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A short play, © Copyright 2000, Jim Loy
Cast:
(There is one row of seats facing the audience. In the one row of seats sit the "audience," which consists of OM and OW sitting near the center, with Dummies on each side of them. Other rows of the "audience" may be painted behind this one row of seats. There are pauses in the following conversation. OM and OW study various members of the audience)
OM: It's about time. We've been sitting here for a whole hour.
OW: Be quiet, Dear. The play is starting. And we've only been here for 20 minutes.
OM: Well it seemed like an hour. The damned small talk was getting mighty damned small.
OW: Shush! And don't swear in public. I don't know why I bring you to these refined cultural events.
OM: Well pardon the hell out of me. I don't know why I let you drag me to these damned cultural events.
OW: Now Dear, I'm sure the play has started.
OM: Looks like an audience to me. Sure is a lot of 'em. What the hell kind of play is this anyway? They're not doing anything.
OW: Yes they are. Some of them are talking. And see, that lady is picking her nose.
OM: And a damned good job she's doing, too. Now she's stopped. Musta got it all.
OW: Dear, you're ruining the cultural experience of all these other people.
OM: How can I ruin their experience. Look out there. They're not doing anything. They're not real actors, if you ask me.
OW: Well I think they're doing very well, considering the quality of the play.
OM: Who the hell wrote this stupid play. (He pulls out his program and tries reading it) You got a flashlight?
OW: (Searches through her purse) Here you are, Dear.
OM: (Turns on the light and shines it at the program) Some idiot named Loy. Probably a communist.
OW: Now how can you tell that, Dear?
OM: Look at the stupid play. No real human being would write crap like that.
OW: Communists are people too.
OM: Just barely. Maybe he's a chimpanzee instead.
YM: (Enters from the side of the stage and struggles slowly all the way off the stage to the other side, over knees and toes. He may be fairly athletic, stepping on seats and arm rests. When he is in front of OM and OW, they crane their necks to look around him) Excuse me. Excuse me. Pardon me....
OM: There's always one jerk who's late.
OW: Quiet Dear, he'll hear you.
OM: (louder) THERE'S ALWAYS ONE ASS HOLE WHO'S LATE.
OW: Dear!
OM: Oh sorry. Did I ruin these people's (louder) CULTURAL EXPERIENCE. (He knocks on the head of the dummy next to him)
OW: Maybe the play hasn't started yet.
OM: I'm afraid that it has started. The curtain is open. What a waste of $___. (Whatever the price of a ticket is, or just say "waste of money")
YM: (Struggles across the knees and toes the other way) Excuse me. Pardon me....
OM: Jesus. Here he comes again. GOT A WEAK BLADDER, DO YOU?
OW: Dear! Show some pity for a man in his condition.
OM: You mean STUPID? Yes that is sad.
OW: Dear, this play is a little over my head. I cannot figure it out at all.
OM: Yeah, I've had enough of it myself. Let's get out of here. (They get up and leave, struggling over feet)
(After a pause, the dummies get up and leave. Maybe one dummy remains motionless. Just when the audience has decided that this dummy is a real dummy, a stage hand comes and picks up the dummy and carries it off. The dummy waves at the audience. Curtain)
Author's note: The entire purpose of the play is the punch line of the dummies getting up and walking away. Of course, the dummies are played by real people made up to look like dummies. They sit, leaning randomly to further the impression that they are dummies.