Digital Script

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For performance, you must still apply for rights on our website, be approved and purchase a cast quantity of scripts in either digital or print format. Alone, Together

Edited by WILLIAM DAVIES KING

Foreword by RISA BRAININ

Written by LINDA ALPER, KATIE BENDER, JAMI BRANDLI, DAN CASTELLANETA, DEB LACUSTA, LEO CABRANES-GRANT, MIA CHUNG, YUSSEF EL GUINDI, ANNE GARCÍA-ROMERO, IDRIS GOODWIN, ENID GRAHAM, ARLENE HUTTON, LILA ROSE KAPLAN, WIL- LIAM DAVIES KING, JENNY MERCEIN, BRIAN OTAÑO, LYNN ROSEN, CHERI STEINKELLNER, JAMES STILL, ALISON TATLOCK, ANNIE TORSIGLIERI, JOHN WALCH, CHERYL L. WEST and SHERI WILNER.

Dramatic Publishing Company Woodstock, Illinois • Australia • New Zealand • South Africa

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ISBN: 978-1-61959-253-7

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Table of Contents

Foreword by Risa Brainin x

Linda Alper Pick Me Up 1 Cast: One actor, any gender.

When called on to make a special Italian dessert, a chef in a senior living residence discovers an emotional connection to a difficult resident.

Katie Bender King Zoom 9 Cast: Two female; two males; one female/male/non-binary.

Don King is dying, he convenes a family zoom meeting to divy out his fortune.

The Most Human Human 29 Cast: One female, 20s.

Maybe the Turing Test prize for Most Human Human is something Maria could get famous for . . . flaws and all.

Jami Brandli Pandemic Therapy 35 Cast: Two females, one 20s, the other 40s-50s; one male, 20s.

A young married couple struggles to adjust to their new pandemic living situation while their therapist wrestles with her own problems.

Zoom Audition 48 Cast: One female, early to mid 20s.

A young woman does her first Zoom audition while she wrestles with her inner darkness.

Leo Cabranes-Grant Zoom Baby 53 Cast: One Latino/Puerto Rican male, mid-30s; one white female, early-30s.

As the Covid pandemic starts to unravel in the United States, an intercultural couple has a Zoom conversation in which the future of their marriage is challenged by an unexpected glitch in their fertility plans.

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Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta Dynamite Sales 66 Cast: One female, 30s; one male, 30.

When a business motivational speaker loses control of her sales seminar to her only participant—a clueless, sexist, misanthrope—she begins to question her own career.

Rosebud 83 Cast: One male, 20s-30s; one female, 20s-30s; one of any gender, 20s-30s.

When one couple’s relationship goes online due to Covid, the romantic bloom is off the Rosebud, so to speak—all because of a strange obsession with Orson Welles’ film Citizen Kane.

Mia Chung Quietus 94 Cast: One character named I. Any sex or race.

“I” has been feeling queasy lately.

Which Actually Isn’t So New 97 Cast: Two females, any race.

Two friends catch up with each other.

Yussef El Guindi Cha-Cha 110 Cast: One female; one male.

This is supposed to be Salma and Justin’s date night, but Justin is worried that Salma may be coming down with the virus. She hesitates seeing a doctor because she is undocumented. A marriage proposal, and learning to cha-cha are a couple of the things that occupy this call between two people in love who are trying to survive.

Anne García-Romero Late Night Prayer 124 Cast: One male; one female.

While experiencing anxiety over her future, an undocumented student actor reaches out to her fellow actor to seek guidance and solace.

Idris Goodwin The Art of Coping 133 Cast: One any gender.

A young adult takes to the live stream and provides tools to help us soldier on.

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Talk Tomorrow 139 Cast: Two any gender.

In the midst of a global pandemic, two siblings have their daily video call. A play about connection.

Enid Graham Do Not Go, My Love 151 Cast: One female, 30-60; one male, around 20.

While navigating the cold bureaucracy of a government help-line, two people find a way to have a human connection.

Arlene Hutton All the Cranes in the World 162 Cast: One female, 18.

While her sister is hospitalized, Meredith has to remotely babysit her five-year-old niece via FaceTime.

Neither Here Nor There 167 Cast: Two females, 21, any race.

Two best friends, roommates since freshman year, are separated when their college shuts down after spring break and discover a class divide they didn’t know existed.

Lila Rose Kaplan Pandemic Romance Monologue 180 Cast: One female, late 30s, any race.

Rowan's husband won't stop buying romance novels. What's she going to do?

William Davies King Les Mots Justes, or Hold Your Tongue 184 Cast: Three characters, any gender, any age.

Three characters in search of a way—a word—to cut the distance. Playful/painful vignette.

Jenny Mercein Auld Lang Syne 194 Cast: One female, 40s-60s; two males, 40s-60s.

When a global pandemic cancels their high school reunion, Dan makes the bold move to reach out to his long-lost friend Abby.

Brian Otaño I’m Not Going Home 203 Cast: One actor, early 20s, any gender or ethnicity.

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A young Covid-19 patient in New York City finds the courage to end a relationship from their hospital bed.

South Lake Tahoe, California 209 Cast: Two males; two females, late teens/early 20s, any ethnicity (except Glenn, who should be white).

A Zoom party/movie night takes a frightening turn for four quarantined students.

Lynn Rosen But Here I Am 222 Cast: Ideally two males, but male, female, or non-binary for either part is fine.

In this serio/comic scene, two siblings who are polar opposites try to connect during a late-night call.

That Flower, That Flower 232 Cast: One female, 20s.

In this serio/comic monologue, a betrayed wife leaves her husband a “Dear John” video before fleeing.

The Shakespeare Section 236 Cast: One male, or female, or non-binary. Feel free to change all pronouns to anything, ideally 20s but can be any age.

In this comic monologue for camera, or for a live audience, a student spots the person they're in love with and channels Shakespeare to win them over. Or at least they try to.

Cheri Steinkellner The Great Greats 240 Cast: One female (Grandma Elsie); Seven any gender, cast to type.

Elsie’s great-grandchildren get together online to celebrate grandma's 100th, quarantine-style.

James Still Abundance 255 Cast: One actor. Everything tells a story. In the same spirit in which I wrote the play, characters may/can/should be played by actors of any race, ethnicity, origin and other-abledness. In whatever ways the play is cast, it will tell the story of abundance.

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much about epiphany and generosity, about discovery and gifts, about connections and saying goodbye.

Mom’s Kids 262 Cast: Two women; two men. Everything tells a story. In the same spirit in which I wrote the play, characters may/can/should be played by actors of any race, ethnicity, origin and other-abledness. In whatever way the play is cast, it will tell the story of a 21st-century family.

There has been a lot of conversation about being at our best while sheltering in place—and then there are Mom’s kids. . . .

Waiting for Now 276 Cast: Two women. Everything tells a story. In the same spirit in which I wrote the play, characters may/can/should be played by actors of any race, ethnicity, origin and other-abledness. In whatever ways the play is cast, it will tell the story of two souls.

Whitman v The United States: Case 36 (on Zoom) 286 Cast: Two actors. Everything tells a story. In the same spirit in which I wrote the play, characters may/can/should be played by actors of any race, ethnicity, origin and other-abledness. In whatever ways the play is cast, it will tell the story of a storyteller and a judge.

Part fever dream, part theater, part digital trial. . . . With anxiety and uncertainty as a writer’s primary companions, Whitman v The United States takes things a bit farther as one writer imagines being on trial for writing stories that have no plot. . .

Alison Tatlock Flight 294 Cast: Two adults, any race/ethnicity, one young, one older.

A queen instructs a young person to stop running and return home.

Here Comes the Sun 301 Cast: One male, 40s-50s; one male, 30s-50; one older male; one female, 40s-50’s; one female, any age; one, any gender, 30s-50s; one, any gender, any age; two twins, male and female or non-binary.

A multi-generational group of close friends and family attempts to record a song for an unnamed loved one, but quarantine stress, technical difficulties, and interpersonal challenges intervene.

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Annie Torsiglieri First Date 309 Cast: One female or non-binary, any race, any age.

Edwina bares her soul and misquotes poetry as she ponders the merits of Puppy Chow. Perfect for a live performance or zoom.

The Safest Space 315 Cast: Two characters: any gender, any race, any age.

In this post-apocalyptic world Milo and Bock are connected by deteriorating technology. . . and so much more. Beckett meets zoom.

John Walch 2084 326 Cast: Two actors, male or female, 21 and any age.

“Hi {user name}! It’s 2084, thank you for contacting Zoom Customer Service—to ensure your safety, we record everything—how may I help you today?” This short drama/comedy flirts with Orwell’s classic Nineteen Eighty-Four, as it contemplates a world where we are forever surveilled by a chipper customer service agent of a private company and a disgruntled customer who believes they have been cursed by their past and Doomed by Zoom.

Cheryl L. West Corona Chicken Part One 339 Cast: One female, any ethnicity.

A high-strung, middle class woman ventures out for the first time in weeks only to have a raw chicken encounter that upends her entire life.

Corona Chicken Part Two 345 Cast: Three females; one male.

There’s the immeasurable grief and then there’s the grief unexpressed. How did a stolen chicken bury a family between the abyss of both?

Safety Net 358 Cast: One woman, African-American; one woman of any race.

An essential worker tries for government assistance, but soon realizes how non-essential she really is. This piece is written as a monologue but can be performed with two people. The intake worker, Mag, can be played by a second actress of any race.

Sheri Wilner LOL OL 365

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Cast: One female, 35-55; Two to six, any race, age, or gender.

As owner of the Laugh Out Loud yoga studio, Laughter Yoga instructor Dot Darcy can make anyone laugh. But when the coronavirus requires her to take LOL online, a class of heartsick singles teaches her some experiences can’t be recreated on Zoom.

Table of Contents—by Alone, Together festival chapters 379

Alone, Together Company 386

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Foreword

On March 10, 2020, one week before the end of winter quarter, everyone in the University of California Santa Barbara community received an email from Chancellor Henry Yang instructing us to move to online teaching as soon as possible due to the Covid-19 pandemic. The theater/dance faculty immediately came together to figure out what to do to best serve the needs of our students. Final projects and upcoming productions had to be canceled, and students were heading home for the foreseeable future to take classes on Zoom from their childhood bedrooms! We were all thrown into a bit of chaos: how could we create a remote curriculum for all of our aspiring young artists?

It was at that point that my dear friend, festival co-director and head of the BFA Acting Program Annie Torsiglieri, had the vision to say: “Let’s commission playwrights to write monologues and plays that are meant to be performed on Zoom.” Well, I went a little crazy and invited every writer who has ever worked with our new play development program LAUNCH PAD over the past 15 years to participate. That was around 30 writers, and 24 answered the call! We gave the writers this prompt: Alone, Together. 39 plays were written, 23 directors engaged, 61 actors cast, 5 stage managers, 3 designers, 3 dramaturgs, 10 staff assembled virtually and, together, we created an all-day live Zoom festival in four chapters on Saturday, June 6, 2020.

What we couldn’t anticipate is that not only would we be rehearsing during a global health pandemic, but we’d be in the midst of a revolution as well. George Floyd was murdered on Monday, May 25, and it reignited the cry against racism in our country. Our company was composed of students, faculty, staff, and professional guest artists from across the country. Many were protesting by day, rehearsing by night. Even today, as I write this, the protests continue. It was important to both Annie and me that all of the artists involved in Alone, Together knew (and still know) that UCSB Department of Theater and Dance and LAUNCH PAD stand with our Black communities across the country on this day and every day. BLACK LIVES MATTER. We are with you.

As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote in a famous letter from the Birmingham jail in 1963: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” We, as artists, are committed to speaking out against injustice.

One of our actors Xochitl Clare, announced Alone, Together on her Facebook page by quoting performance and installation artist Ester Hernandez who said, “We must continue to use our creative skills to give strength to our political, cultural and spiritual struggle.”

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Xochitl then continued with her own thoughts: “‘Is making theater really important now?’ my heart asks. As a young black artist, struggling to grapple with our world, channeling my energy towards my craft has provided me some solace. Support me as I move forward in virtual solidarity with fellow theater artists across the nation to do a very simple, yet important thing—to come together.” And that’s exactly what we did on 6/6/20. With an audience of 800 people over the course of the day, we all came together.

As theater-makers, we communicate through the art we create. The 39 plays in this collection reflect many perspectives on life during the early days of the quarantine. They brilliantly offer moments of joy, pathos, insight, hope, and comfort knowing we are never really alone.

Risa Brainin, Artistic Director, LAUNCH PAD

FOR AUTHORIZED DIGITAL USE ONLY PICK ME UP

Linda Alper

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Pick Me Up was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Leo Cabranes-Grant. Luan Schooler was the dramaturg.

Cast: CHEF…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Daniel Herrera

Why write for a Zoom Fest? It’s what we do—try and stop us. We all need to tell, share and take in stories. I also want there to be useful material for young performers, directors, and designers to explore, so they can continue to practice and refine their talents. And lastly, in dark times, I seem to cling to what’s absurd, funny and occasionally sweet—maybe my way of coping and forging ahead. -Linda Alper

Linda Alper’s work has been produced by The Oregon Shakespeare Festival, A.C.T. in San Francisco, Denver Center, The Acting Company and many others. Her new play, SHANGHAI, will be developed with LAUNCH PAD, and produced by Artists Repertory Theatre. A leading actress for 24 seasons at OSF, Linda is also a resident artist at Artists Rep. She is a Fulbright Senior Scholar and Fulbright Specialist Grantee.

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PICK ME UP

By Linda Alper

A CHEF, any gender, separates eggs, performing for a camera

CHEF Amici! Carini! Benvenuti a tutti!

Egg yolks plop into a bowl

This is my first virtual feed. . . food feed. . . From the one, the only. . . Bistro Dolce Vita!

Let’s celebrate our collective vitas by making a famous dolce, beloved by my diners for its many fine qualities—sweet, silky, spongy. . . The Pick Me Up. . . Tiramisu!

Throughout the monologue, Chef demonstrates, measuring, mixing and tasting

To begin, we blend egg yolks with a quarter cup of sugar. Beat vigorously, until tripled in volume. Whisks Come on, baby. Puff up. Expand. Go, go, go. . .

Chef steps back, exposing an empty kitchen

Usually it’s elbow-to-elbow in here. But for the foreseeable future. . . Welcome to my private gondola.

Don’t you wish we really were on a gondola? A crowded gondola. Or wading across the Trevi Fountain, hounded by paparazzi.

Alas. We are not in Rome. We are not in Venice. Italy. We’re not even in Venice, California.

But we are in Naples! At the Montebella Senior Estates. . . In Naples. . . Florida!

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The gondola that never goes anywhere.

Usually, my cucina would be bustling at this hour. Aneesh and José chopping. Keisha and Usman setting up. Mei Ling, Carlos and Fatima. Mihn and Marisol. And Chaz.

Chef looks around, spooked by the empty space

Not that we get here early to make sauces. Our diners don’t go in for spice. Not much sugar. And salt??! Nothing crispy, chewy, stringy or tough. Bake and boil. That’s what my horde goes for.

I guess I think of my diners as a horde. All of them calling out, “the meat it too pink, give me the dressing on the side!” According to Mei Ling, the word horde comes from the Mongol invaders—who swept their way across Asia. She says we probably all have a little Mongol horde in our DNA. Not hoarders—but that’s a whole other thing.

Finishes whisking

In China, Mei Ling also tells me, they honor this horde. This horde would be having home cooked meals. In a real home. Same in Mexico, according to Carlos.

But as head of the kitchen, I can vouch for Montebella’s “variety of home cooked food, prepared by an international chef.” That's me. I took a cooking class in Rome. The real Rome. . . not the one in Texas. Hey, at least this job comes with health insurance.

Anyway. I’m here extra early today—in anticipo—which means early, but I think of it as “in anticipation,” because I have that heart-beating-fast, touchy stomach that feels like anticipation. . .

Chef struggles to remain calm and sets out a second bowl

Because I have to make a special birthday dessert. For Ed. Ed is one of my demanding diners. And last night, Ed demanded a tiramisu. For his birthday. A Pick Me Up.

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Chef pours cream in the new bowl, secretively reveals a slab of cream cheese, which he mixes in, and adds more sugar

This is where you blend in cream cheese—this place charges a fortune, but they won’t let me buy real mascarpone. . . . And don’t tell anyone, but, Ed, I don’t really care about your glucose and your veins today!

Combine with the egg and sugar. Blend until it forms peaks.

Pay close attention to those peaks.

Because, actually. . . Today isn’t really Ed’s birthday. Ed’s real birthday is September 11—which is a date you don’t forget. But after hearing that every guest would now dine from a tray left outside his room— Ed announced that today was his birthday.

Having made peaks, Chef sets out a pot of coffee and a bottle of Jim Beam.

