An Original Scene By Amy Alls
Lights come up slowly on two people rolling around under a blanket making suggestive noises. Jack and Maggie are in bed, post coital. Scene should go rather quickly between the two characters except as indicated differently.
Maggie-So, are we a couple yet?
Jack (looking confused)-No.
Maggie (looking annoyed)-Fine. (beat) Well, I have a date tonight.
Jack (caught off guard)-A date?
Maggie-Yes.
Jack-With who?
Maggie-A guy.
Jack-What guy?
Maggie-You don’t know him.
Jack-How could I not know him? We know all the same people. We do everything together.
Maggie-Not everything.
Jack-What do you mean?
Maggie-Well, I have a date with a guy you don’t know because we don’t do everything together. (sarcastically) I obviously do things all by myself…that is, if I can handle it.
Jack-Don’t get bitchy with me.
Maggie-Bitchy? You don’t want me to get bitchy with you?
Jack-Maggie, I just asked you a question. You don’t have to make this into a thing.
Maggie-I’m not. You were.
Jack-Jesus, Mag. Just tell me who the guy is.
Maggie-Why do you care? We’re not a couple.
Jack-We’re best friends. You tell me everything.
Maggie-Did I tell you about this?
Jack-Just now you did. Wait. When did this guy ask you on this date?
Maggie-Seriously, Jack. You need to drop this. I need a shower.
Jack-C’mon Maggie. Who is it?
Maggie-Now, I’m really not telling you.
Jack-Fine. You’re lying then. Where are you going on this date?
Maggie (mumbling)-Red Lobster.
Jack (a little envious)-Red Lobster?
Maggie (irritated)-Yes.
Jack-Cheddar biscuits?
Maggie-Yah.
Jack-During the “endless crab” festival?
Maggie-If you can call it a festival.
Jack-Well…that’s nice.
Maggie-Are you done giving me the third degree? I smell like you and mediocre sex.
Jack-Who is it?
Maggie-It’s a guy I met on the internet.
Jack-Oh, that guy.
Maggie-Yeah. What about it?
Jack-Are you going to be okay going by yourself?
Maggie-Yeah, I think I’ll manage.
Jack-Are you sure? Because I could go with you. I wouldn’t mind some of those cheddar—
Maggie-No. Which part of the phrase “I have a date tonight” do I have to define for you?
Jack-But, we do everything together.
Maggie-Not everything. Definitely not everything.
Maggie takes the blanket and wraps it around her half-naked body almost uncovering Jack completely and exits.
Jack-She’ll be back. She’ll bring me leftovers. Cheddar biscuits! SWEET!!
Lights Down
End
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
I'm Your Man
An Original Monologue By: Amy Alls
Lights up on Jason, an attractive, charming, masculine yet sensitive man in his early 20s. Jason pulls up a chair and speaks directly to a woman in the audience.
Jason-Men are scum. I mean, c’mon, I should know, right? Look at me. I’m a 23 year old boy. I still have a copy of my dad’s 1984 Hustler magazine stuffed into a hole in between my mattress and box springs. The hole is covered with duct tape and marked “PRIVATE,” but I’m a single guy and I live alone. Why am I still hiding my porn? I’m an idiot. That’s the only answer I have for you. That is the only verbal solace a man like me can offer you at this difficult time. Men are scum and men are idiots.
See, you are a painfully beautiful woman. You are a woman whose very essence rips rational thought from the minds of mere mortals and leaves them helpless and graveling for attention at your feet. Your name is synonymous with amazing, and if the idiot scumbag who brought tears to your eyes---to those incredible, soulful eyes---were half as worthy of your grace, he would be right here where I am right now, at your feet, begging for your forgiveness. Sound like a line? It probably is one.
Unfortunately, that other guy is an idiot. Unfortunately, he is scum. Truthfully, I’m not at your feet to beg your forgiveness or even worship your existence, but I do have a solution.
I’m your man.
