SEMBLABLE

 

 

 

A quasi-Absurdist pseudo-tragicomedy

 

in three acts

 

 

by Eric Salonis

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © Eric Salonis 1997, 2000, 2003, 2005, 2006


SEMBLABLE

 

A quasi-Absurdist pseudo-tragicomedy in three acts...

 

 

CHARACTERS

 

NICHOLE                    Our narrator, of sorts; French teacher and devout follower of Theatre of the Absurd; also Miss Blable’s landlady; is she English? Is she Southern? Is she real? Mid 40s to mid 60s

 

MISS BLABLE                An Absurdist theatre character; a woman with the consistency of a kaleidoscope; the play is about her, but she hates it; can be nice; can be dangerous; 30s to 40s

 

SHANNON SMITH              Representative from Salvation Army; friendly and devoted to her cause, but does not like to be pushed around; late 20s to early 30s

 

HEATHER GOODLIN            Miss Blable’s new neighbor; bright and chatty; mid 30s to early 40s

 

JILL HOOVER                A soon-to-be college freshman who is lost and needs directions to the university; easily disturbed; 18 years old

 

ERIC DAVIS                 Junior in college; doing a survey for his psychology course; sarcastic and cynical; 20 years old

 

DAN PETERSON               Door-to-door salesman; rather insecure; 20s to early 30s

 

THE WRITER                 The writer of the play, which Miss Blable hates


SCENES

 

ACT I                      Late August, early afternoon; Miss Blable’s living room located somewhere in suburbia; later, located in some place called Frangypt

 

ACT II                     The same, a half hour later;

 

ACT III                    The same, an intdeterminate amount of time later; later, located within Nichole’s “own conclusions,” a Plot-Character Continuum glitch created by The Writer’s revisions.


PROLOGUE

 

NICHOLE, a middle-aged, scholarly-looking woman, stands in front of a portable chalkboard.  On the chalkboard are several words written in both French and English.

 

NICHOLE is writing words on the chalkboard and teaching us French.  SHE speaks with a refined British accent.

 

 

                                NICHOLE

I.  Je.  The subjective.  Me.  Moi.  The objective.  Etre.  To be.  Conjugated in the first person singular as suis.  Je suis.  “I am.”  Je suis moi-même.  “I am myself.”  But...Je ne suis pas moi-même, aujourd’hui.  “I am not myself today.”

                           (Points to a verb)

Acheter.  To buy.  Infinitive.  Je voudrais acheter un chapeau.  “I would like to buy a hat.”  Je voudrais acheter du fromage.  “I would like to buy some cheese.”  Je voudrais acheter un chapeau de fromage et touts les chapeaus semblables!  “I would like to buy a cheese hat and all similar hats!”

(Admonishing)

Pay attention, please.

(Writes more words)

Verbs.  Les verbes.  Ending in E-R.  Acheter, jouer, ecriver, et les verbes semblables.

 

(As NICHOLE goes on, MISS BLABLE enters, carrying an ornate hand-mirror.  SHE stares at NICHOLE, menacingly)

 

                                NICHOLE (continued)

Now, such verbs as those that end in E-R are conjugated...

(Notices MISS BLABLE)

Et comment je peux vous aider, mon amie?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I have a question.

 

                                NICHOLE

And I have an answer.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Are you certain of that?

 

                                NICHOLE

What is your question?

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What does that word mean?

(Points)

 

     NICHOLE

Ah!  Semblable means “similar”.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Semblable...?

 

                                NICHOLE

Oui!  Similar!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I see.  Hm.

 

                                NICHOLE

Yes.  Now, please do take your seat, and we shall—

 

(MISS BLABLE abruptly grabs an eraser and begins vehemently erasing all the words on the chalkboard, as if they were somehow offensive to her – the only word that remains is “semblable”)

 

                                NICHOLE (continued)

What is this?  What are you...?  Stop that, at once!  Return to your seat!  I said, return to your seat, Miss Whoever-You-Are.  What are you doing?  This is my classroom, and I will not have this sort of nonsense—

 

(MISS BLABLE wheels around towards NICHOLE and thrusts the hand-mirror up before NICHOLE’S face.  SHE shouts, in a booming voice)

 

     MISS BLABLE

SEM-BLA-BLE!

 

(Her voice reverberates.  The LIGHTS intensify, and a deep sound, like a meteor crashing, is heard.  NICHOLE stares into the mirror for a moment, transfixed in a sort of inexplicable horror; SHE begins screaming, madly;

 

NICHOLE grabs a piece of chalk and slashes fiercely at the word “semblable” on the chalkboard.  Her screams become mixed with vaguely intelligible shrieks of the word “Similar!” as SHE runs about the stage, madly.  SHE exits, still screaming.

 

MISS BLABLE watches her go and then calmly wheels the chalkboard off stage; SHE steps forward and addresses the audience)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Hi.  How’s everyone doing, tonight?  Good?  That’s good.  I see you all turned up here, to watch this play, which is about me.  I’m Miss Blable, and this is my story.  Come!  Come with me, and discover the secrets that...

(Her tone changes completely; SHE seems disheartened and annoyed)

Okay, you know what?  Screw this.  I’m going to forewarn you, right now: this play is the biggest pile of shit I’ve ever seen.  I was mortified when I read the script – which is kind of weird in the first place, since it’s about me, and I’m a fictional character.  But really, nothing in this makes any sense.  So honestly, I would get out of your seats and just go home right now.  No!  No, I shouldn’t say that.  Actually, I do want you to stay and see my story.  Really, I do, it’s just...I’m not satisfied with the way my story is written.  But there’s nothing I can do about it.  I’m just along for the ride, a helpless victim of fiction.  But then, who knows?  Maybe you’ll like it.  Maybe you’ll learn something new, maybe you’ll laugh, maybe you’ll have fun...or maybe you’ll see the truth and realize it’s absolute garbage.

(Looks offstage, where NICHOLE exited)

Wait a second...she was speaking in the British accent, wasn’t she?  That doesn’t make sense.  I know you have no idea what I’m talking about yet, but trust me, it’s inconsistent.  Oh well.  My life is pretty damn weird.  Okay.  Deep breath...I’m just going to let this happen because I don’t really care one way or the other.  This is my life, not yours.  All right, then!  Love and kisses!  Oh, and I believe we’re going to start off the show with some sort of bizarre, artsy-fartsy, stylized introduction or something.

 

(Several people enter behind her, forming a line: SHANNON SMITH, HEATHER GOODLIN, JILL HOOVER, ERIC DAVIS and DAN PETERSON; they stand in various, stylized poses, as LIGHTS pool on them in different colors; we hear New Age music, underneath)

 

                                MISS BLABLE (continued)

What did I tell you?  God, I’m going to need a drink when this is all over.  Okay, let’s start this mother!

 

(MISS BLABLE walks over to a wall and flips a large switch that brings the LIGHTS up full, on the other characters; SHE exits;

 

LIGHTS and SOUND do various, “surreal” things as the characters before us cryptically present themselves)

 

     SHANNON

The Good Samaritan...

 

                                HEATHER

The next-door soccer mom...

 

                                JILL

The innocent freshman...

 

                                ERIC

The cynical junior...

 

                                DAN

The door-to-door salesman...

 

                                ALL FIVE

All similar!  All semblable!

 

(The effect is shattered as NICHOLE runs in again, still screaming madly)

 

     NICHOLE

MY SEMBLABLE IS MY MIRROR!!!

 

(ALL begin to panic and freak out, shouting and running about the stage in an imitation of NICHOLE; LIGHTS and SOUND go crazy;

 

One by one, they all exit and the LIGHTS and SOUND fade, like a nightmare disappearing)


ACT I

 

The living room of MISS BLABLE’S home...It is bright and cheery.  There is a sofa, coffee table, and a tea table with elegant chairs surrounding it.

 

MISS BLABLE enters from the kitchen.  SHE is dressed nicely and walks gracefully.  SHE daintily sets tea and cake on the table.  SHE opens the curtains, letting the beautiful sunshine pour in.  SHE exits again, back to the kitchen.

 

After a moment, a chair comes flying on stage, thrown by MISS BLABLE from the kitchen.  It lands with a clatter.

 

SHE enters again, looking prim and well-mannered as ever.  SHE sets the chair upright near the small table.  SHE exits again.

 

SHE returns carrying a tall potted plant, which she sets next to her couch.  SHE adjusts it for a moment before speaking.

 

                               

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, lovely.  So much cheerier!  Decorating always raises my spirits.  And heaven knows I need spirit-raising, with this horrific weather and this disgusting tea and cake and these idiotic chairs.  I think, perhaps, I’ll buy some more, to hang from the ceiling...the ceiling...the non-existent ceiling.

 

(Upon saying the words, “the ceiling...the ceiling...the non-existent ceiling,” the LIGHTS flicker and change, on cue with the rhythm of her speech; SHE takes no notice of this)

 

All right, then!

 

(SHE scoops a bit of soil from the plant’s pot and walks over to the table with it; SHE sprinkles the soil into her tea; SHE kicks the chair over on its side, then takes both the tea and cake over near the couch and sits on the floor with it;

SHE says a prayer)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for all that you provide.  Thank you for this food you have given me.  Bless it to my body.  Keep me safe and in good health, Lord.  And please, Lord...that evil witch next door who left this beautiful plant outside to die...see that she gets her head ripped off by that gorilla that escaped from the zoo.  If it be your will, let it happen next Tuesday, which is my birthday.  But all your time, Lord.  All in your time!  Amen.

 

(SHE finishes praying and takes a bite out of her cake and then takes a bite out of one of the leaves of the plant;

 

There is a KNOCK at the door)

 

Oh, it never fails!  Just a minute!

 

(SHE spits out the leaf and hides it under her cake, which she places back on the table; SHE picks up the chair that she kicked over and straightens herself up; another KNOCK)

 

I’ll be right there.  I’m coming to the door...the door...the existential door.

 

(LIGHTS flicker, as before, on cue with “...the door...the door...the existential door...”

 

MISS BLABLE opens the front door; outside it stands SHANNON SMITH, a representative of Salvation Army)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Yes?  Can I help you?

 

                                SHANNON

Hello, are you—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Can I help anybody?

 

                                SHANNON

Are you Miss Blay-bull?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Blah-bluh.  Yes, that’s me.

 

 

                                SHANNON

Oh, excuse me.  I’m Shannon Smith, with Salvation Army.  We spoke on the phone yesterday.  I understand you have some unique and rare items you’d be interested in donating, and perhaps a monetary contribution?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh yes, that’s right!  I’d nearly forgotten.  Yes, I have some very nice things I’d like to give away.

 

                                SHANNON

Wonderful!  May I come in?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I’m afraid not.

 

                                SHANNON

Oh.  Is this a bad time?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Would you like to come in, dear?  I’m sure you must be exhausted, walking all this way.  Please come in – have a seat.

 

                                SHANNON

Oh, thank you.  Actually, I drove.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Good.  There’s nothing worse than a pedestrian who can’t pronounce last names.  Are you sitting?

 

                                SHANNON

Oh, thank you, yes.

(Sits on couch)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Oh, my house is a mess.  Everything is a mess.  Just look at this mess!  Please excuse the mess.

 

                                SHANNON

Oh, don’t worry.  It’s fine.  It looks very nice.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

No, no!  Just let me tidy up a bit here.  I will be right back.  You just sit right there.  Don’t move.  Stay.

 

(MISS BLABLE exits, taking her tea and cake with her into the kitchen)

 

     SHANNON

You don’t have to clean up on my account.

 

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Off)

I’ll be right with you.  Just sit tight.

 

(SHANNON sits patiently for a few moments; there is a KNOCK at the door)

 

     SHANNON

Oh, Miss Blable!  Miss Blable, there’s someone knocking at your door.  Would you like me to get that for you?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Off)

Oh, if that stupid door is squeaking again, just oil it.

 

                                SHANNON

No, no – a knock!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Off)

No, no – oil it!

 

(SHANNON decides to answer the door; Enter HEATHER GOODLIN, a bright and chatty woman)

 

     HEATHER

Hi, there!  Just wanted to drop by and introduce myself.  I’m Heather Goodlin, your new next-door neighbor.  And you must be Miss Blay-Bull.

 

                                SHANNON

It’s Blah-bluh.

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, sorry!  The people next door told me it way Blay-bull.  Well, the people on the other side, the other next door – not this next door, of course.  It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Blah-bluh.

 

                                SHANNON

I’m sorry, no.

 

                                HEATHER

(Ignoring her)

Oh, you have such a lovely lawn!  May I come in?

 

                                SHANNON

I’m sorry.  I’m not her.

 

                                HEATHER

Pardon?

 

                                SHANNON

Miss Blable...

                                HEATHER

I thought I said Blah-bluh.

 

                                SHANNON

No, it’s not that.

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, it is Blay-bull, then?

 

                                SHANNON

No, I’m mean I’m not.

 

                                HEATHER

(Confused)

You’re not pronouncing it Blay-bull?

 

                                SHANNON

No, I’m not Miss Blable.

 

                                HEATHER

I don’t understand.

 

                                SHANNON

I’m not the one you’re looking for.

 

                                HEATHER

Is this the wrong house?

 

                                SHANNON

No, it’s the right house.

 

                                HEATHER

Then why aren’t you Miss Blable?

 

                                SHANNON

This is her house.  I don’t live here.  I’m visiting.  I just answered the door; she’s in the kitchen right now.  I’m with Salvation Army.  Shannon Smith.  If you’d like to come in, though, I’m sure she’ll be back here any minute.

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, I see!  Sorry about the confusion.  Well, is she busy?  She won’t mind?

 

                                SHANNON

This should only take a few minutes, really.  I’m sure it’s all right.

 

(HEATHER comes in; they both sit down on the couch)

 

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Off)

Did you oil it?

 

                                SHANNON

I answered your door, Miss Blable.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Off)

It doesn’t talk, dear.

 

                                SHANNON

You have a guest.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Off)

Just don’t touch anything; I’ll oil it myself, for God’s sake.

 

                                HEATHER

You’re sure this is a good time?

 

                                SHANNON

Yes, I’m sure it’s fine.  That was just some miscommunication.

 

(MISS BLABLE enters, carrying an oil can; SHE stops at the sight of HEATHER, confused)

 

     MISS BLABLE

There are two of you, now?

 

                                SHANNON

You have a guest.  Sorry, I tried telling you – There’s no need to oil the door.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Of course there isn’t.  Why would I oil the door?

(Oils the plant)

 

     HEATHER

Miss Blah-bluh?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

No.  It’s pronounced Blay-bull, Missy.

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, I’m terribly sorry.

 

                                SHANNON

I thought you said it was Blah-bluh.

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I say a lot of things.

(To HEATHER)

And you are?

 

                                HEATHER

I’m Heather Goodlin, your new neighbor!  I just moved in next door.

 

(MISS BLABLE’S attitude towards HEATHER instantly turns cold)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Oh, how nice.  Yes, I’ve seen you.  I suppose I’ll shake your hand.

 

(THEY shake hands)

 

Sit.  What brings you here, Heathblerble?

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, you know, just came to introduce myself...say hi...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

You think I believe that?

(To SHANNON, suspicious)

What was your name again?

 

                                SHANNON

Shannon.  Shannon Smith.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Right, right...Shannblable...Heathblerble...Got it.  She’s next door, and you were with Salvation Blable, yes?

 

                                SHANNON

(Thrown for a moment)

I’m sorry, what?  Er – yes, that’s right.  Salvation Army.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Good.  I’m glad we cleared that up.  Now, go away.

 

                                HEATHER

Excuse me?

 

                                SHANNON

What?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Go away!  Shoo, shoo!

 

                                SHANNON

But what about the donations you spoke of?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What donations?  Donations...The Freudian donations...

 

(LIGHTS flicker as SHE says this; SHANNON and HEATHER are a bit startled by this)

 

     SHANNON

I thought you had donations you wanted to give to Salvation Army.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Cheerful)

Oh!  Oh, silly me.  I’d forgotten.  Yes, of course.  I’ll be right back.

 

                                HEATHER

Um, Miss Blay-bull, is it all right if I wait here—?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Annoyed)

It’s Blah-bluh.

 

                                HEATHER

But I thought—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I’ll be right back.

(Exits)

 

     HEATHER

So, is it Blah-bluh or Blay-bull?  I’m confused.

 

                                SHANNON

I have no idea.  She seems to talk in circles.  Well, I just hope this doesn’t take too long.

 

                                HEATHER

Don’t tell her I said this, but she seems a little...scatterbrained.  Like there’s too much going on, all at once, you know.  Well...my, look at this room!  This is so bare.  I could never live in such a room.

 

                                SHANNON

It could use a few more decorations – like this plant.

 

                                HEATHER

Yes.  Oh, you know, I had a plant like this, but somehow it got lost in the move.  Hm, this one looks...a lot like my plant.

(Stares at the plant for a moment)

Oh, that’s silly.  How could she have my plant?  Hahaha!  Oh my...

 

                                SHANNON

What?

                                HEATHER

It looks like someone bit part off part of this leaf.

 

                                SHANNON

Does she have a dog?

 

(MISS BLABLE enters, still with no donations)

 

     MISS BLABLE

I’d appreciate you not snooping about my things, Heathblerble.

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, I was just admiring your plant.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Vaguely menacing)

Yes, isn’t it nice?

 

                                HEATHER

Where did you buy it?  It’s lovely.  I used to have one just like it.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, what a coincidence!  It’s yours, actually.  I found it, just sitting out there, yesterday, in your car.

 

                                HEATHER

(Uncomfortable pause)

Oh!  You’re joking.  You got me there, that’s a good one!  Haha, you had me going for a second.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

How dare you leave a poor defenseless plant alone to die, like that!

 

                                SHANNON

(Changing subjects)

Miss Blable, I thought you said you were going to get the donations.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

For what?

 

                                SHANNON

For Salvation Army!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Of course, for Salvation Army!  I know that!

 

                                SHANNON

Then, where are they?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What are you talking about?

                                HEATHER

Well, go ahead – keep the plant!  We’re neighbors.  We’ll share things, right?  By the way, I’m so sorry, but I’m still confused – this is so embarrassing – Is it Blah-bluh or Blay-bull?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, what do you think?

 

                                HEATHER

Well, I don’t know.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, that’s something we’ll have to remedy, isn’t it?

 

                                HEATHER

Couldn’t you maybe just tell me right now?

 

(Over MISS BLABLE’S next speech, the LIGHTS and SOUND do increasingly odd things, disturbing SHANNON and HEATHER)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Of course I couldn’t!  Where’s the fun in that?  Where’s the fun in Cairo?  Where’s the Cairo of Tevye?  The Tevye.  The polygonic Tevye.  Of death and such!  Helping sentence fragments!  Therefore: What’s in a name?

 

(The scene suddenly freezes...

 

NICHOLE enters and speaks to the audience, no longer hysterical and horrified, but once again, the scholarly tutor – though a bit more enthusiastic than before)

 

     NICHOLE

Name.  Le nom.  To name or to call.  Appeler.  My name is Nichole.  Je m’appelle Nichole.  What is your name?  Comment vous appelez-vous?

 

(With a gesture from NICHOLE, MISS BLABLE unfreezes from her position in the scene and walks downstage next to her)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Semblable!

 

                                NICHOLE

Similar.  Les noms semblables.  Similar names...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Heathblerble...Shannblable...

 

 

                                NICHOLE

Heather...Shannon...semblable...Maintenant, votre noms sont plus semblables.  Now, your names are more similar.  Tu t’appelle Semblable.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

No, je m’appelle Miss Blable.  Miss!

 

                                NICHOLE

It has begun, and soon they shan’t even notice the difference.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Who won’t notice what, now?

 

                                NICHOLE

Les Noms-Nouveaus!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Confused)

Is this symbolism?

 

                                NICHOLE

All names are similar when the meaning is discovered and uncovered.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Looking around)

Why is everyone frozen in place?

 

                                NICHOLE

Chapter One: Names.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I won’t let you change my name!

 

(NICHOLE snaps her fingers and exits – the scene resumes)

 

     SHANNON

Uh, Miss Blay-bull...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Je m’appelle Mademoiselle Blah-bluh!

 

                                SHANNON

Yes, whatever, fine.  The donations...?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I said I have donations!

 

(A KNOCK at the door)

 

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

I don’t want to answer the door.

 

(SHE knocks over the table in frustration;

 

SHE answers the door; enter JILL, a girl of about 18 years of age)

 

     JILL

Hello.  I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but I’m—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

You aren’t bothering me.  Don’t say that.

(To HEATHER and SHANNON, angry)

You see that?  See what you did?

(To JILL)

You are not bothering me, dear.  Don’t listen to what they say.  You come right in.  Have a seat.

(Ushers JILL inside)

Please.  Sit right down.

 

                                JILL

Oh no, I just—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

You sit right down.

 

                                JILL

There’s someone sitting there.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Shannblable, move!!

 

(SHANNON scoots)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Now, you see?  You can sit down.  You aren’t bothering us at all.  What’s your name?

 

                                JILL

Hi.  My name is Jill.  You don’t know me, but I—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

                           (To the others)

This is Jillblable.

 

                                JILL

I’m lost, kind of.  I need to get to Vine Street.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Yes, of course, after you sit down.

 

                                JILL

But I’m in a bit of a hurry, you see—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I said sit down, bitch!!

 

(JILL sits down, taken aback)

 

     MISS BLABLE

That’s better.  Now, Jillblable...

 

                                JILL

No, Jill Hoover, and I really don’t think that was called for—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Jillblable Hoover!  What an awful name.  You poor thing!

 

                                JILL

Excuse me?