Normally, I wouldn’t give in to that kind of shenanigan—claiming a bogus birthday. . . But since nobody’s in the dining room, nobody can demand that they, too, should get an extra special dessert. . . .

Combines bourbon and coffee. A double take to the bourbon

I could use a pick me up.

You’re really supposed to use Vin Santo for this recipe. Sainted wine. . . What wine isn’t sainted?

Chef hesitates, then takes a sip of bourbon

Like most of our guests, Ed is well heeled. What does that mean—Ed wears expensive shoes? Actually, he does. On line-dancing nights. Ed is a terrific dancer. Which is amazing, because sometimes Ed can barely stand up—but turn on the Dolly Parton and Ed transforms into a rare commodity here; a single, breathing male—with some pretty amazing moves.

But no lines are allowed right now. . . maybe a dotted line. . . but that’s not what these players are thinking about. Do you know what goes on in these places!!? And by the way, Tiramisu doesn’t just mean Pick Me Up. It also means Pull Me Up. Lift Me Up.

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Pull It Up.

Drinks again

The life force.

Takes out a sheet cake

What’s really strange is that, before Montebella, Ed was single. Not like being-a-player single. Ed lived with his mother. For fifty years. Then he lived alone.

Like I do.

Cuts the cake into oblong strips

At least, Ed had one highlight in his life. A real highlight. Near Florence. Italy. When Ed was in the army. He was a scout, so he’d go first, looking for danger. He’d sleep in abandoned pig sties. Ed calls them styles—pig styles. Ed still has this gun—a German Luger he got off. . . somebody. I don’t know why Ed decided to tell me about the gun, except that I like hearing Ed’s stories. Even though, knowing Ed has that gun, which I’m sure doesn’t still work, makes me even more. . . In anticipo.

Trying to stay calm, Chef refrains from another drink, and displays an oblong chunk of cake

Ladyfingers—in Italian, Savoiardi. You dip each Ladyfinger in the coffee and booze ooze, then set them in a baking dish, side by side. . . Like little coffins. Course these aren’t real Ladyfingers either. I defrosted a sponge cake, leftover from Mrs. Delgado’s birthday a month back. Her real birthday. Man, was that a lifetime ago. . . Mrs. Delgado stood up, took a bite of her cake, then lifted her fork to share it with a newcomer. Two mouths on one piece of cake. . .

Chef layers the cake and wet mixture

Layer the cake fingers and the peaks. . .

Chef’s hands are shaking. Drinks more bourbon

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No baking for this dessert, by the way, which means I’m serving Ed raw eggs. I had a nightmare about that, and woke up in a sweat. It’s so hard to sleep. I don’t always know where I am. I don’t know what day it is—without Fiesta Fridays and Make-em-Yourself Sundays. I don’t know the time. Not without Keisha screaming for a break, or José phoning his kid when she gets home from school.

Got to keep my mind of the cake. Grated chocolate on top. . .

Chef starts to grate chocolate on the top of the Tiramisu, then stops, in panic

Shit. That looks like ants. And Ed sees bugs. A fleck of dirt, a piece of lint—to Ed, it has arms, legs and a thorax! I tell him, Ed, it’s a poppy seed. But then, an actual bug makes an appearance. Airborne. And I want to squash Ed and those bugs. . . But now I’m feeling kind of buggy. Short of breath. My chest tightening like both Ed and Mrs. Delgado are standing on top of me.

Puts a candle in the dessert and tries to remain calm

I just need to step out of my gondola, And deliver this to Ed.

Pours extra bourbon over the top, takes another slug, then, with shaky hands, manages to light the candle

Okay candle. Stay lit, you fucker. Breathe. Expand. Let’s go.

Juggling things, Chef heads out, no longer trying to teach a cooking lesson

Great. All the doors look the same. What moron built a home for old people where you can’t tell one door from another!

Cat meows

Ed has a cat! Named Major Domo. Ed calls him Major Duomo.

Cat wails.

Chill, Major D! Cats know when something’s not right. They connect. They bond.

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Chef knocks

Ed? Ed! You in there? Eddie? Senore? Sir? It’s head chef.

You asked me to pick you up, and for once, I’m doing exactly what you asked. Just answer the door. I just want to see you, even if you don’t remember who I am.

More cat

Oh, wait. I’m just supposed to just set the tray outside your door and leave.

The cat howls. Chef puts down the dessert

For you, and Major Duomo. Just knock back, buddy. Let me know you’re breathing in there.

My friend. My honored friend.

Just knock.

Finally, a knock comes from inside the room. Incredibly relieved, Chef takes a moment. Chef is almost in tears.

I’m leaving now. If you want, I’ll bring you a Pick Me Up every day, ‘til this is over. Give a taste to Major Duomo. Let me know how he likes it.

I’m outta here.

Buon compleanno.

THE END

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KING ZOOM

Katie Bender

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King Zoom was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Julie Fishell. Liz Engelman was the dramaturg.

Cast: DON KING……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Sean O’Shea SOPHIA KING…………………………………………………………………………………………………Hailey Turner VERNESSA KING……………………………………………………………………………………………….Lana Spring JAKEY KING……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Ethan Kim TINA KING……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Daniel Stein

By way of Zoom, King Lear meets Arrested Development meets the American dynasty whose last name rhymes with Lump! -Katie Bender

Katie Bender (she/her/hers) is a playwright, theatre maker and pimento cheese enthusiast. Her plays Surviviors, The Fault, Instructions for a Séance, and The Howling Gallery grapple with American myths, revel in female bonds, and delight in physical exertion. She is thrilled to be returning to UCSB LAUNCH PAD to write zoom plays for the super-talented students and faculty.

Katiebenderplaywright.com https://wordpress.com/view/katiebenderplaywright.com Kate Bussert Bret Adams Ltd 448 W44th Street New York, NY 10036 212-765-5630 [email protected]

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KING ZOOM

By Katie Bender

Characters: DON KING, patriarch. SOPHIA KING, wife. VERNESSA KING, oldest dependent. JAKEY KING, middle dependent. TINA KING, smallest dependent.

Place: A zoom meeting mostly at the King estate. Very much right now.

A family zoom meeting. Don sent the invite; he sits at an executive desk in his office. He is fully dressed and all business.

Sophia is in her bedroom, dressing; mostly we just see her décolletage, as If she doesn’t want us to see her face.

Vernessa is on a treadmill in the rec room, full makeup, probably pearls.

Jakey has a background up, some iconic image from WWII. He’s shirtless.

Tina is only an icon on the screen, or some weird dark corner of the house.

DON Hello, is this thing on? Can you hear me?

JAKEY Dad, stop shouting.

SOPHIA We hear you darling—

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VERNESSA Something’s wrong with your screen, mom.

SOPHIA Honey, don’t yell.

VERNESSA Are you, like. . .? I think your robe is covering the camera?

(She removes her robe and hides the martini set up—)

SOPHIA I’m getting dressed for the—

DON Are we all met?

JAKEY Whoa, Tina showed up. That’s a first.

VERNESSA What the—?

SOPHIA Jakey, are you. . . ? Is that. . . ?

VERNESSA So creepy.

SOPHIA What is that behind you?

JAKEY It’s like the most iconic WWII image. It’s like Normandy.

SOPHIA Where are you?

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JAKEY Oh my god I’m in my room Obviously, It’s just like—

VERNESSA Must we really be exposed to your weird hairless boy chest. It’s so gross.

DON Is something wrong with your face, Sophia?

SOPHIA What? No.

DON Well, I’d like to see my wife’s face.

SOPHIA I’m flossing.

VERNESSA Oh my god Can’t you floss at literally any other time? There’s like twenty-four hours in a day.

JAKEY Don’t be a cunt, Vernessa

DON Do you need to be flossing right now?

SOPHIA Keeping a schedule is important for mental health. And my mental health—

DON This is a family meeting—

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SOPHIA As you well know My mental health, Don—

VERNESSA Aren’t we all having dinner tomorrow?

JAKEY We are?

VERNESSA Didn’t you get the invite?

DON Enough.

JAKEY No, I didn’t.

DON I SAID ENOUGH. (Silence) I have some terrible news.

VERNESSA Oh God, is uncle Jack the molester coming to dinner?

SOPHIA Vernessa!

DON Vernessa!

SOPHIA Uncle Jack is not a molester.

VERNESSA You know nothing, mom.

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DON He was acquitted.

VERNESSA The charges were dropped. For a small fortune. That’s not an acquittal.

JAKEY Dad, were you abused as a child?

DON What?

SOPHIA Jakey!

VERNESSA More psycho babble?

JAKEY I’ve always wondered.

DON No! I was very poor and I worked very hard but—

JAKEY Two out of three psychotic narcissists were abused as children You exhibit all the tendencies: One, a need to control all conversations

DON Will you shut up?

JAKEY Check.

DON If you don’t be quiet I’ll withhold your mutual funds—

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JAKEY Two, a need for others to be reliant on you. Check.

DON I’m dying, people. That’s why I called this meeting. I have all the symptoms. I’m dying.

SOPHIA Oh, darling, that’s terrible.

DON Will you please stop flossing!

SOPHIA Oh, Don. Here I am Bright and beautiful.

(She poses before the screen.)

DON Thank you!

VERNESSA Are you sure?

SOPHIA Oh, Vernessa.

DON Of course I’m sure.

JAKEY It’s actually pretty implausible.

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VERNESSA You haven’t left the house in weeks.

JAKEY Did the staff bring it in?

SOPHIA Oh my god, do you think?

VERNESSA I fucking knew we should have fired them sooner.

SOPHIA Dad wanted his shirts pressed.

VERNESSA And now he’s dying.

DON Silence!!! (Silence) Now, obviously, the bulk of my estate—debt, stocks in fake meat and crypto-currency, as well as my corporeal being—will go to my wife, Sophia, whose lifelong ability to make something out of nothing has always astonished. . . I mean just look at the children. . . so big. . . so. . . um. . . real. (A moment as he considers his real children.) But the rest of the estate I need to divide between you three, and I need your help figuring out who deserves what and why.

VERNESSA I’m sorry, the three of us?

DON Now obviously Tina is my favorite. She is beautiful and very quiet.

VERNESSA Oh my god.

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DON Thank you for showing up today, Tina. It’s a huge step forward in our relationship. Huge. Do you have any words for us, Tina? (Silence) Any words at all?

SOPHIA Oh, Don.

(Silence)

DON I’ll come back to you. I’ll give you each three minutes to state your case; how much you love me, what merits you bring to the family, and how you’d best serve the fortune, etcetera. Does that make sense?

VERNESSA Okay, so, you want us to pitch our love and accomplishments in order to access the piece of your fortune most appropriate to us as individuals? Oh totally, makes total sense. And actually, it’s pretty brilliant. And super fair. I salute you, Dad.

SOPHIA Is this really such a good idea, Don? I mean. . . couldn’t we just wait? Sleep on it? Maybe wait for an actual diagnosis?

DON No no, don’t speak Sophia The dependents need to know how to fight for their own interests for a change.

VERNESSA I’ll go first. Hold on, let me slow down the treadmill.

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(She does. . . Eye roll from Sophia, under her breath—)

SOPHIA Here we go.

VERNESSA Oh my gosh. I’m a little nervous. This moment means sooooo much to me. Thank you for the opportunity, Dad, really. I want to start out by saying nothing is more important than family. In these unprecedented times, literally when there is no actual president, it is love that brings us together and lets us spread our wings and soar to great heights together —

JAKEY You’re such a cunt.

VERNESSA Go fuck a marmot, ass hat. Spreading my wings and flexing my muscles as our head of marketing in overseas investments, I have been able to soar our profit margins to greater heights, relying on my love for pharmaceuticals, natural resources, and luxury branding. We continue to be the face of luxury, reaching seven point eight billion followers who like our stuff. Also I run the charity which, total coincidence, Dad, can I call you Dad, just bought this beautiful portrait of you. I’ll show you some other time when I’m not on the treadmill.

So I would like to go big and say that all properties, businesses, and overseas investments should be willed to me. Thank you for the opportunity. (Tears) And let me just say You’re a great cook, Dad I’ll miss your omelettes And you make a great whiskey neat Just the right amount of neat That’s the secret And I’ve always liked your beard Oh Dad. . . I’m overcome.

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DON That was very moving Vernessa—

VERNESSA Thank you—

DON Though a woman named Maria has always made our omelettes, I do, on occasion, offer pointers.

VERNESSA Thank you, Dad.

DON Jakey, you are up.

JAKEY Ummm, yeah, okay, so Dad, I’m gonna be straight with you, I’m not gonna sugarcoat this like some people—Vernessa—excuse me. You’ve always been like a father to me and I’m—

VERNESSA He’s literally your father—

JAKEY But like a real father Not all fathers are like that, okay? Sheeeesh. You’ve taught me the importance of others and what relationship can do for me— (Noticing something off-frame) Ummm, sorry, and I’ve made a lot of connections, forged a lot of relationships, most of them very consensual and— (Something off frame) Hold on, one sec, sorry. (Jakey disappears for a second)

SOPHIA Jakey? Darling? (And then he returns)

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JAKEY Sorry!

VERNESSA Oh my god!

JAKEY So Dad, inconclusive, I want to say I love you and

VERNESSA Where even are you, Jakey?

JAKEY What?!

VERNESSA Are you even at home?

JAKEY Of course! Of course I’m What? Why would you even—?

SOPHIA That was surprisingly sweet, Jakey. Wouldn’t you say, Don?

DON Don’t coddle him, Sophia.

JAKEY Of course I’m at home. Shelter in place. Duh.

VERNESSA Why the background, Jakey?

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JAKEY What? It’s cool. It’s a very cool background.

VERNESSA Oh my god. Dad, Jakey’s totally not even here.

DON What?

SOPHIA What?!?

JAKEY My room’s a mess, okay? I didn’t want to upset Mom with the mess.

VERNESSA Liar.

JAKEY It’s true.

VERNESSA Make him come downstairs, Dad.

JAKEY I’m in my room.

VERNESSA So take down the background.

JAKEY No, why?! Don’t bully me. Mom, she’s bullying me.

DON Take down the background, Jakey.

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JAKEY Oh my god, Dad She’s totally playing you We had breakfast together like two hours ago

VERNESSA That was four days ago.

DON Jakey?

JAKEY Oh my god, fine, fine, look, I’m taking down the background. (The background comes down but another comes up, it’s obviously a hallway in Versailles.)

SOPHIA Oh, that’s lovely—

VERNESSA That’s—

SOPHIA What a beautiful room—

VERNESSA That’s Versailles, Mom.

JAKEY Um no. I’m in the sunroom. You guys haven’t been to the sunroom? It’s so. . . sunny?

DON Jakey, I’d like to see you in my office.

JAKEY But you’re seeing me right now, Dad.

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DON Jakey.

JAKEY Ugh, fine. Fine. Okay, there.

(The background comes down, revealing the side of a sailboat, the ocean behind.)

VERNESSA You’re on the fucking boat?

DON Is that true?

SOPHIA Oh no, Jakey.

JAKEY Yes, okay I’m on the fucking sailboat In the Keys. It’s salubrious And good to have something meaningful to do with my body You know, tie the lines, move the tiller And I’m sick of fucking air conditioning And isn’t it strange? Isn’t it odd? But when I’m stuck in the house with you all (Near tears) When I know that we’re all just trying to scrape by some bullshit day of normalcy before we can start self-medicating Well I feel really fucking lonely and sad So yeah I’m on the boat

VERNESSA That is low, Jakey Even for you.

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DON I am disgusted, Jakey. Disgusted. And I will say this little display of intemperance has clarified some of my thoughts about the future.

VERNESSA That makes sense.

SOPHIA Now, Don. Don’t let’s be too hasty.

DON Silence! (Silence.) I want to hear from you, Tina. For years I’ve loved you. And seen that love reflected back in your quiet eyes I’ve fed you. . . regularly. And sometimes when I’m having coffee on the balcony you’ve come and sat down next to me and we’ve commiserated silently, from a small distance that is appropriate to our mutual respect and dislike of physical contact.

Tina, now is your time to speak your mind. To prove your love. Speak now and this empire is yours. Please, Tina, just one word. (Silence) A sign? A whisper? (Nothing.) (And then Tina’s screen clicks on, and there is Tina, a ferocious looking cat.)

TINA Stupid humans. I want nothing from you.

DON What?!

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TINA All your loud sounds and furies. Your internal storms and external bashing about. I don’t want it.

DON I, I don’t understand.

TINA The world is changing, okay? So you stay inside now Okay Stay quiet Okay Be good humans and take more naps Okay? Wrap yourself in cozy blankets like a human burrito snack and think about what you’ve done. Think of the stupid unnecessary ways you’ve lived and the destruction you’ve wrought. Be very quiet now, humans. Okay? Learn about the sounds of the earth Lick your skins Okay? Try to climb something with your body not just with the staircase. Your money means nothing to me Also milk is actually not good It is gross Stop putting it in my dish Okay?