Let’s face it. Emotionally, you’re in no position to be drowning yourself in the pressures of yet another relationship with an equally idiotic and scummy schlub who’ll leave you in the same predicament. Hey, I’m no exception. I’m exactly like Mr. Wrong. In fact, I AM Mr. Wrong. I will never be Mr. Right. But, I can be, and for you I WILL BE, Mr. Right Now. You should take full advantage of me to get back at him. I will willingly take responsibility for the entire male population of the planet and succumb to your desire for well-deserved vengeance. I will fully accept my place as the temporary comfort to your deep emotional pain. I will be the trampoline you need to jump on to your next committed, loving, caring relationship in which you, a phenomenal and wonderful lady, will live happily ever after.
I know what you’re thinking. This is all just some clever ploy to get you into bed. You’re so intuitive. You’re exactly right. I want to explore every inch of your quivering body with the tip of my tongue. I want to bathe your breasts in kisses, lay you down and fuck you until neither of us can walk. I’m a bastard. But, I will gladly be your own personal bastard until you’re done relieving yourself of all of this unnecessary pain.
Sure, you can turn me down now. I’ll just move on to the next teary-eyed Goddess. But, as much of an asshole as you know I am right now, don’t you just want to give me a dose of my own medicine? Don’t you want to show Mr. Wrong just how WRONG he is?
Lights up on Jason, an attractive, charming, masculine yet sensitive man in his early 20s. Jason pulls up a chair and speaks directly to a woman in the audience.
Jason-Men are scum. I mean, c’mon, I should know, right? Look at me. I’m a 23 year old boy. I still have a copy of my dad’s 1984 Hustler magazine stuffed into a hole in between my mattress and box springs. The hole is covered with duct tape and marked “PRIVATE,” but I’m a single guy and I live alone. Why am I still hiding my porn? I’m an idiot. That’s the only answer I have for you. That is the only verbal solace a man like me can offer you at this difficult time. Men are scum and men are idiots.
See, you are a painfully beautiful woman. You are a woman whose very essence rips rational thought from the minds of mere mortals and leaves them helpless and graveling for attention at your feet. Your name is synonymous with amazing, and if the idiot scumbag who brought tears to your eyes---to those incredible, soulful eyes---were half as worthy of your grace, he would be right here where I am right now, at your feet, begging for your forgiveness. Sound like a line? It probably is one.
Unfortunately, that other guy is an idiot. Unfortunately, he is scum. Truthfully, I’m not at your feet to beg your forgiveness or even worship your existence, but I do have a solution.
I’m your man.
Let’s face it. Emotionally, you’re in no position to be drowning yourself in the pressures of yet another relationship with an equally idiotic and scummy schlub who’ll leave you in the same predicament. Hey, I’m no exception. I’m exactly like Mr. Wrong. In fact, I AM Mr. Wrong. I will never be Mr. Right. But, I can be, and for you I WILL BE, Mr. Right Now. You should take full advantage of me to get back at him. I will willingly take responsibility for the entire male population of the planet and succumb to your desire for well-deserved vengeance. I will fully accept my place as the temporary comfort to your deep emotional pain. I will be the trampoline you need to jump on to your next committed, loving, caring relationship in which you, a phenomenal and wonderful lady, will live happily ever after.
I know what you’re thinking. This is all just some clever ploy to get you into bed. You’re so intuitive. You’re exactly right. I want to explore every inch of your quivering body with the tip of my tongue. I want to bathe your breasts in kisses, lay you down and fuck you until neither of us can walk. I’m a bastard. But, I will gladly be your own personal bastard until you’re done relieving yourself of all of this unnecessary pain.
Sure, you can turn me down now. I’ll just move on to the next teary-eyed Goddess. But, as much of an asshole as you know I am right now, don’t you just want to give me a dose of my own medicine? Don’t you want to show Mr. Wrong just how WRONG he is?
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Chick Magnets in "SWEET MANGO EINSTEIN!"