 

                                SHANNON

(Mutters)

Pay no attention.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

May I introduce Shannblable and Heathblerble?

 

                                SHANNON

Shannon Smith of Salvation Army.

 

                                HEATHER

Heather Goodlin.  I live next door.

 

                                JILL

Hello.

 

                                SHANNON

Hello.

 

                                HEATHER

Hi!

 

(Awkward pause)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Well, aren’t you going to tell us what’s wrong?

 

                                JILL

Well, you see, I can’t seem to find Vine Street.  Do you know the best way—?

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh my goodness!  You’re lost?

 

                                JILL

No, not “lost” lost – I just need to know the best way—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

You poor dear!  I’ll telephone an ambulance right away.

 

                                JILL

Oh no, I don’t need anything like that.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Nonsense!  I’ll go call right this minute.

 

                                JILL

I don’t need an ambulance.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Fine, you ungrateful slut!  Be that way!

(Pleasant as pie)

Would anyone like some tea and cake?

 

                                HEATHER

I would love some.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, I don’t have any.  All I have is this cracker.

(Pulls a cracker out of her pocket and sticks it in HEATHER’S face)

Is that good enough for you, Miss I-Abandon-Poor-Innocent-Plant-life?

 

                                HEATHER

I’m fine.  I think I’ll pass.

 

(MISS BLABLE slaps HEATHER across the face; HEATHER gasps in shock; MISS BLABLE then offers the cracker to JILL)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Here, Jill.  I’m sure you’re not too high and mighty for my cracker.  My cracker...My effervescent cracker...

 

(LIGHTS flicker, as before; JILL is frightened)

 

     JILL

Uhuh...uh...um...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well?

 

(JILL takes the cracker and sets it on the coffee table in front of her)

 

     JILL

Yes, thank you.  But I’ll save it for later.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(A bit surprised)

Oh.  All right.

 

(A long, uncomfortable pause as MISS BLABLE impatiently waits for “later”)

 

     SHANNON

Miss Blable, could you please get those donations, now?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Incredulous)

No!

 

                                SHANNON

Look, I’m running late.  I do have other appointments.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Why?

 

                                SHANNON

For donations...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Who are you, again?

 

                                SHANNON

                           (Snapping)

Forget it!  You are wasting my time.  I am going.  You know, this isn’t funny.  Playing jokes like this, wasting my time!  You think it’s a joke?  Those poor families and ones in need that we work so hard to help...!  That’s a joke, to you?  Well, you, lady, are sick.  You should be ashamed of yourself.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Contrite)

I’m sorry.  You’re right.  I should be ashamed of myself.

(Bitter and nasty)

But I’m not because I do have donations!  And just to prove you wrong and insult you the way you’ve insulted me, I’m going to go get them right this instant!  So there!

 

                                SHANNON

Well, you’d better be serious this time.  I’ve had enough.

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, I’m serious, all right!

 

                                HEATHER

Please, let’s not argue—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Referring to HEATHER)

I’m as serious as she is boorish and retarded.  You wait here and see.

(Exits)

 

     HEATHER

Well!  I never!

 

                                JILL

What’s going on?  All I wanted was some directions.  What’s wrong with that?

 

                                SHANNON

I hate this kind of crap.  I just want to get the donations and go.

 

                                JILL

Maybe I should ask someone else.

 

                                HEATHER

You two are lucky.  I’m going to have to live next to her, so I have to stay here and get acquainted and try to put things back on the right foot.  I just hate neighborhood politics.  I’m in such a foul mood after such an exhausting move, and the kids just screaming like a couple of turd-covered piglets...And then, of course, there’s Charlie, and his old baseball trophies all over the dam SUV!  I mean, really!

 

                                SHANNON

Okay...

 

(MISS BLABLE enters, triumphantly.  SHE is carrying the following: a large stick, some oily rags, and a plastic bag filled with shards of broken glass)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Ha!  I told you!

 

                                SHANNON

You have them?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Right here, Shannblable.

 

 

 

 

                                SHANNON

Let me apologize for what I said, Miss Blable.  I am so very sorry.  Thank you so much for your...

 

(SHANNON trails off as she begins to see and realize what the “donations” are)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Apology accepted.  I would have gotten them eventually, no fuss.  It’s just that I have company, and I wanted to be a good hostess.  You know how it is.  Can’t please everyone.  Get donations.  Plants from neighbor.  Sentence fragments again wanting.  All right, let’s see...There’s this.

 

(SHE hands the large stick to SHANNON)

 

     SHANNON

What’s this?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Condescending)

It’s called a stick, dear.

 

                                SHANNON

Well, I realize that, but what is it for?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, it’s just an old stick I found in the backyard.  There’s actually a rather fascinating story behind it.  It was a crisp autumn evening – the kind you only ever hear about in floating bits of conversation at the Taco Hut – the sky was green and the grass was blue, and I was suffering from the anguish of existential ennui.  That’s when I heard a rapping at the door – the kind you make when you’re stalking your high-school Geometry teacher.  So, naturally, I threw a brick at the window.  But at the very moment the brick touched the pane, the whole window just shattered.  So, I ran outside to see what young hooligan had the nerve to break my window.  And that’s when I saw it: the stick.  O stick!  My stick!  Brown, wooden and rough!  And God saw it was good, and He blessed it, and GET OUT!!!!!

 

(MISS BLABLE points at the door, glaring at SHANNON;

 

SHANNON just stares at her; it’s difficult to register just what is going through SHANNON’S mind at the moment)

 

     JILL

You want us to leave?

 

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What?  Leave?  You just got here.  Anyway, you can keep the stick, Shannblable.  I’m sure someone out there would love it.  All right.  And there’s these...

(Hands over the oily rags)

I’m going to miss these old rags.  They bring back so many fond memories.  I’m getting all misty-eyed just thinking about it.  So many memories: under the sink...under the car...under Raoul...oh...

(Offers a rag to JILL)

Would you like one, Jillblable?

 

                                JILL

I’ll take a raincheck.

 

(MISS BLABLE looks upwards – either for rain or for something else – it’s unclear; SHE then picks up the cracker from the coffee table and sticks it near JILL’S face)

 

     MISS BLABLE

It’s later, now.

 

                                JILL

Oh...I...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I thought you said you’d eat it.

 

                                JILL

Look, could you please just tell me where Vine Street is?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, but you have to eat, dear.  You’ve been outside, wandering around lost, for so long.  You must eat something.  But I won’t force you, my sweet.  You eat whenever you feel you have the strength.  Then, before you know, it you’ll be back on your feet, screwing anything and everything that has a penis, just like the ungrateful slut you are.

(SHE then presents the bag of broken glass to SHANNON, with pride)

And this is my final donation.  Treat it well.  And no need to thank me; there’s plenty more where that came from.

 

                                SHANNON

Okay.  What the hell is this?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Don’t be silly.  Surely you’ve seen a bag of broken glass before.

 

                                SHANNON

I know what it is!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Then what was the point of your question?

 

                                SHANNON

Why are you giving it to me?!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

To stick up your ungrateful ass!!

 

(Scene freezes...

 

NICHOLE enters, dragging the DEAD BODY of a man behind her)

 

     NICHOLE

(Profound)

Death.  La mort.  He is dead.  Il est mort.

 

(SHE stares at us for a moment, profoundly, then exits, dragging the BODY with her, without another word;

 

Scene resumes)

 

     SHANNON

This is unbelievable.  Simply unbelievable!  I should have known better.  This kind of crap happens all the time, I’m so sick of it!  I really don’t know what it is, with people like you.  You’re sick and twisted, lady.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What?!  I take the trouble of digging up some of my most prized possessions – ones that some people would kill for – and you have the gall to do nothing but insult me, and act like a complete bitch?  The bitch!  The complimentary bitch!

 

(LIGHTS flicker)

 

     SHANNON

Why does that keep happening?  It’s pissing me off.

 

(There is a KNOCK at the door)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Why does that keep happening?  It’s pissing me off!

(SHE waits; another knock)

Maybe they’ll go away.

(Another knock)

Who are you?

(Another)

Tell me who you are.

(Another)

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Tell me who you are.

(Another)

Tell me who—

 

                                HEATHER

Will you answer the door?!

 

(MISS BLABLE glares at HEATHER, murderously; another KNOCK)

 

     MISS BLABLE

(Chipper)

Coming!

 

(SHE opens the door; outside stands ERIC DAVIS, a college student, about 20, dressed casually, carrying a clipboard and a pen...

 

MISS BLABLE takes one glance-over of ERIC and reacts by screaming out the following...)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Who the fucked up hell are you?!

 

                                ERIC

(Ignoring her outburst)

Hi.  I’m taking a survey—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What the fuck?!

 

                                ERIC

And if you have a moment, maybe you’d be interested in taking it.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

If I had a moment, I’d wonder: just what the hell is this shit?  Maybe you’d be interested in tearing out my heart and doing the Mexican Hat Dance around it in the street?

 

                                ERIC

Could I get your name, please?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I’m not giving you a damn thing.  It’s spelled B-L-A-B-L-E.  How do you think it’s pronounced?

 

                                ERIC

Blah-bluh?

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Changing her attitude completely)

Get your sweet ass in here!  What’s your name, dear?

 

                                ERIC

(Writing on his clipboard)

My name is Eric Davis.  I’m from—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh my!  What a lovely, lovely name – Ericble.  Oh, and just look at you, Mr. Handsome!  Why don’t you come in?

 

                                ERIC

Sure.

 

(MISS BLABLE grabs him by the shirt and yanks him inside)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Oh no, you don’t!  I don’t take no for an answer, dear.  You can’t get away from me, Cutie-pie.  Come over and sit right here.  Heathblerble, scoot over, could you?

 

                                HEATHER

Huh?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Move.

 

(MISS BLABLE violently throws HEATHER off the couch onto the floor; SHE forces ERIC to sit in her spot)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

(Flirtatious)

Now, Ericble, Ericble, Ericble...Where have you come from to pay us this lovely little visit?  Across town?  Across the ocean?  The party in my pants?

 

                                ERIC

No, I’m a student from the university.

 

                                JILL

The university – that’s where I’m trying to get to.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh my goodness!  Ericble, are you lost too?

 

                                ERIC

No.

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh my God, you are!

 

                                ERIC

No, I’m not.  Anyway, this survey deals with certain things regarding whether or not—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Weather?  What about the weather?  I like it just fine.  It’s nice and sunny.  Bitch, bitch, bitch...that’s all you kids ever do, these days.

 

                                ERIC

No, not the weather, it’s on whether or not—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Yes, they should.

 

                                ERIC

May I please finish?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Only if you’re as horny as I am!

 

                                ERIC

Uh...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Suggestively)

We’ve got fifty.

 

                                ERIC

Okay, well I’ll be going, then...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Don’t talk nonsense, dear.  You’re lost.  I’ll call an ambulance for you, as well.

 

                                ERIC

What?

 

                                JILL

Hey!  But my ambulance isn’t even here yet.

 

                                SHANNON

                           (Annoyed)

You don’t need one.

 

                                JILL

No, but she promised me one.

 

                                ERIC

What’s all this about an ambulance?

                                HEATHER

(Still on the floor)

We’ll all need one, at this rate.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Not you again...

 

                                HEATHER

                           (Upset)

Was hurtling me to the floor really necessary?  What...what kind of neighbor are you?  What kind of person are you?  I tried!  I tried being polite.  I don’t ever remember being rude to you, in the least.  I don’t understand why you’re treating me this way.  I even said that you could keep my plant, which you stole!  Have I been rude?  Have I?!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, eat shit and die.

 

                                ERIC

Miss Blable, maybe I should take my survey elsewhere.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Shh...don’t talk.  Save your strength, you poor, poor thing.  Oh, you poor widdle guy, being lost and alone, out in the freezing cold.

 

                                ERIC

It’s blazing hot outside.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, of course it is, in the middle of the desert.  The desert...The Riviera desert...

 

(LIGHTS flicker; ERIC notices them)

 

     ERIC

What the...?  This isn’t the desert.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

It is now.  Now, I’ll go get that orange juice you wanted.  Those commercials, with the talking sandwich...if I ever found something like that in my home, I don’t know what I’d do.  Eat it, probably.  Sandwiches should not be so much talkative as consumed.  Anyway, I’ll be right back.  Do you want some orange juice, too, Jillblable?

 

                                JILL

No one ever said anything about wanting some orange juice.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Two glasses, coming right up!

(Exits)

 

 

     ERIC

What the hell?  I’m just taking a survey.  It’s not like I’m selling something.  Why is everyone so hostile?  Screw this!  I’m out of here.

 

(HE stands to leave, but SHANNON and HEATHER plant him back down)

 

     SHANNON

It hasn’t been any picnic for us, either, you know.

 

                                HEATHER

You can wait it out and suffer with the rest of us.

 

                                JILL

(To SHANNON)

You can leave, can’t you?  You’ve gotten the donations.

 

                                SHANNON

Oh, no.  I am not leaving until she gives me something of value, even if I have to steal it.  She’s wasted my time, and people do not waste my time.

 

                                JILL

Okay...

(To ERIC)

So what’s this survey about?

 

                                ERIC

It’s for my psych course.  It’s to gather opinions on whether or not people diagnosed with schizophrenia should be allowed to live freely, under supervision.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Off)

Stop that!  Down, kitty!  Get off of there!  Look, kitty, don’t give me shit today, I’m sick of it!  I’m sick of you!

 

                                JILL

That sounds interesting.

 

                                HEATHER

What sort of questions does it ask?

 

                                ERIC

Oh, stuff like, “Have you ever felt threatened, in public, by a person who was schizophrenic?”

 

(MISS BLABLE suddenly enters, covered with cat fur and holding a mixer in her hand, breathing hard like SHE’S been doing some strenuous activity)

 

     MISS BLABLE

(Intense)

Do you want one or two?

 

                                JILL

What do you mean?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

One or two?

 

                                ERIC & JILL

Two.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

God damn it...

(Exits, annoyed)

 

     JILL

Wait, she did mean two glasses, right?

 

                                HEATHER

What else is on that survey?  I’m curious, now.

 

                           (MISS BLABLE enters again)

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Okay, crap!  We’re all out of lemon peels, so I’m going to have to find some liver, instead.  It’ll take me a bit to find some.  I just need to look around the place.  Sit tight, for now!  And don’t anyone touch anything in my goddamn living room!

 

(SHE exits)

 

     HEATHER

What?  Lemon peels?  Liver?  God, people these days!  With your health food and your pride parades and your hippedy hop!  I just want to live in a normal place with normal neighbors.  Is that asking so much?

 

                                SHANNON

I don’t even talk to my neighbors, and this is why.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Off)

Lucifer, you stupid cat!  Get out of the gelatin mold!  Because it’s lime, that’s why.  Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.  You know perfectly well that lime is what saves starving nations, like that Sally Struthers woman, and cocaine.  Leave it alone!

 

(There is a ruckus, off stage, and then some loud, low BARKING)

 

     ERIC

That’s a rather large cat.

 

                                SHANNON

You don’t think...maybe she escaped from the mental hospital?

 

                                JILL

Oh my God!

 

(MISS BLABLE enters, carrying two EMPTY GLASSES, which she sets down on the coffee table)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Here you go.

 

                                JILL

Where’s the O.J.?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Didn’t you watch the trials?

 

                                SHANNON

Did you really expect actual orange juice?

 

                                ERIC

I expected something, after all that racket.

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, who knows what she’s doing, in there!  She’s obviously schizoid-frantic, or whatever-it’s-called.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

And just what is that supposed to mean, Ms. Heathblerble Goodlin?

 

                                HEATHER

She steals, she hits people and throws them around, she makes imaginary orange juice...What kind of neighborhood is this, to let someone like her live in it?  I don’t want my children growing up around a dangerous, crazy person.  Not to mention, you haven’t even offered us one whit of hospitality!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Hospitality?  You want a hospital, missy?  Wait here, I’ll get my shotgun.

 

                                HEATHER

She’s threatening to get a shotgun!  That’s it – she should not be allowed to live around normal people.

 

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Agreeing, referring to herself)

Yeah, she’s crazy!

 

                                HEATHER

I am going to the community about this.  We’re going to get you out of here.  Because if you won’t move away, I will!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Fine!  Get out of my house!

 

                                HEATHER

With pleasure!

 

(Before HEATHER can even turn, MISS BLABLE dashes past her to the front door; MISS BLABLE takes out a large skeleton key and locks the front door from the inside)

 

     SHANNON

What are you doing?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I’ve locked the door.

 

                                HEATHER

Well, I’m leaving.  Get out of my way.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

No!  No one is leaving this house.  We’re all staying right where we are.  So, sit down, Heathblerble!

 

                                HEATHER

But you just told me you wanted me to get out.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, I lied.  And now, I think I’ll lie down.

 

(And with a swift, sudden movement, SHE tips over and crashes to the floor; SHE immediately falls asleep, as the OTHERS stare at her;

 

The scene freezes...

 

NICHOLE enters; SHE looks around at the frozen scene, giddy with delight; SHE comes forward and addresses the audience)

 

 

 

 

     NICHOLE

Well, it appears our gang is in a bit of a fix, yes?  Now, now...I know what you’re all thinking – “Who on earth is this silly old bitch that keeps interrupting things?”  Well, very soon, we shall see just how I fit into all of this.  And you will see how it all ties together, in the end.  Hopefully.  First, however, I feel it my duty as a teacher to give some clarity to the situation.  You may wonder just what is going on in this ridiculous play.  The answer is simple: Miss Blable is an Absurdist.  And I am a devout follower of Theatre of the Absurd, just as I am a skilled linguist and teacher of French, the most absurd language ever invented.  So now, in an annoyingly pretentious and condescending device, I shall explain to the audience what Theatre of the Absurd is.  Now, this shouldn’t be very difficult.  It is precisely what it sounds like.  The world does not make sense.  Characters behave in bizarre and unrealistic, often contradictory, ways.  Everything is topsy-turvy.  Therefore, one must draw one’s own conclusions.  At the moment, it would appear that Shannon, Heather, Jill and Eric are not adjusting to it very well.  They haven’t fully grasped the situation yet, and it’s frustrating the living piss out of them.  They are trying to rationalize everything, and it won’t work.  Schizophrenia?  Hardly!  Now, what does this have to do with anything whatsoever, you ask?  Well, who cares?  Miss Blable is an Absurdist, so nothing needs to make any sense.  Right?

(Angrily)

Wrong!  Everything in meaninglessness has meaning!  Miss Blable has meaning.  The chalkboard has meaning.  This stage has meaning.  My foot has meaning.  Even meaning itself has meaning.  But before we drown in all the disgusting amount of meaning, I shall offer a tiny sliver of salvation.  I doubt it will help, but here it is: Try not to think of this situation so much as a day in the life of several ordinary and realistic people coming into contact with the Absurd world, but rather a day in the Absurd Life of Miss Blable coming into bewildering conflict with the “normal” world – a world which makes no sense to her.  I don’t really know what exact purpose this will serve, but it may help you keep your patience and possibly your sanity.  I’ve already lost mine.  But that’s a different story.  Well actually, it’s not.  You’ll see what I mean when...Well, just don’t worry about it – It will all make sense in the end.  I promise.

(Annoyed with herself)

What the hell is my problem?

 

(SHE exits;

 

The scene resumes

 

MISS BLABLE is snoring loudly on the floor)

 

     HEATHER

Miss Blable!  Miss Blable!

 

                                JILL

We’re trapped here.

                                SHANNON

This is ridiculous.  I need to go.  I’ve got things to do.  I’m already running late.

 

                                HEATHER

Miss Blable, wake up this instant!

 

                                SHANNON

You know...Maybe if you hadn’t yelled at her...She may be crazy, but she has a right to live, too.  You got her upset.  We wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t.

 

                                HEATHER

You think this is my fault?  I’m the one suffering the most here, I’m quite sure.  You don’t have to live next to a crazy person who hits you and steals from you.  And it’s not my fault you insulted her donations.

 

                                SHANNON

Oh yes, it was the donations.  That’s what caused it, huh?  Well, if you’ve got it all figured out, why don’t you figure out how to get the door open?

 

                                HEATHER

Why don’t you figure it out?

 

                                SHANNON

Why don’t you stop stalking out of your ass?

 

                                HEATHER

Why don’t you bite my ass?!

 

                                SHANNON

Bitch!

 

(SHANNON and HEATHER get into a catfight)

 

     JILL

What are you doing?  Stop it!  Stop it!

 

                                ERIC

Just take the key.

 

                                SHANNON

I cannot stand you soccer-moms with your damn SUVs!  There are people starving, out there!

 

                                ERIC

Just take the key.

 

                                HEATHER

They aren’t starving for SUVs, you bleeding heart hippy!

                                JILL

Stop fighting!

 

                                ERIC

Just take the key.

 

                                SHANNON

You’re a hypocritical, fake, conformist—

 

                                HEATHER

I ought to shove a boot straight up your—

 

                                ERIC

TAKE THE GODDAMN KEY!!!

 

(HEATHER and SHANNON stop fighting)

 

     JILL

What is wrong with you two?

 

                                ERIC

She’s asleep, people.  Just take the key.  Dumbasses.

 

                                JILL

She looks like she’s still sleeping.  But how can we know for sure?

 

                                ERIC

I don’t think it’s important that she really is sleeping, just that she thinks she is.  Just reach down quietly.  We’ll unlock the door and leave it on the coffee table and all go our separate ways.  Okay?

 

(SHANNON quietly reaches down to take the key from MISS BLABLE; suddenly MISS BLABLE darts awake and clutches SHANNON’S arm)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Thief!  Thief!  Salvation Army thief!