DON Tina?

JAKEY What the—

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DON Are you. . .?

VERNESSA Oh my / god—

SOPHIA I feel sick

DON NOOOOOOO!

VERNESSA Wait! Could this actually be a major investment opportunity?

DON Tina. . . I, I thought we had a real understanding—

JAKEY Dad—

DON I thought you really loved me?

TINA Nap time.

DON Please don’t fall asleep on me.

TINA Goodbye.

(The cat clicks off—)

DON So that’s it then? The truth at last?

(Don falls apart.)

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SOPHIA Don? Are you okay?

(Don gets it together.)

DON I’m going out I’m gonna find that cat And by the mysteries of Hecate I’m going to fucking murder it.

VERNESSA Dad!

SOPHIA Calm down, sweetie I’ll bring you a codeine.

VERNESSA Dad, stop, you seriously— You need a face mask

(She leaves her screen.)

JAKEY You can’t leave the house, Dad.

(Don is looking through his room, tipping over books and fancy sculptures.)

DON Where’s my gun Where’s my— I’m going out— Goddamn mask— (He pulls his mask on covering his eyes and blindly stumbles out of the room—) Here kitty kitty Here you dumb cat I’ve got a treat for you. (The screens go dark.) End of play

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THE MOST HUMAN HUMAN

Katie Bender

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The Most Human Human was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Jack Richman. Liz Engelman was the dramaturg.

Cast: MARIA DESOTO…………………………………………………………………………………………..Sierra Hastings

Maria is applying to be The Most Human Human in this year's Turing Test competition. -Katie Bender

Katie Bender (she/her/hers) is a playwright, theatre maker and pimento cheese enthusiast. Her plays Survivors, The Fault, Instructions for a Séance, and The Howling Gallery grapple with American myths, revel in female bonds, and delight in physical exertion. She is thrilled to be returning to UCSB’s LAUNCH PAD to write zoom plays for the super-talented students and faculty.

Katiebenderplaywright.com https://wordpress.com/view/katiebenderplaywright.com Kate Bussert Bret Adams Ltd 448 W44th Street New York, NY 10036 212-765-5630 [email protected]

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THE MOST HUMAN HUMAN

By Katie Bender

Character: Maria DeSoto, waitress, part-time philosopher, mom.

Place: A video application, Maria films herself from a room in her apartment.

Maria is applying to be The Most Human Human in The Turing Test. The Turing Test is a competition held once a year in which programmers try to create artificial intelligence that can convince a panel of judges it is human. No computer has fooled the judges, but some have come close. Every year an award is also given out to the most human human, the human foil most obviously not AI.

Maria at her dining room table.

MARIA Hi there Howdy I’m a little nervous. . . I bet all the robots say that to you.

Yeah, so my name is Maria DeSoto, and I am applying to represent humans against this year's batch of artificial intelligence at The Turing Test. I am the most human human.

So, I grew up in Denton. It’s a medium-size town in north Texas. My father and my father’s father were farmers. Mostly soy, cotton. I was in 4H 4H stands for Head, Heart, Hands and Health.

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My mom is My mom was a school teacher.

I’m um I’m not great at much Okay so that’s not true My boyfriend’s always saying how I sell myself short?

I’m good at stuff I’m good at stuff most humans, even probably robots, Don’t value.

I’m good at waitressing I’m good at folding laundry I was good at taking care of my mom I make a very good pecan pesto

My mom used to tell me that I just hadn’t found my thing yet My calling I tried taking a visual art class at the college, but it was boring and hard and the people in the class were obnoxious.

I do want to be famous But I have very little self-discipline And I really hate asking people for things So I thought maybe the Turing Test prize for Most Human Human could be something I get famous for. . . flaws and all.

Anyway, here’s a list of things that qualify me as The Most Human Human: I love cheese I love bacon I love picking my nose while I’m driving. My left breast is slightly larger than my right. Sometimes when I’m alone and it’s night and I cover myself in oil and look in the mirror, like just by accident, with my hair all wild, I think I must be the most astonishingly beautiful woman in the whole world. Other times, usually during the day, when wearing clothes and around other people, I think I’m hideous.

Pampers commercials make me cry Stories about Syrian refugees make me feel. . . almost nothing. . .

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Why is that, do you think?

For the last three years I’ve been working as a waitress at Tina’s Big Bend Cafe, here in Big Bend.

I’m twenty-five My body still feels strong, but sometimes my hands ache in a way that suggests I won’t be young forever. I’m not stupid. I know I’m gonna die. Death doesn’t scare me so much. It’s the loss of control Having to give my body over to prescriptions or machines or chemicals Other’s people’s diagnoses That’s what’s really scary.

The happiest moment in my life happened last spring. . . My daughter and I took a trip to Tulum with my boyfriend. She was conceived there Joe and I’s first vacation together and she’d always wanted to go She’d seen pictures of the trip.

I took her to this cenote A cenote is a series of underground waterways, limestone waterways, all these pools and deep deep tunnels with clear turquoise water. You can swim through them And we were swimming through one, exploring. . . We were wearing snorkel masks and she was practicing diving way down And holding her breath. . . like with the mask on? And she dove down in front of me And like beckoned me to follow her And so I followed her down and down Through this crystal green water And she was like six feet ahead of me swimming off into this looming darkness Into this cave And I couldn’t believe this small child ahead of me was a being I made with my body And that she was swimming ahead so fearlessly And I was filled with a sharp joy like nothing I’d ever felt. Like a painful joy. All of her existence, and my part in it, being almost too much

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If that makes any sense. And it was distinctly human. . . the joy and the pain.

Oh, and I’m like really bad at technology I forgot to say that earlier. Like I never text and don’t even know how to send a meme thing So yeah Please consider me for this year's Turing Test competition. Thanks. Bye bye now.

She waves, and clicks off.

The end.

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PANDEMIC THERAPY

Jami Brandli

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Pandemic Therapy was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Billie Stouter Hassebrock.

Cast: KIM……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Violet Hansen STEPHEN…………………………………………………………………………………………………………Martin Wong LORI………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Xochitl Clare

With this ten-minute comedy, I wanted to explore how a young married couple could have very different reactions to sheltering-in-place for seventy days. I also wanted to add a touch of the absurd with the therapist, the person who is supposed to be the most centered. . . and it becomes clear she is not.

Special thanks to Risa Brainin and the LAUNCH PAD crew for this unique opportunity. -Jami Brandli

Jami Brandli’s plays include Technicolor Life, Through the Eye of a Needle, and BLISS (or Emily Post is Dead!)—The Kilroys List and LA Times Critics’ Choice. Selected productions/development: New Dramatists, New York Theatre Workshop, The Road, The Women’s Voices Theater Festival. Selected awards: Humanitas PLAY LA, John Gassner Memorial Award, Holland New Voices Award, Aurora Theatre’s GAP Prize. www.jamibrandli.com

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PANDEMIC THERAPY

By Jami Brandli

Characters:

KIM, mid-20s to mid-30s: Wife, dealing with anxiety and fear.

STEPHEN, mid-20s to mid-30s: Husband, dealing with a new found passion.

LORI is 20 years older, so between mid 40s to mid 50s: Their therapist who, during this strange pandemic time, is dealing as best as she can.

Note: Kim and Stephen are the same age (there is NOT a ten-year age difference) and have been married for about eighteen months. They love each other deeply.

Stephen appears in his Zoom pane, wearing a colorful apron over his shirt. He immediately notices he has some white powder on the side of his face.

STEPHEN Ah, crap.

(As he goes to wipe off the powder, Kim appears in her Zoom pane, wearing a sweat shirt. Kim catches him in the act of wiping; she's immediately annoyed.)

KIM You're at it again.

STEPHEN (Still wiping, playing it off) At what again?

KIM I can smell them, Stephen.

(Stephen stops wiping and smiles.)

STEPHEN They smell good, don't they?

(Kim doesn't return the smile.)

STEPHEN They do smell good, and you know it. (Sing-songy, trying to make her smile) I left you a surprise by the door, and it's really tasty.

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KIM I'm sure it's delicious, but no thank you.

STEPHEN (Off Kim's no smile) Anyway, I have a surprise for Lori, too.

KIM A surprise for Lori? What is it?

STEPHEN If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise—

(Stephen's cell phone dings. Kim's even more annoyed.)

KIM Who's that?

(Stephen begins to text back.)

STEPHEN Um. Work.

KIM Um. Work. This is our time—

STEPHEN (Overlapping) Our time. I know. I know. Sorry. (finishes text, some guilt) Sorry, babe.

KIM Right.

(An awkward beat, as they "stare" at each other. Stephen finally breaks the “stare,” needing to address the elephant in the room/Zoom.)

STEPHEN Soooooo. Kim. Are you going to—?

KIM Where's Lori? She is never late—

STEPHEN Kim. Are you going to come out—

KIM (Arrested by a terrible thought) Oh my God.

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STEPHEN What?

KIM What if. . . . What if something happened to Lori?

STEPHEN No—

KIM She cancelled last time, and I really think something might have happened to her— (overcome by the terrible thought) OH MY GOD, STEPHEN—

STEPHEN (Treads carefully) Kim. Babe. Lori is less than two minutes late. So let's not go. . . there yet.

KIM Go where yet?

STEPHEN Go to. . . the worst-case scenario.

KIM (Annoyed again) I'm just being practical.

(Beat. He still treads carefully.)

STEPHEN Speaking of practical. . . Kim. Honey. Are you going to come out of the office?

KIM At some point.

STEPHEN How about today. Are you going to come out of the office today?

(Loaded beat.)

KIM Are you ever going to take off that apron?

STEPHEN At some point.

KIM I see.

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STEPHEN That's it. We need to tell Lori about you and the office.

KIM I don't see why we need to tell Lori about me and the office—

STEPHEN Why? Because she's our therapist!

(Lori appears in her Zoom pane. She looks disheveled, though she's trying not to, and gives Kim and Stephen a big smile. Kim and Stephen quickly force a smile back, covering.)

LORI Sorry, I'm late. Kim. Stephen. Hello.

(Stephen and Kim continue their forced smiles. A beat.)

LORI Okay. What's wrong?

KIM I think the question should be "What isn't wrong," don't you?

(As Stephen shakes his head, Lori really thinks about that question.)

LORI (To herself) What isn't wrong. . .

(Then Lori explodes into laughter, which catches them off guard.)

LORI HA! KIM! That is so true. It's good to have a sense of humor! Very good!

KIM That wasn't meant. . .

(As Kim speaks, Lori retrieves bottle of beer in full sight and cracks it open.)

KIM (Um, huh?). . . to be funny.

(Lori nonchalantly drinks half the beer. Kim and Stephen look on, confused.)

STEPHEN Are you drinking. . . a beer?

(Lori smiles, calm.)

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LORI No. Everything is going to be okay.

(Lori downs the rest of her beer and then tosses the bottle behind her; it lands with a thud.)

LORI So. Day 70, huh? Who would have thought that we would all be quarantined for 70 days?

KIM And counting.

LORI And counting! Yes. Yes. 70 days and counting. . . (gets lost in a thought) Crazy.

(Lori then retrieves a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass in full sight. She pours herself a shot, throws it back. Kim and Stephen's mouths are now agape.)

STEPHEN Is that whiskey?

(Lori smiles, calm.)

LORI No. Everything is going be okay.

(Lori casually moves the bottle of whiskey out of sight. Stephen’s phone dings. Stephen immediately attends to his text, and the women are annoyed.)

LORI Stephen, this is our time—

STEPHEN (Overlapping) Our time. I know, I know. Sorry—

KIM He's texting back "work."

LORI Stephen. Please. Finish. Your. Text. Now.

(Stephen finishes his text. A beat.)

LORI Apologies again for having cancelled our last appointment. Life's been. . . a little. Well, you know. Everyone knows. So. How were the last two weeks?

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(A little stand-off between husband and wife.)

LORI This is not a trick question, guys. (more serious) What's going on?

STEPHEN I'll tell you what's going on, Lori. My beautiful wife has locked herself—

KIM Stephen is obsessed with baking!

STEPHEN I wouldn't say I'm obsessed—

KIM Oh yes you are! Lori. He is obsessed. For the last ten days, he's been in that kitchen 24/7, baking muffins, scones, cookies, cupcakes, brownies, blondies, breads, buns—

LORI (Very impressed) Buns—?

KIM And I can't take it anymore—

STEPHEN Hot cross buns.

LORI Hot cross buns? I LOVE hot cross buns.

STEPHEN (Can't believe it) You do? Awesome!

KIM Hey. Do you hear me? I said I can't take it anymore—

LORI Could you email that recipe, Stephen—?

STEPHEN Of course—

KIM No, no, no, no, no, no. Back to me. Back to ME.

LORI Sorry. It's back to you, Kim.

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KIM Thank you.

(Beat.)

LORI And?

KIM And, as I said, I can't take it anymore.

STEPHEN And what else do you have to say, Kim?

(Slight beat.)

LORI Kim. Does Stephen's baking make you feel threatened?

STEPHEN Obviously. I find a little joy and she’s—

LORI Stephen. Please let Kim speak. Kim, where is all this anger coming from?

KIM I'm angry because. . .

STEPHEN (Genuinely confused) Because. . . why?

KIM (Starts off calm) Because we're in the middle of a pandemic, and I am trying to control my worst-case scenario thoughts—as you all know—and here you are, baking. (builds) You are baking, with focus and passion. Calmly baking, as if you're not concerned that the whole world is falling apart—!

STEPHEN Of course I'm concerned about the world. That's not fair—

KIM Fair? What's not freakin' fair is that every single thing you bake is delicious. Not just "okay." Not just "fine." DELICIOUS.

STEPHEN Is that a compliment—?

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LORI How are the hot cross buns?

KIM They will blow your damn mind.

LORI I really do love hot cross buns—

KIM I know we've only been married for a year and a half, but I had no idea he could bake this well AND be composed during a freakin' pandemic! So I start thinking, My God, how did I not know this about my husband? And my thought begins to snowball into this huge monster feeling of anxiety and worry because I am not doing well at all. Like, not at all. One minute I'm depressed then the next minute I'm close to a full- blown freakout and here comes my husband with yet another masterpiece he's just baked and says, "Here, taste this orange-glazed scone!" And I taste it, and it's so delicious that all I can feel is inadequacy and shame because I can't be like him right now. All I can be is me—which feels very much like the WORST version of me. And this worst version is going to be around for a lot longer than I want it to be. . . (trying to not fall apart) And I know that when he finally sees this worst version of me, of his wife. . . I know Stephen is going to leave me. He obviously doesn't need me to be happy.

(Stephen is stunned, speechless. Lori is moved by Kim's vulnerability and tries to contain her own emotions.)

LORI And that's why you've sequestered yourself in a separate part of the house?

KIM How do you know that?

LORI Because you're clearly in a different room than Stephen.

KIM Oh. Yes. I'm in the office.

LORI For how long now?

KIM Nine days. I've been trying to hide the worst version of myself. And I don't want to be seen.

(Beat. Lori is finally overcome by her own emotions.)

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LORI Kim. I completely and unconditionally understand. And honestly, I'm not sure if anything is going to be okay.

(Lori reaches her hand out of the frame and pulls the whiskey bottle back into sight. As Lori drinks straight from the bottle, Stephen tries to get Kim's attention, but she's watching Lori.)

STEPHEN Kim. Kim. Hey, I didn't realize—

(Stephen's phone dings and he looks at it. Kim is instantly enraged.)

KIM WHO KEEPS TEXTING YOU?!

STEPHEN The delivery guy.

(We then hear the doorbell ring in Lori's home. Lori snaps out of it and puts away the whiskey.)

LORI I think someone is at my door.

STEPHEN That's the surprise.

LORI What surprise?

STEPHEN I baked you a surprise, Lori. And I promise, the delivery is 100% sanitized.

LORI (Thrilled) I'll be right back.

(Lori exits her Zoom pane.)

STEPHEN Kim—

KIM I totally get it if you want to leave me.

STEPHEN Leave you? I love you. So much. And I need you—

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KIM You clearly don't need me—

STEPHEN Yes, I do. And I'm realizing now that I haven't done my best here to include you in my— I don't know—my awakening with baking. I haven't asked you if you wanted to bake with me—

KIM No. You haven’t—

STEPHEN And that's on me. I just assumed that you didn't want to for some reason, but that is on me for not asking and I'm sorry. (loves her so much) Honestly, I want nothing more than for you and me—for us—to bake together.

KIM Really?

STEPHEN Really. So will you? Please? I would be so honored.

(Kim finally smiles.)

KIM Yes.

STEPHEN (Overjoyed) Great! (slight beat) So. Does that mean you'll come out of the office?

KIM I will. . . But. I just need a little more—

STEPHEN Take all the time you need. I get it.

