Two Muses Slumming It by Yussef El Guindi

Samara Harris Samara Harris Literary Agency samaraharris.com [email protected] (773)852-2262

Yussef El Guindi, 325 Summit Avenue, East, Apt. 15, Seattle, WA 98102 C:206-841-0101 [email protected] Cast

THALIA: Muse of Comedy, any age, race, or gender (though might be male). MELPOMENE: Muse of Tragedy, any age, race or gender (though might be a woman). SAM: Hopeful actor, male (could also be a woman), any race, early 20s, struggling to emotionally stay afloat. TERPSICHORE: Muse of Dance, any age, race or gender (though might be a woman).

(Two Muses in someone’s home. One is MELPOMENE, Muse of Tragedy, the other is THALIA, Muse of Comedy. Thalia looks upset, Melpomene is consoling him.) MELPOMENE There, there. It’s not so bad. It could be worse. THALIA How? Worse how? MELPOMENE Well... THALIA We’ve been downloaded - please note the terminology, “You are to be downloaded”, not “Assigned”, or “Encouraged to inspire”, but “downloaded” into this wreckage of someone’s... (Looking around the living room.) pizza-strewn - is this even a living room? Please note the sea of empty beer cans by the pizza vomit. MELPOMENE It’s two beer cans. THALIA “Downloadable”. That’s how we’re conceived now by the powers that be. We’re part of the gig economy. We’re like something delivered by “Doordash”, or “Uber Eats”. Want to be inspired? We’ll send you a bunch of Muses and you too might become a genius artist. The great Muses in their infinite abilities to be anywhere will come to your place and make your pieces shine, whatever crap you’re working on. MELPOMENE I think that’s cat sick, not human vomit. THALIA I’ve played Carnegie Hall! I’ve trodden the boards of Broadway! I’ve whispered into the ears of comic geniuses. I’ve helped provoke gales, gales of laughter from audiences too full from their pre-show meals to do anything let alone laugh. I have made theater cynics pee in their pants from the jokes I’ve inspired. And where do I find myself now? (Melpomene, privately, makes the hand gesture of someone talking too much.) Don’t make that “you’re yakking too much” gesture with me. MELPOMENE For the Muse of Comedy, you can be a real sourpuss, you know that. 2.

THALIA I’ve been dumped into a wannabe actor’s home. I’ve been sent to inspire an amateur with the emotional range of a flea - to be funny. MELPOMENE And sad. Do you see me complaining about my tasks? THALIA Oh please, when you’re the Muse of Tragedy, you barely have to do anything. You can bore people to death and then tell them it’s their fault for not understanding. And then, after boring them to death, they get browbeaten for being bored. Whereas I’m on the razor’s edge of success or sucking very badly. None of that “It must be great art if we’re not getting it.” When they don’t get me I’m booed. I stock up on all the fruits and veggies from the things thrown at me. MELPOMENE Well let’s be clear, it’s the poor souls you fail to inspire who get booed. THALIA But it’s my reputation that takes the hit. And excuse me, I don’t “fail” if I’m given nothing to work with. I can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s tin ear. I’m an inspiration not a magician! Nothing is more terrifying or sends me into deeper depression than being sent to open mics at comedy clubs. (Mocking tone.) “Oh Tragedy is so much more worthy of our attention then Comedy.” When we both know I’m the one who gives more insights into the human condition than you do. MELPOMENE Let’s not rehash that argument again. THALIA I’m just saying... (Feeling sorry for himself.) it’s not easy being me these days. Laughter’s as hard to get as toilet paper used to be. MELPOMENE Can we focus on the task at hand? Please? You know he’s in that bathroom crying. (If a woman plays the role of Sam, change the pronouns and male references.) Wondering why he should bother doing anything with the way things are. He’s dangerously close to giving up on his dreams of acting and becoming a computer programmer. 3.