 

(LIGHTS flicker angrily)

 

     HEATHER

Get it from her!

 

(HEATHER lunges for MISS BLABLE, who rises with great agility and uses SHANNON as a shield to block HEATHER; Both SHANNON and HEATHER go crashing to the floor;

 

MISS BLABLE kicks HEATHER while she’s down, then hurls herself up onto the couch, reaches down to scoop some soil from the potted plant, and tosses the soil about at everyone, all while shouting the following...)

 

     MISS BLABLE

No!  Parry!  Down, down!  London bridge!  Just for kicks!  Ally-oop!  Ten-four!  Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, with dirt falling down from Heaven!

(Intense, deadly)

Give us this day our daily key?  I think not.  I had such a wonderful nap.  I’m in such a splendid mood.  I should kill you all.  Thought you could take it, didn’t you?  Thought you could pull the wool over my eyes, huh?  Well, I hate all of you nice people!  This is my key.  Get your own.

 

                                SHANNON

Look, we just wanted it to leave your house.  To unlock the door, that’s all!

 

                                JILL

Yes.  Please, let us out.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh no!  You’re all staying right here until you meet “Them”.  I’ll take care of this.

 

(SHE dashes off, exiting to the kitchen, before anyone can stop her;

 

While ERIC is helping SHANNON and HEATHER get up and recover, there is the sound of an awful, metallic grinding NOISE, off stage)

 

     JILL

What was that noise?

 

(MISS BLABLE enters, freshly)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Well!  That certainly takes care of that.

 

                                JILL

What?  What did you do?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I put the key down the garbage disposal.

 

                                OTHERS

What?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Down the garbage disposal!

                                ERIC

You...you mean...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Musically)

All gone!

 

                                JILL

(Pause)

But...out...I want out...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, no, no, no!  You are staying right here until your ambulance arrives.

 

                                JILL

But you never called an ambulance.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, you’re not leaving then, are you?

 

                                JILL

(Starting to cry)

I want out.  Why won’t you let us out?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I told you – not until you meet “Them”.

 

                                ERIC

“Them?”  Who’s “Them?”

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Wouldn’t you like to know?

 

                                ERIC

Yes.  I would.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, too bad!  It’s a surprise.  And we mustn’t spoil the surprise.  Because then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?  No, it’d be a pile of pointless shit, that’s what it would be.

 

                                JILL

I don’t care about surprises.  I need to go to the university and take classes and go to parties and...Oh God, I want to live!  Please let us out!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Never!

 

(Scene freezes...

 

NICHOLE enters; MISS BLABLE steps forward to meet her)

 

     NICHOLE

Never.  Jamais.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Jamais.  French for “never”.

 

                                NICHOLE

I will never die again.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Je ne mourirai jamais encore.

 

                                NICHOLE

Now, I believe we are currently nearing the moment when I enter our little story—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

My story!

 

                                NICHOLE

Yes, I enter our story.  You see, I know Miss Blable quite well.  It was she who introduced me to the world of the Absurd.  In fact, I don’t remember much before that.  In fact, I don’t remember much before that.  In fact, I don’t remember much before that.

(Glances back at the frozen characters)

It appears our characters have nearly reached their breaking points.  Now, to set them over the edge and send them hurtling into utter madness and chaos!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Wait – do what?

 

(NICHOLE exits without answering; MISS BLABLE shrugs and chats with the audience for a moment)

 

Oh well.  I have no idea what’s going on, anyway.  These people make no sense.  And the writer won’t listen to me.  He’s an asshole.  But I do want to apologize for the long monologue earlier, and for all the French.  The writer feels it needs to be in here – God knows why.  I just wanted everyone to know all about me, and my story – which will unfold, eventually.  I hope so, at least.  But how should I know?  I’m just a fictional character, right?  Yeah, well, so are all of you!  Just leave me alone!  I hate you all!

 

(Scene resumes as SHE is in mid-yell)

 

So go to hell!

 

                                JILL

Please don’t kill us.  At least, not me...I’ve never done anything to you.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh yes, you did – you got your stupid ass lost again!  What did I tell you, last time?

 

                                JILL

(Hysterical, terrified)

Last time?  There never was a last time!  I swear!  I swear, you’ve got the wrong girl!  It wasn’t me!

 

                                SHANNON

Let’s just stay calm here, people.

 

                                HEATHER

But who knows what she’s going to do to us?

 

                                JILL

Oh God, someone help us!!

 

                                ERIC

No, she’s right – we have nothing to be afraid of.  There are four of us, and only one of her.

 

(A VOICE chimes in from off stage)

 

     VOICE

But there’s plenty of me!

 

                                ERIC

Who said that?

 

(Grand, heavenly MUSIC plays out of nowhere; Intense LIGHT bathes the stage...

 

A window is opened from the outside; climbing through it is NICHOLE, who is now dressed in a stylized wig, gaudy clothing, lipstick smears on her face, and carrying a ridiculously oversized purse...

 

SHE looks as if she had just climbed straight from the depths of Absurdist Hell)

 

     NICHOLE

We have arrived.

 

                                JILL

Oh my God, it’s a burglar...or something!

 

                                ERIC

Who...?

 

(As NICHOLE continues speaking, she darts her face about jaggedly, lizard-like; her British accent has nearly doubled in force and sounds caricature-like and false)

 

     NICHOLE

Ah, yes indeed!  Tis a pretty little hovel, just as we remembered it!  Never again and never before, did Never and Neville go finding a whore.  Silence!  We are here now.  We do wish to apologize for being fashionably tardy, but we won’t because we’re malicious and better than everyone else.  Besides, we got ourselves stranded in a maelstrom of broccoli forests.  You know how it is – ridiculous plane of existence!  But the real problem was in my name, and in the sex, and in my name.  Now, now, now...How are things going on this side of oblivion?  Swimmingly, I should hope!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, everything’s going just as planned.  Except for the abundance of people getting lost, lately...

 

                                ERIC & JILL

We’re not lost.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

And the amnesia, as well...

 

                                NICHOLE

Oh dearie dear!  Dearie, my dear!  Feet sucking buttermilk, all over!  Lost with amnesia, you seem to say?  Well, what a horrible, tragical, hideously magical, crustily indigenous, the Sisters-of-Stygia-ness, parliamentary-obstinate, look-out-for-Bob-stinate, congratulatory, we’ll-all-tell-a-story, let’s-listen-to-Tori, my-face-is-a—

 

                                ERIC

Stop that!  That’s annoying as hell!

 

                                NICHOLE

How dare you?  You impudent toad!!  Henceforth, you shall be quiet!

 

(SHE sharply turns and looks at the air in some opposite direction, then grabs a tube of lipstick from her gargantuan purse; SHE violently smears lipstick all over her lips, then hurls the lipstick violently to the floor)

 

 

 

 

     MISS BLABLE

Oh, now calm down, Nicholble.  They’re actually nice people, once you get to know them.  Except for that one – Heathblerble.  Just forget she even exists.  It helps.  But – shall I make the introductions that actually matter?  This is Shannblable Smith, who’s too hasty for her own good.  And this is Jillblable Hoover, who’s dumb as a rock, I’m afraid.  And of course Ericble Davis, with whom you’ve had a little tiff!  But don’t let it get to you – he’s such a kind, handsome young thing – he’s just disagreeable sometimes because he’s in college and complains about everything since the whole world revolves around him.  Separately, they’re all more or less a waste of space, but together they’re such lovely company.  Don’t you agree?

 

                                NICHOLE

(Through a spasm)

Noooo, I detest every living being!

(Has a quick but dramatic fit, after which SHE seems to completely switch into a different personality; SHE becomes a rather passive and cool Southern Belle)

Oh, I love them all.  All God’s creatures!  I love all things, thank you kindly.

(Another fit; switches to British again)

No, we want these disgusting things out of our sight at once!

(Southern Belle again)

Oh, now where are your manners?  They’re such lovely little guests.

 

(SHE continues arguing with herself in this fashion, becoming more and more passionate)

 

     JILL

Wh...what?!  Who!?  What’s going on?!  I want out!  Auuughhh, oh God, oh God, let us out!

 

(JILL panics and runs to the front door, desperately attempting to force it open, with no luck; SHE collapses against it and whimpers hysterically)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Now, you see that, Nicholble?  First amnesia, and now they’re going hysterical!

 

(MISS BLABLE suddenly starts cackling loudly, frightening JILL even more; NICHOLE joins her; they both stop just as suddenly)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with them.

 

 

 

                                ERIC

Excuse me – Who is this person?

                                NICHOLE

Did not I say to seal your mouth shut?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Everyone, this is my landlady, Nicholble Ionesco.  I know she may seem a little violent and peculiar, but that’s merely because she’s not right in the head.

 

                                NICHOLE

Indeed.  I’m a bloody lunatic.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Anyway, what brings you here today?

 

                                NICHOLE

Well, Miss Blable, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with you.  Come closer, my dear, so we may speak in private.  No, closer yet.  What are you doing?  Get the hell away from me.  Where are you going?  I said come here!  Closer!  Good.  Now...

(Takes a large pair of spectacles from her purse and puts them on; SHE pulls out a ridiculously long list; she studies it briefly, nods to herself, then screams the following at the top of her lungs)

YOUR BLOODY RENT IS BLOODY OVERDUE, YOU BLOODY BITCH!!!

 

(This unexpected outburst causes MISS BLABLE to let out a startled shriek, which in turn causes JILL to scream in terror;

 

JILL’S scream instantaneously infuriates NICHOLE, who screams back in anger, which causes JILL to scream again...

 

Soon, all three of them are screaming: NICHOLE in anger, JILL in terror, and MISS BLABLE because screaming is fun)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

Enough!

(Screaming stops)

As I was saying, your payment is due, in full, immediately.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Yes, of course.  How much?

 

                                NICHOLE

(Consulting her list)

Forty...

                                MISS BLABLE

Only forty?

 

                                NICHOLE

...thousand.  Forty thousand dollars!

 

                                SHANNON

How can she possibly owe so much?

 

                                NICHOLE

I have slept for an age.  Now, I return.

 

                                HEATHER

(Relieved)

So...so, there’s no way she can pay such a huge amount, right?  She’ll have to be evicted!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Let me just get my purse.  I’ll be right back.

(Exits)

 

     HEATHER

Purse...?

 

                                SHANNON

Her purse?  She can’t possibly...what, in her purse?  She doesn’t even have...she gives a stick...I mean...God!  GOD!!

 

                                NICHOLE

Shall we play a rather amusing game?

 

                                ERIC

What game?

 

(NICHOLE flies into a frenzy and begins running about the room, trashing the place;  OTHERS rush about the room, shouting, screaming, and staying out of her path – the last of which they are only successful of half the time...

 

NICHOLE stops the “game” just in time for MISS BLABLE to enter again; SHE stands quietly, as if nothing had happened;

 

MISS BLABLE pulls out a random assortment form her purse of plastic “gold coins”, chocolates, and condoms – SHE hands all of this to NICHOLE)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Here you are.  Forty thousand.  Now, don’t spend it all in one place.

                                NICHOLE

(As LIGHTS flicker)

One place?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

One place.

 

                                BOTH

One multi-lingual place...

 

                                NICHOLE

Poppycock!  You cannot tell me how to spend my own money.  I have several things I need to purchase, anyhow.

(Consults list)

Yes, I need a new fur coat, some Yetis, a giant statue of a pile of feces, and half a dog.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Looks around the room)

Who made this mess?

 

                                NICHOLE

I saw them do it!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I am not cleaning this up.

 

                                NICHOLE

Nor shall I!

 

                                HEATHER

We didn’t do this!  She did!

 

                                NICHOLE

She’s lying – it wasn’t them, it was me!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

You?  Nicholble, you clean this up, at once!

 

                                NICHOLE

No!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Yes!

 

                                NICHOLE

Never!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Clean it up!

 

 

(NICHOLE points her finger at MISS BLABLE, in a challenge)

 

     NICHOLE

Gunga!

 

(Pause; MISS BLABLE is taken aback, but she accepts the challenge)

 

     ERIC

What?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Semblable!

 

                                SHANNON

(A sense of dread)

Oh no...

 

(The next sequence of lines happens one on top of another, everything going on all at once:

 

MISS BLABLE and NICHOLE engage in a heated duel of nonsense words, while the OTHERS react; LIGHT and SOUND cues abound...

 

The duel of words, though nonsense, contains the intentions and inflections of a true argument, with gestures, builds and climaxes)

 

     NICHOLE

Gungafoo!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Semblablenip!

 

                                HEATHER

What are you doing?

 

                                NICHOLE

Blenip?  Oh, nip!  Niptahnk!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Veemer meemer, semblaBLECH!

 

                                NICHOLE

Mephblat!  Nushrum, mooger moog!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Incrashtablizzits blable, Nicholble bloble, fugga mugga misher mo!

                                JILL

SOMEONE LET US OUT!

 

                                NICHOLE

Nicholableblable!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Semblablablable!

 

                                NICHOLE

BlaMAH?  Fractinoid!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Scrumtrilescent!

 

                                ERIC

What the--?

 

                                JILL

SOMEONE!

 

                                NICHOLE

Bufnuf, shablab, krakatoafarm, nilstid, noshef, oom, meow, here chick chick, dippin dots, Anton Chekhov, krazamsplazamflazam!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Semblable, semblable, cromblable, nostable, blable, semblable, my blable, your blable, muhblable, blable, blable, semBLOOBLE!

 

                                SHANNON

Shut!  Up!

 

                                HEATHER

I can’t take it!  I can’t take it anymore!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Semblablocity!

 

                                NICHOLE

Ramnorg!!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(A deep breath)

SEMBLABLEMONTARIA!

 

(NICHOLE gasps and stares at MISS BLABLE as if she had just uttered some ultimately mortifying and forbidden word.

 

The scene freezes...

 

NICHOLE comes down and addresses the audience)

 

     NICHOLE

Hmm...I’m trying to find a way to explain what just happened, without getting altogether frustrated.  Now, I know you’re not dullards, but let me see if I can put this the right way...

 

(Unseen by NICHOLE, MISS BLABLE unfreezes in the background and starts picking up some of the mess, all the while mocking NICHOLE as she talks to the audience)

 

Yes, Miss Blable and I had a sort of duel.  An argument, of sorts!  It had much to do with the story, but there was something oddly...never mind that, I’m straying, here.  The argument of nonsense obviously made no sense to the other characters and uttered discombobulated them.  Perhaps if they had known my advice – forget themselves for a moment and observe the situation from Miss Blable’s perspective!  Right?  Right.  They are very dumb.  Elles sont tres bêtes.  Good.  And on we go.

 

(MISS BLABLE has placed an object in NICHOLE’S path; NICHOLE tries over it on her way back to the scene)

 

Shit!  Merde!

 

(Scene resumes)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

(To MISS BLABLE)

What...what did you say?  How dare you say that to me!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

You heard me.

 

                                NICHOLE

And shall soon sorely wish that I had not, Miss Blable.  You shall pay dearly for this...this outrage!  This abominable insolence!  This unfathomable desecration of all that is respectfully mannered!  You shall answer for this!

(Pleasant as pie)

Well, thank you ever so much for paying me.  I do appreciate it.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

It was my pleasure.

 

                                NICHOLE

Oh yes?

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Any time!  And please, make yourself comfortable and stay a while.  Would you like some tea and cake?

 

                                NICHOLE

Yes, if you please.  I take it with two lumps.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Of sugar?

 

                                NICHOLE

What?  Oh, two lumps...Yes, but not with tea.  That isn’t what I meant, dear.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I’ll be right back, then.  Everyone just stay put...because you’re locked in and you have to!

(Exits)

 

     HEATHER

(Breaking the silence)

Tea and cake...tea and cake...!  You know, you foreigners...you can’t even have the decency to argue in English, and now you’re all “tea and cake!”  Can’t you drink something American, like some coffee?

 

                                SHANNON

This is your greatest concern about what just happened?

 

                                HEATHER

Well, now I understand what’s going on!  I thought she was schizoid-frantic, but she’s just a crazy foreigner.  You know, you’re in America now – speak American and drink coffee.

 

(NICHOLE chuckles)

 

     SHANNON

What’s so funny?

 

                                NICHOLE

(Pointing to HEATHER)

She thinks we’re in America.

 

                                ERIC

We are.

 

                                NICHOLE

Are we?  Have yourselves a look out the window.

 

                                OTHERS

(Realizing)

The window!

 

(SHANON, HEATHER, ERIC and JILL all make a mad dash for the window in an attempt to escape; ERIC reaches it first...

 

There are sizzling, buzzing noises as ERIC touches the windowsill – the window is electrocuting him; the LIGHTS flicker...

 

In a panic, SHANNON tries to pry him away and gets electrocuted herself; HEATHER does likewise; JILL helps the situation by screaming hysterically;

 

NICHOLE chuckles for a bit before calling out...)

 

     NICHOLE

The window!  The window!  The non-electric window!

 

(The window suddenly stops being electrical; ERIC, HEATHER and SHANNON fall to the floor)

 

     JILL

Oh God, oh God, oh God...Are you all okay?  Are you all alive?

 

                                HEATHER

(Sits up)

That’s weird.  I feel just fine.

 

                                SHANNON

So do I.  I don’t understand – that electric current should have killed us all!

 

                                ERIC

(In great pain)

OWWWW!!!

 

                                NICHOLE

Well, I can’t help everyone.

 

                                HEATHER

What is on that window?

 

                                JILL

Don’t touch it again!

 

                                SHANNON

Relax, I’m just looking...

(Glances outside)

Guys...what are the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre doing outside?

 

                                NICHOLE

Didn’t I tell you?

 

                                SHANNON

And the Pyramids and...Sphinx...?

 

                                HEATHER

Wait, I don’t understand – if the window is electrical, how did you climb in, earlier?

 

                                NICHOLE

Because that’s how nonsense works!

 

                                SHANNON

(Still staring outside)

We’re in...Frangypt...What...what’s going...?

 

                                ERIC

                           (Still in pain)

OWWWW!!!

 

                                NICHOLE

Well, what are you all so unraveled about?  Of course France and Egypt are outside.  We’re in here, and they’re out there, and that’s just the way things are at half-past French in the afternoon.

 

                                ERIC

Ohhh, God, that hurt...

 

                                NICHOLE

Here, let me see.

 

(NICHOLE helps ERIC to his feet; SHE examines him, as if he were a strange bug; then, she weeps for a bit; then she tenderly and soothingly pets him; then she weeps some more; then she looks at him as if he were a piece of meat; then she turns and stares at the corner of the room)

 

     ERIC

(Surprised)

Huh...I feel better.

 

                                NICHOLE

(Facing the wall)

I thought you might.

 

                                HEATHER

So now what?

 

 

                                SHANNON

Maybe we can find another way out of here.

 

                                HEATHER

How?  Fly?

 

(There is a yelp, off stage.  MISS BLABLE enters carrying a fly swatter, swatting viciously at the air with it)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Fly!  Fly!  It was on my tea and cake, spreading disease and filth.  Oh die, already!  Die, die, Lord of the Flies!  Lord of the Flies!  Lord of the Flies!

 

(SHE swats HEATHER on the forehead; oddly, it is ERIC, JILL and SHANNON who all react and grab their foreheads, while HEATHER just sits there)

 

     SHANNON, JILL & ERIC

Ow!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

How inspiring!  I shall call it “Forehead of Smearèd Death.”  It shall be hung in the Louvre, just outside, next to the Mona Lisa.  Oh, Da Vinci!  He loved me in bed, you know.  All those years ago, back when that wasn’t me.  Oh, Leo...

 

(SHE exits, dreamily, back to the kitchen; HEATHER stands, with an odd gleam in her eye)

 

     HEATHER

Art...yes, that’s it.  Not schizo-whatever or foreign – she’s an artist.  And all of this – this is art.  We should have more...More art!  Excuse me, while I work on my own masterpiece – “The Hell Neighbor’s Demise.”

 

(HEATHER exits to the kitchen)

 

     JILL

Wait!  Stop her!  She can’t go in there.  She’ll become just like Miss Blable.

 

                                ERIC

By going in there?  How do you figure?

 

                                JILL

I don’t know.  It just felt like the right thing to say.

 

 

                                ERIC

Hairbrush.

 

                                JILL

Huh?

 

                                ERIC

Hairbrush.

 

                                JILL

What’s that mean?

 

                                ERIC

I have no idea.

 

                                SHANNON

I’ve got it!  We’ll cut our way out.

 

(SHANNON grabs the bag of glass and begins bashing it against the door, over and over; ERIC sits contemplating his “hairbrush” remark while JILL sits and whimpers; NICHOLE is busy having a conversation with herself about the price of rice in China;

 

Eventually, SHANNON comes to her senses and slowly gives up her futile attempt)

 

     SHANNON (continued)

What am I doing?

 

                                NICHOLE

...and you see, that’s why I feel they really ought to lower the price.  It’s outrageous, isn’t it?  Anyway, what do you feel like eating tonight?  Chinese?  No!  Weren’t you just listening?

 

                                SHANNON

What the hell am I doing?

 

                                ERIC

I’m going in there, after them.

 

                                JILL

No, don’t!  Our chances of survival are better if we all stick together.  Together we fall, divided we conquer.  I mean – together we fall, divide we lose our minds.

 

                                ERIC

It’ll be fine.  I’ll be careful.

 

(HEATHER enters, with a large spaghetti pot stuck on her head; MISS BLABLE is chasing her, banging on the pot with a wooden spoon; HEATHER falls over, and MISS BLABLE drops the spoon, overcome by a new idea)

 

     MISS BLABLE

I think it’s time you all met the cat.