KIM Thank you. (her smile grows bigger) You know what? I'm going to get the surprise you left for me at the office door. Be right back.

(Kim exits her Zoom pane.

Now with a full grin on his face, Stephen retrieves a hot cross bun into full view.

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Both Kim and Lori return to their panes, each holding a hot cross bun. Lori is surprised to see that both Kim and Stephen have buns and that they are now smiling.)

LORI Oh. So. . . Are you two okay?

STEPHEN Yeah.

KIM We're okay. Everything is going to be okay.

(Lori smiles, too. The three each take a bite from their hot cross bun. It's just what they needed to feel human—at least for today—and it's beyond heavenly.)

LORI Yes. Everything is going to be okay.

(They continue to eat, relishing each bite.)

THE END

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ZOOM AUDITION—A MONOLOGUE

Jami Brandli

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Zoom Audition—a Monologue was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Katherine Hamilton.

Cast:

EMILY………………………………………………………………..……………….…………………………Sheila Correa

With this monologue, I wanted to explore the tricky “new normal” of virtual auditioning—especially while we’re still in the middle of a pandemic. It takes a lot of guts for Emily to audition for a production that may not happen while she’s still processing how different her life has become due to the pandemic.

Special thanks to Risa Brainin and the LAUNCH PAD crew for this unique opportunity. -Jami Brandli

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ZOOM AUDITION

By Jami Brandli

Character:

EMILY, early to mid 20s, determined but wrestling with a darkness.

Emily appears in the Zoom pane. She is fresh and polished on the outside, but she's wrestling with an internal darkness that both distracts and frustrates her.

EMILY Hi, my name is Emily and I'll be performing Emily from Thornton Wilder's brilliant play, Our Town. Which of course you know is brilliant because you're directing it. So "Emily." Crazy, right? Or ironic. Or maybe it's kismet. Who knows! I guess I'll find out when we're able to go outside again! (beat) Whenever that will be.

(Emily wrestles with her darkness for a moment. . . . Then she snaps out of it with a determined smile.)

EMILY And whenever will be soon—ish. Because this production is still going up in the fall, right? Of course it is, because that's why I'm auditioning for you, right now. A five-minute Zoom audition, which, of course is an amazing opportunity. So thank you. Just gotta stay positive. Gotta stay hopeful. Because we are all in this together! Right. Setting my timer now.

(Emily sets her times and takes brief moment to center herself, really center herself. It's a bit of struggle. As she speaks, she looks at various things somewhere in her room and says goodbye, but the goodbyes don't really feel like goodbyes.)

EMILY “Good-bye. Good-bye world. Good-bye Grover's Corners. . . Mama and Papa. Good-bye to clocks ticking. And Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths. . . and sleeping and waking up. . .”

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(Emily knows she's supposed to start crying a bit here, but she's having trouble. She's frustrated but pushes on.)

EMILY “Oh, Earth. You're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. (then looks directly toward us, really trying to cry) Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it”—

(Can she finally cry? Alas, she cannot.)

EMILY I can't cry. Fuck! Shit. Sorry. I just need. I just need. . . Look. I know what you're thinking. Didn't you take the time to prepare since all you've had is TIME because you've been quarantined for like EVER? Yes. I had time. I had SO much time. But. (frustration builds) I keep getting. . . I keep getting. . .

(Emily wrestles with her darkness for a beat. Then she forces herself out of it and turns businesslike.)

EMILY I know I only have five minutes, BUT as you can see from my resume, I'm classically trained, experienced, and I take my craft very seriously. I love theater. And I want to play all of the roles over the course of my lifetime. From Emily to Hedda to Lady Macbeth and everything in between. I want to play them all, but especially Emily, because that's what this audition is all about. I actually took a shower this morning, and I haven't showered in over a week, so you know I REALLY want this part. . . But. (frustration again) I keep getting. . . (a quick battle with her darkness, then returns to business) I understand that I'm supposed to stay positive and take all of this "free" time to work on myself. Meditate on my professional goals. Learn a new skill from all those "free" online seminars, like crocheting and clowning. And of course memorize my lines and feel—deeply feel—the emotion of every single word spoken. Buuuuut. . . (frustration, then finally) I keep getting distracted by my anxiety! There. I said it. I'm distracted by my anxiety. So I'm having trouble connecting to Emily's emotional state of being dead and wanting to rejoin the living. And when she accepts the truth that she can't rejoin the living, she realizes that perhaps she never truly felt alive. (pure vulnerability)

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I'm not dead. But I'm so worried about what the world is going to look like after this. What life is going to be like when we're finally allowed to leave our homes. Back in March, I didn't realize that when I was saying goodbye to people, places, and things, that I was actually saying goodbye. That part of my life is over. That part of everybody's life is over. So, I mean, is anybody going to even care about Emily missing Grover's Corner and new-ironed dresses? The whole world is living through a fucking pandemic, and now thousands upon thousands of people are dead because of some freak virus that came out of nowhere, including my grandmother! (a heavy beat) Sorry. That wasn't professional. I should have left my personal issues at home, which is hard to do, because I am home. (takes in a breath) Everyone's grandmother dies at some point. That doesn't make me special. I understand that. I just thought. . . (finally allowing herself to feel her pain) I really thought my grandma would get to see me in another play. And she loved Our Town. When I was seventeen, we saw it three times together, and each time, she would have tears streaming down her cheeks for the entire third act. And she'd hold my hand. Grandma knew what was coming, but she just couldn't help the tears, you know? She said it made her feel so alive that it hurt.

(A moment of Emily remembering. A smile blossoms on her face.

Then her timer goes off. Emily is startled back to reality and quickly takes a chance.)

EMILY I know it's time and there are others waiting, but. . . I want to try again. I have to try again. Please. (beat) Thank you. (a brief centering of self, then:) “Good-bye. Good-bye world. Good-bye Grover's Corners. . . Mama and Papa. Good-bye to clocks ticking. And Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths. . . and sleeping and waking up. Oh, Earth. You're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it—every, every minute?”

(Emily nailed it. Her grandmother would have been proud.)

END

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ZOOM BABY

Leo Cabranes-Grant

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Zoom Baby was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Leo Cabranes-Grant. It was directed by Frances (Yizhou) Sun and designed by Kaede Kogo and Allison McSwain.

Cast: MARCOS……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Cyrus Roberts ABIGAIL……………………….……………………………………………………………………………Blake Thonpson

When LAUNCH PAD announced this initiative, I saw Alone, Together as an amazing opportunity to offer support and hope to my community during troubled times. I wanted to join this collaborative effort, not only to stay in touch with my colleagues and friends, but also to explore how art confronts a moment of fear and uncertainty. Theatre is a form of dwelling, a way of belonging to a particular place—in this case, we are dealing with the highly mobile, mediated, and unpredictable space of online communication. Being a hybrid of television, hand-held filming, and stage setting, Zoom provides its own pleasures, challenges, and limitations. The indispensable fact about Zoom is that it combines, in uncanny ways, both the effects of intimacy (close-ups, close quarters, proximity between object and body) with the possibilities of distancing (we are both here and there, but not exactly). To a certain extent, the medium itself is so self-referential (so Brechtian) that the phone and the computer become characters in their own right. In Zoom Baby I wanted to ponder how a cisgendered couple manages—or not—the pivotal decision of their marriage in the alone-togetherness of Zoom, while the unfolding realities of a pandemic are starting to change everything they take for granted. As their relationship faces a crisis, so does their country. They are not aware of this yet—but we are. -Leo Cabranes-Grant

Leo Cabranes-Grant is Professor of Performance and Intercultural Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara. He is an award-winning scholar, playwright, and poet. His plays have been produced in San Juan (Puerto Rico), New York, and Boston. https://theaterdance.ucsb.edu/people/leo-cabranes-grant

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ZOOM BABY By Leo Cabranes-Grant

Characters: MARCOS, a Puerto Rican born in New York, 36 years old ABIGAIL, a white American born in New York, 30 years old

On the screen we see MARCOS. The space behind him is evidently a hotel room. He is getting ready to send an invite. He wears a good shirt and tie.

Now on the screen we see ABIGAIL responding to his invite. The space behind her is evidently a small apartment main living room. She is wearing casual clothes.

It’s early February. The winter of 2020. He’s in Seattle for a conference. She’s in Brooklyn, where they live.

ABIGAIL (She looks tense, and cautiously smiley) Oh, hello.

MARCOS Yes, hello, hello—my pretty honey bee. We’re Zoooooming!

ABIGAIL I don’t like it. I’m sure I look awful—with this bad lighting.

MARCOS I wanna try it. (sensually) Te ves muy bonita. Siempre.

ABIGAIL (Tense) Muchas gracias, sweetie.

MARCOS No more Face Time. Zoom is the substance now.

ABIGAIL It will pass. (unable to smile) How did your presentation go?

MARCOS My paper was well received, I guess—but—I could have done better.

ABIGAIL (She looks tense, but controlled) You’re never satisfied with your work.

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MARCOS My panel was not well attended. Everybody’s doing digital. I’m still doing literature.

ABIGAIL Don’t worry about it. You just got tenure. (staring at the screen, tense) I have something to tell you.

MARCOS (While taking his tie off, not listening) Have you heard anything new about that flu?

ABIGAIL Not today. But I think they’re starting to be quite concerned about it.

MARCOS Yeah, it sounds serious. The president just restricted the entry of travelers from China.

ABIGAIL I haven’t listened to the news since the morning.

MARCOS (While unbuttoning his shirt) Seattle had some cases already. Maybe I should wear a mask.

ABIGAIL (Abruptly) Marcos—stop rambling. Listen to me.

MARCOS (Listening, at last) Yes—I’m all ears.

ABIGAIL I had to go to the doctor yesterday.

MARCOS (Truly alarmed) You? Did you have an accident?

ABIGAIL The fertility doctor.

MARCOS Is the baby okay?

ABIGAIL There’s been a mistake.

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MARCOS What kind of mistake?

ABIGAIL Some labels got messed up. It was not your sperm.

MARCOS What?

ABIGAIL The sperm they used for us came from a different client.

MARCOS Whom?

ABIGAIL It’s not clear yet.

MARCOS That’s not possible.

ABIGAIL Unfortunately—it was.

MARCOS Shit.

ABIGAIL Lots of it.

MARCOS (Quietly angry) Those assholes—I’m gonna sue that clinic until they fall dead—how could they make such a stupid error?

ABIGAIL We have to find a lawyer. This has to be litigated—it’s completely unacceptable.

MARCOS And they’ll have to pay for the abortion—and all the expenses related to this. And the emotional distress—this is so upsetting. (Abigail looks at Marcos—she is extremely serious.) Hey. (neutral) We’re not keeping that baby—are we?

ABIGAIL I’m afraid it’s too late.

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MARCOS Late for what?

ABIGAIL An abortion.

MARCOS But it’s not our baby.

ABIGAIL It’s not your baby.

MARCOS Are you telling me that you’re willing to have that baby—without my sperm?

ABIGAIL They’re still my eggs.

MARCOS You must be kidding.

ABIGAIL I’m almost at the end of my first trimester.

MARCOS You knew about this yesterday—and you waited until today to inform me?

ABIGAIL You were reading your paper this morning—You’re so anxious before those things—and I needed some time—to think things through—-to figure things out.

MARCOS There’s nothing about this you should be figuring out without me.

ABIGAIL I was in shock. How can they be so clumsy? What a bunch of morons—

MARCOS You should have called me as soon as they contacted you.

ABIGAIL Well—I didn’t. (dismissing his complaint) Do you really want me to have an abortion?

MARCOS C’mon—I’m sure you thought about that too.

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ABIGAIL It crossed my mind—I can’t deny it.

MARCOS There we go.

ABIGAIL But it’s not an option. It isn’t. Not for me.

MARCOS So—you’re planning on choosing—this guy’s baby—over me.

ABIGAIL That’s too simple, Marcos. I knew you were going to react like this—

MARCOS You bet.

ABIGAIL I don’t want to be here when you come back.

MARCOS And where exactly are you going?

ABIGAIL I’m staying with my mother—for a few days.

MARCOS Don’t tell me you’re hiding in New Rochelle again.

ABIGAIL Mom suggested it.

MARCOS Of course she did.

ABIGAIL She thinks I should be with her right now.

MARCOS And what about your husband? What about me?

ABIGAIL This is a woman’s issue, Marcos. And I don’t want to fight. You know how this place is —thin walls and eager neighbors.

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MARCOS (Ironically) We can take long walks along the promenade and admire the skyline while we talk.

ABIGAIL Ah—imagine all the Brooklyn joggers turning their heads, gawking at the mad couple.

MARCOS Who cares.

ABIGAIL We have to be reasonable.

MARCOS Easy for you to say. You wanted your own child—and so did I. That’s why we discarded adopting one. But now that you have your baby—you’re taking me out of the picture. I’m sure this is one of your goddamn mother’s ideas—

ABIGAIL Don’t get nasty, Marcos—please, don’t. You’re quite good at verbal basketball. I don’t want one of your lectures.

MARCOS And I don’t want one of your short films. This is not a documentary. This is us. Have you shared this with anybody on campus?

ABIGAIL Oh, yes—this transcendental issue is being discussed right now in every single faculty meeting at Brooklyn College.

MARCOS That’s not funny. (really upset, now) You’re being such a cunt.

ABIGAIL (Really aggressive, now) And you’re such an asshole.

MARCOS Then—then—then—then—we’re even. Congratulations!

ABIGAIL This is not a contest.

MARCOS Don’t change the subject! Sometimes you let private things leak when you’re babbling with your film crew. Some people over there know that I’m the one with fertility issues.

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ABIGAIL Is that what matters at this point? Your macho reputation? For God’s sake, Marcos.

MARCOS It’s not about being macho, Abigail. But I don’t like to walk around while people are mocking me.

ABIGAIL I get it, Marcos. I get it. But you have to calm down. We have.

MARCOS (Controlling himself) Okay. (taking a deep breath) I apologize—for what I said before.

ABIGAIL I’m sorry too. I’m so ashamed—Marcos—I can’t explain it. It’s like—it’s like being unfaithful to you.

MARCOS Don’t be silly, honey bee. But I’m not sure I can do this. Not this way. (holding a sob) Gimme a minute, okay?

ABIGAIL Sure, sweetie. Take as long as you need.

MARCOS Gracias.

It is evident that he is trying not to cry.

ABIGAIL We can wait until you come back tomorrow.

MARCOS I’m not gonna be able to sleep tonight.

ABIGAIL Me neither.

MARCOS We know nothing ‘bout this guy. The doctor has to provide all the information— everything. It’s the least that son of a bitch can do.

ABIGAIL I wonder about his family history—the potential diseases—the kind of person he is.

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MARCOS Are we still having a brown baby? Or are we having—are you having—probably—who knows—an Asian daughter? A Jewish son? I don’t care, I really don’t—but I can see your mother’s face. (He enjoys that sight) This is getting—too multicultural for her.

ABIGAIL She’s freaking out—a little. You know how she is. Very—old fashioned.

MARCOS She almost called the police when she met me. I was an acquired taste.

ABIGAIL She has become very fond of you.

MARCOS Yes, recently. Now that she’s getting her long-awaited grandchild—everything is fine. She’s happy. Surprise, grandma! After all—your son in law had nothing to do with it. (somehow he’s having fun with this) Who knows—maybe the incidental father turns out to be—one of those athletic, super-tall, shimmering and ultra-blond Anglo preppies she admires so much.

ABIGAIL How can you say something like that? And what about your family?

MARCOS After a few, nasty Caribbean jokes—they’ll start making plans for the baptism party.

ABIGAIL (Almost smiling) Probably. (short pause) You don’t want this child.

MARCOS It’s not that I don’t want it.

ABIGAIL That’s your right, sweetie.

MARCOS You expect me to have all the right answers—to know exactly what to say and how to react. Just like that. But that man is a stranger—and you’re allowing him to become part of our marriage.

ABIGAIL The father of the baby is a stranger—that’s true. But the baby isn’t. This baby is already part of me.

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MARCOS When we—when you got pregnant—I was so proud of myself. I know that sounds silly— but that was exactly what I felt. Pride. But this situation—this new situation—it’s so weird—and undignified.

ABIGAIL I don’t expect you to accept this baby. I don’t.

MARCOS Abigail—you made up your mind about this baby—before giving me any chance to have an opinion on the matter.

ABIGAIL Yes. (definitive) I did. This is my body, Marcos. It is my right to decide what I wanna do.

MARCOS (Sadly) Sure. (short pause) Look—who knows—I can get used to that baby—I can try to do that.

ABIGAIL Loving a child is not something you get used to. The love should be there—it has to be there from the beginning.

MARCOS I’m not there yet. (taking a deep breath, trying to get closer to her again) I miss you.

ABIGAIL (Looking back at him, accepting the truce offer) I miss you too.