An Original Thing By: Amy Alls
Sam and Ed are in a tree house in the backyard of their Grandmother’s house. They have assembled what looks to be a handmade telescope out of popsicle sticks and a magnifying glass. Ed is on the edge of a branch attempting to adjust the “viewing cube” a certain way while Sam braces the back of the branch to make sure it doesn’t break.
Sam-Is it time yet?
Ed-Almost. I just have to set this up at the right angle.
Sam-Well, hurry up! I can only challenge gravity for so long! Pretty soon, this branch is going to break, and you’ll be as broken as that pile of sticks down there.
Ed-Okay, I can see the horses.
Sam-We’re not looking for the horses. We’re looking for Mrs. Robertson.
Ed-Well, we’re still not facing the right direction, I guess. Maybe I should lean farther to the left.
Sam(whining)-Any farther to the left and you said you saw nothing but hay!
Ed-Okay, Tarzan. If you think this is so easy, then why don’t YOU do it?!! I’ve had enough! I’m getting down. This was your idea, anyway! Climb this thing yourself, King of the Perverts!
Sam-Fine. Hand me the viewing cube. Sweet Mango Einstein, we’ve got—(gulp)
Ed-Can you see her? (off in his own world, Ed begins to make motions with his hands as if he is tracing the figure of Mrs. Robertson) Her long, red, curly hair, her creamy ivory skin, her—
Sam-—Old—
Ed- —Round—
Sam-—Gray—
Ed-—Supple—
Sam-—Balding—
Ed-—Bouncing—
Sam-—Wrinkly—
Ed-—Brea—Huh??!!
Sam-Too far to the right.
Ed-What are you talking about??!
Sam-She’s not sleeping.
Ed-Who’s not sleeping?
Sam-(beat) Grammy?
Ed-Sam, what, in the name of all that is Holy, does THAT have to do with—
Sam-Grandma.
Ed-“Grandma” what??! What about—NO.
Sam-Electric Blue—
Ed-Stop. You’re kidding. That’s not—
Sam-Underwire bra.
Ed-Funny—Sam, give me that.
Sam, stunned, doesn’t hand over the viewing cube. He’s still and staring.
Sam-(gulp) Dr. Mike?
Ed-Dr. Mike mows the lawn every Saturday.
Sam-I don’t think that’s what he’s doing right now. It looks like he’s taking care
of a different…um…lawn today.
Ed-You’re making even less sense now than you were before. I don’t believe you. Give me that!
Ed grabs the viewing cube and pulls Sam off of the branch back into the tree house. Then, he adjusts himself to keep from falling and looks into the viewing cube.
Ed-See? Dr. Mike is just bringing Grammy some some oranges and—EINSTEIN, DARWIN AND NEWTON, WHAT ARE THEY DOING WITH THOSE APPLES??
Sam- —and the kiwi. Did you see the kiwi?
Ed-Now, THAT can NOT be healthy! Who knows what kind of infections you can get from that??!!
Sam-Worms.
Ed-No, worms are the least of their worries.
Sam-Inch worms.
Ed-Inch worms aren’t that kind of—
Sam-NO. LOOK CLOSER.
Ed-OH MY GOD!!! THOSE ARE HIS—AND WHAT IS GRAMMY DOING WITH HER—
Ed looks away from the cube for a moment and covers his mouth as if he’s going to be sick.
Sam-Ssh. What was that?
Ed-What was what?
Sam-I thought I heard something.
Ed-It was probably just one of the horses or something.
Sam-No, it was more like a—a howling.
Ed looks back into the viewing cube.
Ed-Oh. (gulp)
Sam-What now?
Ed-You don’t want to know.
An hour later, the boys are in their Grandmother’s kitchen.
Grammy-Good evening, sugar bears! Dr. Mike brought us a basket of flowers and yummy fruit! Come on and have some!!
Lights Down
The End
"CHICK MAGNETS IN: 'SWEET MANGO EINSTEIN!'" IS COPYWRIGHTED MATERIAL AND MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED OR PERFORMED IN ANY WAY WITHOUT THE EXPRESSED PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
Sam and Ed are in a tree house in the backyard of their Grandmother’s house. They have assembled what looks to be a handmade telescope out of popsicle sticks and a magnifying glass. Ed is on the edge of a branch attempting to adjust the “viewing cube” a certain way while Sam braces the back of the branch to make sure it doesn’t break.