(Exits)

 

(NICHOLE picks up the bag of glass and proceeds to “dust” the furniture and remaining mess with it; the OTHERS help remove the pot from HEATHER’S head)

 

     ERIC

Are you all right?

 

                                HEATHER

                           (Disoriented)

What?  Yes, I’d love some.

 

                                JILL

Can you hear us?

 

                                HEATHER

Only at night...

 

                                SHANNON

Ms. Goodlin, can you hear me?  Say something.

 

                                HEATHER

Beans of the Round Table with screaming pickles...?

 

                                SHANNON

Something normal, preferably...

 

                                HEATHER

Can I have sauce with that?

 

                                SHANNON

Right...

 

                                NICHOLE

Ugh!  Filthy furniture!

 

                           (MISS BLABLE enters)

 

                                MISS BLABLE

CAT!!!

 

(SHE flings a rather realistic-looking stuffed dog across the room; JILL shrieks and faints onto the floor; NICHOLE begins a life-and-death struggle with the “cat”)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

I’ll be right back.  The tea and cake is almost done.  I just have to add the final coat.

(Exits)

 

     HEATHER

What do you think causes people to become this way?

 

                                SHANNON

Her kitchen...her kitchen...her panoramic kitchen...

 

(LIGHTS flicker; SHANNON looks impressed)

 

     ERIC

Maybe it’s like lead poisoning or something.

 

(MISS BLABLE enters)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Okay.  I just finished watching “Tea and Cake” on my panoramic kitchen.  Now, for more physical activities!

 

(SHE joins the life-and-death struggle with NICHOLE and the “cat”)

 

     SHANNON

Panoramic...?  Hey, was the kitchen panoramic when you went in there?  Before I said that?

 

                                HEATHER

I don’t remember.  I had a pot on my head.

 

                                SHANNON

Well, I’m curious now.  I don’t know why, but I’d like to go in there.  That’s what’s going to happen anyway, since I can’t stop my feet from moving.  What’s going on?  Donations!  Donations!  A thousand good donations!  I’m moving, why am I moving...?

 

(SHANNON exits into the kitchen, against her own will, as LIGHTS flicker)

 

     HEATHER

Well, you do what you want.  I am staying right here.  Where am I going?

 

(HEATHER exits, against her will; MISS BLABLE notices this; SHE stops her struggle and exits after them;

 

NICHOLE and ERIC are left alone on stage together, with JILL still passed out on the floor)

 

     NICHOLE

Now, that we’re alone...Tell me, my dear: are you fond of emptiness?

 

                                ERIC

Pardon?

 

                                NICHOLE

Emptiness – are you fond of it?

 

                                ERIC

I don’t understand what you’re asking.  How can I be fond of something that isn’t there?

 

                                NICHOLE

Well, that’s a rather pessimistic attitude, don’t you think?  If you suspend your disbelief, you can do anything – fight wars...eat with the gods...meet straight people at Bette Midler concerts!  Anything is possible, and anything is rational.  So, I ask you once more: are you fond of emptiness?

 

                                ERIC

No.  No, I don’t like emptiness.

 

(NICHOLE slaps him across the face, offended)

 

     ERIC (continued)

Ow!  What was that for?  You asked me my opinion.

 

                                NICHOLE

Your opinion is flawed.

 

                                ERIC

I am entitled to my own opinion.

 

                                NICHOLE

No!

 

                                ERIC

Yes!

 

                                NICHOLE

Never!  Your reactions are entirely incorrect.

(Exits)

 

 

 

 

     ERIC

What the double-fudgey-crunch hell?  What is this?  Why did I even come here, to this theatre?  I mean, this house!  This is a house, right?  I’m confused.  Yes, it’s a house.  It’s the House of Hell.  This is Hell...normal looking for about five minutes, but there are little things that you don’t notice at first...partly-consumed plants, for instance...people passed out on the stage...I mean, the floor!  With sticks and oily rags and bags of glass...where hairbrushes have dental cake, and the dialogue makes no sense...Wait, what am I talking about?  How do I know this is dialogue?  This is such a weird play.  And how the hell do I know that this is a play?  I’m going crazy...It’s all the psychology studies, I’m going paranoid and schizoid-frantic and where the fuck did the wall go?!

(HE can suddenly see the audience)

Who the hell are all of you?!

 

(NICHOLE enters with a glass of water, which she tosses in ERIC’S face, pacifying him)

 

     NICHOLE

Wake up!

 

(SHE exits, leaving ERIC dripping wet and dazed; JILL begins to stir)

 

     JILL

Where am I?

 

                                ERIC

I don’t remember.

 

                                JILL

I was having a nightmare I was in Miss Blable’s house.

 

                                ERIC

What’s Miss Blable’s house?

 

                                JILL

Beats me, Eric.  Who are you?

 

                                ERIC

I’m Eric.  Who are you, Jill?

 

                                JILL

I’m Jill.

 

                                ERIC

Sweet.

 

                                JILL

Will you marry me?

                                ERIC

Marry you?  You’re not serious?

 

                                JILL

Why can’t I say whatever I want?  Even if you have a girlfriend, you’ll never see her again.  We’re here.  We can’t get out.  And I want your penis.

 

                                ERIC

You have nice boobs.  Maybe we could get out...but I feel stuck.  I have this strange feeling, somewhere between apathy and need.

 

                                JILL

So do I.

 

                                ERIC

I don’t have one, anyway.

 

                                JILL

Penis?

 

                                ERIC

No, girlfriend.

 

                                JILL

Oh.  Good.  Want to go in the secret passage and have sex?

 

                                ERIC

What secret passage?

 

                                JILL

The passage...the passage...the horny secret passage...

 

(A secret passage opens up in the wall)

 

     ERIC

How did you do that?

 

                                JILL

Who knows?  Come on.  I want to start college with Bone Me Hard 101.

 

(SHE takes him by the hand and they exit together into the secret passage; it shuts most of the way behind them, but remains slightly ajar

 

LIGHTS change; NICHOLE enters and talks to the audience)

 

 

 

 

     NICHOLE

Ah!  I see they’ve started to unravel the mystery.  And their clothes!  How wonderfully meaningful!  All the clues are here: a stick...oily rags...a bag of broken glass...Of course, none of this means anything, realistically.  The possibilities in absurdity are infinite, though.  You know, there are some who argue that, despite their differences, reality and absurdity are in fact quite similar.  The world changes, ever onward.  And so, our characters change, and our stories change, and our perspectives, and thus the way we tell them.  Perhaps, even, all of us are changing at this very moment.  Or perhaps everything else is changing, or perhaps nothing at all.  We’ll make more exciting discoveries after this little break.  So stay.  Restez.

 

(NICHOLE exits;

 

MISS BLABLE enters, looking at herself in a hand mirror; SHE tries maintaining a dramatic pose, but is too annoyed)

 

     MISS BLABLE

I hate this play so much.

 

 

-END OF ACT I-


INTERLUDE

 

The same as the end of Act I...The secret passage is still slightly ajar.  The only difference is that the DEAD BODY from earlier in the play is now lying downstage in plain view.

 

Wacky MUSIC begins to play.  MISS BLABLE and NICHOLE enter, dancing to it.  Throughout the dance, MISS BLABLE’S movements are rather graceful and cool, with an absurd elegance to them.  NICHOLE’S movements are jagged and spastically energetic, almost out of control.

 

As THEY dance, the two of them do various Absurdist-type things: biting the plant, beating the walls with the bag of glass, poking the DEAD BODY with the stick, etc.

 

MISS BLABLE begins speaking in rhythm with the music as it comes to an end.

 

 

MISS BLABLE

Now

It’s time,

Once again,

To complete

This insufferable tale—

This work of art!

Of art!

Of self-proclaimed art!

And oh, the pain!

The pain!

The photogenic pain!

 

(The dance ends, with NICHOLE and MISS BLABLE posing grandly;

 

While NICHOLE exits to fetch her chalkboard, MISS BLABLE chats with the audience)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Oh, wasn’t that fun?  I’m starting to enjoy myself.  I think I’ll just go ahead and make the best of things.

 

 

(Once NICHOLE is out of sight, MISS BLABLE whispers to the audience, conspiratorially)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Don’t tell her, but I found the writer and spoke with him, during intermission.  He agrees.  He doesn’t know what he was on when he wrote this play, and he wants to help me fix things.  He’s allowing me something, but I can’t talk about it now.

(As NICHOLE enters again with her    chalkboard)

Oh yes, I’m all psyched to do Act Two, now!  And I’m so glad that...most...of you stayed.  You know, maybe we can all go out for drinks after—

 

                                NICHOLE

(Interrupting, holding a book)

Now, to continue our lessons!  Chapter Twenty-seven-ish...abridged.  “And, to the ramparts and the rioting and the war criminals and the eternal stench, there was much rejoicing and despair.  Not to those who need nothing, but rather to those who need nothingness and everythingness and such similar things, like those which are found in that part of the doorway on your neighbor’s porch – the ones with the old beat up station wagon parked on the curb – all these pieces shall one day come together as the sexual organ of your imagination.”

(Closes book)

And now, I shall translate: Je vais bien.  Je suis bien.  J’ai besoin d’eau, et j’ai besoin d’argent.  Comment est ta tête?  Les soeurs du beurres, elles doivent mourir!”  Aha!  Remember that word?  Mourir!

(Writes on chalkboard)

To die!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Bored)

Semblable...To die...

 

                                NICHOLE

Non, non!  Vous ne comprenez pas.  Vous êtes semblables.

(Points to DEAD BODY)

Il est mort.  Wait a moment, what’s he doing here?  I thought I got rid of him.

 

(The DEAD BODY stands up, very much alive)

 

     DEAD BODY

Je suis mort.  I am dead.

 

(DEAD BODY exits; NICHOLE is quite alarmed)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Don’t worry.  I’ll handle this.

 

 

(MISS BLABLE picks up the stick and exits after the DEAD BODY; NICHOLE regains her composure)

 

     NICHOLE

Now, we shall continue with our story.  We’ve seen the intriguing new developments in the “normal” characters.  These changes shall continue to progress, and eventually you’ll see everyone naked.  Well, not literally naked.  When I say “naked”, I mean it in a spaghetti sense.  It was a metaphor.  What, you still don’t understand?  No, no...the word “spaghetti” was a metaphor, as well.  It meant “metaphorical”.  Metaphors for metaphors!  You see?  With such logic, everything becomes connected...becomes similar.  This is precisely the reason why I can switch emotions so freely.

(Despondent)

I want to die.

(Chatty)

Death is such an interesting subject, don’t you think?

(Terrified)

Oh God, I’m so afraid of dying!

(Sexy)

Though, the thought of dying does turn me on a little.

(To the chalkboard)

I want you.  Now.

(To the audience)

See?  I’m seducing the chalkboard.  Now, do you see my point?  If you’ll excuse us, we must be alone.  Isn’t that right, my darling?

 

(SHE rolls the chalkboard off stage, seductively caressing it; she exits...

 

MISS BLABLE enters, prodding the still-alive-and-walking DEAD BODY on stage with the stick)

 

     MISS BLABLE

This isn’t a dead body.  This is a salesman.  I love him, I love him, I absolutely love this man!  You see, this is the character the writer promised me.  This one is mine.

(LIGHTS begin to change)

Oh, shoot!  Watch him for a few minutes, will you?  I’ve got to do this scene now.

 

(SHE puts down the stick and scurries off; the DEAD BODY/SALESMAN stares at the audience for a moment)

 

     SALESMAN

Hi.  I sell things.  I like Scorpios, swimming and masturbation.  If you’ll excuse me for about five minutes...

 

 

(HE exits, unzipping his pants; the LIGHTS continue to change, bringing us into the continuing story...)


ACT II

 

MISS BLABLE’S living room, once again...perhaps half an hour after the events of act one...or perhaps years later...

 

MISS BLABLE and NICHOLE enter from the kitchen.

 

 

MISS BLABLE

And this is the living room.  What type of architecture, you ask?  So do I.  What do you think it is?  Does this look Greco-Roman to you?  Oh, and you’ll notice the lovely new plant we’ve just added.

 

                                NICHOLE

Miss Blable, I am the owner of this property.  Of course I realize this is the bloody living room, you twit.  Are you completely out of your mind, or deliberately trying to peeve me?  Honestly!  Shall we continue the tour?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

By all means!  We’ve got all day, with those two tied up in the kitchen.  Do you think it was a good idea?

 

                                NICHOLE

Well, it does seem rather cruel.

 

(THEY both laugh wickedly; suddenly, the both stop laughing and begin screaming in horrible, horrible pain; they then laugh at this, delighted;

 

HEATHER and SHANNON enter, hopping, tied together with a rope)

 

     HEATHER

You let us go!  I demand you untie this rope, this instant.  This is simply unbelievable.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, well, well...The next door witch comes crawling back for my help.

 

                                HEATHER

I could press charges against you in about fifty different ways.

 

(SHANNON appears to be muddled and distant)

 

     SHANNON

May I keep the rope for donations?

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, Heathblerble, if you ask me nicely, for a change, I’ll grant you any wish your fussy little heart desires...So long as you answer me these questions three!  Are you up for it?

 

                                HEATHER

I suppose.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Are you ready?

 

                                HEATHER

Yes.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Are you sure?

 

                                HEATHER

Yes!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Those were the three questions.  Good job!  Now, let me hear your request.  Politely, please!

 

                                HEATHER

(Forcing manners)

Miss Blable, would you please untie us?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, that’s a rather selfish request.  After all, you aren’t the only one tied up.  Maybe you should politely ask Shannblable how she feels about it.

 

(SHANNON has been muttering softly to herself the whole time...)

 

     SHANNON

Donations.  I want donors.  Organ donors.  Brain transplants.  I need brain transportation.  I need condemnation.  I want condiments.  On a hotdog.  Will someone get me a hotdog?  With mustard, relish and donations...lots and lots of donations...

 

                                HEATHER

That’s ridiculous!  Of course she wants to be released.  She just...isn’t coherent at the moment, and that’s your fault!  You’ve made her go crazy.  So, being as I’m the only lucid one who can make rational decisions, I demand you untie both of us right now!

 

                                NICHOLE

No!

 

 

                                HEATHER

Yes!  Right now!

 

                                NICHOLE

Never!

 

(SHANNON starts to become aware, still muttering)

 

     SHANNON

Donations...donations...?  Donations!

(To HEATHER)

Uh...donations!  Idea!  Hop, hop!

 

                                HEATHER

Hop, hop...

 

                                SHANNON

This way!

 

(SHANNON and HEATHER hop their way towards the bag of broken glass)

 

     MISS BLABLE

(To NICHOLE)

Just look at that.  Shannblable has always been so much brighter and more resourceful than Heathblerble.  She’s very promising, wouldn’t you say?

 

                                NICHOLE

I say nothing.  I refuse.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

But where do you suppose Ericble and Jillblable ran off to?

 

(NICHOLE notices the slightly ajar secret passage)

 

     NICHOLE

What on earth is this?  Where did this door come from?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, I’d say it looks like a secret passage.

 

                                NICHOLE

What the devil is a sordid “secret passage” doing on my property?  Move it at once!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I didn’t put it there.

 

 

                                NICHOLE

Well, I want you to get rid of it.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Nonsense!  How?

 

                                NICHOLE

Quickly and wearing stilts!

(Notices SHANNON and HEATHER, who have used the glass to cut their ropes)

They’re loose!

 

(SHANNON grabs the stick and holds it like a weapon)

 

     SHANNON

Stay back!  I’m warning you.  I’ve got a donation, and I know how to use it.

 

                                HEATHER

Now, you do as we say.  We want out of here.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, I’m sorry.  There’s nothing I can do.  The key is gone, remember?

 

                                HEATHER

Isn’t there a spare?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I’m not sure.

(To NICHOLE)

Is there?

 

                                NICHOLE

Of course there is.

 

                                HEATHER

Where is it?

 

                                NICHOLE

Outside.  In America.  Unfortunately, we’re still in Frangypt.

 

                                HEATHER

Why on earth do you have a door that locks with a skeleton key from the inside, anyway?  No one has those anymore!  Aren’t you worried about getting locked in?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

We are locked in.  Do I look worried?

 

 

                                SHANNON

Is there any other way out?

 

                                NICHOLE

(Malevolent)

You could try the window again.  It’s safe now.  I promise.

 

                                SHANNON

Damn it...

 

                                HEATHER

Well, do you have a back door?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Did you see a back door anywhere?

 

                                HEATHER

(To SHANNON)

Did you...?  Wait, was there...?

 

                                SHANNON

I don’t remember.

 

                                HEATHER

We must have...I mean, we were in there for hours.  Weren’t we?

 

                                SHANNON

Or a few minutes, at least...

 

                                HEATHER

No...no, it was two weeks, minimum!

 

                                SHANNON

I can’t remember any of it.

 

                                HEATHER

All I can remember is the kitchen is that way, and...it makes no sense!

 

(HEATHER and SHANNON both sit down, unnerved and exhausted)

 

     HEATHER (continued)

Wait a minute...If there’s no way out, where did those other two go?

 

                                NICHOLE

I’ve used them for fuel.  And if you aren’t careful, you’ll be next.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Actually, they’re probably inside the secret passage.  In the dark...doing what college students do...

 

                                SHANNON

Secret passage?  Is it a way out?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, that depends.  It leads in all directions, and none of them at all, taking you sideways, upwards and downwind, in and out and to and fro.  It’s there, and it isn’t.  It’s a secret that’s plain to see.

 

                                HEATHER

What does that even mean?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

That’s something a person like you, Heathblerble, could never understand.

 

                                HEATHER

Of course not!  It made no sense!

 

                                SHANNON

Is it...a riddle or something?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Perhaps someday you’ll find the answer, Shannblable.

 

                                NICHOLE

What are you keeping in that dreary turd of a passage, anyhow?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, the usual: clothes...old furniture...resentment.  But it changes, with my mood.  Oh, that gives me an idea!

(Calls loudly into the passage)

The passage!  The passage!  The rat-infested passage!

 

(LIGHTS flicker; we hear the sound of hundreds of RATS squeaking and moving about rapidly, from behind the walls; we then hear JILL and ERIC screaming, distantly;

 

MISS BLABLE quickly shuts the passage tightly and stands in front of it, blocking it shut; after a few moments, we hear ERIC and JILL slam into the inside of the wall)

 

     HEATHER

Was that them?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

If it was, then I’ve done a little mixing.  You see, the problem is in the rats, and in the sex, and in the rats.  Perhaps we’ve solved a little nonsense.  But there’s only one way to find out.  Nichole, help me open it back up.

 

                                NICHOLE

And how does one do that?

 

(MISS BLABLE slaps NICHOLE across the face)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Piss off!

 

                                NICHOLE

(Slapping MISS BLABLE)

To the devil with you, then!

 

(The secret passage opens; NICHOLE looks impressed; ERIC and JILL clumsily fall into the room; THEY are both covered in telltale signs of a sexual encounte: JILL’S hair is a mess; ERIC is covered in JILL’S lipstick; clothes on both are disheveled and undone)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Why, hello.

 

                                NICHOLE

Dear me!  These certainly are large rats.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What have we been doing in the passage, now?

 

                                ERIC

Nothing.

 

                                JILL

No, nothing.

 

                                NICHOLE

Speaking rats!  Extraordinary!

 

(ERIC and JILL attempt to straighten themselves out; they both sit, awkwardly distant from each other; a brief, uncomfortable silence)

 

     JILL

So...can we go yet?

 

(Suddenly, NICHOLE begins screaming in horror and starts pointing in a zillion different places; the OTHERS panic; even MISS BLABLE seems startled by this)

 

 

 

     JILL (continued)

What, what?!  What’s going on?!  What did I say?!  WHERE IS IT, WHERE, WHAT IS IT NOW?!

 

(NICHOLE stops screaming and looks at JILL, curiously)

 

     NICHOLE

Did you say, “Where is the cow?”  She’s at the bank today.  Her account has been overdrawn, so I told her the bank might be a good place to rob.  That way, she’ll have enough to take that trip to Switzerland she’s been dreaming about ever since she was a kitten.  Speaking of which – this particular cow is a gourmet, specializing in Swiss cheeses.  You know, the kind with holes!  Perhaps it’s because she’s been shot so many times.

 

(ALL stare at NICHOLE in utter bafflement; MISS BLABLE is embarrassed and looks away, anticipating the worst)

 

     JILL

(Holding back)

No.  I did not say, “Where is the cow?”  I don’t even know who “the cow” is.  You were screaming, and I asked, “What is it, now?”  The least likely time for me to randomly inquire, “Where is the cow?” would be when someone is screaming in horror and freaking out.  In fact, I don’t give a shit about the fucking “cow.”

(Letting it out)

I hope “the cow” fucking dies.  I hope “the cow” gets shot again, so she can go make her fucking Swiss cheese in “Cow Hell”.  And I am not a rat – not to you or the fucking “cow”.  And I never will be!  What the hell is wrong with you people?!  Fuck “the cow”!!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Now, calm down, Jillblable

 

(JILL snaps completely, surprising everyone)

 

     JILL

I HATE “THE COW”!  I HATE HER!  I HATE THE FUCKING COW, AND I HATE ALL OF YOU!  YOU INTERRUPTED US!  I WAS HAVING A GOOD FUCK!  IN THE FUCKING PASSAGE!  AND THERE WAS NO FUCKING COW!  I HAVEN’T HAD A GOOD FUCK IN MONTHS!  MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONTHSSSSS!!!