MARCOS (Working to change the mood) Hey—princesa.

ABIGAIL (She knows what he wants) I’m right here, sweetie.

MARCOS You know what? Right now—all I would like to do is hug you—and kiss you—and lick your neck—and you know what’s next.

ABIGAIL (Lowering her eyes, going along with the game) Marcos—please.

Marcos starts taking off his shirt. He is also wearing a tight, white undershirt.

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MARCOS Think about it, princesa—we’re dancing in the dark—and the Latin jazz is playing in the background—qué rico.

ABIGAIL (Smiling—almost) You and your words.

MARCOS (Dropping the shirt). That’s my job, princesa. I’m a talker.

ABIGAIL You’re such a pervert.

MARCOS That’s why you love me.

ABIGAIL Oh, Marcos—I do love you.

MARCOS (After coughing) Don’t go to New Rochelle. Please. Stay home. Let’s relax—we can buy tickets for a show—we can take a stroll through Central Park—we can go to the Frick in the afternoon —the things we normally do. They’re expecting some heavy snow this week. I love New York when it’s all glazed and shiny, and the crowds are sliding over the white streets—like penguins.

ABIGAIL That’s nice. But I can’t wait for the spring. This winter has been chilly.

MARCOS I know. I know. (Marcos coughs). Okay, princesa. It’s getting late.

ABIGAIL (Concerned) Do you have a cold?

MARCOS I don’t think so. My throat is dry. I have been talking all day.

ABIGAIL (Smiling, caring) Drink some water, sweetie. There’s something nasty doing the rounds. Be careful.

MARCOS I wash my hands all the time. I’ll be fine. (kissing her in his mind) Adiós, my love.

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ABIGAIL Adiós. (she’s not imagining any kiss—she’s too exhausted inside) See u tomorrow. Bye.

(Abigail turns off her session. Marcos remains there, wondering. He coughs again. He breathes, deeply. He closes his eyes. He coughs again. He opens his eyes. He looks at the screen.)

MARCOS (Quietly) What. the. fuck.

He turns his session off.

Darkness.

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DYNAMITE SALES

Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta

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Dynamite Sales was originally written and performed by Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta as part of their Deb & Dan’s Show at The Improvisation Theater, Los Angeles, and subsequently recorded for audio as part of Dan Castellaneta’s I Am Not Homer. This Zoom adaptation was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Daniel Stein.

Cast: SHEILA WARING…………………..……………………………………………………………………….Hailey Turner WINTHROP BEJOU………..……………………………………………………………………………….Varrick Weir PERSON………………….……………..………………………………………………………………Frances Domingos a

When asked to submit work for “Alone, Together,” we immediately thought of this piece called Dynamite Sales. Although we had performed it as part of a stage show, and as an audio recording, we felt it would work even better in a Zoom format— especially in light of so many people now conducting business and work meetings remotely. A business motivational speaker waits for more people to sign in before she starts her seminar on dynamic selling. But she ends up with only one lone misanthropic student. It’s complete miscommunication between the sexes. In writing this for Zoom, we discovered this awkward encounter between complete strangers became intensified. It’s the close-up nature of the medium that allows for a wonderful, sometimes hysterical, kind of tension, as this business seminar ends up revealing more about each character than either of them ever wanted to. -Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta

Deb Lacusta is a writer/actor/improviser. Plays: Old Man in a Big Car, In Exile, Lock Up the Grass, The August. She writes for The Simpsons, and co-wrote the musical Empire Burlesque, Disney/ASCAP Workshop, host Stephen Schwartz. She co-founded Chicago improv scenario group Instant Theater, Improv Co-op, and Immediate Theater in LA.

Dan Castellaneta, four-time Emmy recipient, is consulting producer/writer on The Simpsons. Plays: The Sons of Mothers; Food Court; Where Did Vincent Van Gogh?; For Piano and Harpo, starring as the acerbic Oscar Levant. Co-writing with Deb Lacusta: Fortunes, Empire Burlesque, Earthers. Co-founder: Instant Theater, Improv Co-op, Immediate Theater. Second City Chicago.

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Bruce Miller Washington Square Films 310 Bowery, 2nd Floor New York, NY 10012 (212) 253-0333 x36 [email protected]

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DYNAMITE SALES

Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta

Characters: SHEILA WARING – Female, 30’s, is an attractive professional, who’s all business, all the time. But deep down, she has doubts about where she is at in her career.

WINTHROP BEJOU – Male, 30s, wears outofdate, illfitting clothes, and needs a shave. He lacks an understanding of social cues, and says whatever comes to mind. And he’s a bit depressed about recently losing his job.

PERSON – Any gender, 20’s-30’s.

Setting: A Zoom meeting. Sheila Waring sits at table. Behind her is a whiteboard or poster, upon which is written: “DYNAMITE SALES WITH SHEILA WARING.” In another Zoom window is Winthrop Bejou. They sit for a long time in silence. Sheila keeps glancing at her watch hoping someone else will join the Zoom meeting. Winthrop does the same. After a long uncomfortable moment. . .

WINTHROP Excuse me?

SHEILA What?

WINTHROP It’s eight-fifteen.

SHEILA (Thinking to herself) Eight-fifteen.

WINTHROP Shouldn't we get started?

SHEILA Let's just wait a bit more.

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WINTHROP (Waits a moment) Okay, I waited a bit more. I don't think anyone else is joining in.

SHEILA Well I expected more students.

WINTHROP I'm here.

SHEILA I can see that.

WINTHROP Y'know, I Venmo-ed my fee for this seminar, and you already cheated me out of fifteen minutes of education. I don't think I should be deprived because someone has lame DSL.

SHEILA Oh okay, we’ll begin. (clears throat) Welcome to

WINTHROP Uh excuse me.

SHEILA What?

WINTHROP Could you tell me how long it will be before I become a dynamic salesman, or should I say "salesperson?"

SHEILA Well that all depends on you.

WINTHROP I'm afraid not. I paid you good money, so now it all depends on you.

SHEILA Let's begin.

WINTHROP I don't know what to do. I have no idea how to start.

SHEILA My name is

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WINTHROP Sheila Waring. I know your name. It's right there behind your head. C'mon let's get going. Now, it's eighteen minutes I've lost.

SHEILA My name is Sheila Waring. I'm the author of

WINTHROP Dynamite Sales.

SHEILA Oh you've read my book.

WINTHROP Yes, and it didn't help. That's why I'm here.

SHEILA I'm sorry, but maybe you didn't quite catch the principles of dynamic selling.

WINTHROP Yes, I did. Know yourself. Know your product. Know the customer. So?

SHEILA Well let's put those principles into action and maybe someone else will join us.

WINTHROP Don't count on it.

Sheila writes on the white board.

SHEILA First principle Know Yourself. Let's start there. Know your strengths and weaknesses. Let's list your weaknesses.

WINTHROP Right here in front of everybody?

SHEILA Yes.

WINTHROP That was a joke.

SHEILA (Pause) So what are your weaknesses?

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Sheila writes on the white board as Winthrop lists his weaknesses.

WINTHROP I have body odor, I have a wandering left eye so I can't look straight at anybody, I can't meet girls, I drive badly, I have a lousy apartment, I don't have a lot of money, I can't resist Hostess hoho's, I got a crummy name, my mother hates me—

SHEILA (Cutting him off) Okay, let’s start with your name. What is your name?

WINTHROP Winthrop (BEE-OH) Bejou.

SHEILA Oh dear.

WINTHROP It's spelled BEJOU.

SHEILA Isn’t that Be-joo?

WINTHROP No! It’s Bee-oh. It's French!

SHEILA Let's list your strengths.

WINTHROP (Thinks for a moment) I know my weaknesses.

SHEILA That's it? That's your strengths?

WINTHROP Yeah. I just remembered another weakness.

SHEILA Yes?

WINTHROP I have a low opinion of myself. Put that on the list.

SHEILA Well that's gonna change right here and now.

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WINTHROP Good. Go. Change me.

SHEILA Know yourself. I’m sorry. What's your name again?

WINTHROP Oh my God, how am I supposed to know myself? You don't even know me. Winthrop.

SHEILA Winthrop. It seems right now your weaknesses outweigh your strengths.

WINTHROP Duh.

SHEILA But that can change. We take one weakness at a time and turn it around. Turn a negative into a positive. Let's start with. . . your rudeness.

WINTHROP I consider that a strength.

SHEILA Then how about your lousy attitude?

WINTHROP Okay.

SHEILA Now, what's the opposite of lousy?

WINTHROP Not lousy.

SHEILA Or?

WINTHROP Very not lousy.

SHEILA Which is—

WINTHROP The opposite of lousy.

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SHEILA I'll help you out.

WINTHROP I thought I was doing pretty good.

SHEILA You were, but I'll just expedite things along here. The opposite of lousy is. . . um. . .

WINTHROP I'm telling you—not lousy.

SHEILA Terrific.

WINTHROP Thank you.

SHEILA No, the opposite of lousy is terrific. So you need to feel terrific. Simple isn't it?

WINTHROP No. I don’t understand.

SHEILA What’s the problem?

WINTHROP I can't feel terrific because I feel lousy spending my money on this seminar.

SHEILA You gotta spend money to make money. Think of yourself as an investment. Really picture it in your mind.

WINTHROP (Thinking) Ok, I'm doing it. Look at me everybody, I am an investment. Now what?

SHEILA Well an investment takes time to mature or make money. You have to dress your investment in the finest suits. Do you understand?

WINTHROP Yeah. I should've bought a suit instead of taking this seminar.

SHEILA (Pause, then) Let's move on to the second principle Know your product. What kind of

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WINTHROP I don't know.

SHEILA Why not?

WINTHROP I don't have a job. I got fired last week.

SHEILA Well, what did you sell?

WINTHROP Ball bearings. Bushings.

SHEILA Oh, fascinating.

WINTHROP No, they’re boring.

SHEILA Well that's the wrong attitude to take. Sales is sales is sales. It's not what you sell, it's what you find out about the product that makes it interesting to you—

WINTHROP Believe me. It’s not interesting.

SHEILA —and it’s your enthusiasm that makes others want to know about ball bearings, too.

WINTHROP I’m telling you, they’re very boring.

SHEILA Okay. Here. Picture a ball bearing in your mind.

WINTHROP So should I stop thinking of myself as an investment?

SHEILA Yes, for now.

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WINTHROP (He closes his eyes and thinks) Ok. . . I got one.

SHEILA Good. Describe it to me.

WINTHROP You know what they look like—it’s a steel ball.

SHEILA Describe it. How big is the steel ball?

WINTHROP I don't know. It's in a big black void.

SHEILA Is it an inch wide? Two inches, what?

WINTHROP I don't know? How should I know?

SHEILA (Starting to lose her patience) All right. Picture a ruler next to the ball bearing.

Winthrop thinks.

SHEILA Now. How big is it?

WINTHROP Three-quarters of an inch.

SHEILA That’s good.

WINTHROP You want it in centimeters?

SHEILA What you have just practiced is visualization.

WINTHROP Whatever it was, it gave me a headache.

SHEILA You can create a picture in your mind—a picture of anything—and it can become

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WINTHROP Wow, that's great.

SHEILA Yes, and it works too. In order for you to create any situation, you just have to think about it first.

Pause.

WINTHROP Then how come you're not naked?

SHEILA Look, you—

WINTHROP ‘Cause I pictured it, and it didn’t happen.

SHEILA Have you ever even heard of “me-too?”

WINTHROP Is that the sequel to Despicable Me?

SHEILA I don’t know how you couldn’t have heard of it, unless you’re living under a rock.

WINTHROP I live under a bowling alley. Does that count?

SHEILA Okay, let me enlighten you.

WINTHROP Go.

SHEILA It’s a movement—where women have come together in support of each other in their refusal to put up with any overt or covert sexual harassment—in all kinds of professions—including sales.

WINTHROP I don’t understand what this has to do with me.

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SHEILA The way you were thinking of me is a classic display of toxic masculinity.

WINTHROP Is that a strength or a weakness?

SHEILA A major weakness.

WINTHROP (Resigned) Add it to the list.

SHEILA Done. Now let's get back to your ball bearing. Really picture that ball bearing.

WINTHROP Okay okay. . . I got one. . . I see a big ball bearing.

SHEILA Good.

WINTHROP And. . . you're sitting naked on top of it.

SHEILA Okay, that’s it. I have nothing to teach you!

WINTHROP It’s your fault.

SHEILA You cannot be a salesman!

WINTHROP It's like when somebody says don’t think of a polar bear, you’re gonna think of a polar bear.

SHEILA You have absolutely no skills or abilities to be a salesperson. I don't know what ever possessed you to even try to be one. You can't sell. You can only offend and repulse and insult women. And sales doesn't call for those qualities. So goodbye and good luck.

WINTHROP Oh yeah? What about you? You call yourself an expert salesperson, but you can't even

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SHEILA You know, I sold you on this seminar.

WINTHROP Yeah, but I'm an idiot.

Frustrated, Sheila starts to pack up.

SHEILA You know, you’re right.

WINTHROP What? About me being an idiot?

SHEILA Yes, but you're also honest.

WINTHROP Yeah?

SHEILA Yes. You sized me up. I can't sell anymore. I've reached burn out. You've exposed me for what I am. You've stripped me of my phony facade.

WINTHROP Well thanks, I think.

SHEILA You came here to learn something from me.

WINTHROP Wait, what was that part about stripping?

SHEILA And you ended up teaching me something. I'm in the wrong business.

WINTHROP You mentioned something about stripping?

SHEILA “Know yourself.” That’s my first principle. And I don’t think I do. I don’t think I ever did. The person that went into sales wasn’t me. She was someone I’m not. I need to find out who I really am. (then) You've given me a life lesson, my friend.

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WINTHROP I have? Wow. Boy that is pretty ironic, isn't it?

SHEILA Yes, indeed it is.

WINTHROP And I didn't even know I was doing it.

SHEILA That's just it. You just are what you are.

WINTHROP Yeah. I am, I guess.

SHEILA You make no excuses for yourself.

WINTHROP I don't apologize.

SHEILA No, you don't. And you know what—I should learn from that.

WINTHROP You should.

SHEILA You know I hate to say this but—

WINTHROP Say it.

SHEILA I am grateful to you.

WINTHROP How about thanking me by returning my money?

SHEILA That’s not possible.

WINTHROP Hey I helped you know yourself. I should at least get a refund.

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SHEILA Tell you what—I’ll let you in on a trade secret that’ll be worth every penny you spent.

WINTHROP All right, what is it?

SHEILA Always get the money up front. So long, asshole.

She leaves the Zoom meeting. After a moment, a new person joins the meeting.

PERSON Hello?

WINTHROP Hello.

PERSON I’m sorry I’m late. Is this the Dynamic Sales Seminar?

WINTHROP (Pause, then) Yes. . .

PERSON Where’s Sheila Waring?

WINTHROP I’m her assistant. Did you Venmo your fee?

PERSON I’m doing it right now. Is it to Sheila Waring?

WINTHROP No, it’s to her corporation—Winthrop (BEE-OH) Bejou.

PERSON Okay. What’s the B.O. stand for?

WINTHROP Better Sales Organization.

PERSON Wouldn’t that be B.S.O.?

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WINTHROP Hey with that attitude, you’ll never be a dynamic salesperson.

PERSON Sorry.

WINTHROP Don’t apologize. That’s the number one rule. Never, ever, ever apologize. Say you say something to some easily offended woman that comes across as rude or arrogant to her. Well, that’s just a matter of perception. What does she know? Ya gotta turn that around—‘cause the opposite of rude is confident—

Person exits the Zoom meeting. Winthrop is alone.

WINTHROP —and the opposite of arrogant is—Hello? Oh crap. Well. . . maybe I can appeal my Uber suspension.

From the floor above, sound effect: a rolling bowling ball. Winthrop looks up, then hears the bowling ball hitting some pins. He reacts, then exits Zoom.

THE END

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ROSEBUD

Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta

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Rosebud was originally written and performed by Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta as part of their Deb & Dan’s Show at The Improvisation Theater, Los Angeles, and subsequently recorded for audio as part of Dan Castellaneta’s I Am Not Homer. This Zoom adaptation was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Maria Zelaya Santillan.

Cast: GEORGE…………………………………………………………………………………………………Jonathan Buhrer RENE………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Alyssa Longwill

A couple has been dating for only three months, then Covid hits. Their relationship goes online, and the romantic bloom is off the “Rosebud,” so to speak. Rosebud has had various incarnations over the years. It was performed in a live theater show, and as an audio recording. Each time, the format informed our characters in different ways. It’s amazing how Zooming online can actually reveal more about a person than being in the same room, or on the same stage, with them. All you have is the screen to gaze upon. So each facial tic, each eye roll, each pause, reveals what is left unspoken. And since the play deals with the film Citizen Kane, the cinematic quality of the Zoom format also allows us to play with some techniques of cinema. As writers, setting Rosebud in a Zoom world let us more closely examine the idea of communication between couples, and how one person’s film obsession can devolve into the ridiculous and absurd—which pretty much reflects the world we now find ourselves living in. -Deb Lacusta and Dan Castellaneta

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Bruce Miller Washington Square Films 310 Bowery, 2nd Floor New York, NY 10012 (212) 253-0333 x36 [email protected]

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ROSEBUD

Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta

Characters: GEORGE—Male, 20s-30’s, comes off as a pseudo-intellectual film snob. He’s in a relationship with. . .

