What? What did you say?
LOUISE: I asked if you wouldn’t mind taking your conversation elsewhere. It detracts from the overall shopping experience.
CONNIE: Well! I never! (Into phone) Sandy, you won’t believe what just happened! Some woman asked me—
LOUISE: Excuse me. I’m aware of what I said. I don’t need to hear you repeat it.
CONNIE: I don’t believe this! Look. I don’t know who you think you are, but this is a free country and I can talk on my cell any goddam where I please!
LOUISE: If you wish to be perceived as a boor, then, yes, I suppose you can.
CONNIE: A bore! (Into phone) Did you hear that? (To LOUISE) Sandy says to tell you you’re a bitch. (Into phone) What? Oh. (Holds out phone) Sandy wants to talk to you.
LOUISE: I have no desire to talk to Cindy. I only wish to shop without eavesdropping on inane conversations about paint chips. Or potato chips, or chipped nails, for that matter.
CONNIE: Listen, you … you insane person! I’ll talk about whatever I please, whenever I please, wherever I please! (Into phone) I don’t know who this woman thinks she is—
LOUISE: Excuse me. Did you call me insane?
CONNIE: What? What did you just say? (Into phone) No, not you, Sandy.
LOUISE: (Advancing) I distinctly heard you refer to me as “you insane person.” You did, didn’t you. You called me insane. That’s not nice. I don’t like it when people call me insane. That upsets me. Rick called me insane once. You remember Rick, don’t you? He was in all the papers. …
CONNIE: (Retreating, whispering into phone) Sandy, call 9-1-1! This lady is a loon. No, really. I’m getting out of here!
(CONNIE hastens toward exit, while LOUISE laughs maniacally. After CONNIE exits, LOUISE abruptly stops laughing and resumes shopping.)
(Lights go down)
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The Danish
By Alan Woods
Scene: a breakfast nook. GLADYS, age 85, HERB, age 88, are reading the newspaper and sipping coffee There are crumbs on his plate. He reaches for a Danish.
GLADYS: Isn’t that your third Danish?
HERB: No. I’ve only had one.
GLADYS: I put out three Danishes. There’s only one left.
HERB: So? You had a Danish, I had a Danish. That’s two.
GLADYS: I didn’t have a Danish.
HERB: Of course you did. You always have a Danish. I always have two Danishes.
GLADYS: I decided to cut out Danishes.
HERB: Since when?
GLADYS: Since Dr. Weill said they were bad for old people. Too much saturated fat.
HERB: Who’s Dr. Weill? Are you seeing a new doctor?
GLADYS: No. He writes books about how you can live longer if you watch what you eat. So I’m watching what you eat. That’s your third Danish. From tomorrow, no more Danishes.
HERB: But I like Danishes. I’ve had Danishes for breakfast since …. Well, since before we were married. How long ago was that?
GLADYS: You don’t know?
HERB: I can’t remember. We’ve always been married, haven’t we?
GLADYS: I knew it. Alzheimer’s. That’s the first sign. Trouble remembering things.
HERB: I’m as sharp as I was when we got married…. 30 years ago.
GLADYS: When we got married, 60 years ago, you forgot the ring. I was so embarrassed. In front of everybody, there you are, searching your pockets, swearing out loud. Put back the Danish.
HERB: But I want the Danish.
GLADYS: And I want you to be around longer than this afternoon. Put back the Danish.
HERB: (sighs. Puts back the Danish) Ok, ok. Is there any more coffee.
GLADYS: That’s another thing….
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TRADITION
by Luana Krause
Newlyweds in elevator, embracing and snuggling throughout conversation.
YOUNG WOMAN: Darling, when we get to our new apartment, are you going to carry me over the threshold?
YOUNG MAN: Of course I am, sweetheart. It’s tradition.
Elevator stops. MIDDLE AGED WOMAN and MIDDLE AGED MAN step into the elevator; 40s/50s, nicely dressed. Husband carries a bottle of wine. Young couple moves to the side. MIDDLE AGED MAN pushes button.
MIDDLE AGED WOMAN: Why do we have to bring wine to a dinner party?
MIDDLE AGED MAN: You have to bring wine. It’s tradition.
Elevator stops. OLD MAN and OLD WOMAN step into elevator; 60s/70s. They stand at opposite sides with the other two couples in between. OLD WOMAN pushes button.
OLD WOMAN: I can’t believe they didn’t have oatmeal on the menu.
OLD MAN: Who eats oatmeal at a Chinese restaurant?
Elevator stops.
YOUNG MAN: Well, here we are, love muffin. Home sweet home. (Young couple exits).
OLD WOMAN: And I didn’t like what my fortune cookie said. “Live long and prosper.” What in the world does that mean? Is that a crack about my age?
OLD MAN: It’s from “Star Trek.” Sign of the Vulcan.
Elevator stops.
MIDDLE AGED WOMAN: Eighteen dollars for a bottle of wine! Unbelievable! (Middle aged couple exits. OLD MAN and OLD WOMAN are alone. Long period of silence.)
OLD WOMAN: What’s the point of the fortune cookie anyway? Tradition?
OLD MAN: No, I don’t think so. It just means the meal is over.
