St. Mary Jane 7-6.19

ST. MARYJANE The Marijuana Musical BOOK OF MORMONS meets HAIR–a musical love story, murder/mystery and celebration of the marijuana plant in two acts. Book & Lyrics by Peet Nourjian Music by Bob Mainelli Peter Nourjian 401-864-4898 [email protected] www.clearheadfilms.com The Players are: JASON, forty, sense of humor, outdoorsy PAMELA, his wife, forty, strongly religious, practical REVEREND BAKER, fifties, charismatic, righteous, sneaky PUTTY, thirty-something, pot grower working for Jason, quirky, GARCIA, forty, another grower, hippie, layback RASTA, forty, dreadlocks, hip-hop dialogue, pot dealer MRS. SHAPIRO, fit ninety-year old, yoga outfit KEVORK , thirty-something, middle- eastern, pensive BUCK BUCHANAN, fifty, large, loud, cowboy boots NARDO, private detective, old school, works for Baker DETECTIVE LAMBERT, plainclothes, investigates a death THE JUDGE, old, humorless, CHORUS 2. ACT ONE 1. The stage is dark before stage left is lit on a pulpit where REVEREND BAKER, an arrogant evangelical preacher, stands. Surrounding him is a gospel choir in matching robes. PAMELA is the lead singer, blond and appealing. REVEREND BAKER (SINGING) Praise the Lord In Bethlehem there was a light That wise men followed through the night It led them to a bed of straw The sight of Him filled them with awe. CHOIR (SINGING) Hallelujah… Hallelujah… Halle-e-e-e-lu-u-u-u-jah. Stage left goes dark and quiet. Stage right is lit by a grow light shining brightly over several pots of bud-laden marijuana plants. Trimming the crop is JASON, forties, wearing blue jeans and a tee shirt. JASON (SINGING) Christian, Muslim, Hindu, Jew The hell religion puts us through To murder in the name of God Is more than just a little odd. Stage right dark and silent. REVEREND BAKER stage left lit again. REVEREND BAKER (SINGING) Today wise men who see the light Ignore drug dealers who invite Them to explore the cosmic mind And leave religious faith behind 3. In Satan’s garden where they dwell Behind the very gates of hell Grow poison plants that numb the soul And make them question God’s control CHORUS (SINGING) Hallelujah… Hallelujah… Halle-e-e-e-lu-u-u-u-jah. Stage left dark and silent. JASON stage right is lit along with his CHOIR of two male workers about his age. PUTTY has blond braided hair and wears a Hawaiian shirt. GARCIA has a full beard, headband and sunglasses. JASON (SINGING) St. Maryjane One religion commits no crime And you can worship anytime No statues just some sticky weed Rolling paper’s all you need CHORUS St. Maryjane, St. Maryjane You are the sunshine and the rain That grows the flowers in my brain St. Maryjane, St. Maryjane JASON Instead of prayer you take a toke The answers show up in the smoke It fills our heads with peace and love Not fantasies from up above CHORUS St. Maryjane, St. Maryjane You are the sunshine and the rain That grows the flowers in my brain St. Maryjane, St. Maryjane 4. JASON They claim communion wine is blood Commune with nature, burn a bud St. Maryjane, you are superb Baptize the world with your sweet herb CHORUS St. Maryjane, St. Maryjane You are the sunshine and the rain That grows the flowers in my brain St. Maryjane, St. Maryjane. Full stage lit. CHURCH CHOIR Hallelujah. JASON’S CHORUS Marijuana. CHURCH CHOIR Hallelujah. JASON’S CHORUS Marijuana. Stage goes dark. 2. Full stage lit revealing a modern kitchen. PAMELA is preparing dinner. An off-stage door opens and closes before JASON enters with flowers and a bottle of wine. PAMELA You remembered. I can’t remember, did you remember last year? He puts the bottle down and playfully holds the roses under his chin as he kisses her. JASON You forgot last year, remember? Instead of a bottle of wine and an anniversary dinner you dragged me to some evangelical songfest. 5. PAMELA The Sacred Eucharist celebration, that’s right. It went late and we ended up eating after midnight at that pizza joint on Second Avenue. Flying Tomato, I think. That holy service was such a beautifully inspiring event. It’s coming up again and I know you said you’d never… JASON Pl-e-e-ease, Pamela. Let’s not spoil this anniversary. When we first talked about getting married we agreed there were things we didn’t see eye to eye on. It was only natural to have some give and take. She puts the flowers in a vase while he uncorks the wine and pours two glasses. PAMELA Just think, a few years ago you were playing your music on the back of a flatbed truck parked in Greenwich