Monday, August 29, 2011

Rufus & Penelope


RUFUS
PENELOPE

RUFUS
So I got this boulder in me, it’s squishing all my organs, man. I can’t get rid of it. It’s like pressing against my heart and my urethra and shit. I got to pee all the time, but I can’t. It’s the boulder.

PENELOPE
How’d it get—

RUFUS
I swallowed it in 2006.

PENELOPE
Can you pass it?

RUFUS
Like a kidney stone? Nah.

PENELOPE
Sounds awful.

RUFUS
You like beef jerky?

(She nods. He passes her a piece.)

PENELOPE
Teriyaki?

(He nods.)

PENELOPE
Good stuff.

(He nods.)

PENELOPE
Guess we’re both waiting.

RUFUS
Me? Nah, I’m not waiting. I’m not waiting. I’m working. I’m focusing. I gotta focus. I gotta shrink it. I’m trying to shrink it, trying real hard, every day.

PENELOPE
Oh.

RUFUS
Yeah, it’s serious stress. Serious work.

PENELOPE
Maybe I should try that.

RUFUS
Yeah, I’m just relaxing right now on a break, but when I’m focusing, I can’t have any distractions. Can’t be around people. Won’t work.

(Beat.)

RUFUS
So I gotta head in soon.

(Penelope nods.)

RUFUS
What’s your name?

PENELOPE
Penelope.

RUFUS
Weird. What’s your last name?

PENELOPE
Blender.

RUFUS
Weird too. Bet you’re the only one.

PENELOPE
Yeah, I bet I was. But my roommate stole my identity. So now there are at least two.

RUFUS
Yeah?

PENELOPE
Yeah.

RUFUS
Lame.

PENELOPE
Yeah.

RUFUS
You real mad?

PENELOPE
Yeah.

(Beat.)

RUFUS
Watchyou doing about it?

PENELOPE
Waiting.

RUFUS
For what?

(Penelope shrugs.)

RUFUS
Maybe I should try that.

PENELOPE
I was thinking maybe I should do what you do.

RUFUS
Concentrate? Nah. That’s a different kind of problem.

PENELOPE
Maybe.

(Beat.)

You want some apple?

(Rufus nods. She passes it to him. He takes a bite and passes it back.)

RUFUS
Mind if I stay out here a bit?

PENELOPE
Don’t you have to work on your boulder?

RUFUS
The moon is nice, I guess. I can wait a little.

(They pass the apple in the moonlight.)

Thursday, August 25, 2011

On the Platform


Amiunderground.blogspot.com

SMALLER WOMAN, wearing a striped shirt, stands on a subway platform. Atop a trashcan next to her is a book: MCCALL’S BOOK OF WONDERFUL THINGS. She reaches for it, but at the same time, a homeless man reaches for it.

SMALLER WOMAN
Oh, sorry! You can have it.

The homeless man takes it and leafs through it. The woman watches out of the corner of her eye. He rips out several pages and starts wiping his butt with them.

A voice is heard:

VOICE
Hey stripes! What’s so funny?

She turns. Next to her, there is a larger woman wearing the same shirt.

VOICE
Nice ass, stripes!

The smaller woman checks out the woman next to her and seems to conclude he is speaking to her—not the other woman.

VOICE
I want me some of those titties!

The smaller woman looks down at her (flat) chest then at the larger woman, who is now smiling slightly behind her book.

VOICE
I want to ride those bony thighs, stripes!

Ah, now it’s likely her.

VOICE
I don’t even mind that perm!

WOMAN’S VOICE
SHUT UP, PERV!

A third woman appears, also in stripes. She is small but with large boobs. She has a terrible perm.

The train arrives.



Monday, August 22, 2011

The Rubik's Cube


On a crowded subway car, a little boy sits working diligently on a Rubik’s Cube but making little headway. The sound of the train arriving at a station—the announcement by the automated voice, the doors opening and closing with their standard signal—accompanies the entrance of a young woman who takes a seat across from the boy. With headphones in her ears, she types casually into her phone before removing a Rubik’s Cube from her bag. The boy immediately spots it. For two or so minutes, she rapidly and effortlessly moves the sides of the cube. When she achieves equal colors on all sides, she slips the cube into her bag and rests her head against the window, closing her eyes. She opens them as the train begins to slow, arriving at its next stop. She and the boy make fleeting eye contact. She exits the train. The little boy looks down at his Rubik’s Cube and back at the space the woman just left, now occupied by another rider. He resumes working on his Cube.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Bad Luck Duck


Thosefunnypictures.com


A man is running in cargo shorts. Running is an overstatement. He’s moving at the pace of the average person walking uphill. Heaves. It may be the first time he’s every worked out. It’s at least been a long time. The woman approaches him.

WOMAN
Excuse me—do you know where White Street is?

(He gestures directions as he cannot speak.)

