FaceCookie

So here's my second one-minute play for the upcoming festival. I solicited for ideas on Facebook, and received a bewildering and inspiring collection that could probably keep me going for the next decade. In the end, this is what I came up with. I dedicate it to the entirety of my Facebook tribe.

FaceCookie

                                    (Two men, two women, all at their

                                    computers. It's Sunday afternoon on

                                    Facebook.)

                                  NED

         Hey guys and gals! Just ate a delicious cookie.

         Smiley face.

                                  SUSAN

         What kind?

                                  NED

         Chocolate chip.

                                  MARY

         Gluten free?

                                  NED

         No.

                                  SUSAN

         Yum.

                                  MARY

         Can I just say? I find the term "gal" offensive.

                                  NED

         Oh. Sorry.

                                  STAN

         Organic free trade chocolate?

                                  NED

         I don't know...

                                  STAN

         Slave chocolate?

                                  NED

         Wait, what?

                                  SUSAN

         I don't mind being called a gal. Smiley face

                                  STAN

         Do you know how much blood goes into your chocolate?

                                  NED

         None, I hope.

                                  MARY

         Thanks for betraying your own gender, "sister."

                                  SUSAN

         What?

  

                                  STAN

         Laugh all you want, but people are dying.

                                  NED

         From chocolate?

                                  SUSAN

         He was just saying what sort of cookie he likes.

                                  MARY

         I don't need to be "mansplained" about cookies. If

         I don't want to eat gluten that is my choice. It's

         "gals" like you that make things harder for all of

         us.

                                  SUSAN

         How?

                                  STAN

         I am not going to waste time on bombastic Republican

         fascists like you.

                                  MARY

         For once in your life think about reading a book,

         Barbie.

                                  STAN AND MARY

         Unfriend.

                                    (Beat. Then to Ned:)

                                  SUSAN

         I like cookies. Smiley face.

END OF PLAY

The Statistician: A One Minute Play

The Statistician

I've been asked to write a one-minute play for an upcoming short play contest. The topic was pretty general--whatever happened to be on my mind and in the air at the time I was writing. It didn't come til the last minute, but here it is. I have to say that I'm pretty proud of it because it does exactly what I want it to do.

(Three people: a boy, a housewife, and a soldier, sit on three chairs, with a fourth one empty. A person with a clipboard stands in front of them.)

            THE STATISTICIAN         
          (indicating the empty seat)
    Sorry about that. Unpleasant. Now. Who's next?

            THE BOY    
    I think I am.

            THE STATISTICIAN     
    All right. And where are you?

            THE BOY     
    At school. Fifth period algebra.

(The Statistician makes a note)

            THE STATISTICIAN
         (friendly but clinical)
    And how's that?

            THE BOY
     Boring. I'm daydreaming.

(He nods and turns to:)

            THE STATISTICIAN
     And you?

            HOUSEWIFE
     At the mall with a friend. It's a spa day and we're starting with
     our nails.

            THE STATISTICIAN
     Your children?

            HOUSEWIFE
     Neighbor's got them for the day, thank god. About ready to kill
     Jenny. She just won't stop picking on....

            THE STATISTICIAN
     Yes, yes. I see. It's not really relevant.

            HOUSEWIFE
     No?

            THE STATISTICIAN
     They're not with you. That's the important part.

            HOUSEWIFE
     Oh.

            THE STATISTICIAN
         (turning to the soldier)
    And you?

            THE SOLDIER
     Just leaving my shift at the base. Nothing up.

            THE STATISTICIAN
     Nothing?

            THE SOLDIER
         (thinks)
    Nope. Not so much as a kid with firecrackers.

(The statistician makes another note.)

            THE BOY
     Excuse me?

            THE STATISTICIAN
     Yes?

            THE BOY
     What's the point of this?

            THE STATISTICIAN
     It's our sacred duty.

            HOUSEWIFE
     Sacred? How could it be....

            THE STATISTICIAN
     It's in the Constitution.

            THE SOLDIER
     That's sacred.

            THE STATISTICIAN
     I'm glad you agree. Because I'm afraid...
        (he checks the list again)
    It's your turn.
        (The statistician pulls a gun out from his or her coat and points it at the soldier. All three look on in weary horror.)
    Close your eyes. It'll be over in a moment. And God bless America.

(Lights out)