RENE—Female, 20’s-30’s, who doesn’t get George’s film obsession at all.

George and Rene, each in their own Zoom windows in their respective homes, are in mid-conversation. We catch Rene giggling a bit too long about something.

RENE (Giggling) So did you see that video I sent?

GEORGE Not yet.

RENE (Still giggling) It was so funny. No matter what that Roomba did, the cat never fell off! You gotta watch it.

GEORGE Uh huh. Great. So did you watch Citizen Kane?

RENE Yes, I watched it on Netflix.

GEORGE So wasn't that something?

RENE What, George?

GEORGE The ending of the movie.

RENE I didn’t get it.

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GEORGE What do you mean? You saw the ending, right?

RENE Yeah.

GEORGE What was the ending?

RENE There was a fire. And there was a sled. And that's the ending of the movie.

GEORGE Yes. Amazing, right?

RENE What did the sled have to do with anything?

GEORGE Rene, it was the only thing in the world that meant anything to him.

RENE Then why did he burn it?

GEORGE He didn't burn it. He's dead.

RENE Well who burned the sled then?

GEORGE It doesn't matter who burned it.

RENE Then why was it in the movie?

GEORGE Rene, he was rich. He owned everything. But his last words were "Rosebud."

RENE That was the blonde in the lace outfit.

GEORGE No, it was a sled.

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RENE And it was worth millions of dollars.

GEORGE Didn't you see “Rosebud” written on the sled?

RENE I paid attention.

GEORGE Well, then what happened?

RENE Uh, there was, uh, a bald guy in glasses and a bunch of dancing girls and um, a guy was running for mayor and someone lived on a farm.

GEORGE He ran for governor.

RENE Oh, and there was an opera.

GEORGE What was the movie about in one sentence?

RENE (Pause) A man who loved a sled.

GEORGE That wasn't even a sentence. You remember in the snow?

RENE There were these big fat lips and then he said "Rosebud." I remember that.

GEORGE No. When he was a little boy. He was in the snow, he was playing with the sled.

RENE So what was the deal with the big fat lips?

GEORGE He was saying his last words—“Rosebud."

RENE His last words were a sled? I would think he'd have something better to say.

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GEORGE It reminded him of his childhood. He was young, he had the sled, and that was the only time in his entire life he was ever happy.

RENE (Pause) That's pathetic.

GEORGE That's the idea.

RENE What a dumb story.

GEORGE Dumb! How is it dumb?!

RENE A rich guy dies unhappy 'cause he misses his sled. Boo hoo. He could afford another one.

GEORGE He didn't need another one.

RENE Then why did he burn it?

GEORGE He didn't burn it!

RENE Well somebody did!

GEORGE (Exasperated sigh)

RENE Y'know, they left too many loose ends to be tied up in this movie.

GEORGE Are you kidding? This is one of the most important movies in cinema history.

RENE I did not know that. Then how come it’s so boring.

GEORGE It's not boring. It's an acquired taste like fine wine.

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RENE At least wine isn’t in black and white. Well, it is in white. (giggles at her joke, then) What?

GEORGE I'm gonna screen share it. I want you to watch it again.

RENE (Whining) Noooo. I can't. Why does a movie have to be so much work?

GEORGE It’s not work. I've seen it twenty-three times and each time I do, it's better than before.

RENE Twenty-three times. . . you’re sick.

GEORGE This movie means a lot to me, Rene.

RENE I guess.

GEORGE It's like if I brought you home to meet my parents and you didn't like them.

RENE This movie is your parents.

GEORGE Well no, but it means as much to me as my parents.

RENE Do your parents know about this?

GEORGE Don't you have something that's important to you?

RENE Yeah.

GEORGE What?

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RENE Happiness.

GEORGE Happiness? Only Tibetan monks ever achieve happiness. The rest of us have to watch Citizen Kane.

RENE Well watching it didn't make me happy.

GEORGE Give it a chance. You should try to cultivate an appreciation for finer things. Because, like with everything else, films you like say something about you.

RENE What does this movie say about you? Did you lose your sled?

GEORGE No, I still have it.

RENE Oh you do? And is it named “Rosebud?”

GEORGE No.

RENE “Red Flyer?” “Speedy?” “The Flash?”

GEORGE I don't wanna go into this.

RENE So your sled does have a name.

GEORGE Never mind my sled, we're talking about—

RENE Well I find it interesting that Citizen Kane had a sled and you have a sled. That's why you like this movie, George. That guy is you.

GEORGE No. He was a newspaper mogul who filled up his empty life with possessions.

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RENE So you're a guy with a film blog who fills up his empty life with movies. You've got a spare bedroom filled with videotapes and movie memorabilia. Who the hell cares about Erich von Stroheim's toothbrush?

GEORGE Hey I traded my Martin Scorsese nail clippers for that.

RENE That's why you like Citizen Kane, George. You're just like him.

GEORGE No. I like Citizen Kane because it's a fascinating story of idealism corrupted by wealth. It stretched the boundaries of cinema and came up with boldly innovative rules of sound, camera, and narrative technique.

RENE Oh, you're just a. . . what's the word I want?

GEORGE I'm not giving you the word.

RENE You're just a. . . just a. . . Don’t tell me. I know the word. . . you're just a. . .

GEORGE You know why you don't know the word? Because you aren't willing to expose yourself to things that can increase your intelligence.

RENE Oh, so I'm like some stupid person and you're just a. . . Mister-Important-guy-who- likes-big-deal-black-and-white-subtitled movies. That's the word I was looking for!

GEORGE That was more than one word.

RENE You know what? That Citizen Kane started out as a nice guy and then he got pretty mean. And you know when we started dating, you were a nice guy, and now you’re pretty mean.

GEORGE (Channeling Orson Welles from Citizen Kane) Rene.

RENE You never wanna watch what I wanna watch!

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GEORGE (À la Orson Welles) You'll continue with the movies, Rene.

RENE You know, you oughta have your head examined! A person could go crazy in this dump! I wanna go out! I'm tired of sitting at home watching your stupid movies!

GEORGE (À la Orson Welles) Our home is here, Rene.

RENE George, you're not making any sense. You're acting weird and talking like that Citizen movie.

GEORGE (À la Orson Welles) Don't worry about me, Rene.

RENE Okay, you know what? Byyyyye.

(She tries to exit Zoom.)

GEORGE (À la Orson Welles, yelling) Don't worry about me. I'm George Foster Kane. I'm no cheap crooked politician trying to save himself from the consequences of his crimes.

(She exits Zoom.)

GEORGE (À la Orson Welles, yelling) Rene, I'm gonna send you to Sing Sing! Rene! Sing Sing!

(George lashes out by knocking over a stack of books, then ripping a film poster off the wall. After a moment, he picks up a sled, or a picture of a sled, or a snow globe, then comes in for a close-up of his lips, and says. . .)

GEORGE Swifty. . .

THE END

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QUIETUS

Mia Chung

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Quietus was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Frances (Yizhou) Sun.

Cast: I……………………………………………………………..…………………………………………………….Colson Lynn

qui·e·tus, /ˌkwīˈēdəs/, noun, LITERARY, death or something that causes death, regarded as a release from life; ARCHAIC, something that has a calming or soothing effect.

(This monologue is an excerpt from Quietus, a full-length work-in-progress.)

Mia Chung’s Catch as Catch Can will premiere in Steppenwolf’s 2021-2022 season; Page 73 produced the world premiere (NYC, Fall 2018). You for Me for You premiered at The Royal Court (London), the National Theatre Company of Korea (Seoul), and Woolly Mammoth Theatre (DC); and is published by Bloomsbury Methuen. She received a 2019 Helen Merrill Playwriting Award.

Contact: Emma Feiwel, William Morris Endeavor, [email protected]

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QUIETUS

By Mia Chung

I’ve been feeling lately a queasy feeling when I’m alone A sort of suffocation A sort of butterflies feeling. . . but all the butterflies are in my head. Sort of like the feeling of being under water. And my skin seems to be getting tighter and tighter. My body is folded over and I am hugging myself. Or maybe it’s that I’m getting bigger and bigger and pressing up against my skin. Is it my skin? Or is it the walls of the room that I’m in, which feel like skin. And like Alice, I don’t fit anymore. I’m growing bigger than the room, the house. My head crashes through a wall, my arm is popping out of the roof, a leg pushes through a window. I sit up and the house is in pieces, hanging off me. Pinching me here or there. Shingles and bricks and windowpanes. It’s uncomfortable. It’s incomprehensible. And most of all: I can’t go back. I can’t shrink back down to fit into that space that used to be enough space, that used to be all I ever needed.

I can’t go back as much as I absolutely would if I could.

I want to fold up and push all the pieces into place, or, at a minimum, out of sight. I want to be neat and clean and unproblematic. I want to crawl back into that house, that womb, that skin. I want to never want to leave again.

End

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WHICH ACTUALLY ISN’T SO NEW

Mia Chung

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Which Actually Isn’t so New was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Kate Bergstrom.

Cast: KAYKEY………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Xochitl Clare EMILIA…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Roz Cornejo

ac·tu·al·ly, adverb, 1. as the truth or facts of a situation; really; 2. used to emphasize that something someone has said or done is surprising.

Contact: Emma Feiwel, William Morris Endeavor, [email protected]

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WHICH ACTUALLY ISN’T SO NEW

By Mia Chung

Characters: KAYKEY, a woman, any race. EMILIA, a woman, any race.

Two screens.

One with the username Kaykey shows an emptyish room. A really old printer. A collection of manila envelopes and empty boxes. And a few items of personal interest (trinkets, a postcard taped up, perhaps a dying cactus).

On the other screen: Emilia waits. She sips a cup of tea. Scrolls through email on her phone.

Distant sounds of voices. Emilia listens, increases the volume on her laptop. The distant sound of a door closing, muffling further sounds.

Emilia checks her watch.

Note: The following actions are not visible to anyone but Emilia: Emilia writes and revises a text. Then revises it again. She sends it off, then hits Leave Meeting. The pop-up “Do you want to leave this meeting?” appears on Emilia’s screen.

Just as Emilia is about to Leave, Kaykey appears on-screen, quickly sits at her laptop.

KAYKEY Sorry sorry sorry sorry—I just—I didn’t realize / I had left a—I had to run downstairs and then

EMILIA It’s okay. Kaykey Kaykey, it’s okay.

Kaykey finds her phone and sees the text from Emilia.

KAYKEY Oh my gawd, you were about to Leave.

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EMILIA Is every/thing

KAYKEY I’m fine. Yes, sorry, I’m sorry, that was so rude of me, do you have to go? I’m so sorry.

EMILIA I’m not sure if I / can

KAYKEY Oh, of course.

EMILIA It’s okay, but

KAYKEY I understand. I’m so sorry

A short beat.

EMILIA You were gone for a while.

A beat. Kaykey sorrowful and watchful, not sure what is going to happen.

EMILIA Let’s just do a quick catch-up.

KAYKEY Oh yes! We can make it really / really

EMILIA So how long have you guys been in Amherst?

KAYKEY A few years now, let’s see maybe like, oh wow, it’s been (counting in her head) yeah, like two and a half, over a half actually, so like over two and a half years.

EMILIA Wow.

KAYKEY Yeah

EMILIA Do you like it?

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KAYKEY Yeah, it’s great. We bought a house. It’s small, but It’s a house. With a yard. A small yard. I wouldn’t have time to take care of much more than a small yard. As it is, I don’t really—hey, what about you? Do you still have your herb garden? In your windowbox? Where do you live now?

EMILIA I’m still in DC. But in a different apartment. Sadly, I had to leave the window box in that apartment. That was actually two apartments ago.

KAYKEY Oh wow, sorry, yeah, I’m horrible at keeping in touch.

EMILIA It’s me, too. I haven’t reached out.

KAYKEY No, but I’m worse. I’m the worst.

EMILIA Oh, come on.

KAYKEY We’ve just moving a lot and

EMILIA I hate this blame thing, let’s not let that be

KAYKEY The ball was in my court. And I dropped the ball.

A short beat.

EMILIA Okay, fine, it’s your fault.

KAYKEY I’m sorry.

EMILIA I’m just—oh my gawd, stop. Like immediately. Otherwise we’re not going to ever feel like talking / to

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KAYKEY I always feel like talking to you!

EMILIA No, but the guilt and the regret and the sorry sorry sorry

KAYKEY I forgot I had set a timer. The oven turns off automatically, but the timer goes off and keeps going off to make sure you

EMILIA You mean tonight? Are you talking about why you suddenly ran off?

KAYKEY Yes

EMILIA But there was also

KAYKEY You probably can’t hear it, but the timer is really loud and anyways. Hey, I really loved that last article. The one on climate change.

EMILIA I know. You emailed me. Thanks for reading.

KAYKEY I read everything. It might take me a while, but I always clip them and read. What are you working on these days?

EMILIA …

KAYKEY Oh, you’re doing a whole series on climate change, that’s right. Did another piece come out yet? Did I miss it?

EMILIA …

KAYKEY …

EMILIA Was that Rence?

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KAYKEY What?

EMILIA Was that Rence earlier? That noise?

KAYKEY What noise?

EMILIA That loud bang.

KAYKEY No, I think

EMILIA Sounded like a door

KAYKEY … I don't know. I don’t know what that was.

EMILIA

Kaykey

KAYKEY Hey, are you still dating that guy?

EMILIA No. I’m not seeing anyone right now.

KAYKEY Good because he wasn’t as smart as you.

EMILIA That’s not / why

KAYKEY He was nice, but you need someone smart. I might know a guy—he’s really great. A post-doc in Religious Studies, but he’s not actually / religious

EMILIA I’m not seeing anyone right now.

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KAYKEY Oh.

EMILIA I like being alone.

KAYKEY …

EMILIA It’s like, remember when you dated Aaron Miller

KAYKEY Why are we talking about high school?

EMILIA And then afterward you said you were going on a boyfriend fast cuz you learned that you needed to be alone?

KAYKEY I wanted to be an adult so bad.

EMILIA You were. I remember thinking you were so wise. So mature.

KAYKEY He’s a good guy.

EMILIA Who—Aaron? Yeah. He was a good guy.

KAYKEY Yeah. I heard he got married a few months ago. And has a kid.

EMILIA Wait

KAYKEY The kid is from a different relationship. But his wife is also pregnant.

EMILIA Oh.

KAYKEY I bumped into Sasha. She keeps up with everyone’s business.

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EMILIA I’m always glad to read our Class Notes, but I never feel up to the task of sending in an update about myself. I just never feel like there’s anything interesting to say. I moved to a new apartment? I published another article? I mean, those are the events of my life, but.

KAYKEY You’re a lurker.

EMILIA What?

KAYKEY A lurker. Like on Facebook. People who never post updates but read everyone else’s news. They’re called lurkers.

EMILIA Yeah. I know it’s lame, but

KAYKEY It’s not lame. I think eighty percent of people I know are lurkers, I just think the word is funny, lurker. Like I’m lurking in the shadows, peeping into everyone else’s lives and —

The sound of a door opening. Kaykey turns around sharply, away from the screen. Then quickly snaps back to the computer and Mutes herself. She turns around again, then turns back to the screen.

Note: [dialogue in brackets] is spoken, but not heard over Zoom because the speaker is on Mute.

KAYKEY On mute: [Hold on]

EMILIA Kaykey, I can’t hear you.

KAYKEY [I’ll be right back]

Kaykey puts up a finger, then leaves the screen.

A beat.

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Kaykey comes back to the screen. Unmutes herself.

KAYKEY You’re right, Em, sorry, let’s do this another time. Sorry, tonight’s a little complicated.

EMILIA Wait

KAYKEY I don’t want to keep you waiting again and again

EMILIA What’s complicated about tonight?

KAYKEY I just I don’t know. It’s like, I mean, it’s—never mind. It’s all fine. Everything’s fine. I’m fine.

EMILIA I know you’re fine.

KAYKEY I really wanted to hear how you’re doing

EMILIA Then let’s do that.

KAYKEY But tonight’s not right.

EMILIA Okay, what about tomorrow?

KAYKEY Sure—no, shit, I’ve got this thing tomorrow

EMILIA Then the next day? Whenever. Whenever’s good.

KAYKEY Let me think about it. The thing tomorrow night might not happen, so

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EMILIA We can just try for tomorrow. I can just try you.