THALIA That - that would definitely fall under the category of suicidal thoughts. MELPOMENE We have to reignite his first love and make him believe he can still be the storyteller he’s always wanted to be. THALIA Or maybe we stay out of it and let him face the facts of his own, how do I put this, lack of talent? MELPOMENE We don’t know if he has any. We can’t judge where his talents might take him in the real world until the real world starts functioning again. THALIA But don’t you feel in your bones he’s not that good? MELPOMENE You’re sooo judgmental. THALIA There is such a thing as thinning out the herd for the overall health of the herd. MELPOMENE No wonder the language of Comedy is so violent: “I knocked ‘em dead”, “I killed it”, “I owned them”. Try growing a heart for a change. THALIA I’m just sick of slumming it with hacks!...I’ve worked the funny bones of Shakespeare, for god’s sakes. MELPOMENE Shakespeare’s comedies aren’t that funny, by the way. No matter how many sexual innuendoes you forced in there. (Thalia is about to respond when they both hear the door open.) Okay, he’s coming. Now bring your full game. I mean it. I think he might actually hurt himself if we don’t give him the encouragement he needs. THALIA (Reluctantly.) Fine. - What are we working with? That monologue he downloaded? Something else? (SAM enters looking forlorn.) 4.

MELPOMENE Whatever he does, just - double the dose of inspiration. (Sam takes in the living room. His look suggests he sees it as reflective of his life: a mess. He discovers the vomit.) SAM Is that...? (To his offstage cat.) Kitty? Did you throw up again? MELPOMENE (To Thalia, half whisper.) I told you it was cat vomit. SAM I don’t need vomit in my life right now. Why do you always throw up when I’m feeling crappy? CAT (Off-stage, sad.) Meow. SAM (To his offstage cat, as he gets something to wipe it up.) Is this your way of showing empathy, sweetie? Are you trying to tell me you feel me? - Is this like your objective correlative? Can we just cuddle next time? THALIA Is he doing a bit or - ? Are we supposed to start? MELPOMENE I think he’s just talking to the cat. SAM (Holding out the vomit- soaked tissue like it’s the skull of Yorick.) “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” MELPOMENE (To Thalia.) Okay, go. (Melpomene kneels, ready to whisper into Sam’s ear. Thalia doesn’t kneel.) 5.

SAM “Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” MELPOMENE (To Sam.) Okay, good, feel it, listen to the words. Emote with pathos, but not too much. Lightly, like you’re skipping a stone over water. SAM (Dispirited.) Blah blah blah, “So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.” Who am I kidding? THALIA Well that bombed. MELPOMENE (Ticked off.) Why didn’t you come in from your end? You just stood there. THALIA It ain’t a comic piece, it’s all you. MELPOMENE The sonnet has a wry sense about it. There’s a hint of melancholia and wryness about it. THALIA Excuse me, I took text analysis, there’s no humor anywhere in that sonnet. MELPOMENE He was holding up cat vomit: clearly he wants there to be humor. He’s dying for a laugh. THALIA So am I! SAM I suck so bad. - Thirty thousand in debt, a useless degree...dad was right. THALIA Was that it? The sonnet? Are we done? Can we leave? MELPOMENE (Fed up with Thalia.) You know - I’ve noticed laughter around the world has gotten a lot edgier and darker. Maybe you could put back some of that compassion you used to put in laughs; you know, laughing “with”, instead of “at”. 6.

THALIA I work with what I’ve got. If people are meaner, that’s how it comes out. (After wiping away the vomit and disposing of the tissue, Sam picks up a few sheets of paper.) MELPOMENE Okay, here we go: he’s doing the monologue he downloaded. THALIA Did you get a chance to look at it? What’s it about? MELPOMENE We got this. Be prepared for anything. (Melpomene and Thalia look over the shoulder of Sam as he looks over the monologue. Slight beat. Responding to the text.) Uh-huh. Humor right there for you to work with. THALIA Barely. MELPOMENE And there. I think this is a funny piece. THALIA These writers. I swear. No wonder actors are ready to call it quits with this kind of material. (Sam balls up the pieces of paper and throws them away.) That didn’t take long. Well, we can’t work miracles. You either meet us half way or you spend the rest of your life an uninspired mess. MELPOMENE Sam: pick it up. SAM (To himself.) I’ve had it. MELPOMENE Pick it up. Try again. You have to try, Sam. SAM I’m done. 7.