 

(JILL has a hysterical screeching/sobbing tantrum; after a while SHE becomes aware of herself; she sits in silence; EVERYONE does, for a long time)

 

 

 

     NICHOLE

(Tentatively)

Well...about my cow...She’s already dead.  But don’t worry – she’s still producing.  Remarkable creature!  But it’s not really milk, by now.  It’s more a sour cream.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Trying to break the tension)

Is that the famous Nicholble’s Super Sour Cream you always use in your Mexican dishes?  The ones you throw at young couples in the park?

 

                                NICHOLE

Well, I don’t mean to boast, but I do make one hell of an enchilada.

 

                                JILL

I think I’m going to be sick.

 

(MISS BLABLE offers JILL the bag of glass)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Here, use this, Jillblable.

 

                                JILL

(Miserable)

Why do you keep calling me that?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What?  Your name?  Well, what would you rather be called?  Cleopatra, your majesty?

 

                                NICHOLE

She killed herself with a snake, you know.

 

(NICHOLE snaps her fingers:

 

The scene freezes...

 

SHE steps forward and addresses the audience)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

My, my!  That certainly was embarrassing.  But I’m sure it was quite meaningful and necessary.  I wasn’t expecting such a large reaction from her yet...Let’s not linger, though.  Moving on – Chapter XA.256: What to do in a situation involving a piece of flesh, a foreigner, and an electrical storm, all while seducing a goat.  What?  That doesn’t sound right.  That sounds more like Chapter 35%.  Let me consult my – Well, where has my chalkboard gone?  Does anyone...?  Who took my chalkboard?  Scurvy knaves!  I should’ve known better than to trust...Oh my God, where did my brazier go?

 

 

(The SALESMAN from before enters, dragging the chalkboard behind him; he’s also carrying a woman’s brazier, and his pants are unzipped)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

Who took my—?  What the bloody hell?

 

                                SALESMAN

Je m’appelle Dan.

 

                                NICHOLE

Dan?  I don’t remember a Dan.  I didn’t ask for a Dan.

 

                                DAN

Quelle dommage!  Aimez-vous mon verge?

 

                                NICHOLE

Silence!  You’re not Dan; you’re dead.  There isn’t any Dan, in this story.  Give me those.

(Snatches the brazier and chalkboard from him)

We do not need your presence.  Things are already underway, and the door is locked, and the key is gone, thank you very much.  Bugger off!  And you may want to XYZ, while you’re at it.

 

(DAN looks down at his fly; he zips up)

 

     DAN

Oh, whoops!  Wow, how embarrassing!  But stuff like that happens to me all the time.  Like the other day, I was masturbating when...Well, it’s a long story, and I’ve got to get ready.  I believe I’m about to enter selling women’s lingerie.  I’ve been doing this job ever since my wife left me because she found out I wet the bed as a child, and sometimes even today, I—

 

                                NICHOLE

Yes, that’s quite sufficient, thank you.

 

(DAN exits)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

Turdly nuisance!  I wasn’t planning on this.  I wasn’t planning on a Dan.  Oh well, the power of Absurdism can handle anything thrown in its path.  He can’t get in, anyway – not when we’re in Frangypt with no key.  And he’s going to go blind – not from the myth about masturbation, but rather because later I shall gouge out his eyes for stealing my chalkboard.  Will someone get this bloody thing off the stage?!

(SHE kicks the chalkboard in frustration and pushes it violently off stage)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

Now, where was I?  It...er...Bertrande, confess to God and tell the truth!  No, that isn’t the right play.  Where am I?  Where was I?  Oh, this is going to have a dreadful result, I just know it...

 

(SHE wanders vaguely back into the spot she was previously in, within the scene; however, she is facing the wrong direction...

 

The scene resumes, but something is not quite right – the LIGHTS are dim and there is creepy music playing, like an old horror movie soundtrack)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

What on earth...?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Morbid)

And that is why, even today, we still see the blood on the poodle skirts!

 

(MISS BLABLE shrieks, as if she had just finished listening to her own ghost story...

 

There is a KNOCK at the door – heavy and pendulous – NICHOLE looks bewildered while the OTHERS turn towards the door and speak in creepy unison...)

 

     ALL (except NICHOLE)

Come play with us...Come play with us, Danny...forever and ever and ever...

 

                                NICHOLE

Bollocks!  I knew something like this would happen!

 

(NICHOLE snaps her fingers and the scene freezes again...

 

SHE seems a bit nervous and disoriented)

 

What the devil...?  Please excuse that.  You see, I believe the presence of this new character trying to get through Absurdist time-space into Miss Blable’s now-self-existential living room has created a sort of...glitch...I must focus to maintain control.  The realm of the Absurd must be kept closely guarded, or who knows what could happen?  Shall we try once more?  Hmm...perhaps if I...yes, the other way.  There, this should go more smoothly.

 

(The scene resumes again; everything is as it was before the “glitch”; there is a perfectly ordinary KNOCK at the door—

 

Absolute Hell breaks loose)

 

     SHANNON

Help us!  Help us!

 

                                HEATHER

Someone is here!  Someone is here!

 

(EVERYONE starts yelling at once; the following lines happen simultaneously)

 

     SHANNON

Help us, whoever you are!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What is someone doing at the door, out in Frangypt?

 

                                HEATHER

They’re going to let us out!  Let us out, you sick son of a bitch!  You’re not letting us out fast enough!  I’ll kill you if you don’t let us out!

 

                                JILL

What?  Where?  Oh God!  I have to scream, I’m going to scream, AHHHHHHHHH!!!  What’s going on?!

 

                                ERIC

Who—wha—door?!  I can’t think.  Stop yelling.  NO ONE YELL!

 

                                NICHOLE

(To audience)

Yes, this is much better...

 

                                SHANNON

(Pounding on the door)

Let me out!  Let me out!

 

(DAN is outside the door, pounding back at her)

 

     DAN

Let me in!  Let me in!

 

                                SHANNON

Let me out!!

 

                                DAN

Let me in!!

                                JILL

Oh, it’s hopeless!  We’re never getting out!  Like Eric said – Hairbrush!  Nothing but hairbruuuuuush!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Jillblable, there’s nothing to fear...except monsters.  They’re going to get you.

 

                                ERIC

Hell!  I said Hell!  I’ve got Hell!  Lots of Hell!

 

                                HEATHER

Open the door!!  Open!  The!  Door!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Maybe it’s your ambulance.

 

                                HEATHER

It’s no ambulance, it’s the hand of God!  Let us out, God!  I’ll kick your ass, God!

 

                                JILL

Auuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!

 

                                ERIC

(Sing)

Hell!  Hell, Hell!  Hell, Hell, Hell, Hell, Hell, Hell!

 

                                SHANNON

Let me out!

 

                                DAN

Let me in!

 

                                SHANNON

Fuck you!

 

(By this point, everything is in total chaos; NICHOLE has lost interest in the scene and is attempting to seduce the plant; finally, MISS BLABLE raises her voice, quieting the others and stopping the madness)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Everyone!  Everyone!  Calm down!  Calm down!  It’s all right.  For goodness’ sake, I’ll just use the spare key.

 

(SHE pulls a spare skeleton key out from her pocket and begins to unlock the door with it; the OTHERS stare at her in stunned mortification; even NICHOLE is shocked and concerned;

 

MISS BLABLE opens the door; outside stands DAN PETERSON, a salesman; HE is carrying a couple of large cases with him)

 

     NICHOLE

Impossible...how did he...?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Yes?  What can I do for you?

 

                                NICHOLE

No, you mustn’t let him—

 

                                DAN

What’s going on in here?  I heard screaming.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, that was merely a joke.  I have some friends who are in an acting troupe.  Please, come in.

 

                                DAN

Okay.

 

(DAN enters; ERIC, JILL, SHANNON and HEATHER all release a mixture of tense screams and frustrated noises)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Oh, you know these actor types – that’s just how they say hello.  Anyway, you know too much now – you’ll have to stay.

 

(SHE quickly locks the door and puts the key down the front of her dress)

 

     DAN

Wait a minute, what’s going on?

 

                                SHANNON

Spare key?!  You...you had a spare key this whole time, and...but you...you bitch from hell...Why...?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

It doesn’t matter, Shannblable.  You’re not leaving until you meet “Them”.

 

                                HEATHER

(Pointing to NICHOLE)

I was under the assumption that she was “Them”.

 

                                NICHOLE

I am not “Them”.  You cannot even begin to comprehend “Them”.

 

                                ERIC

But why...why are you keeping us here to meet “Them”?

 

                                DAN

Um...This doesn’t look like a good time...

 

(DAN turns to leave, but MISS BLABLE grabs him by the throat)

 

     DAN (continued)

All right.  I’ll stay.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

You fools...This little man right here has more of “Them” inside him than you’ll ever hope to know.  I can feel the “Them” within him, wanting to be free!  Wanting to get out and shout at the world, “I’m here, world!  Look at me!”

 

                                DAN

Hi.  My name is Dan Peterson—

(HE extends his hand in a handshake; MISS BLABLE violently swats it away)

--on behalf of Conformist Fashions, Inc., of Pairo, Frangypt.  And I’m here to see if you’d be interested in our fabulous lineup of women’s lingerie.

 

(HE opens one of his cases, which is full of lingerie for sale)

 

     NICHOLE

Ooh!  Lingerie!  How lovely!  Let me see.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Lingerie?  This was what...?  Yes, I suppose.  Do you have anything in a soft puce?

 

                                NICHOLE

I want something in a deep blood red.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Holding up a black negligee)

Or black!  Yes, this works nicely.

 

                                DAN

Ah yes, one of our finest!  This sleek, sexy negligee is sure to spice up any relationship—

 

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Wait, wait, wait...I’m not certain.  Try it on, first.

 

                                DAN

I beg your pardon?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, I want to see what it looks like before I make any decisions.  So go ahead.  Try it on.

 

                                NICHOLE

Yes, go on.

 

                                DAN

You’d like to try it on?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

No.  I’d like for you to try it on.

 

                                DAN

But how...?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Was I mumbling?  I said, try it on.

 

                                DAN

Um...okay...

(Takes off his shoes)

Although, I don’t really think this is supposed to be part of my job description.

 

                                NICHOLE

Quit stalling.

 

(DAN begins half-heartedly putting the negligee on over his clothes)

 

     DAN

As I was saying, this sleek, sexy—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Stop!  Stop!  What are you doing?

 

                                DAN

I thought you said you wanted me to—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Yes, but you’re putting it on over your clothing.  I want to see what it really looks like.

 

                                DAN

Woah, woah, forget it!  I am not putting—

                                NICHOLE

What did you say your name was, sir?

 

                                DAN

My name is Dan Peterson – but you cannot report me for something like this – you cannot request—

 

                                NICHOLE

Never mind that!  Mr. Peterson, I have a question for you: Are you fond of emptiness?

 

                                DAN

Huh?

 

                                NICHOLE

Emptiness: Are you fond of it?

 

                                ERIC

Just say yes.

 

                                NICHOLE

Do not give him any help!  I must know his true feelings.

 

                                DAN

Emptiness?

 

                                NICHOLE

Indeed, emptiness!

 

                                DAN

There is no such thing as emptiness.

 

                                NICHOLE

I beg your pardon?!

 

                                DAN

I do not believe in emptiness.

 

(Pause)

 

     NICHOLE

Say that one more time.

 

                                DAN

I’m taking these classes, on perspective.  It’s Frangyptian Philosophy.  And they’ve really helped me through some tough times.  These perspective things really brighten my days.  For instance: there is no emptiness.  You see – everything is somewhat full, on a universal scale.  There is plenty of space, true...but that’s something too – see, space gives us room...room for dreams...for hope...for growth and change.

 

(NICHOLE is completely discombobulated by this speech)

 

     HEATHER

                           (Sarcastic)

Oh, like far out, man...

 

                                SHANNON

Oh, shut up.

 

                                HEATHER

Shut up?  You shut up!

 

                                SHANNON

No, I’ll shut up!

 

                                HEATHER

No, I’ll shut up!  So there!

 

(HEATHER shuts up)

 

     NICHOLE

But...no empti...Just who do you think...?  I’ve had enough of this nonsense.  He must be destroyed!

 

                                JILL

No!  No violence!  Bad touch, bad touch!

 

                                NICHOLE

We cannot let this Frangyptian nonsense in here!  I try not to be a racist, but you must believe me – the Frangyptians are all alike!  They’re all preposterous, smelly, philosophizing turds!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Under her breath)

The cat...the cat...the fussy, canine cat...

 

(There is BARKING, off stage)

 

Oh, stupid Kitty!  Nicholble, now just calm down.  I’ll handle the likes of him.  If you don’t like Frangyptians, why don’t you go check on Kitty for me.  Relax in the kitchen.  Have some tea and cake.  Yes?

 

                                NICHOLE

(Fierce)

Kitty!  Oh Kitty!

                           (Exits)

 

 

 

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Now see here, Danblable!  Do you want me to buy this negligee?  I could just hand you over to Nicholble, but that would benefit neither of us.  But if you want to prove to me that you’re worth the time and effort I took to get you here, then you’ve got to put your all into it.  You’ve got to be willing to take risks that other people won’t take.  That’s how you get ahead.  That’s also how you start rumors about yourself, but it’s how business works.  You should know these things.  Be daring.  I want a show.  I want to be moved.  I want some tea.  I’m going to have some tea.  I’ll be right back.  I’ll give you some time to make up your mind...your mind...your un-repressive mind...

 

(LIGHTS flicker; only DAN looks mildly startled by this; and an odd wave of feeling comes over him...

 

The LIGHTS change and the other characters momentarily become shadows in the background whispering mysteriously to DAN...)

 

     HEATHER

Crashboomlightninglightning...

 

                                SHANNON

It was a dark and stormy knight in shining armor...

 

                                ERIC

Only a pile of dirty clothes, my boy...

 

                                JILL

Il est mort...

 

                                HEATHER

Thunderlightningcrash...

 

                                ERIC

Dirty, dirty boy...

 

(LIGHTS restore; DAN comes out of his trance, as if some fleeting memory has just escaped him)

 

     DAN

What the...?  Look, if you aren’t going to buy anything, I really have to go.  Perhaps I could give you my card.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Patience!  The good things come to those who cross-dress.

 

 

                                DAN

What’s your name?  I can have someone contact you, maybe schedule a better time...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I am the one and only Miss Blable.  Blable is French, you know.  It comes from the name of my ancestors – Semblable – which is French for “similar”.  But we later shortened it to Blable.  It was simpler, and yet not simpler.

 

                                DAN

How’s that?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, since “Semblable” means “similar,” I think you can figure out the rest.

 

                                DAN

Oh?  Oh, I see. Well, that is strange.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Tell me about it.

 

                                ERIC

You see?  What do you see?

 

(NICHOLE enters)

 

     NICHOLE

Miss Blable, would you mind helping me out?  It’s come back again.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh dear, I thought I’d killed it.  I’ll be right back.

 

(MISS BLABLE picks up a chair, like a weapon; SHE exits with NICHOLE)

 

     ERIC

I don’t understand.  What do you see?

 

                                DAN

Oh.  Her name – it means “ilar”.

 

                                ERIC

Iller?

 

                                DAN

Yeah.

 

                                ERIC

As in, “more sick?”

 

                                DAN

Well, yes and no.

 

                                SHANNON

Ilar...”  Wow, that reminds me of home.

 

                                ERIC

What the hell?  How does that remind you of home?

 

                                SHANNON

Well, my Uncle Vanya used to have this cherry orchard, where I used to catch seagulls with my three sisters.  And we used to make up words.  And when Aunt Abby died from wine poisoning, I remember her telling me not to be afraid – that it was like when we used to make up words.  Words like “Yesn’t” and “entrousing”...it just reminds me of those... “ilar...”  You know...in a way, maybe this isn’t Frangypt at all.  Maybe this is Home.  Maybe Anfisa and brother Teddy are still here.  This...this is what Heaven is like, I’m sure of it.  It’s like...making up words.  I knew it.  I knew someday I’d come Home.

 

(SHANNON has gotten very emotional by this point; the OTHERS are staring at her as if the world were suddenly made entirely of Alan Alda)

 

     ERIC

What the fuck are you talking about?

 

                                SHANNON

(Losing it)

Oh God, I have no idea!  Oh God, help me!

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, now calm down.  This isn’t good.  You’re usually the stable one.  You can’t go crazy now, too.

 

                                ERIC

Look, let’s just...everybody calm down.  I’ve got plenty of penis to go around.  Woah, I um...I totally didn’t mean to say that.  Well, actually, I did.  But not out loud.

 

                                JILL

I wanna wowwipop.

 

                                DAN

This is, uh, getting kind of weird.

 

(We hear NICHOLE and MISS BLABLE arguing, off stage)

 

 

 

     NICHOLE

(Off)

No!  No, you mustn’t!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

                           (Off)

This is my play, and I’ll do as I please.

 

                                NICHOLE

                           (Off)

The Frangyptians cannot be trusted—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

                           (Off)

SEM-BLA-BLE!

 

(The LIGHTS flicker a bit, and there is a sound like a meteor crashing in the far-off distance; only DAN seems to notice this – the OTHERS are lost in “Ilar”)

 

     DAN

What was that?  Did you guys hear that noise?

 

                                SHANNON

We hear a lot of things.

 

                                JILL

You know, what the hell is your problem?  What were you thinking, coming here?  You should have stayed in Frangypt.  Now, there will be even more ambulances, which is just fantastic.

 

                                DAN

Are you guys really an acting troupe?

 

                                ERIC

What do you think?

 

                                DAN

Not sure.

 

                                ERIC

Well, that’s something we’ll have to remedy, isn’t it?

 

                                HEATHER

We drink tea and cake.  We drink it all.  With the lemons and the hippedy hop.

 

                                SHANNON

The we...the we...the cosmographic we...

 

 

(LIGHTS flicker; SHANNON looks pleased as punch; OTHERS group closer and stare at DAN)

 

     ERIC

Do you think he’s safe?  Will it be okay, with him here?

 

                                JILL

Let’s find out.

(Picking up her cracker that was left on the coffee table)

Would you like a cracker, nice salesman person?

 

                                DAN

Um...Hi, the name’s Dan Peterson.  Nice to meet you all!

 

                                HEATHER

He’s wearing a business suit.  That seems okay.  Then again, so does cyanide.

 

                                SHANNON

Well, we’d like to welcome you, Mr. Peterson.  And I feel it my duty to be the first, as I was the first here, and I will be the first to marry you.  Metaphorically speaking, of course...

(Shakes his hand)

Nice to meet you.  I’m Salvation Army, with Shannblable Smithnuggets.

 

(SHANNON looks shocked)

 

     DAN

I’m sorry...Shann-wha...?

 

                                SHANNON

Did I...?  No...Oh, please tell me I didn’t...please, no...

 

                                HEATHER

Oh God!

 

                                JILL

Let me try.

 

(JILL shakes DAN’S hand)

 

     DAN

I’m Dan.

 

                                JILL

I’m Jillblable McBoobs, oh NO!!!

 

 

 

 

                                SHANNON

(To HEATHER)

Quick!  Say your name.

 

                                HEATHER

Heathblerble Shit-for-Brains...

 

                                JILL

No!

 

                                DAN

What?  Are these your...characters in one of your plays, or something?

 

                                SHANNON

(To ERIC and DAN)

Shut up and introduce yourselves!

 

                                ERIC

Ericble Omni-boner.

 

                                DAN

I’m Danblable.

 

(THEY all stare at him in horror)

 

     ERIC

It’s affecting him already!

 

                                SHANNON

She was right.  He is one of “Them”.

 

                                JILL

I told you!  We’re stuck here forever, and we’ll all go crazy and end up like her.  And this guy has brought more bad luck.  He’s one of “Them” and he’s only pretending to be normal.

 

                                HEATHER

Heathblerble...Heathblerble...Why can’t I say my name?

 

                                ERIC

Oh my Godble!

 

                                DAN

Look, I probably just said “Danblable” because everyone else was saying their names that way, and I just reacted the same because you’re all confusing me.

 

                                HEATHER

We are not confusing!  We are normal, pleasant human beings!

 

 

 

                                SHANNON

I...this can’t be happening...I’m not a Smithnuggets, I’m a representative of Salvation Blable.  I collect naughty sex toys to give to poor orphans and elderly widows who are in need.  I’m a good person.  A good person, not a crazy person!  I rob from the bitch and give to the floor.  Like that one guy...Blablin Hood!

 

                                HEATHER

And I think my husband’s a raging homo!

 

(EVERYONE looks at HEATHER)

 

Well, he is!

 

(MISS BLABLE voice chimes in from off stage)

 

     MISS BLABLE

(Off)

Oh, Danblaaaaaableeee...

 

                                DAN

Yes?

 

(MISS BLABLE enters, carrying a whip and handcuffs)

 

     MISS BLABLE

We’re ready for the fashion show.

(Cracks whip)

 

(NICHOLE enters; SHE carries an odd, vacant smile on her face; somehow seeming pacified, almost in a trance)

 

     NICHOLE

Oh, how extraordinary!  I simply cannot contain myself.  To think, a fashion show!  I haven’t seen anything like this in...Well, I’ve never seen anything like this.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Never?

 

                                NICHOLE

No!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

No?

 

                                NICHOLE

Never!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, you have no idea what you’ve been missing, dear.  And now, you will.  And you’ll hate yourself for missing it.  And you’ll die.  But it’s all in good fun...good fun...good voyeuristic fun...

 

(LIGHTS flicker and TECHNO MUSIC plays briefly; NICHOLE nods slowly and smiles vacantly; the other LADIES all seem to be contemplating this idea; MISS BLABLE studies DAN for a moment)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Yes, this will go quite nicely.

 

                                DAN

I am not putting on any negligee.  This is not a fashion show.  I’m sorry.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Girls, what do you think?  Is red his color?