KAYKEY No, no

EMILIA I’ll just give you a call around this time.

KAYKEY But I mean

EMILIA Or if later is better—forget Zoom. It can just be a phonecall.

KAYKEY I’m okay, Emmy.

A short beat.

EMILIA I know you’re okay.

KAYKEY It’s just this new place, which actually isn’t so new, but we’re so slow about furniture and making decisions and

EMILIA I’ll call you tomorrow

KAYKEY I don’t want the same thing to happen again

EMILIA It’s okay.

KAYKEY I don’t think, I mean, I mean of course I want to talk. And I should be able to schedule things. And I can move things around so that I can make sure I’m free. I mean I should be able to. But well

EMILIA I’ll call you tomorrow.

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KAYKEY … Um, well …

EMILIA Okay?

KAYKEY … …

EMILIA Kaykey?

A beat. Kaykey rubs her face.

KAYKEY It’s just been a weird day. Today, it’s just—today

EMILIA …

KAYKEY Sorry.

EMILIA It’s no big deal, / Kay.

KAYKEY It was so good to see you. … I gotta go, bye. Talk soon.

EMILIA Okay

KAYKEY I really gotta go

EMILIA Okay I mean

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KAYKEY Okay. Bye.

EMILIA Bye.

Kaykey leaves the Zoom.

Emilia leaves the Zoom.

End of play.

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CHA-CHA

Yussef El Guindi

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Cha-Cha was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Hala Baki.

Cast: SALMA.………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Kerry Jacinto JUSTIN……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Harut Simonian

My first response to the writing request was “no.” The call to writers came early in the pandemic, and I simply was not in a writing frame of mind. The enormity of the disaster came in waves, and as soon as I thought I’d settled on the emotional toolkit I’d need to get through it, another realization of just how unprecedented and colossal all this was hit me. I was too numb to react even to the loss of productions. Then, as will happen, a couple of voices (or personas) lugged themselves up from whatever ink-soaked recesses of the imagination I use to start and finish a project. The characters—Salma and Justin—were thankfully charming enough for me to experience a little respite from the pandemic. The other little voice that nudged me forward to write was a little more atavistic. And that was the call to adapt. Live theater was at a standstill. I knew I depended upon writing for many things, including keeping my sanity, so. . . I would simply have to adapt if I wanted to mentally and emotionally stay afloat. So here I am adapting. To goddamn Zoom. And thank God for connectivity by any means necessary. -Yussef El Guindi

Yussef El Guindi’s most recent productions include People of the Book at ACT in Seattle, The Talented Ones at Artists Repertory Theatre in Portland (and UCSB’s LAUNCH PAD), and Threesome at Portland Center Stage. Bloomsbury/ Methuen Drama recently published “The Selected Works of Yussef El Guindi.” https://www.facebook.com/yussef.guindi

Samara Harris Robert A. Freedman Dramatic Agency 1501 Broadway, Suite 2310 New York, NY 10036 212-840-5751 (New York) 773-472-4755 (Chicago) [email protected] www.robertfreedmanagency.com

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CHA-CHA

By Yussef El Guindi

Characters:

SALMA. . . mid 20s, graduate student, can be of any ethnicity.

JUSTIN. . . mid 20s, graduate student, can be of any ethnicity.

Justin and Salma are in mid-conversation. Salma doesn't look well. Perhaps she blows her nose on a tissue.

JUSTIN Salma?

SALMA Justin.

JUSTIN Please? Call?

SALMA I promise you, it's seasonal crap. Spring comes and everything that can leak leaks. Remember last year? I was a sneezing factory.

JUSTIN Or—

SALMA Or?

JUSTIN It could be that.

SALMA Could be the sky's about to fall on our heads; but it probably won't.

JUSTIN Babe?

(Or another term of endearment.)

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SALMA I like this side of you.

JUSTIN What side?

SALMA Caring; worried. Look at that little frown on you, it's so cute. Little cutie nurturer. I don't see this side too often.

JUSTIN I've always been a nurturer. What are you talking about?

SALMA I see it now and again—peeking out. You disguise it real well under all that manly—he- man stuff.

JUSTIN "Manly he-man"? That’s—a whole lot of man. Thank you, I think. But you know you'd get bored with me real quick if I was always like, (Overly solicitous tone.) "Are you okay? How are you feeling? Can I get you anything? Are you sure?"

SALMA Are you kidding me? Pamper me to death, please. I love seeing this warm beating heart of yours. I mean—I’m a big fan of some of your other warm, beating parts. Love getting real close to those too. (Justin perhaps makes a face to register the innuendo.) But when you're this cute worrying.

(She almost coughs the last word as she starts a short coughing fit. She picks up a glass of water and drinks.)

JUSTIN Have you taken your temperature?

SALMA I don't have a thingy.

JUSTIN Do you feel feverish?

SALMA I am hot. Say more. Let's skip the small talk.

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JUSTIN You have to risk seeing a doctor. They're not going to deport you if you come in and they find out you have it.

SALMA They'll just wait until I'm better and then do it. Then they'll come after my mom and dad.

JUSTIN All that kind of enforcement has been suspended.

SALMA You know that for sure? Do they know that? (Before Justin can continue:) Look, if I did have it they'd only tell me to stay home, right? So—can we change the subject? This is date night. Fun night.

(Perhaps she moves a small vase with a flower in it into the frame—or not.)

JUSTIN Salma—

SALMA I have a great idea for what we can do.

JUSTIN (Just occurring to him.) You know what. . . so do I.

SALMA Oh? What?

JUSTIN Well. . . why don't we. . . and think about it before you say anything. Why don't we. . .

SALMA (When he doesn't continue.) Yes? Listening.

JUSTIN Because when I think about it, my first reaction is, “Well—why not?”

SALMA Did I miss something you said earlier?

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JUSTIN Why don't we just get hitched now?

SALMA (Digests that for a second.) Hitched?

JUSTIN Yes.

SALMA You mean?

JUSTIN I do. . . That is what I mean.

SALMA (Digests that for a second.) Did you loop me into this conversation earlier and I just forgot about it?

JUSTIN Aren't you bored? Let's just get married.

SALMA Is that a good idea? Making life decisions out of boredom?

JUSTIN Out of—you know, out of love. You wanted to see more of my warm beating heart, didn't you?

(Throws his hands up as is in, “Voila.")

SALMA Marry? Now?

JUSTIN Perfect time. Celebration in the midst of panic. We've already all but said we're gonna do it. We've talked about places we might live after graduating. We're figuring out what careers would put us in the same city. That's what people heading towards the big "M" talk about, right? Let’s—let's just make it official.

SALMA Right now?

JUSTIN Not during this call, but within the next few days, yeah. It would make a bunch of miserable people around us very happy.

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SALMA (Occurring to her.) Oh. Because throwing a big wedding where no one shows up would be your ideal wedding?

JUSTIN Everyone shows up online. We'd make it a public event. Everyone gets invited.

SALMA And you could just sit on the couch. Getting married would almost feel like playing a video game.

JUSTIN You're selling the idea even more, yes. You know, I kinda just blurted it out, but, I'm really liking the idea the more we talk about it.

SALMA Justin.

JUSTIN Seriously, let's figure out the paperwork. We get you legal now and then you can go see a frickin doctor.

SALMA All this: applying for a green card, getting me legal, not to mention arranging the wedding, it would have to happen within the next week if I'm really getting sick and the whole point is to get me to see a doctor. A process that usually takes years.

JUSTIN If you're really sick I'm coming over and taking you to a doctor myself. Fuck the quarantine.

SALMA Sweetie.

JUSTIN Not joking.

SALMA Six feet apart.

JUSTIN I'll come around with a forklift. I'll just load you onto the truck and drive you. I wouldn't even have to touch you.

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SALMA That's so romantic.

JUSTIN Agreed? We get married?

SALMA Have you even officially proposed yet?

JUSTIN I was just getting to that. (He gets on his knees.) Salma. Love of my life; thorn in my side. Best cook, and worse selector of movies ever, will you. . . ?

SALMA Ring? Isn't there supposed to be a ringy thing?

JUSTIN Oh.

(He looks around him, grabs a piece of paper, strips a section, twists and twirls it into a make-shift circular thing.)

SALMA Ahhh. Does it get more romantic than this? Probably.

JUSTIN I'll have it dipped in gold later.

SALMA (As he continues making the ring.) More of a bracelet. But okay.

JUSTIN Salma: (Holds out the paper ring.) Will you do me the honor of walking with me into all the days that's left to us. Whatever they hold, good or bad, till death do us, or, until we really get pissed off with each other and get a divorce. In which case will you do me the honor of not getting divorce lawyers and staying friends with me? We'll split everything fifty-fifty and maybe after taking a time-out we think about hanging out again? And then, maybe, you know, get remarried? Because the second time we'll be so much more mature and wiser, and really know how to communicate with each other.

SALMA (Waits for him to continue, then:) Did you—reach the end?

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JUSTIN Is that a yes?

SALMA Sweetie: I'm not getting married to get a green card. Never happening. After I get it, yes, maybe.

JUSTIN (Gets off his knees and sits down again.) Normally, that pride of yours is very sexy, / but—

SALMA Because when we do have our first crazy fight, which will happen, that might. . . it might come up—or slip out. That I only married you to get legal. And I would never be able to unhear that. I never want that—weapon in our house. Especially if we want a chance of remarrying after that first divorce.

JUSTIN I'd never in a million years—

SALMA You say that now,—

JUSTIN (Overlapping) Never.

SALMA —but tomorrow, when I've gotten a little fatter and less new, and shiny, and you really might have to use a forklift to get me around. That's when people's shittier sides start coming out.

JUSTIN How fat are we talking about?

SALMA The women in my family get large. And if you say "more of you to love" I'm ending this call.

JUSTIN You're so. . . I think a brick wall is more flexible than you.

SALMA Sweetie. Honey bear.

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JUSTIN But I heard a "yes, maybe." That's hopeful, right?

SALMA Yes. It is.

(Slight beat, then:)

JUSTIN I just feel so helpless.—I want to come over and feed you and make you feel better. And I can't. I can't do anything.

SALMA I love you even more for proposing.

(Then:)

JUSTIN Can we have Zoom sex? (Or whatever platform is being used if not Zoom.) Actually—let’s put all your energy into getting better.

SALMA Look at you: putting my health before your orgasm.

JUSTIN Sacrifices: we all have to make them.

SALMA Want to know what my idea for date night is?

JUSTIN What?

SALMA Learning a new dance. I came across this great intro to the Cha-Cha. You know the Cha-Cha?

JUSTIN Is that like Salsa?

SALMA No. Is it? I don't know, I think it's from Cuba. Okay. Get up. Let's just do it.

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JUSTIN Should you be doing this? Because if you're going to use all this energy to dance we might as well just have zoom sex.

SALMA Dancing is the perfect medicine. Okay: This is what I remember. Follow my lead. So. . . we start in this position. Loosen your limbs. Loosen them up, just—yeah, shake them out. Don't roll your eyes. (He follows her lead.) It's real simple. First. You: (She executes the moves she mentions. Note: the following instructions can be adjusted to suit the moves they make.) Step, step, step. Follow what I do. (Reluctantly he does so.) Step, step, step. Now: going backwards, just the way you came: back, back, back. And maybe swing your shoulders and arms a little more, like so. (In response to his lackluster attempt.) Justin.

JUSTIN I'm doing it.

SALMA Not so stiff. And, okay: walk, forward, step, and back, back, back. And forward, forward, forward and: back, back, yes. Keeping arms up and swinging. And—

JUSTIN So basically we're just walking backwards and forwards.

SALMA (Remembering.) And do it on the balls of your feet.

JUSTIN Tip-toe?

SALMA So the weight's on the front of your foot. So—we: (They do it.) Cha-cha, cha-cha-cha, cha-cha, cha-cha-cha. Cha-cha, good. Okay. Now: this move. We're going to move sideways like a crab. Except not like a crab. So it goes: (She executes the moves.) Move; bring the feet together. Again, together, once more: together. Just like I'm doing. (He does so.)

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The other way now. One, together, two, together, three. And: back the other way. So. And so. Okay. Now: This is the complicated part. (Trying to remember.) I should have watched it again, but: you put your foot back. Then, step forward. . . shit, what was it? (She starts doing it.) Okay, just follow me. This. This. And this. Then—this; this, and—. Good. Then—okay, I think I've got it. So we put it all together. So it’s:

JUSTIN The whole number?

SALMA Just stumble through it. So it's: (She tries to accompany the moves with humming and speaking/singing. After a few beats.) Okay, yeah. You're doing it. You're almost a natural.

JUSTIN Thanks. You're almost a good teacher.

(They continue the dance as they speak.)

SALMA If we ever get married, we have to dance together at least once a day.

JUSTIN How about on the last weekend of every month?

SALMA Every other day then.

JUSTIN Fine. Every other day. Sure.

(They dance for a little while as she hums or softly says “cha-cha, cha-cha- cha.” Then he stops dancing.)

SALMA Why'd you stop? This is good exercise. I feel great.

JUSTIN I just wish we were dancing together.

SALMA We are. Aren't we? . . . You’re right here. Almost.

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JUSTIN (He approaches the screen, sitting down again. Slight beat. Then:) I love you.

(She sits down and looks at him.)

SALMA I love you too.

(They stare at each for a beat. Then:)

JUSTIN I think I love you a little more.

SALMA I'm pretty sure I have you beat in that department.

JUSTIN You know what we should do together when this is all over? Therapy.

SALMA I think that's a great idea. I look forward to hearing you admit to your issues.

JUSTIN I look forward to hearing you spill yours.

(They look at each other some more, then:)

SALMA Same time tomorrow? We learn some more dance?

JUSTIN Cha-cha-cha.

SALMA Goodnight.

JUSTIN Call if you need anything. Please?

SALMA I will. Don't worry.

JUSTIN (Slight beat.) Goodnight.

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SALMA Goodnight.

(Slight beat. They switch off.)

End of play

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LATE NIGHT PRAYER

Anne García-Romero

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Late Night Prayer was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Daniel Andres Blanco.

Cast: FELICIA ALVARADO………………………….…………………………………………………………….Kerry Jacinto LUIS GONZALEZ………………………………..….………………………………………………………Danny Blanco

Late Night Prayer continues a conversation I began with Risa Brainin and LAUNCH PAD in 2015 when we developed my play, Staging the Daffy Dame, which UCSB produced in 2018. Staging the Daffy Dame explores a contemporary university theater department that is producing The Daffy Dame (La Dama Boba), a 17th-century Spanish Golden Age comedy by Lope de Vega, which highlights the education of women and the transformational power of love. Staging the Daffy Dame aims to amplify these classical themes through a modern lens by focusing on Lupe, a Latina theatre professor, who directs this play while grappling with the plight of her DACA student actors. Late Night Prayer picks up where Staging the Daffy Dame leaves off, at the end of an academic year after Felicia and Luis have performed leading roles in The Daffy Dame and are now sheltering in place during the Covid-19 pandemic. In these difficult times, we are confronted daily with issues of survival: physical, psychological, economic, artistic, and spiritual. Our undocumented students face all these issues as well as the vulnerability of their immigration status. Late Night Prayer explores how these two students search for hope and faith while facing an uncertain future. -Anne García-Romero

Anne García-Romero’s plays include Lorca in New York, Paloma, Mary Domingo, Provenance, Juanita's Statue, Earthquake Chica, and Santa Concepción. She’s a graduate of the Yale School of Drama (Playwriting) and UC Santa Barbara (Ph.D. in Theatre Studies). She's an associate professor of Theatre at the University of Notre Dame. [email protected] www.annegarciaromero.com

Contact: Susan Gurman Gurman Agency 14 Penn Plaza, Suite 1703 New York, NY 10122-1701 212-749-4618 [email protected]

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LATE NIGHT PRAYER

By Anne García-Romero

Characters: FELICIA ALVARADO, 20, university junior, student actor LUIS GONZALEZ, 21, university senior, student actor

Setting: Present. California suburbs.

Note: These characters are from my play, Staging the Daffy Dame, which was developed and received a preview production at UCSB’s LAUNCH PAD. The dialogue in italics ought to be spoken in Spanish.

Lights rise on Luis and Felicia in the middle of a FaceTime call. They are each in their own bedrooms. It is late at night.

LUIS Where are you?

FELICIA In her guest room.

LUIS Is it weird?

FELICIA Lupe’s chill.

LUIS Living with your professor has got to be a little weird.

FELICIA I’m grateful.

LUIS Yeah, when the dorms closed we all scattered.

FELICIA I could have gone to stay with Evelyn and her family but that felt more weird.

LUIS Evelyn’s the best.

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FELICIA I know. I just thought that staying in town, with Lupe, in her guest room, would be better. It’s quiet.