THE END
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For Every Flea There is a Reason
by Mary Alice Mark
copyright 2007 Mary Alice Mark
Cast of characters:
4 FLEAS: Actors costumed somewhat like fleas.
JAMIE: A mid-career scientist
DR. GRAIN: Project director
Jamie’s life work has been to teach fleas to sing, This is the first public demonstration.
Time: The Present.
Scene: A stage. A table center is very well light and surrounded by gizmos and gadgets.
At Rise: The introductory speeches have taken place. Dr. Grain is encouraging the on stage audience to be seated. JAMIE attends last minute details, talking,, placing and replacing objects.
JAMIE: I’ve just always wanted to enable interspecies communication-. We have enhanced the sound with speakers and the images you will see are enlarged reflections. The actual fleas are here, in their habitat, the top and back are magnifiers. Their sensitivity to sound is in a different frequency than ours. My remaining challenge is precision with vocabulary.
DR. GRAIN: Are we ready?
JAMIE: Yes, sir.
DR. GRAIN: Ladies and gentlemen, the four fleas!
4 FLEAS: (Singing as they enter, very nervous.) Amazon grapes so sweet and round so raves a kvetch like me!/I once was toast but now I’m flounder, / wouldn’t you agree?
POTENTIAL BACKERS: That’s an outrage! A sacrilege! (Exit POTENTIAL INVESTORS.)
MEDIA REPS: Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Scientist teaches fleas to vilify religion! (Exit MEDIA REPS.)
DR. GRAIN: Pack up your office and move out, Jamie. (Exit Dr. GRAIN.)
JAMIE: Oh, man!
4 FLEAS: (In perfect four part harmony.) Amen! Amen! A A A A men!
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THE GIFT OF FRIENDSHIP
a short play by Sam Stone
Time: Present. Set: Minimal. Characters: Betty and Joy. Prop: Ring case.
(On open, Joy hands Betty a ring case. Betty looks inside and is surprised.)
BETTY: Where'd you get this?
JOY: From the dumpster. I saw you throw it away.
BETTY: Why?
JOY: Because I knew you'd want it again some day.
BETTY: How did you…
JOY: What? How did I know you'd want it again? That's how you are! You make instant decisions and after a while you're sorry.
BETTY: No! How did you get it out of the dumpster? That thing was really full.
JOY: It sure was! Smelly too! I should give you the laundry bill. You know, it was only half full when you threw it in and I had to wait until after work to search for it. There was a lot more in it by then. George was there the whole time. You don't deserve him.
BETTY: Why did you…?
JOY: Then, I had to convince the trash guy to come back later. I even had to promise him we'd put all the trash back in the dumpster before he returned.
BETTY: He must have been in a good mood. Normally, those guys don't wait for anything.
JOY: We already had a big pile of trash on the street and he didn't want to pick it all up. He said he'd come back in a couple of hours and we'd better be done by then. He even gave us a huge shovel to scoop it all back in. I'm just glad it wasn't raining or you'd be…
BETTY: So…? Did you get done in time?
JOY: Just! When he got back, we had three or four more shovelfuls to finish. The guy took a broom off the side of the truck and we teamed up. When we were done, you'd never know we'd been there. George offered to buy him a case of beer for his trouble and the guy turned him down. Then he said the most interesting thing.
BETTY: What?
JOY: He said, "I hope your friend is worth it." I assured him you were.
BETTY: Are you sure about that?
JOY: The jury's still out. Let's see what you do with this thing.
END
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NOT QUITE READY TO SAY GOODNIGHT
by Randall David Cook
CAST: Dramaturge, Thelma, Jessie
DRAMATURG: As a professional dramaturge, I’m asked rather frequently what it exactly is I do. Rather than explain, I’d like to give you an example. Show rather than tell. Herewith is the very first draft of Marsha Norman’s “’Night, Mother,” a two-hander that explored, through a difficult mother-daughter relationship, the right to end one’s life. It eventually became a monumental success, but Marsha certainly would not have won the Pulitzer Prize had I not intervened. Fortunately, she was open to my suggestions and developed her script beyond the following:
Shirley, Yes, as a matter of fact, I will be submitting my play to Specific Gravity. I've got some ideas for others as well.
I misread Edd's requirements for this contest. I thought it had to be one page only. I went back and saw that the plays could be up to two pages...I was having a heck of a time cramming everything into one page...yoiks!
You did read it correctly. I changed it yesterday because I felt that one page was too restricting.
Good luck with Specific Gravity. You should do very well. I would not be surprised if both you and Shirley were accepted. Great writing! Now get to work on this month's entry. :=)
just had time to get back to this. Congrats, Shirley, Luana, and all--fun pieces, everyone, and terrific to read through. A good tweaking, Edd--keeps the juices flowing!
Cheers--
Alan
too busy baking and teaching to write anything at the moment--but you can see the results of the baking at http://alan-ohio-bread.blogspot.com
Last edited on Tue Oct 23rd, 2007 06:00 pm by alan0198
Thanks, Alan. By the way, I loved THE DANISH. Sounds like a typical conversation at my breakfast table but a lot funnier and more interesting.
Your bread looks wonderful!
I've been busy too, haven't kept up with what's going on here or anywhere lately. I'm on page 79 of a two-act play, hoping to finish before the holidays. After that I should be able to participate more and also (I hope) enter another of Edd's contests.
Thanks, Edd, for sending COMPANY, one of my favorite musicals.