 

                                ERIC

As if they’re going to listen to you!

 

                                HEATHER

No, not red.  Try something in a softer light blue, maybe.  Something lacey...not too frilly, though...

 

                                JILL

I was just going to say that.

 

                                SHANNON

What size do you think he takes?

 

                                HEATHER

Why not try a size four – see how he likes it!

 

                                JILL

Let’s start with a size eight and work our way down...see how tight we can get it.

 

                                ERIC

(Horrified)

What are you all doing?!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Excellent!  Who would like to help me pick out the fashion lineup, then?

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, I would love to, Miss Blable.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh Heathblerble, how wonderful of you to volunteer!  I knew you’d come around.  I never lost faith.  I would be honored to have your assistance.

 

                                HEATHER

(Touched)

You would?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Of course!  Anyone else?

 

                                JILL

Count me in.

 

                                SHANNON

Well, I got nothing better to do.

 

                                NICHOLE

Ooh!  Shall we all giggle like silly schoolgirls?

 

(All the LADIES giggle like silly schoolgirls and grab cases of lingerie; they exit, leaving ERIC and DAN alone, in shock; the two of them sit and stare at one another for a moment...

 

LIGHTS change and the scene freezes...

 

NICHOLE enters with a handful of lingerie, still looking detached and pacified)

 

     NICHOLE

Yes...I’m feeling...extraordinary.  You see?  Look at this adorable situation we’ve got here.  C’est adorable!  We are currently choosing what Mr. Peterson shall wear.  Just look at what all we’ve got here.  I know you all don’t speak Frengyptian, so I’ll translate these items into Semblable:

(Holding up various pieces)

Le fromage.  Le W.C.  La douche.  C’est un chat noir.  C’est une grande poupée.  Et les poupéesthat is correct – semblables.

(Sets down the lingerie and stares off blankly into space as she continues)

All of these have meaning.  Miss Blable has shown me this.  I have stared into the semblable.  I have seen the meaning.  These are all symbols of nonsense, and in nonsense is strength.  And in strength is...emptiness.  And in emptiness is even more meaning.  Just like that.  Everything goes in an endless loop, until we all perish and die.  That’s what life is all about, truly – pointless meaning.  Yes, indeedy-my-dilly-do.

 

 

                                NICHOLE (continued)

(Suddenly full of violent rage, and a touch of fear)

No emptiness?!  Ridiculous!  Poppycock!  How dare he?  How!  Dare!  He!  No emptiness!  I’ll give him emptiness!  I’ll give him lingerie!  Give him semblable!  Where did this lingerie come from?  I must fight back!  I must fight her!  And him!  I will not be treated like this!  I’m tired of being the most intelligent person in existence!  I want everything to come to nothing!  I want chaos!

 

(NICHOLE snaps her fingers – TECHNO MUSIC plays...

 

MISS BLABLE, SHANNON, HEATHER and JILL all enter and surround ERIC and DAN; they begin performing a bizarre and ritualistic dance;  NICHOLE begins instantly mirthful and happily attempts to translate the dance, whatever that means...

 

By the end of the dance, ERIC and DAN have been stripped down to t-shirts and boxer shorts; the WOMEN applaud; they collect the stripped clothing and exit, one by one, as they say the following...)

 

     MISS BLABLE

My...

 

                                SHANNON

Semblable...

 

                                HEATHER

Is...

 

                                JILL

My...

 

                                NICHOLE

Mirror!

 

(The other LADIES have exited; NICHOLE remains on stage with ERIC and DAN)

 

     ERIC & DAN

Nous sommes semblables.

 

                                NICHOLE

Yes!  Yes!  Ils sont semblables, avec les verges!  Both males!  And, all Absurdism needs a good sprinkling of homoerotic undertones.

 

(ERIC and DAN make out briefly)

     NICHOLE (continued)

Now, this is outside the action, but I have introduced the concept, and there shall be hidden tension.  Sexual tension!  This should stir things up a bit.  Got your attention now, haven’t I?  Ha!  HA!  And triple ha!  All right, I’m going now.

 

(NICHOLE exits; the LIGHTS restore and the scene resumes...

 

ERIC and DAN, still sitting on the couch, slowly become aware of the fact that they are in their boxer shorts and t-shirts)

 

     ERIC

Wait...where...did our clothes...go?

 

                                DAN

They...I...

 

(Silence)

 

So...

 

                                ERIC

Yeah.  What’s up?

 

                                DAN

Not much...not much...

 

(THEY both make a mad dash for the front door, desperately attempting to open it)

 

     ERIC

Help!

 

                                DAN

Someone let us out!

 

                                ERIC

Hairbrush!  Hairbrush!  Hairbrush!

 

                                DAN

Get away from me, don’t touch me, you prevent, you took my clothes—

 

                                ERIC

I didn’t take your clothes, you took my clothes, where are my clothes, what the hairbrush is going—

 

                                DAN

You all lured me here for this, didn’t you?  You’re all a bunch of sexual predators, aren’t you?  Someone let me out!  Is anyone out there?

                                ERIC

Oh God, I...not this, I...

 

                                DAN

Who do I have to fuck in the ass to get out of this house?

 

                                ERIC

Look, we’ve got to think and – wait, what did you just say?

 

                                DAN

I said I want out of this house.

 

                                ERIC

Oh.  That was it?

 

                                DAN

Yes, that’s all, you pervert!

 

                                ERIC

Look, I am not a sexual predator.  I’m a hairbrush.

 

                                DAN

You’re a what?

 

                                ERIC

I don’t know!

 

                                DAN

Fine, whatever!  Here, help me handjob the door.

 

                                ERIC

You’re right – wait, help you do what?

 

                                DAN

Break down the door!

 

                                ERIC

Wait a...no, no...it’s starting to make sense.  Or rather, it’s starting to make enough nonsense to make sense.  We can’t get out that way.  We can’t.  Something’s happening, something’s happening, I’m taking a survey on hairbrushes and...

 

                                DAN

Here, if I put my foot down...No...No good.  Maybe if I...Uh...Here, I need you to stand in front of me.

 

(DAN shoves ERIC towards the door; he puts ERIC’S hand on the doorknob and stands behind him with his own hands around ERIC and on the doorknob in such a way that looks oddly suggestive)

 

     ERIC

Huh?  What are we doing?

 

                                DAN

This is going to take the two of us.

 

                                ERIC

I’ve never done this before.  Please be gentle.

 

                                DAN

We’re trying to open the door.

 

                                ERIC

Okay.

 

                                DAN

Okay...Does that feel good?

 

                                ERIC

What?!

 

                                DAN

(Laughs, a bit forced)

Sorry, sorry!  Just joking!  Calm down...

(Freaking out)

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God...

 

                                ERIC

I’m scared.

 

                                DAN

Shut up.

 

                                ERIC

You shut up.

 

                                DAN

You!

 

                                ERIC

YOU!  FUCK!

 

(Pause)

 

     DAN

Okay, let’s try to twist and pull together.  Maybe we can break the lock.

 

(Unseen by them, the LADIES all enter from the kitchen; they are silent and stop dead at the sight of the two men, one wrapped around the other, hands in front of themselves, hidden from view; the LADIES stare, with various reactions)

 

     DAN (continued)

Ready?  One, two, three!

 

(ERIC and DAN try pulling and twisting the doorknob, making loud straining grunts)

 

And again...One, two, three!

 

                                ERIC

Ow, ow, ow, stop, that hurt...

 

                                DAN

Shut up and take it like a man!

 

                                ERIC

This is tiring me out.  And I think I’ve hurt my hand.

 

                                DAN

Just once more.  I think I almost got there.  I felt something.  Almost there.  Here.  Put your hand here.  Now, tight grip...Ready?  Now!

 

(THEY try again; they topple over, with ERIC on top of DAN)

 

     DAN (continued)

Damn it...

 

                                ERIC

This would look really bad, if anyone were watching.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Looks good to me!

 

(ERIC and DAN shriek and frantically scramble up)

 

     HEATHER

Oh my!

 

                                SHANNON

You know, I had a hunch...I always do, when it comes to this.

 

                                JILL

What’s this all about?  God, why can’t I just find a normal guy?  I swear, I have the Dark Gift.  Every guy I screw ends up in bed with a door-to-door salesman!  I don’t understand it.

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

So, was it as good for you as it was for us?

 

                                ERIC

This is not what it looks like.

 

                                DAN

Yeah!  We were wrestling?

 

                                ERIC

Wrestling?

 

                                DAN

Well, can you think of something better to say?

 

                                ERIC

Yes.  We were trying to escape.

 

                                DAN

Don’t tell her that!

 

                                ERIC

Does it matter?!

 

                                SHANNON

Seriously, with all your bickering, you sound just like a married couple.

 

                                HEATHER

Is that legal in this state yet?

 

                                ERIC & DAN

Shut up!

 

                                JILL

Oh, come on!  What do you expect us to believe?  I’m no idiot, you know – Why are you both in your underwear?

 

                                ERIC

Uh...we’re not...sure.

 

                                DAN

Really!  We have no idea where our clothes went.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, however it happened, it was a very thoughtful gesture.  This makes things so much easier for us, in preparation for the fashion show.  And we have our lineup all picked out...Heathblerble, if you would...

 

(HEATHER displays several pieces of lingerie, negligees, underwear, etc.)

                                DAN

I am not wearing those things.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Don’t get yourself into a fit just yet.  I didn’t say you were.

 

                                ERIC

What?  No, no, no!  He’s the salesman!  He should try them on.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, we haven’t decided yet.

 

                                ERIC

Decided?  On what?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Decided on who will model those...Shannblable...

 

(SHANNON displays several articles of skimpy men’s clothing: jockey shorts, mesh-cloth muscle shirts, vinyl pants...)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

...and who will be showing off our lineup of fabulous menswear!

 

                                DAN

Where did you get those other clothes?

 

(The LADIES begin to close in around ERIC and DAN)

 

     SHANNON

That’s our little secret.  Now come on, boys...don’t be shy!

 

                                HEATHER

Wouldn’t you like to slip into something a little more comfortable?

 

                                DAN

We are not doing this.  Forget it.  It’s disgusting.  It’s degrading, making us put on skimpy outfits and displaying us like pieces of meat!

 

(The LADIES all exchange looks, rather irritated by this remark)

 

     JILL

You’re right.  It is degrading.  Three cheers for degradation!

 

                                DAN

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t exactly fair...But listen – Couldn’t we discuss this, or—?

 

(NICHOLE gooses DAN)

     DAN (continued)

Aha!  Hey!

 

                                NICHOLE

One moment, love!

(Gooses ERIC)

Yes, I think this one should wear the pants.

 

                                DAN

I feel violated.

 

                                NICHOLE

Splendid!  Now, get changed!

 

                                ERIC

No one is putting on anything.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh yes you are.  Grab them!

 

(MISS BLABLE and SHANNON grab hold of ERIC and drag him off into the kitchen; HEATHER and JILL start attacking DAN, but he fights back; NICHOLE does a running tackle of him, dazing him; she drags him off into the kitchen, as he wails helplessly; all exit...

 

The LIGHTS dim; a FIGURE enters, looking around furtively; the FIGURE is disguised in shades and a trenchcoat and seems to be searching for something;

 

MISS BLABLE enters, spotting the FIGURE)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Who are you?

 

                                FIGURE

I’m...uh, I was never here.  I’m a figment of Absurdism.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

We’re outside the scene now, that’s bullshit.  Who are...?  Hey!  Are you...?

 

                                FIGURE

Wh...the writer?  No, I’m not a writer.  Why do you think I’m the writer?

 

 

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

The writer!  You have to tell me how to use the salesman!  I can only control her for so long.

 

                                THE WRITER

No!  I can’t, I...

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Don’t you dare go out that

 

                                THE WRITER

I can’t!  I don’t even know why I wrote this play, in the first place.

 

(THE WRITER flees; MISS BLABLE runs out after him)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Get back here, you sick son of a bitch!!!

 

 

-END OF ACT II-


ACT III

 

The same as before; an indeterminate amount of time has passed...NICHOLE enters, still pacified.

 

 

NICHOLE

And now, a word from our sponsors from Conformist Fashions, Inc., of Pairo, Frangypt...

 

(NICHOLE exits; HEATHER enters)

 

     HEATHER

Is your husband a raging homo?  Tired of finding stacks of nude male magazines in the SUV?  Fed up with all those dildos stashed under the mattress?  Well, Conformist Fashions has expanded its market into pharmaceuticals and has created the perfect medication, just for you – Semblablecil!  Yes, just take two tablets of Semblablecil, and watch as your entire world gets turned upside down.  Go crazy and let loose, as Semblablecil releases concentrated Absurdo-thymadine into your nervous system, erasing all traces of normal life and taking you into such nightmarish circumstances that you’ll completely forget that your prom-date hubby loves to polish knobs.  Semblablecil!  For when you just can’t take all the freaking lies anymore!

 

(LIGHTS change back to the way they were before the end of Act II; we hear SHANNON’S VOICE, off stage)

 

     SHANNON’S VOICE

And that’s a wrap!

 

(SHANNON enters, wearing a beret)

 

     HEATHER

Did I do okay?

 

                                SHANNON

Oh, you did marvelous, darling!  You were divine!  Oh, look at you, our little starlet.  Dreams do come true, darling.

 

                                HEATHER

Oh, I want to thank you for this opportunity, Ms. Smithnuggets.  You have no idea how much it means to me.

 

                                SHANNON

I think I have.  Jillblable, how did that look?

 

(JILL enters, carrying a clipboard, wearing a tight t-shirt, her hair in pigtails)

 

     JILL

Oh my God!  Like...totally awesembable, you guys!  Like, woah!

 

                                SHANNON

Fabu!  That’s fabu!  I need a rest.  Has anyone fed the cat its tea and cake yet?

 

                                JILL

I’ll get right on that, Director.

 

                                SHANNON

Please, call me Shannblable.  I don’t like formalities.

 

                                JILL

Like, my boobs totally don’t know what that word means...

 

(JILL exits)

 

                                HEATHER

You know – Shannblable – this has all been so wonderful.  It makes me think that I can achieve almost anything.  Some day, it’s my hope that my husband chokes while giving a blowjob.

 

                                SHANNON

We all have our dreams, Heathblerble.  One day at a time, love...one day at a time.

 

                                HEATHER

How is the fashion show coming along?

 

                                SHANNON

Swimmingly, my pretty little chicken, just swimmingly!  That reminds me, I should go check if we’re on schedule.  I need to steal some more donations, anyhow.  I’ve already stored those chairs and that fabu vanity and armoire in the secret passage.  Now, if I can just find some silverware...Keep studying those lines!  I’ll be right back.

 

(JILL enters)

 

     JILL

I gave Mr. Pussy some nice cream to go with the tea and cake.

 

                                SHANNON

Oh, that’s my girl!

 

(SHANNON exits)

 

     JILL

It’s totally time for a cracker break.

 

(JILL sits and picks up the cracker she left on the coffee table long ago; SHE begins to eat it)

 

     HEATHER

Who’d have thought life could be so wonderful, here amid the banks of the Seine and the Nile?  I’m having the time of my life.  And I cannot wait for this show.  It’s kind of kinky, you know?  We’ve certainly turned the tables on that salesman.  The cross-dressing!  And the humiliation!  Just like I want to do to Charlie!  Ha-haaa!  I love it!  Besides, it’s exactly what he deserves.  Everyone hates salesmen.  I’d say we’re acting for the good of society.  It’s sort of a women’s social!  I’m going to sit back and relax and enjoy.

 

(HEATHER takes one of the oily rags from the coffee table and drapes it over her face, like a hot washcloth, lounging back)

 

     JILL

(Happily munching)

Mm...it’s like...life is a...a semblable...old chums, or something...

 

                                HEATHER

How’s the cracker?

 

                                JILL

What cracker?

 

                                HEATHER

Aren’t you having a cracker break?

 

                                JILL

Oh.  So I am.

 

(JILL stops munching and looks confused)

 

     HEATHER

What is it?

 

                                JILL

Where did this cracker come from?

 

                                HEATHER

Well, wasn’t it there when you...?  When we...?

 

(THEY suddenly both become aware of what they’re doing, their sanity returning all at once – JILL spits out the cracker and HEATHER tosses the oily rag from her face in disgust)

 

 

     HEATHER (continued)

Oh my God!

 

                                JILL

What are we doing?  How long have we been like this?

 

                                HEATHER

I have no idea!  Eugh!  This is just...We got lost somewhere...It’s like before, in the kitchen!  Every time!  When did we start enjoying ourselves?  I can’t be enjoying myself.  I hate her.  I can’t stand her.  She...

 

                                JILL

But it felt so much easier just to give in.

 

                                HEATHER

Yes.  It felt better, somehow.  But...it’s sick and wrong!  This...this is wrong!  What am I doing?

 

(SHANNON enters, triumphantly)

 

     SHANNON

Well, my fabu dearies, it is nearly time.  Miss Blable is preparing them.  I would advise you to take your seats now.

(Producing some silverware and a fine wine goblet)

And just look what I was “donated”!  Took it straight from her kitchen, while she was distracted.  I’m adding these fine little gems to my collection.  Vengeance is mine!

 

                                JILL

No!  Shannblableer, Shannon – you’ve got to snap out of it.

 

                                SHANNON

What are you talking about, darling?

 

                                JILL

Oh, it all happened so...You!  Just look at you.  You were an honest woman.  You collected things for those in need.  Now, look – you’re a petty thief, stealing things from under peoples’ noses.  You’re just – doing whatever you feel like doing.  All of us have been, but we need to come to our senses.  We need to stop, before we all go mad.

 

                                HEATHER

Yes, we should be ashamed of ourselves.

 

                                SHANNON

I...I don’t understand...No, I don’t want to hear this!

 

                                JILL

Remember?  Try to remember.  You’re Shannon Smith with Salvation Army.

 

                                SHANNON

No!  No, I’m not!  I’m Shannblable Smithnuggets, the greatest Director and Neo-Blablin-Hood of all time!  I don’t want to hear this.

 

JILL

Hold her down!

 

                                SHANNON

No!  Rapists!

 

(HEATHER pins SHANNON to the floor)

 

     HEATHER

Ms. Smith, listen to us.  Pull yourself together.  We need you here.  You were our rock, baby, you were our rock.  Come back to us.

 

                                JILL

Think!  Think!  She what she gave to you...

 

                                SHANNON

She gave me nothing!  I am a self-made woman!  I am independent and...and I...

 

                                HEATHER

Think of the stick.

 

                                SHANNON

There is no stick.  There never was any stick.  There...oh God...stick...?  Stick!  Oily rags!  And...a goddamn bag of glass!?  She gives me a goddamned bag of broken glass????

 

                                HEATHER

She’s coming back to us.

 

                                JILL

Oh, Shannon!

 

                                SHANNON

                           (Standing)

Where is she?!  Do you know how much of my time she has wasted?  What year is it?

 

                                JILL

We have no idea.  Ever since that salesman arrived, I’ve completely lost track of everything.  And has anyone noticed that things have gotten weirder since he came?  It’s like we’re stuck in...even her landlady, something’s odd about her.

 

                                HEATHER

This is a change?

 

 

                                JILL

No, I mean she hasn’t been as crazy, which is weird.

 

(NICHOLE enters, apparently sleepwalking)

 

     SHANNON

Here she comes now.  What’s she doing?

 

                                HEATHER

Is she sleep-walking?

 

                                NICHOLE

Yet here’s a spot...out, damn spot!  Out, I say!

 

                                HEATHER

Isn’t that a line from a Shakespeare thing-a-ma-do, or something?

 

                                SHANNON

A play.  Yes, it’s a famous quote from a Shakespeare play.

 

                                NICHOLE

Oh, not all the perfumes in Frangyptia will ever clean this poor, little hand.  GO TO BED!!!

 

                                SHANNON

That’s weird.  Those lines...I think that’s Lady Macbeth.  There’s this scene, where she’s sleepwalking because she’s feeling guilty over something she’s done.

 

                                HEATHER

Do you think this means something?

 

                                SHANNON

Not really, no.

 

                                NICHOLE

To bed!  To bed!  A knocking!  Here’s a knocking, indeed!  But no one hears.  Yes, no one hears me.  It’s so bloody frustrating, and I never understand what is going on in these plays.  I want to be one of the elite, one of the intellectuals...Oh, how I try!  They’re all irritated by nonsense and by blables, I am irritated by this bloody, wretched spot on my soul!  Oh...Absurdism is murky.  Frustration!  FRUSTRATIOOOOON!

(She has a quick fit; she switches personality to the Southern Belle again, like she did in Act I)

Oh my, what a lovely little spot.

 

                                HEATHER

Great, not this again!  This is pointless.

 

 

                                NICHOLE

(Aware of the others)

Oh!  Listen!  Listen to me, all of you!  You have to get out of here.  Get out while you still can.  I tried.  I tried, but I’ve created a monster.  It’s all spiraling out of control, and whatever story was here before has gotten lost deep in the folds of Absurdist Time.  She’s taken control.  She’s already gotten to me, but you can still escape, if you choose to.  You must stick together.  Fight her!  Fight her with all your wits.

 

                                JILL

What do you mean?

 

                                NICHOLE

You don’t have much time left.  But you can still make it.

 

                                SHANNON

But who are you?

 

                                NICHOLE

I was a French teacher down at the local high-school, just a few blocks from here.  Go there!  Go anywhere!  Tell someone!  Tell the world that the Semblables are coming!  The Semblables are coming!  These two worlds should never, never be mixed.

 

                                HEATHER

What did she do to you?  How do we get out?  Please tell us.