Village. Of course your music was the rock & roll standards that every stoner scratched out on a guitar. You dreamed of a recording contract. A dream that never came true. JASON That same few years ago you were singing to a full house night after night. The subway songbird they used to call you. The A train platform was your stage. Ever wonder how many commuters missed their trains because of you? I’ll bet you could still get a music producer... PAMELA I signed with the biggest music mogul of all, Jason. God’s repertoire touches the hearts and souls of people around the world. Singing in the choir fills me with a joy and satisfaction that even Carnegie Hall could never match. Maybe if you’d come to church and listen once in a while. JASON pours the wine into two glasses. JASON When we said “I do” we both agreed to make a fresh start away from the city. We pooled our savings and here we are. Still got my truck but now i t’s a landscape business that’s gotten so busy I don’t have time to sit in a church pew. 6. PAMELA You did keep your word. Our new life is a wish come true. A lawn, a flower garden, a home where a family can thrive and grow. But something that hasn’t changed is how you ridicule my beliefs. I patiently endure the insults and sarcasm aimed at something you know is sacred and dear to me. Our marriage was a contract agreed to and signed before the eyes of God. JASON A contract is between two sides. Your side has God for a lawyer. Georgetown Law, cum laude, no doubt. While those of us with a more scientific take on creation are left to fend for ourselves. PAMELA Some of the smartest scientists throughout history were strongly religious, you know. Galileo, Isaac Newton, Einstein. They regarded the Bible as a valued resource in their libraries. JASON A lot of those dead intellects also believed that the earth was flat until real science caught up and proved them wrong. Let’s not argue. You’ll always be my subway songbird, even imprisoned in a stained glass cage. He raises his glass for a toast, but she leaves him hanging. PAMELA I’m grateful for the concessions you made, Jason. You swore off drugs and gave up the late night head bangers you used to pal around with. You even smell better. But you were always my biggest fan and now you never hear me sing. You’re not even aware t hat Reverend Baker promoted me to lead the choir. JASON That’s terrific, babe. I’m very proud of you and I know I should be there listening to you as often as possible but I’ve got a payroll to meet and customers who’ve got a dozen other landscape guys to choose from. Owning a business is full time, including Sunday. (pause) Boy, something smells good. 7. PAMELA Your favorite, Shepherd’s Pie. Or as you like to call it ‘Lord Is My Shepherd’s Pie’. He puts an arm around her and she taps her wine glass into his for a toast. JASON Remember our honeymoon, Pam? That flophouse in the worst section of Paris. The single bed we shared. The song we made up and never finished. PAMELA (SINGING) Honeymoon in Paris Our honeymoon in Paris, France Across the river Seine we danced A fiddle playing songs of love Barges below, the moon above JASON (SINGING) My foot work went from bad to worst Complaining I was dry with thirst We found a café off the Champs Our table lit by antique lamps They engage in a whimsical Apache Dance. PAMELA “To us!” our glasses rim to rim While church bells chimed a sacred hymn We made our way to Notre Dame Inside we felt a peaceful calm JASON The faithful waited for their turn To say a prayer as candles burn I leaned in close and bowed my head But blew out half the flames instead… PAMELA Jason!!! 8. Stage goes dark 3. Full stage lit revealing the brick walls and glass ceiling of a tall greenhouse. Scaffolding rises through a jungle of pot plants in full bloom. Slow spinning fans and angled grow lights hang off the scaffolding along with two workers, GARCIA and PUTTY, who are pruning and trimming. GARCIA At least you are a legal citizen. When you got no papers like me, the city is where my people hide. Out here in the suburbs, no taco trucks, no Latin beat up and down the avenue, no Cuban chicks flashing their pretty white teeth. The only amigos I ever see are pulling a trailer loaded with lawn mowers and leaf blowers. PUTTY Legal? That’s an ambiguous word. I’m a legal citizen but it’s suppose to be illegal the way people look at a gay man, up and down and sideways.

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