MELPOMENE No you’re not, you haven’t even started. (Sam has gone to a table and picked up a pen. He starts writing on a piece of paper.) THALIA Oh - look. There he goes. Maybe he’s writing his own material. MELPOMENE Even better. You see: just by being here we get his creative juices going. THALIA (Reading Sam’s note.) “Dear Mom and Dad, I’m sorry to have been such a disappointment. And I’m sorry for what this will do to you. I know my actions will hurt you - badly... (Thalia starts to trail off until he’s just silently reading what’s being written.) - and for that I’m sorriest of all. But I just - can’t... (Thalia and Melpomene silently read. Their expressions change as the full import of what they’re reading becomes clear. Perhaps Melpomene raises her hand to her mouth.) Mayday. Mayday. This is not a drill. This is - what is that? Is that another bit? Is he pretending?/ Or - ? MELPOMENE I don’t know. I don’t know this person well enough to know if he’s capable of going from cat vomit to the cliff’s edge in two clicks. THALIA Surely we wouldn’t manifest if he was serious. We wouldn’t be called down. We appear only for those ready to create, not... (Pointing at Sam’s note.) that. This has to be him playing the part. It can’t be real. MELPOMENE Tell him a joke. THALIA What? 8.

MELPOMENE Distract him with something funny. THALIA That’s not how I work. MELPOMENE Do it! THALIA (Whispering in Sam’s ear.) Why did the bird fly into the bar? (Sam looks up. Melpomene waits for the punchline. When it doesn’t come:) MELPOMENE Why? Why did the bird fly into the bar? THALIA I don’t know! I haven’t figured out the punchline yet! (Sam shakes his head and goes back to writing.) MELPOMENE How did you get to be the Muse of Comedy? No wonder people are dying out there with the way you operate. First the cataclysm of climate change and now this: the death of comedy. THALIA Hey, big shot, whisper something insightful and mournful so he marvels at the warm beating heart of life and wants to live. Let’s see how you do. MELPOMENE (Kneels beside Sam. Or paces?) Sam: listen to me. Yes, life is tragic and awful and sometimes you wonder “why bother”. But your place in the world, in all the suffering you see, in your own distress and agony, is - well, it’s...that’s - that’s just the... THALIA Uh-huh. What? Whatchyougot? (Melpomene struggles to find the right words.) All waiting for the Muse of Tragedy and her insights into the human condition. MELPOMENE You know what - 9.

THALIA Now that’s funny. MELPOMENE Go to hell. THALIA Watching Tragedy bomb? That’s hi-larious. MELPOMENE The Tragic Muse is not supposed to offer balm and comfort, that’s your job. You come in when all seems hopeless. THALIA You just suck at your job. MELPOMENE And you suck at yours! You wouldn’t know humor if it pulled down your pants and gave you a banana peel to work with. THALIA If someone pulled down my pants and gave me a banana peel I’d call the cops and have him registered as a sex offender. (The sound of a harp is heard. Thalia and Melpomene turn in the direction of the sound and see TERPSICHORE, the Muse of Dance, enter. She enters dancing.) What in Zeus’s name are you doing here? TERPSICHORE You two can leave, I’m taking over. MELPOMENE Says who? TERPSICHORE (To her fellow Muses.) You’re being recalled. That’s as delicately as I can put it. (To Sam.) You don’t want to do this. And you know why? You’re true hidden talents lie as a dancer. (Sam stops writing and looks up.) Yes, you’re a dancer, my friend. You’re like a suitor too fearful to approach his true love. Time to admit your true passion and show the world what you’ve got. SAM What if I’m really a dancer. And it’s not just a side hustle. TERPSICHORE It’s not, and you are. 10.

SAM (Crumples up the note.) I’m a dancer. TERPSICHORE Damn right. So break out some moves with me right now. (Sam turns on the music. He dances.) SAM I’m a dancer. THALIA Well that’s not fair. He was a dancer all along. No wonder we couldn’t get through to him. TERPSICHORE You’re being recalled indefinitely. The world can’t handle the stark binaries you two offer. Tragedy and Comedy are to be retired until further notice. It’s Dance, baby, and the other Muses on the block: Epic and Love poetry, Music and me. We’re going to shake up the coming new world with joy. No more the harsh whips of the tragic, or the cruel blows of comedy. Pathos and laughter will put on their leotards from now on and dance, or they can go bleep themselves. THALIA I really want to shoot Terpsichore right now. MELPOMENE Can we talk about this? TERPSICHORE Take it up with the Boss. Now get off my stage. That’s it, Sam. Dance! Dance like the whole world’s watching! Yes! Yes! (Thalia looks like he’s ready to punch Terpsichore, or trip her up. Melpomene takes Thalia by the hand and leads him off.) MELPOMENE We’ll be back. TERPSICHORE Lovely, Sam. Just lovely. I see such a bright future for you. A bright...bright future. (They dance some more. The cat meows a happy meow off-stage. End play.)