 

(NICHOLE has another fit – her two personalities struggle with one another)

 

     NICHOLE

(British)

You be quiet!

(Southern)

Oh no...no, it’s starting to...

                           (British)

Silence!

                           (Southern)

Leave me in peace!

                           (British)

Get back in there, and stay there!

                           (Southern)

Oh no!  Please, go away!

                           (British)

GET—

                           (Southern)

HELP ME!

                           (British)

BACK IN, THIS INSTANT!

                           (Southern)

Similar!

                                NICHOLE (continued)

                           (British)

Semblable!

                           (Southern)

SIMILAR!

                           (British)

SEM-BLA-BLE!  What the devil?  Where am I?  Where have I been?  Wait...it was her!  Well, I’ll show her!

 

(MISS BLABLE enters, carrying her whip)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Everyone, may I have your attention please?

 

(SHE cracks the whip; LIGHT and SOUND cues begin, like a fashion runway show)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

Presenting, live from Miss Blable’s living room, the Annual Blable Fashion Awards, starring Ericble and Danblable!  Get out here!

 

(SHE cracks the whip into the kitchen;

ERIC enters, dressed in an all-leather consisting of cap, vest and pants and spikes around his wrists and neck)

 

     ERIC

Ow!  Okay, okay!  Well, whatever!  This isn’t too bad, really.  You should see Dan.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What kind of fashion show is that?  Shake your groove thing for us.  Work that stuff.

 

                                ERIC

I don’t dance.

(MISS BLABLE cracks the whip at him)

Fine, fine!

 

(ERIC unenthusiastically shakes his groove thing; MISS BLABLE cheers and applauds)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Next, we have our fabulous lineup of women’s lingerie.

(Whips)

Danblable!  Your turn!

 

                                DAN

(Off)

I said no.

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Get out here now.

 

                                DAN

(Off)

I absolutely will not.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Kitty, sic him!  Kill!  Kill!

 

(We hear massive BARKING, off stage, and some crashing around, mixed with DAN yelping;

 

DAN runs on stage; he is dressed in that same “sleek, sexy” negligee that was picked out earlier; EVERYONE stares)

 

     JILL

Oh...my...God...

 

(MISS BLABLE applauds and cheers)

 

     DAN

Stop it!  Stop staring at me.  All right, all right...I’ve tried this thing on for you, you’ve seen it...Please let me get out of this thing now, and go.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Absolutely!  For the grand finale, Ericble and Danblable will now strip for us.

 

                                ERIC & DAN

What?!

 

                                DAN

I barely have anything to strip out of.

 

                                ERIC

No.  No more.  Where are my real clothes?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Down the garbage disposal!

 

                                ERIC

Look...I don’t know what you want from us.  I’m tired, I’m confused, I’m broken, and I’m hairbrush.  What more do you want?  I feel like I’m losing my mind, and I’m also really hot in these leather pants.

 

                                JILL

I’ll say!

 

                                ERIC

I am not stripping for anyone.  Oh no.  I am stripping for myself.  This stripping is just for me.

 

(ERIC’S mind has snapped and he begins convincing himself to start dancing to the music and doing a striptease)

 

     ERIC (continued)

Yeah, work that thing!  You’re a sexy hairbrush, aren’t you?  I fucking hate it here, but it’s so, so hot.  Work that hairbrush!

 

                                NICHOLE

Extraordinary!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Woohoo!  Shake it, baby!  Shake it!

 

(The other LADIES get caught up in the moment again, cat-calling and cheering; ERIC is lost in the heat of things, enjoying every moment of the attention, completely letting go)

 

     ERIC

Aww yeah, who’s your hairbrush?

 

                                JILL

You are, baby!  You are!

 

                                ERIC

(Spanking himself)

Hairbrush likes it hot!

 

                                DAN

Aww yeah!  Take it off!  Take it all off!

 

(ERIC stops; all stare at DAN)

 

What?  I just got caught up in the moment.  Okay?  I swear, I was just...caught up.  Oh, shut up!  You all put me in women’s underwear!

 

                                ERIC

Oh God...I need to repress this.  Now.  Repress memory now.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, that was fantastic.  You two tried your best.  Now, wasn’t that fun?

 

                                ERIC & DAN

No.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Well, screw both of you sons of bitches!  Fine, then!  I’ll just make some more tea and cake, and if that’s a problem with any of you stupid lumps of shit, you can all go fuck a rabid badger!!

 

(MISS BLABLE exits in a temper)

 

     NICHOLE

Oh now, don’t listen to her.  She’s just upset that this play has no point to it.  Personally, I thought you both put on an extraordinary performance.  Bravo, both of you!  On behalf of the Important People Who Don’t Exist, I would like to offer my congratulations and appreciation in saying: How now, brown cow?  What do you say?  Well, if you can’t think of an answer, then repeat the question to me, and I shall think of one for you.  Go on.  Ask.

 

                                DAN

How now, brown cow?

 

                                NICHOLE

Well now, that’s certainly a thought-provoking question.  I must deliberate on it – because if one hasn’t probably thought out the answer before speaking it, it will likely end up incorrect or simply inadequate.  It makes one seem rather a buffoon – even pretentious!  So, after no deliberation whatsoever, I’d like to give my answer: Moo.

 

                                DAN

Moo?

 

                                NICHOLE

Precisely!  Why not?

 

                                HEATHER

Because...it made no sense.  None of this makes any sense!

 

                                NICHOLE

My dear woman, you continuously point out this fact to us, over and over, and it’s starting to become an absolute bore.

 

                                HEATHER

No!  Enough!  I’ve reached a decision, everyone.  It’s the only way.  Miss Blable must die.  I have to kill her.  I don’t want to end up like...like this.  I’m killing her and getting out of here, before I meet “Them” and it’s too late.

 

(HEATHER exits)

 

                                NICHOLE

Get back here, you!  Blast!  The story cannot take this turn.  I was worried about this.  Well, there’s nothing for it – she must die.  Come back here!

 

(NICHOLE exits)

 

     SHANNON

Um...maybe we should stop anyone from being killed?

 

                                JILL

But what if Heather’s right?  Maybe it is the only way.

 

                                SHANNON

Are you out of your mind?  We can’t kill someone.

 

                                JILL

Do you want to live in a world with men in leather forever?  Wait, never mind.

 

                                SHANNON

We can’t resort to things like this.  Even if we have to embrace insanity, we must preserve the sanctity of life and morality.

 

                                JILL

Oh, fine.  You’re right.  Let’s stop them.

(To DAN and ERIC)

We’ll be right back, boys.  You just, uh...stay right here.

 

                                DAN

We should go in there with you!  We’re men!

 

                                JILL

(Trying not to laugh)

Yeah...just...stay put.  And behave.  No wrestling.

 

(SHANNON and JILL exit)

 

     ERIC

I never wanted it to end up like this...my life...anything.  I could have gone on forever without meeting any of you, and it still would have been too much.  I’m not comfortable here.  I don’t know what’s what, but I just had the best sex of my life, in a rat-infested secret passage.  No.  No more surveys...Screw psychology.  I should study truck driving.

 

(There is shouting and crashing, off stage; MISS BLABLE enters, carrying some articles of men’s clothing)

 

     MISS BLABLE

(To the clothes)

Stay out of this!  This doesn’t concern you!

 

(SHE throws the clothes to the floor and exits)

 

     DAN

Oh, thank goodness!  Clothes!

 

(DAN finds a pair of pants and starts putting them on over the negligee)

 

     ERIC

Shouldn’t you get rid of the negligee first?

 

(Pause)

 

     DAN

Why do you think I should do that?

 

                                ERIC

I’m...just saying...

 

                                DAN

There’s nowhere for me to change in private.

 

                                ERIC

I’m not gonna look!

 

                                DAN

What do you care, anyway?

 

                                ERIC

I was just saying!

 

                                DAN

You like it rough and dirty?

 

                                ERIC

What?!

 

                                DAN

Just joking!  Hahahahaha...

 

                                ERIC

Look, if you’re that freaked out over it, just use the secret passage.

 

                                DAN

How does it open?

 

                                ERIC

I’m not sure.  Look around.  There must be a switch or something.

 

(DAN remains still; the LIGHTS dim slightly, and we hear distant THUNDER, as if DAN were remembering something)

 

 

     ERIC (continued)

What’s wrong?

 

                                DAN

I can’t.

 

                                ERIC

It’s just a wall.  The wall isn’t homosexual.

 

                                DAN

No.  I’m afraid of the dark.

 

                                ERIC

You’re joking.

 

                                DAN

If I go in there, I need you to come with me.

 

                                ERIC

Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

 

                                DAN

Come on!  It’s dark.  You won’t see anything.

 

                                ERIC

What if I accidentally...bump into you?

 

                                DAN

You won’t.  I’ll be holding your hand.

 

                                ERIC

I’m not that kind of girl.

 

                                DAN

I need to know someone is there.  Please!  I can’t be in the dark alone.  I’ve always been terrified of it, ever since I was three years old.  You take psychology, right?

 

                                ERIC

Lord...fine, what happened when you were three?

 

                                DAN

Well...You know, I’ve never told this to anyone before.  You’re the only one.  I know that’s kind of weird.

 

                                ERIC

Given the circumstances, yes, that’s still weird.  And kind of creepy...but continue!

 

                                DAN

When I was three years old, it was dark one night.  Really dark...and I mean really dark!

                                ERIC

Really, really dark?

 

                                DAN

And there was a horrible storm outside, with thunder and lightning.

 

                                ERIC

Oh, so not dark-all-the-time dark.

 

                                DAN

You don’t have to make fun.

 

                                ERIC

I know.

 

                                DAN

Anyway...I woke up, and I smelled something awful.  And then, in a flash of lightning, I looked over near the corner of the room and saw a pile of dirty clothes that looked like a dead body.

 

                                ERIC

Okay...

 

                                DAN

So I ran to tell my dad.  He told me to go back to sleep – that it was just a pile of clothes.

 

                                ERIC

Right...

 

                                DAN

And to calm me down and get me to go to sleep, he came into my room and turned on the lights to show me – and when he turned them on, it really was a dead body.

 

                                ERIC

Right...What?!

 

                                DAN

That’s not the worst part.  The dead body was a man...but he was dressed in a woman’s negligee...much like this one.

 

(ERIC and DAN stare at each other in horror; the secret passage opens up by itself, mysteriously)

 

     ERIC

Let’s just...God...this is...

 

(ERIC leads DAN, by the hand, into the secret passage; it stays ajar behind them...

LIGHTS change and NICHOLE enters, looking very confused and concerned)

 

     NICHOLE

Semblable?  Semblable?  Something isn’t right, here.  There’s something going on.  What’s going on?

(To the audience)

What has happened?  I...can’t remember where the story has been going for the past...I don’t know how long.  She’s done some irreversible damage.  I can feel it.  And just now, I heard a voice saying something about a dead body and...wait...we were waiting to meet “Them” and...Yes, that’s it.  It’s happening.  It is taking place.  But I have no idea what that means.  I got lost in the...

(Very uncertain)

There was...a cat...and a kitchen...and a salesman.  A dream?  The salesman will fulfill the prophecy.  It is done.  We’re done.  No...what?  Where the hell am I?  That’s French for, “Where the hell am I?”  Oh, help...help...

 

(SHE notices the secret passage left ajar and becomes suspicious; she is lost in thought for a moment, then quickly shuts the passage tightly)

 

I do wonder what happens in this passage.  You know, the classics never die.  The Great Bard, Shakespeare, once said in his most famous tragedy of Hamlet, “...his semblable is his mirror...” when he is responding to the fool, Osric, about the character of young, noble Laertes, with whom he is destined to fight and mutually perish.  “His semblable is his mirror...” meaning he has no equal other than himself.  Sadly, this line is omitted from many current versions of the text.  But still...Shall we hold the mirror up and take a look, now?  There are some who debate whether Hamlet was truly insane or just feigning insanity.  Yes...Hamlet...like Shakespeare himself...dying with that line...but the classic itself remains, even though now...

(Screamns in the direction of the passage, in a frightening manner)

Il est mort!!

 

(THUNDER and LIGHTNING; NICHOLE quickly exits;

 

We hear DAN screaming in terror from within the passage;

 

MISS BLABLE comes running on)

 

     MISS BLABLE

What just happened?  What did she do?  Did she do that?  I’m going to kill that stupid bitch!  God, I cannot stand this play!!

 

(MISS BLABLE exits – the THUNDER subsides and the LIGHTS restore to normal, as the scene resumes;

 

JILL enters)

 

     JILL

You guys, come quick, we need your help!  They’re going to tar and feather her!  Hey, where are you?  Hello?

 

                           (SHANNON enters)

 

                                SHANNON

She has Heather by the feet, and she’s violently dragging her around the kitchen, over counters, through tables – Where are they?

 

                                JILL

I don’t know.

 

(ERIC makes a muffled yelp from behind the passage wall and knocks to bet let out)

 

     JILL (continued)

Was that the passage?  Eric?  Mr. Peterson?

(Suspicious)

What are you guys doing in there?

 

                                ERIC

Let me out.

 

                                SHANNON

I think he wants out.

 

                                JILL

Here, help me open it.

 

(SHANNON and JILL both force a cheesy grin and thumbs-up at each other; the passage opens up; ERIC stumbles out of it with DAN, who is now dressed only in pants, clutching the negligee and clinging to ERIC’S leg as ERIC drags him along)

 

     SHANNON

What’s going on?

 

                                ERIC

He’s crazy!  He thinks he’s a dead body.

 

                                DAN

I am a dead body!  Or least, I was.  Once upon a time...

 

(DAN lets go of ERIC’S leg and collapses limply on the floor)

 

     ERIC

He was changing into some pants, when all of a sudden he starts screaming and losing it, saying something about thunder and lightning and the “dead body” coming back to get him.  Then, he grabbed onto me and wouldn’t let go.  And he kept whimpering things like, “I’ll be dead too.  Dead bodies don’t get other dead bodies.”

 

                                DAN

(On the floor)

Je suis mort.

 

                                JILL

Why were you in the secret passage with him, in the first place?

 

                                ERIC

He’s afraid of the dark.

 

                                SHANNON

Hey, could I have that negligee for donations?

 

                                DAN

Take it.

 

(HE tosses the negligee to SHANNON and collapses again, crying pathetically)

 

     JILL

Great, now you’ve hurt his feelings.  Are you all right, Mr. Peterson?  Would you like me to call you Dan?

 

                                DAN

My mother used to call me Dannyboy.

 

                                JILL

Oh, come here, Dannyboy, it’s okay...

 

(DAN gets up and tightly embraces ERIC)

 

     ERIC

Hey!  What the—?

 

                                DAN

                           (Blubbering)

I’m so sorry, Daddy.

 

                                ERIC

I am not your daddy.  Look, would you let go?  Fine, fine, one hug!

 

 

                           (ERIC pats DAN on the back)

 

                                ERIC (continued)

Okay, now you can let go...now go...go...

 

                                SHANNON

It’s sweet to see two men bonding and displaying emotions and friendship for one another.

 

                                ERIC

What friendship?  I barely know him.

 

                                DAN

But we’ve been through so much together.  In this place...I feel like I’ve known you forever...like I can tell you anything.

 

                                ERIC

Great, here we go...

 

                                DAN

And I just know that deep down inside, you feel the same.  I’ve never had a friend like you...One that will still like me and go into dark passages with me, holding my hand, even if I am wearing women’s lingerie.

 

                                ERIC

And there’s the buzzer.  Time’s up!  You’ve had your hug, let go.

 

(DAN lets go of him)

 

     DAN

Thank you.

 

                                JILL

That’s better.

 

                                SHANNON

That was touching, you guys.

 

                                ERIC

No, it was stupid.

 

                                SHANNON

Why are men afraid of showing that they love one another?

 

                                ERIC

I don’t know any of you people.

 

(Screaming, off stage...the kitchen door bursts open and a frying pan comes flying on stage)

 

     SHANNON

Heather!  I forgot all about her.

 

                                ERIC

What’s going on?

 

                                SHANNON

We have to help her.  She went in there to finally confront Miss Blable.  She said she was going to kill her – but Miss Blable just went berserk!  If we don’t stop them, they might kill Heather.  Lord only knows what they’re doing to her now.

 

                                JILL

Yes.  You have to save her.

 

                                ERIC

What?  Me?

 

                                JILL

Yes.  We need your help.

 

                                DAN

No!  Stay here with me, please.  I’m scared.

 

                                ERIC

I...I can’t go in there...

 

                                JILL

What?

 

                                ERIC

Once was enough...look what happened to me, then!

 

                                JILL

So, you’re just all talk, then?  Can’t take the heat, you pansy?  You just talk big to get laid, huh?

 

                                ERIC

Hey!  Screw you!  I’m not the one who wanted to go to Bone Me Hard 101!

 

                                JILL

Yeah, I practically had to drag your ass in there!  You can’t even be a man and sweep a girl off her feet.

 

                                ERIC

I didn’t need to, you were chomping at the bit for it, you nymphomaniac!

 

                                JILL

Oh, fuck you.

 

                                ERIC

Yeah, you know you want it.

 

                                JILL

You’re an asshole.

 

                                ERIC

Well, you’re a slut.

 

                                SHANNON

That’s enough.  Both of you, enough.  I’ll do it.

 

                                JILL

What?  But you—

 

                                SHANNON

(Melodramatic)

No!  I must.  I started all of this.  I was the first to come here.  I set the ball in motion, and now it’s time for me to end it.  I have to go...to save Heathblerble.  Just...whenever you see a dusty oriental rug in a trailer park, or find a pair of used-but-useable pants, threadbare with love and human kindness...remember me.  Remember Shannblable Smith of Salvation Army.  Goodbye, my children.

 

                                OTEHRS

Goodbye, Shannblable.

 

(SHANNON turns to exit to the kitchen...

 

Before she can get two steps, there is a deafening EXPLOSION NOISE, off stage.  SMOKE blows through the kitchen door onto stage; JILL faints; the OTHERS are stunned)

 

     SHANNON

What was that?!?!

 

(NICHOLE stumbles in, covered in soot, coughing up a storm)

 

     NICHOLE

Damn and blast that microwave oven!  Stupid appliances!  Nothing ever works around here.  Now, I’ll have to buy a whole new outfit.  Bollocky nuisance!  I despise machines!

 

                                ERIC

What happened?

 

                                NICHOLE

I don’t remember.  Explosion must have jogged my head a bit...

 

 

(HEATHER enters, also covered in soot; she walks very slowly, in a calm, catatonic state)

 

     HEATHER

(Flat)

Hello, all.  I’m going to sit here now.

 

                                SHANNON

Oh my God!  Are you okay?

 

                                HEATHER

What?  Oh yeah, I’m fine.  I love explosions.

 

(LIGHTS change, and the scene freezes for a moment)

 

     NICHOLE

(Dazed, to the audience)

I feel like poo.

 

(MISS BLABLE enters, carrying her hand mirror – she sees NICHOLE, still in one piece, much to her dismay)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Shit...

 

                                NICHOLE

Poo has meaning.

 

(Scene resumes...

 

MISS BLABLE fixes her hair while looking into her hand mirror)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Oh dear!  It appears I’ll have to buy a new microwave oven.  It didn’t seem to agree with the tea and cake.  You see, it had gone cold, so I used our best teacups – the ones with the silver lining – and I put the cake on my aluminum tray with the teacups, wrapped the whole thing up in tin foil, cursed my birth, and pushed the “start” button.  I couldn’t find my favorite stirring spoons, though.  Oh, here they are.  How did they get out here?

 

                                SHANNON

Oh...the silverware, I...

 

 

 

 

 

                                NICHOLE

Miss Blable, could we please let’s forget about the tea and cake for now?  We’re all covered in soot and radiation.  Tea would be inappropriate.  Let’s just relax...perhaps have a nice conversation...Shall we discuss decapitation?

 

(ERIC tries to wake JILL, who is still passed out)

 

     ERIC

Jill.  Hey, Jill!  Wake up.

 

                                JILL

                           (Coming to)

What...?  What’s happening?  I heard something about decapitation, don’t let them decapitate me!  I love my head!  Hold me!

 

                                DAN

Hey, back off!  He’s mine!

 

                                ERIC

Um...

 

                                JILL

Oh yeah?  You wanna make something of it?

 

                                DAN

Try me!

 

                                JILL

Fine, then!

(Slaps DAN’S face)

Bitch!

 

                                DAN

                           (Slaps JILL’S face)

Little slut!

 

(JILL becomes enraged and charges DAN; they get into a catfight; we hear BARKING, off stage)

 

     JILL

Gutless, blubbering, door-to-door, cross-dressing man-stealer!!

 

                                DAN

Ow, let go of my hair!  Isn’t it time for your shift at the corner?

 

                                JILL

Bastard!!

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Concerned, looking off)

Has anyone else noticed that my cat sounds like a dog?  Am I the only one who finds that weird?

 

(ERIC, SHANNON and HEATHER break apart JILL and DAN)

 

     HEATHER

Stop it!  Stop it!  Don’t turn on each other like this.  We should listen to what her landlady said earlier, before she went back to being nuts.  We have to stick together, or we’ll never get out of here.

 

                                ERIC

She’s right, you guys.  We have to stop acting like her.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(Proudly, into the mirror)

Oh!  Like me!  I’ve finally reached someone.  My dear old granddad, Margaret Semblable, would be so proud.  Thanks, Granddad Maggie!  He used to let me call him Maggie.

 

(Scene freezes)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

What the hell is that supposed to mean?  Who is writing these lines?!  I’ve had enough!  The salesman thing hasn’t worked yet – in fact, everything seems to be stuck now, only getting worse!  Where did the writer go?  He can’t hide from me much longer!  I swear!