WOMAN
Thank you.

(She begins walking in the direction he’s pointed. They are just a few feet apart when he realizes he’s told her the wrong direction. He stumbles back and taps her. He motions that he was wrong; it’s in the direction he’s going.)

WOMAN
White Street? White Street is?

(He nods and turns to resume his “jog.”)

WOMAN
Thank you.

(She walks at the same speed as he does, now in the same direction.)

WOMAN
Good for you. (Beat.) I don’t mean that as an insult. I mean it’s good you’re getting out and making it happen. Good for you.

MAN
(hardly able to speak but determined)
I haven’t run in five years, okay?

WOMAN
Double good for you! Quin… duple good for you.

(She lights a cigarette, still walking more or less the same speed as him.)

MAN
(waving the smoke away)
Could you—

WOMAN
(switching her cigarette to the other hand)
Sorry. Five years is a long time not to exercise. It’s been a couple of months for me and I thought that was long. I’m not insulting you. I’m saying that’s extra impressive.

MAN
(stops running, flips out)
AHHHH! GAHHH! DAMMIT!

WOMAN
WHAT?

MAN
I want one so BAD.

WOMAN
This? You can’t smoke! You’re running!

(He’s still freaking out.)

WOMAN
Want me to slow down?

MAN
Please!

(They continue like this for a beat or two. Then he stops, runs back, and takes a long drag of her cigarette. He hands it back politely. She humors this and begins walking with him again.)

WOMAN
You want your own?

MAN
No. I quit. A week ago.

WOMAN
Good for you. (Beat.) Sorry. (Beat.) So. What’s with the life changes?

MAN
(breathing more easily since he stopped for a bit, but continuing to jog)
Just time to make some adjustments.

WOMAN
You get fired?

(He shakes his head.)

WOMAN
Break up?

(He doesn’t respond.)

WOMAN
Somebody die?

(He picks up his pace a little.)

WOMAN
You’ll survive. The endorphins are a smart move.

MAN
Stop… (stops) PATRONIZING me! (He hangs his head over his legs.)

WOMAN
Sorry.

MAN
I’m gonna go back that way now.

WOMAN
It’s okay. Look, White Street. I turn here anyway. Sorry

(She waves and turns. He starts walking back in the direction he came from.)

WOMAN
(turning and spotting him)
Where are you going! Finish your run!

MAN
(furious at her)
I jog at the speed of a chick walking to work. I stole a stranger’s cigarette. I STOLE A STRANGER’S CIGARETTE.

WOMAN
It’s okay! You’re getting healthy—you’re okay.

MAN
For shit I am.

WOMAN
I mean, it was a little weird that you grabbed my cigarette. But I asked for it. I guess.

MAN
I’m going home to die.

WOMAN
Woah. Come here.

(He doesn’t move.)

WOMAN
Come here!

(He walks over to her lifelessly.)

WOMAN
Sit. SIT.

(They sit side by side on the sidewalk. He puts his head in his hands. The sound of a large truck going by. A screech and a car horn. She is jarred by this briefly. He doesn’t notice.)

WOMAN
Have you heard about the bad luck duck?

(He shakes his head.)

WOMAN
Once there was a fisherman who went out everyday looking for fish. One day, he spotted a mallard near his boat. That day do you know how many fish he caught? None. He went home empty-handed where his wife scolded him. She was a difficult wife. The next day, he went out and again saw the mallard. Stupid mallard, you’re bad luck, he thought. And guess how many fish he caught that day? None. The third day it happened again. To make matters worse, when he raised his fist to shake it at the mallard, he was in such fury he lost his balance and plunged headfirst into the water! He lost his bait and most of his hooks. Something had to be done. The following morning, the fisherman didn’t bring his bait and tackle to the lake. Instead, he brought a shotgun. He took aim at that mallard and was about to shoot when the duck, sensing danger, flew away. He shot a bullet straight into the air and warned the bird never to return, lest he die for sure! The next morning, he arrived and was pleased to see the duck was nowhere in sight. That day, he caught twenty fish! The following day, he caught thirty! The following day, forty—his record! As he was regaling his fellow fishermen with the tale of the bad luck duck, one said, “You mean that mallard over there?” Floating in the shade was the duck. Oh, I forgot to tell you—the fisherman had bad eyesight so he couldn’t see the duck unless it was near his boat. “That’s been around all season!” his buddies told him. (Beat.) See?

MAN
No.

WOMAN
Cheer up. It’ll make you cheer up.

(Beat.)

MAN
Can I have a cigarette?

WOMAN
That’s the spirit.


Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The Blog is Back on August 22nd!



It got a bike, got a tan, and got a ticket on that bike. Which it is appealing.  

But summer's drawing to a humid close, and it's ready to roll again. See on you this uncomfortable looking raft next week. 

-Mary