Sam-Is it time yet?
Ed-Almost. I just have to set this up at the right angle.
Sam-Well, hurry up! I can only challenge gravity for so long! Pretty soon, this branch is going to break, and you’ll be as broken as that pile of sticks down there.
Ed-Okay, I can see the horses.
Sam-We’re not looking for the horses. We’re looking for Mrs. Robertson.
Ed-Well, we’re still not facing the right direction, I guess. Maybe I should lean farther to the left.
Sam(whining)-Any farther to the left and you said you saw nothing but hay!
Ed-Okay, Tarzan. If you think this is so easy, then why don’t YOU do it?!! I’ve had enough! I’m getting down. This was your idea, anyway! Climb this thing yourself, King of the Perverts!
Sam-Fine. Hand me the viewing cube. Sweet Mango Einstein, we’ve got—(gulp)
Ed-Can you see her? (off in his own world, Ed begins to make motions with his hands as if he is tracing the figure of Mrs. Robertson) Her long, red, curly hair, her creamy ivory skin, her—
Sam-—Old—
Ed- —Round—
Sam-—Gray—
Ed-—Supple—
Sam-—Balding—
Ed-—Bouncing—
Sam-—Wrinkly—
Ed-—Brea—Huh??!!
Sam-Too far to the right.
Ed-What are you talking about??!
Sam-She’s not sleeping.
Ed-Who’s not sleeping?
Sam-(beat) Grammy?
Ed-Sam, what, in the name of all that is Holy, does THAT have to do with—
Sam-Grandma.
Ed-“Grandma” what??! What about—NO.
Sam-Electric Blue—
Ed-Stop. You’re kidding. That’s not—
Sam-Underwire bra.
Ed-Funny—Sam, give me that.
Sam, stunned, doesn’t hand over the viewing cube. He’s still and staring.
Sam-(gulp) Dr. Mike?
Ed-Dr. Mike mows the lawn every Saturday.
Sam-I don’t think that’s what he’s doing right now. It looks like he’s taking care
of a different…um…lawn today.
Ed-You’re making even less sense now than you were before. I don’t believe you. Give me that!
Ed grabs the viewing cube and pulls Sam off of the branch back into the tree house. Then, he adjusts himself to keep from falling and looks into the viewing cube.
Ed-See? Dr. Mike is just bringing Grammy some some oranges and—EINSTEIN, DARWIN AND NEWTON, WHAT ARE THEY DOING WITH THOSE APPLES??
Sam- —and the kiwi. Did you see the kiwi?
Ed-Now, THAT can NOT be healthy! Who knows what kind of infections you can get from that??!!
Sam-Worms.
Ed-No, worms are the least of their worries.
Sam-Inch worms.
Ed-Inch worms aren’t that kind of—
Sam-NO. LOOK CLOSER.
Ed-OH MY GOD!!! THOSE ARE HIS—AND WHAT IS GRAMMY DOING WITH HER—
Ed looks away from the cube for a moment and covers his mouth as if he’s going to be sick.
Sam-Ssh. What was that?
Ed-What was what?
Sam-I thought I heard something.
Ed-It was probably just one of the horses or something.
Sam-No, it was more like a—a howling.
Ed looks back into the viewing cube.
Ed-Oh. (gulp)
Sam-What now?
Ed-You don’t want to know.
An hour later, the boys are in their Grandmother’s kitchen.
Grammy-Good evening, sugar bears! Dr. Mike brought us a basket of flowers and yummy fruit! Come on and have some!!
Lights Down
The End
"CHICK MAGNETS IN: 'SWEET MANGO EINSTEIN!'" IS COPYWRIGHTED MATERIAL AND MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED OR PERFORMED IN ANY WAY WITHOUT THE EXPRESSED PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.
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