 

(The LIGHTS begin to restore, much to her dismay)

 

No!  No, don’t go again yet, I...

 

(Scene resumes...she refuses to return to being “in character”)

 

     JILL

Wait...semblable...

 

                                NICHOLE

Yes.  Similar.

 

                                JILL

Semblable...!

 

                                NICHOLE

Similar!

 

 

                                JILL

Oh my God!  Semblable!  We’re becoming like her!  Similar to her, more and more!  It’s similar!  We’re semblable!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

                           (Looking off stage)

What?  What is this shit?

 

                                SHANNON

It’s the Curse of Semblable!

 

                                HEATHER

Holy Blable, you’re right!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Who the fuck is writing this dialogue?!

 

                                ERIC

It’s her name.  Her name is broken...we have to...restore the Sem to the Blable before the spell is complete and we all go semblable for all eternity!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What?  A spell?

 

                                DAN

You’re right!  She’s cursed us!  We have to restore the Semblable.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I don’t understand reality.  I hate this.  This is idiotic.

 

                                SHANNON

Oh no!  The next part of the spell is inside her pocket!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What?

(SHE reaches into her pocket and finds a piece of paper, which she reads...)

“As Miss Blable says the following lines, the mood becomes dark and the lights dim...”

(SHE crumples up the paper – the LIGHTS start to dim)

Where did this note come from?

(LIGHTS and SOUND become disturbing)

This play has no consistency whatsoever!

 

                                NICHOLE

(Commanding)

SEM-BLA-BLE!

 

 

 

(Scene freezes again...

 

NICHOLE and MISS BLABLE have both had enough; they confront one another)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

You have caused enough damage.  You are ruining the meaning.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What meaning?  This play is a pile of garbage.  These characters make no sense.

 

                                NICHOLE

What would someone like you know about it?  Mon Dieu!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

What would I know about it?!  It’s my story!!

 

                                NICHOLE

It is not your story!  It is art, and art belongs only to its semblable.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

And what does French have to do with anything?  Let alone Frangypt?

 

                                NICHOLE

You are missing the point – it’s Absurdism!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

This isn’t Absurdism – I don’t know what this is!  Where’s the writer?  I demand to see him.  I want to see the script.

 

                                NICHOLE

You don’t understand!  The writer tried fixing it!  He tried!  Again and again!  But nothing works, so we don’t need any script!

 

(NICHOLE pulls a large script out of her enormous purse; she holds it up threatening and looks out at the audience)

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

Draw your own conclusions!

 

(NICHOLE tears the script to pieces and tosses it away...

 

The LIGHTS and SOUND begin to go haywire – from this point on in the scene, everything feels cartoon-like and nightmarish)

 

 

 

     NICHOLE (continued)

Lights!  Sound!  Pain!  Stupidity!  I’m a donkey, and we need ten thousand mangos to drive Miss Daisy!

 

(The scene resumes...

 

As the action progresses, random, weird things begin to occur on stage:

 

The kitchen door opens and shuts by itself; gigantic toast pops out of the cushions of the couch; the plant floats in the air; words like “Godot”, “hased brown potatoes” and “Bobby Watson” appear on the walls; some of the wall clears away and we see the Eiffel Tower and the Pyramids; it begins to snow in the living room)

 

     MISS BLABLE

(Fiendish)

Ahahahahahaha!  You are all such trusting, pathetic fools.  But it’s too late for you now.  You’ll never escape with your precious “Realism”.  Surrender now to the House of Blable, and perhaps I’ll let you keep your dignity.

 

                                DAN

Dignity?  I’ll take mine with two lumps.

 

                                ERIC

I’m so not gay.

 

                                DAN

I love boobs.

 

(ERIC and DAN make out)

 

     NICHOLE

Miss Blable, please, no more games!  I’m bored, and I have several concussions.  Just ask the Bald Soprano.

 

                                HEATHER

Is that the one that lives with Bobby Watson’s cousin, Bobby Watson?

 

                                SHANNON

No.  He’s still waiting for Godot.

 

                                JILL

I bought me a chamber pot.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Silence!  All of you!

 

(MISS BLABLE picks up the stick as a weapon)

 

     ERIC

Look out!  She’s got a stick!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I want each and every one of you to bow.

 

                                JILL

Did you say, “Where is the cow?”

 

                                MISS BLABLE

No, I didn’t say, “Where is the cow?”  I said, “Gimme, gimme Elvis!  Gimme, gimme sex, sex!”

 

                                HEATHER

Ohhh, I scroodir crashtablizzits...

 

                                SHANNON

I hate quantum physics...

 

(ALL oblige MISS BLABLE and bow before her – except for NICHOLE)

 

     MISS BLABLE

You too, Nicholble!

 

                                NICHOLE

I shall never bow to the likes of you.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

You won’t?

 

                                NICHOLE

No!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Bow now, brown cow!

 

                                NICHOLE

Never!  Enough is enough!  First, you’re late on your rent.  Then, you insult me by using the Forbidden Word.  Then, you blow up my kitchen.  And now, you’re holding hostages on my property.  You’re evicted!  Get out!  Out, I say!  Oh my, I’m marvelously happy.

 

(NICHOLE sits down, contented)

 

 

 

 

 

     MISS BLABLE

Ahahahahaha!  Nothing can stop me now.  So, it comes to this: I shall finally complete my task...my task...my out-of-nowhere task!  You all are about to change forever.  My world has brought out parts of you which you never even knew were there.  But they were!  Deep inside the darkest parts of your souls, each and every one of you is an Absurdist Theatre character.  See it for yourselves – Behold!

(SHE thrusts the hand mirror before their faces)

You are in an Absurdist play.  There is no turning back, now.  Succumb to it.  Repeat after me.  My semblable is my mirror.  My semblable is my mirror.

 

                                OTHERS (except NICHOLE)

                           (Trying to fight it)

My semblable is my mirror...my semblable is my mirror...my semblable is my mirror...

 

(MISS BLABLE turns to each of them, driving them further into the trance)

 

     MISS BLABLE

My semblable is my mirror...

(To SHANNON)

Sticks and rags and broken glass...

Stick donations up your ass!

Your semblable is to steal.

Your donations are your mirror.

 

                                SHANNON

My semblable is my mirror.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

                           (To HEATHER)

Got your plant and gotcha good,

Like a friendly neighbor should!

Your semblable is a fake.

 

                                HEATHER

My semblable hates your guts!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

                           (To JILL)

You’re not innocent, just lost!

Now “the cow” has gotcha sauced!

No more ambulance for you.

Your semblable likes to screw.

 

                                JILL

Moooooooooooonthssss!!!

 

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(To ERIC)

You’re an asshole.  And you’re named after the writer, who is also an asshole.  All Erics are assholes.

 

                                ERIC

I’m taking a semblable for my psych class.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

(To DAN)

And, last but not least, Danblable...

 

(The moment DAN looks into the mirror, the LIGHTS and SOUND change with a snap – the scene freezes – NICHOLE and DAN quickly step outside the action; DAN watches NICHOLE, as she quickly rattles off the following, like a stream-of-consciousness connection...)

 

     NICHOLE

Danblable, semblable, to die, mourir, il est mort, he is dead, he is empty, emptiness, are you fond, are you dead, are you mort, it is clothes, it is dead, clothes are dead, death is clothes, death is similar, la morte est semblable, hats are clothes, les chapeaus semblables, les negligees semblables, no body, no death, pas de morte, JE NE MOURIRAIR JAMAIS ENCORE, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS EMPTIENSS!  ROOM FOR DREAMS, POUR REVES, FOR HOPE, FOR GROWTH AND CHANGE, IL N’Y A PAS D’EMPTINESS, ALL CONNECTED, ALL SEMBLABLES!

 

(THUNDER and LIGHTNING; DAN quietly mutters to himself while the others softly continue chanting “My semblables is my mirror” in the background)

 

     DAN

Daddy?  I’m...I’m in Frangypt, Daddy, selling women’s clothes – lingerie.  And I’m wearing lingerie, Daddy.  And I’m not dead.  And I’m not afraid.  I’m not afraid anymore.  I know you’d be proud of me.  I love you, Daddy!  I’ll make you proud!  No...no...

 

(The LIGHTS restore as DAN comes back into the scene; MISS BLABLE is still trying to entrance him like the others, but he snaps out of it and leaps at her)

 

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!

 

(DAN shoves MISS BLABLE away; he grabs the oily rags and tosses them in MISS BLABLE’S face; she struggles dramatically with them; DAN grabs the hand mirror from her and smashes it)

 

     MISS BLABLE

No!  Not my semblable!  Danblable, you have just sealed your fate.

 

(SHE runs at DAN with the stick; they struggle)

 

     SHANNON

Someone stop them!

 

                                ERIC

Don’t let him get hurt!

 

                                NICHOLE

(Muttering to herself)

I am happy.  Birds are happy.  This is silly.  Birds are silly.  Birds use guns.  Guns are for silliness.  Happy guns.

(She pulls a revolver out of her enormous purse and fires it at the ceiling; all stop and look at her)

Miss Blable, no more!  This cannot go on.  Let him go.  I said let him go.

 

(MISS BLABLE drops the stick...

 

DAN rushes to ERIC, who embraces him fiercely)

 

     ERIC

Don’t you ever, ever scare me like that again!

 

                                DAN

I’m sorry!  I love you.

 

                                ERIC

I love you too, Dannyboy.

 

(In the embrace, DAN manages to move his hand onto ERIC’S ass)

 

     DAN

There’s nothing to be scared of now.

 

                                ERIC

Oh, thank goodness...What are you doing?

 

                                DAN

Nothing to be scared of...

 

(NICHOLE fires her gun again)

     NICHOLE

Silence, everyone!  Miss Blable, I want you out of my house.  Leave now, or forever perish by my hand.  What shall it be?  Eviction?  Or destruction?

 

(Long pause...MISS BLABLE seems to be deciding something, as she studies them all)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Yes.  You’re right.

(SHE takes the spare key from her pocket and unlocks the front door, leaving it open; she hands the key to ERIC)

Here is the key.  You’re all free to go.  I’m tired of fighting it.  I’m tired of the way my story has gone.  All of you can just leave.  I wanted everyone to stay and meet “Them,” but I guess that won’t be happening.

 

(A HUGE LIGHT comes in from the kitchen door, from the window, from all around...almost as if there were enormous UFOs outside, or the gates of a new dimension had opened up...strange, UNEARTHLY NOISES...)

 

     NICHOLE

What the deuce?!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Ah!  Ironic timing!  Of course!  I suppose something ironic was bound to happen, somewhere around the climax.  But I don’t give a damn, anymore.  None of you are worthy to meet “Them”.  This is my story.  And none of you are welcome in it, any longer.  I am taking my leave of you.

 

(There is much BARKING, off stage; the BARKING slowly turns into MEOWING, which in turn transforms into a voice repeating, “I am a cat...I am a cat...” which slowly becomes “Je suis un chat...je suis un chat...”)

 

     MISS BLABLE (continued)

That’s right, Kitty!  Follow “Them”!  Well, so long and good riddance.  I just hope that you’ll remember what I tried to teach you all...you all...you failed as one and all.  And now...Lights!  Sound!  Pain!  Stupidity!  Je ne mourirai jamais!  Jamais!  Au revoir!

 

(The secret passage opens up, glowing like the Next World – MISS BLABLE exits into it, slowly, like a dream, engulfed in weird, Poltergeistian light...

 

Once she is gone, THE WRITER enters)

 

     THE WRITER

You guys!  Listen to me.

 

                                SHANNON

Who are you?

 

                                THE WRITER

I’m the writer of this play.  I started writing this damn thing nine years ago, but it didn’t turn out right.  I created a horrible, horrible loop, and I’ve never been able to figure a way out of it – it just keeps getting re-written and re-written and nothing ever finishes.  But listen – you have to help me find it – I lost it somewhere in this house, long ago, and it’s the only thing that will save us—

 

(We hear MISS BLABLE’S voice from all around)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Aha!!!  I’ve got you now, you son of a bitch!

 

                                THE WRITER

What?  Miss Blable?  No, you have to return to Absurdism, I can’t have you here while I’m here – the two worlds have to remain separate for the Plot-Character Continuum to stay stable!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh no, you don’t...You’re not getting away this time!

 

                                THE WRITER

Wait...Where are you?

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I’m in the lighting and sound booth!  And now – you’re mine!

 

                                THE WRITER

What the...?!  No!  Don’t!!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

I wonder what this button does...

 

(The LIGHTS and SOUND begin to do various cues that effect the WRITER and only him – a spotlight shines on him...he changes from red to blue...he tries speaking, but only a BARKING noise comes out...he starts moving uncontrollably, as if the lights and sound and MISS BLABLE’S new power over the play were puppeteering his every move...)

 

     NICHOLE

No, you cannot!  You mustn’t!  Miss Blable, no!

 

                                MISS BLABLE

And now, for the coups de grace!

 

(A large voice says “SEM-BLA-BLE!” and we hear the familiar sound of a meteor crashing; when it clears, THE WRITER has gone insane)

 

     THE WRITER

Aha!  Ha!

 

                                JILL

Are you okay...?

 

                                THE WRITER

Wah!  AAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhh, heheheeheheeee!  Oh...look...it’s “Them!”  They’re finally here.  It’s finally come!  Oh, at last!

(He sees the bag of broken glass on the coffee table)

Wait a minute...is that...?  It is!  My semblable!  I’ve been looking all over for this.

(Picks up the bag of glass)

Oh no, they’re about to leave.  I have to go, now.  Wait!  Wait for me!

 

(THE WRITER runs off, towards the alien light in the secret passage; NICHOLE looks out at the audience)

 

     NICHOLE

And now, I shall have a climactic fit.

(Flailing about)

AAAUUUGHHH!  SEMBLABLE, SEMBLABLE, SIMILAR!  SEMBLABLE IS SIMILAR!  NOTHING IS SIMILAR!  EMPTINESS IS SIMILAR!  MON SEMBLABLE EST MON MIRROIR, AAAUUUUUGHHHH!!!

 

(NICHOLE collapses on the floor, unconscious...

 

Instantly, the LIGHTS and SOUND return to normal; all the weird occurrences on stage cease, and everything feels ordinary again...

 

A very long silence...)

 

     HEATHER

What the hell just happened?!?!

 

(Another silence)

 

     SHANNON

Well, uh...I’ve got some other appointments to meet.

 

                                ERIC

Yeah, I got more...survey-taking...

 

                                JILL

I’m...I’m sure I’ll find Vine Street.  It’s all coming back to me now, from the last time I was here, for scholarships.

 

                                DAN

Wait!  What’s wrong with all of you?  Doesn’t anyone want to know what just happened?

 

                                HEATHER

What happened?  What are you talking about?  Nothing happened.

 

                                DAN

Excuse me!  The weird light and the—

 

                                HEATHER

Nothing happened.

 

                                SHANNON

Yes, we should just...forget everything.  This entire day, just forget it...

 

                                HEATHER

I’ve overstayed my visit, and I’ve got all that unpacking to do.

 

                                DAN

(Pointing to NICHOLE)

But what about her?

 

                                SHANNON

Oh...she’ll be fine.

 

                                ERIC

Yeah, hopefully she’ll just crumble into dust or something when we leave.

 

(NICHOLE begins to stir)

 

     HEATHER

Oh, son of a—!!

 

 

(NICHOLE rises, looking dazed, as if released from some spell; she looks around in surprise and confusion; when she speaks, her British accent and normal edginess is gone – she once again has the Southern Belle voice)

 

     NICHOLE

Oh my!  Now what in sweet Jesus’ name happened here?  Who are you folks?  What ever are you doing on my property?

 

                                HEATHER

We were trapped here by your tenant.

 

                                NICHOLE

What tenant?  I live here all by my lonesome.  And I don’t like nosey people waltzing about.  I want everyone out of here, right now.

 

                                ERIC

She doesn’t remember anything.  Thank God!

 

                                NICHOLE

I’ll thank you ever so kindly not to take the Lord’s name in vain, young...young, young man...Oh my!  My nerves!  I certainly could do with a lemon Coke.  I feel a bit faint, as if I’ve come out of some...

(Relishing the word)

Illusion...Oh dear me, is this my prized silverware?

 

                                SHANNON

Yes, ma’am.  You must have left it there, after you made us that tea and cake.  Remember?  You were going to donate a few things to Salvation Army.

 

                                NICHOLE

And who, may I ask, are you?

 

                                SHANNON

I’m Shannon.  Shannon Smith with Salvation Army!  We spoke on the phone yesterday.

 

                                NICHOLE

Oh yes!  Shannon!  Shannon for star!  Oh, now I remember it all. I do have some donations to give you.  I love to help those in need.  It’s such a mad, mad world...It’s nice to know that people can always depend on the kindness of strangers.  Oh, but where are my manners.  Would anyone like some refreshments?

 

                                OTHERS

No thanks...I’m good...About to leave...etc...

 

 

 

                                NICHOLE

Well, I’m going to have that lemon Coke.  Right this way, dear!

 

(NICHOLE exits to the kitchen)

 

     SHANNON

(To the others)

Shhhh...!

                           (Exits after MISS BLABLE)

 

                                HEATHER

That says it all.  Well, what an interesting experience.  And that’s important, I think.  It’s good to have...experiences and things.  I guess now I have a new new neighbor, which is also important.  It was nice meeting everyone.  I’m taking my plant with me.  Have nice lives, but don’t ever call me.  Right?  Right.  I’m leaving.  Charlie should be done having sex with the delivery men by now.

 

(HEATHER picks up her plant and exits out the front door, in a hurry)

 

     DAN

I don’t understand everybody.  I think this day has been incredible.  I feel so liberated.  What an adventure.  And I made a new best friend!

(Hugs ERIC intimately, whispers to him)

It’s okay.  It’ll be okay.  Call me.  Here’s my card.  Call me.

(Hands ERIC and card; speaks aloud again)

Yeah, can’t wait to go fishing, camping, drinking...all with my new bud!  Well, you kids have fun at the university.  I’m going to make a run to Victoria’s Secret.  Bye-bye!

 

                                JILL

Bye, Mr. Peterson.

 

(DAN winks at ERIC and exits)

 

     JILL (continued)

I don’t always throw myself at guys, you know.

 

                                ERIC

Me neither.  I don’t always throw myself at guys, either.

 

                                JILL

How are you going to tell him that?

 

                                ERIC

I never really intended on...well, calling him.

 

                                JILL

But don’t you care at all?  You might really hurt him.

 

                                ERIC

It’s none of your—!!

(Pause)

Hey, I’m sorry.  I just...I’m not so good—

 

                                JILL

Feelings...

 

                                ERIC

Yeah.  That.  I’m sorry I called you a slut.

 

                                JILL

Eh, I am a slut.  But you’re an asshole.

 

                                ERIC

True.  Maybe I should call him.

 

                                JILL

Maybe..

 

                                ERIC

So...the university...

 

(JILL walks up to ERIC and kisses him;

 

The secret passage opens up; they both turn to look at it)

 

     JILL

Stuck somewhere between apathy and need...

 

(ERIC looks at the key in his hand; he locks the front door; he sets the key down on the coffee table)

 

     ERIC

Mademoiselle?

 

                                JILL

Ooh, vous parlez francais?

 

                                ERIC

I took a course or two.

 

(JILL leads ERIC, by the hand, into the secret passage...

 

It shuts tightly behind them...

 

LIGHTS change and NICHOLE enters, with her chalkboard; she has returned to her narrator role again; she stares at her chalkboard, baffled)

 

     NICHOLE

And that...is the end of our story, I guess.  And I’ve got my British accent back, which doesn’t make sense.  I hope all of you understood this play.  Because I certainly don’t.  What did Miss Blable...?  What exactly did she do to the writer?  Je ne sais pas.

 

(MISS BLABLE enters; she points to the chalkboard and erases all of NICHOLE’S scribblings; she writes one word on it – “Semblable”)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Semblable.  Similar.  Je.  I.  The subjective.  Etre.  To be.  Conjugated, suis.  Je suis Semblable.

 

                                NICHOLE

(More confused)

Oh.  Yes.

 

                                MISS BLABLE

It’s perfectly simple.  Just let it happen.  You don’t need to know everything, you know.

(She waits for it to register with NICHOLE – nothing)

Je suis Semblable!

 

(NICHOLE shrugs, defeated...MISS BLABLE sighs and erases the board; she trudges off to one side of the stage)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Maybe we can still have drinks, later on.

 

(SHANNON, HEATHER, JILL, ERIC and DAN all enter and form a line, in stylized poses, much like the opening of the play; MISS BLABLE and NICHOLE watch them)

 

     SHANNON

The self-justifying thief...

 

                                HEATHER

The false, unstable hypocrite...

 

                                JILL

The sex-crazed nympho...

 

                                ERIC

The gutless asshole...

                                DAN

The insecure little boy...

 

(The five of them pull out individual hand mirror and gaze into them, seeing their new selves for the first time; they stare, each with different reactions – their own conclusions...

 

MISS BLABLE walks over towards the huge electrical switch on the wall which she flipped “on” at the beginning of the play; SHE waits)

 

     NICHOLE

(Slowly realizing)

It will be over when we meet “Them”.

 

(NICHOLE lets out a small gasp, as if an epiphany has come over her)

 

     MISS BLABLE

Too late!

 

                                NICHOLE

No, but now I under—

 

                                MISS BLABLE

Oh, big fuckin’ deal!

 

(MISS BLABLE flips the electrical switch “off”...

 

Blackout)

 

 

-END OF PLAY-

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