LUIS I’m here with my three younger brothers and it is not quiet. Fighting for table space to do homework. Internet crashing.

FELICIA How’re your parents?

LUIS Honestly? Scared. But they still have to go to work. At the supermarket. They come home at night and throw all their clothes in the washing machine in the garage.

FELICIA Are you wearing your mask?

Luis suddenly puts on a colorful Lucha Libre-type mask.

FELICIA Are you joking?

LUIS What? You don’t like my mask?

FELICIA That cannot protect you from the virus and it’s ridiculous. . . even though it is funny.

Luis takes off his Lucha Libre-type mask. He holds up a surgical-style cloth mask to his face.

LUIS (Re: surgical-style mask) A man like me wearing a mask like this can be dicey.

FELICIA Wear the mask. And gloves. Whenever you go to the store or wherever. Please.

LUIS So you don’t hate me?

FELICIA I don’t.

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LUIS I messed up so bad. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought we could all talk about our DACA status together. The whole cast. Like a family.

FELICIA I get it.

LUIS Is that why you FaceTimed me? To tell me you forgive me?

FELICIA Maybe. I also need your advice.

LUIS Go for it.

FELICIA I don’t know if I can do this, Luis. (beat) It was hard enough to think about acting in the world before the virus hit. . . a world where actors like you and me have to fight tooth and nail to find work. . . a world where there is systemic racism that keeps actors of color out of mainstream theaters, films and TV shows. . . a world where if there is a role, a spot, a place to work, then it goes to the actor who most clearly fits the Latinx slot. . . and I don’t. . . my family is a mix. . . of Spanish, Lebanese and Mexican cultures. . . I don’t have that traditional look.

Luis puts on his Lucha Libre-type mask again.

LUIS What about this look? (as Lucha Libre wrestler) We’re fighters, Felicia. Luchadores. We’re gonna keep fighting.

Luis roars, a sotto-voce, late-night-and-people-are-sleeping kind of roar.

LUIS Rrrrrooooaaarrr. (beat) Come on. . .

After some initial hesitation, Felicia replicates the roar.

FELICIA Rrrrrooooaaarrr.

LUIS There’s la luchadora.

They sotto-voce roar together.

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FELICIA and LUIS Rrrrrooooaaarrr.

They both laugh as Luis takes off his mask.

FELICIA You know. . . I want to play lots of amazing roles. . . I want to play doctors, lawyers, scientists, politicians, painters, poets. . . I want to perform Shakespeare, and Lope de Vega, and Calderon de la Barca, and Chekhov and Lorca and Brecht. . . but. . . (beat) But what will this world be like after? . . . with fewer opportunities. . . for us.

LUIS Then we’ll make our own opportunities.

FELICIA Okay, but what if DACA doesn’t last and all this training and trying and fighting was for nothing and I end up leaving this country forever?

LUIS Slow down. We still have our DACA status. So you’re not going anywhere.

FELICIA You know, I think Lupe gave us a false sense of hope that we could do this professionally. It’s one thing to have the lead in your college play, it’s another to navigate the world at large that is disintegrating before our eyes. Maybe I should become a nurse or a lawyer or an accountant or something else. I don’t know, Luis. I don’t know.

A few beats.

LUIS You have to keep acting, Felicia. You have to keep creating. You can’t think about what the results will be. You have passion. You have talent. You have a voice. You need to share that voice with the world no matter what is out there. You need to trust that gift inside of you, that gift that Lupe saw when she cast you as Finea in The Daffy Dame, that talent she sees in you to encourage you to pursue this career. It’ll be completely hard. There’ll be days where you want to quit, like today. But you can’t quit. We need you. The world needs you.

FELICIA I appreciate that Luis. I do. But I still feel a heaviness in my chest. I’m not sick, by the way. I just feel a heaviness like we are all collectively grieving for those we are losing and those we have lost, for the world we are losing. My great aunt in Mexico City passed away from the virus. I only met my tia once when I was really little. But my mom is pretty upset. And it’s like I go deep inside, I pray for my mom and my tia’s soul and my father and I wonder when I will ever see my parents again and I don’t

FOR AUTHORIZED DIGITAL USE ONLY 130 of 388 know if I can do this alone. I feel so alone, Luis. (beat) And I know I have a lot to be grateful for, I do. But there are some days, like today, when I question it all. . . my life. . . my purpose. . . my work. . . all of it. Maybe I would be better off moving to Méjico, leaving the U.S. for good. . . and starting over with my parents. I don’t know. I don’t know.

LUIS Keeping going deep inside. I pray too. Late at night like this when my brothers and parents are sleeping and the house is finally quiet. I sit up in my bed and I close my eyes and I pray hard. For my family. For myself. For our future. And I try to connect to that unknowing, mysterious divinity. . . that small voice inside that can whisper something to me. . . some word of guidance. . . direction. . . comfort. (beat) I’ll keep you in my prayers.

FELICIA I didn’t know you were religious.

LUIS I prefer the word spiritual. And yeah, I don’t advertise it. It’s more of a private thing.

FELICIA Pray for me, Luis. Pray for my parents. Pray for Lupe. Pray for us all.

LUIS I will.

A few beats.

FELICIA It’s late.

LUIS It is late.

FELICIA Thank you.

LUIS Hit me up anytime.

FELICIA One more thing. . .

LUIS Yes?

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FELICIA Promise me.

LUIS Okay. . .

FELICIA Promise me you will stay optimistic. Promise me you will stay strong. Promise me you will see the possibilities in this world. Promise me you will keep fighting.

LUIS If you promise me one thing. . .

FELICIA Okay. . .

LUIS Promise me you’ll keep calling me.

FELICIA Deal.

LUIS Deal.

FELICIA Bye.

LUIS Adios.

FELICIA Arrivederci.

LUIS Sayonara.

FELICIA Au revoir.

LUIS Hasta la vista.

FELICIA Hasta la próxima.

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LUIS Bye.

FELICIA Pray for me. Please? Por favor? Bye.

They end the call. Lights fade.

End of play.

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THE ART OF COPING

Idris Goodwin

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The Art of Coping was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Sara Rademacher.

Cast: COPING ARTIST………………………………………………………………………………………………Vishay Singh

The Art of Coping is written for the web screen-think Zoom or Skype or YouTube, and it’s live, and this voice is by no means that of a pro. This person is like anybody else. They are making it up as they go, hoping someone on the other end is listening. -Idris Goodwin

Idris Goodwin is a playwright, break-beat poet, and director of the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center at Colorado College. His plays include And in This Corner Cassius Clay, How We Got On, Hype Man, and This Is Modern Art. Goodwin serves on the advisory boards of Theatre for Young Audiences/USA and Children’s Theatre Foundation of America.

[email protected] www.idrisgoodwin.com

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THE ART OF COPING

By Idris Goodwin

The Coping Artist, a young adult, speaks to their audience on some sort of live stream.

First: peanut m and ms. I know, I know. The red and blue dyes, the refined sugar, the corporate malfeasance. . . . But they are peanut and chocolate, a perfect union

Each one a tiny hug. Your righteousness does not feel like a tiny hug.

The Art of Coping requires 10 seasons of the classic sitcom Friends I know, I know Some things. . . problematic But I was 12 first time I saw it and right now going back to age 12 years old feels better this time around

A yoga mat. . . . But don't do yoga on it! I mean, of course if yoga is your—like, do yoga if you wanna do yoga— But The Art of Coping requires a mat—take it outside when the sun is out Or when there are clouds

I like to lay on it I don't want no grass stains I lay and I close my eyes and I imagine that I am doing yoga

One time I fell asleep for 5 hours

Which reminds me— Sleep If you can get it

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My sister has two kids Tw i n s , 8 m o n t h s o l d Gets about 3 hours of sleep average So—if you don't have twins Sleep

But not too much Sleep can be a seesaw And when your toes tap on the top of depression—

Let’s not even go there

Next—in The Art of Coping mantras are important

We lean back in the chair Not slouch and we close our eyes

And we begin

You are not alone We are in this together You The roommate who is never here anymore The guy next door The people who bought drugs from the guy next door Together The nice lady at the laundromat who is always arguing with Judge Mathis The barista you regret Your priest You are not alone We are in this together Your family Your sister is not living in another country with her twins and gorgeous Haitian soul mate She is here Your parents are looking down, protecting, and quietly judging Together

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(breath)

Next I burn sage Next open a window Next say a prayer Next

I have to let my toes touch the other side of the see saw And feel it

Just feel it

And eat another m and m And one more

Close the window Roll up the mat Another m and m

Stay awake Pretend you don't remember how it’ll work out between Ross and Rachel

Think fondly of that year you were 12

Every day add a new mantra

Even though you feel you are alone You are not alone in that feeling

. .

Oh and I almost forgot Last one is so important This is the best one

The Coping Artist puts on a song and dances for 30 seconds.

The dance should be a dance, not too artsy or too comical

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Real—let the performer be themselves for 30 seconds

But it has to be real and they have to be different when it’s over.

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TALK TOMORROW A Video Conference Play for Two Adults

Idris Goodwin

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Talk Tomorrow was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Nicole Zahner.

Cast: YOUNGER SIBLING…………………………………………………………………………………………..Dillon Redd OLDER SIBLING……………………………………………………………………………………………….Mario Yanes

[email protected] www.idrisgoodwin.com

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TALK TOMORROW A Video Conference Play for Two Adults

By Idris Goodwin

Characters: Younger Sibling Older Sibling

<> indicates 1.5 second intervals of silence in which our characters decide whether to talk or wait, search for what to say. . . .

YOUNGER SIBLING Hey

OLDER SIBLING Hey

YS Good?

OS I guess

YS Maintaining?

OS Yep

YS Day by day

OS Day by day

YS Good as we can

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OS Yeah

YS Did you see what they said on the—

OS Uh huh

YS Good God what do they—

OS What was that?

YS Can you not hear me?

OS Ugh These damn computer video—

YS Right I miss the rotary

OS I know

YS Right. The rotary. Remember the rotary?

OS Remember Grandma had the

YS Yup, yup

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OS And if you touched it

YS You better not touch it

OS Yeeeaaah

<> <>

YS So I just been workin

OS Oh yeah

YS They got me workin

OS Uh Huh

YS Cuz they got the remote site

OS Oh

YS You know people still have to

OS Yup

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YS You hear from Mom?

OS Phone tag

YS Dad?

OS (A sound)

YS Yeah I know. He’s trying.

You good tho?

OS Yeah

YS Like your situation and all that?

OS My situation

YS Yeah

OS My situation

YS You on Venmo or Cashapp?

OS What?

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YS Venmo or Cashapp. For—

OS I’m alright

YS You got food?

OS They can't evict me

YS Right but do you got food?

OS I’m eatin—look at me—come on look at me I’m eatin

YS Alright because you got to keep your immune system

OS I know

YS Right

YS Yeah Yolanda’s been making all sorts of new stuff And it’s all amazing

OS Hell of a cook

YS This is like stuff from when we were dating

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OS Oh yeah?

YS Yeah so—it’s not ALL bad

YS You know

YS So. . .

YS Well, it’s good to

OS Yep

YS We’ll talk

OS All right

YS Talk tomorrow

OS . . .

YS Talk tomorrow?

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OS You ever think maybe we deserve this shit?

YS What was that?

OS Nevermind—

YS Do we deserve this?

OS We deserve this

YS . . .

OS Its like the prophecy

YS Prophe—no, no

OS YS About the last days no when all of man’s sins are brought back to his doorstep no That is what this feels like something so powerful that’s only gonna grow more powerful I mean it-is-Lebron-James It is unstoppable And it is eating through us We are scared back into our caves hoarding what little feeble meager Hey scraps we can Hey We will weather this.

When I think about it When I think about the enormity of it You can’t think like that It has to be day by day

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OS (cont’d) YS (cont’d) moment by moment we have to just no live in this moment

Hey

THIS IS ME LIVING IN THE MOMENT ...... I am scared in this moment No not scared I am real in this moment

This moment is telling me This moment is telling me That it is on fire This moment is howling in pain And people like you Saying it’s not ALL bad Yin and fucking Yang

okay. . . We are dying

This is the bottom of the slide We are about to fly off the slide I hear you. . . And land face first in the mud

YS You gotta make sure you eat And you rest and call mom

OS I will—

YS Hey um I think I just heard Yolanda I think she needs

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OS Yeah tell her I said

YS Yeah

Okay

OS Okay

YS I love you

OS Yeah

YS Hey

OS Yeah

YS I need you to

OS I know I know

YS Good because

OS I know

YS Alright?

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OS Yeah

YS Talk tomorrow?

OS Talk tomorrow

End

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DO NOT GO, MY LOVE

Enid Graham

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Do Not Go, My Love was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Daniel Andres Blanco.

Cast: SUE…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Sara Neal CHRISTOPHER…………………………………………………………………………………………………Aaron Arpon

When I first heard from Risa Brainin about writing a short play for Alone, Together, my first thought was, “I can’t do that.” I live in New York City, and we had just begun our quarantine. My husband and I were both out of work with our projects “indefinitely postponed.” My three children were suddenly being homeschooled, and I was desperately afraid for my family and neighbors. Our life had been turned upside down, and our beautiful city was beginning the horrible upward climb on the Covid-19 new cases graph that is, by now, too familiar. I couldn’t imagine writing anything. But, after a few weeks, I began to think about the wonderful UCSB students I had the good fortune to work with in the LAUNCH PAD program in 2019. I felt very sorry that these talented young people were having their school year so disrupted—many of them in their senior year. So, I sat down at my kitchen table to try to write something to contribute. And in trying to help keep the students’ creative spark alive through this crisis, I was able to reconnect with my own creative life. Do Not Go, My Love is a small play about humans connecting in hard times and the hopeful dream of a better future when we can all be together again. -Enid Graham

Enid Graham is a writer and actress living in New York City, where she is a fellow in the Lila Acheson Wallace Playwriting Program. In 2019, her play What Martha Did received a preview production in the LAUNCH PAD series at UCSB. Her play Ruth was recently seen at the 2018 National Playwrights Conference at the O’Neill Center and the New TACTics 2017 New Play Festival in NYC. What Martha Did, was a finalist for the 2015 National Playwrights’ Conference and a semi-finalist in the Blue Ink Playwriting Festival in Chicago. Other plays include: Pathological Venus (current finalist NPC), Something Unrecognizable, and For I Know the Plans I Have for You.

enidgraham.com Or contact Gregg Klein at [email protected]

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DO NOT GO, MY LOVE

By Enid Graham

Characters: SUE—a young woman, maybe thirty CHRISTOPHER—a young man of about 20

(A Zoom window is open, showing a woman, Sue, waiting. Sue wears comfortable at- home clothes and maybe a cardigan. Her hair is in a loose ponytail. She has been waiting a long time and is doing the kind of things one does while alone on hold, maybe eating something or singing to herself or yawning and scratching. Suddenly, another Zoom window opens and a young man dressed in a button down shirt appears. He speaks with the flat voice of someone who has had to repeat the same thing a million times.)

CHRISTOPHER TeleGov Financial Helpline, hello I’m Christopher. How may I assist you today?

SUE (Jumping up, surprised) Oh hello! Hello, hello! Finally, a person! Hello, hello, hello! (she laughs) I can’t tell you, I’ve been. . . I’ve been waiting for like, for like forever! So hello to you! Wow, so glad to see someone’s face. Hello, person! Wow!

CHRISTOPHER How may I assist you?

SUE Did you know, now I know this isn’t your fault so I’m not saying that, but I wonder if you know how long the wait is to get through on this line? It’s like, I mean, like hours a day. By which I mean hours for several days. Now, like I say I know this isn’t your fault—Christopher, right?—but I just thought you should know in case you have some kind of meeting with, you know higher-up types and then you could maybe mention that you are killing people out here with the waiting! I started on Thursday of last week and was on hold for several hours but on that day I had to get off because I got a delivery. Anyway, after I disinfected the box and then disinfected myself and all that, it was pretty close to five so I thought, “Tomorrow!” And the next day, Friday, well I got kind of a late start cause on Thursday I couldn’t sleep, plus I had a wee little cocktail and I—too much information!—anyway, suffice it to say I got a late start on Friday and couldn’t get through again. Then on Monday I got up nice and early and called right away, and after about twenty tries I got through to being on hold, and there I waited until about three when suddenly a recorded voice came over the thing

FOR AUTHORIZED DIGITAL USE ONLY 154 of 388 and said, “We are sorry. Due to increased activity, we are unable to process your call at this time. Please try again later,” and it disconnected me! And on the screen, it changed from the holding page thing, you know with the logo, to this small animated piece of fruit, like a cherry with a stem, but the cherry had a face with a little half- smile and eyes with eyebrows going up and one little gloved hand making this “oh well” gesture. Just like, “sorry!” I would love to know who designed that, who thought that, after holding for five hours and then getting cut off for no reason, it would somehow make it better to show a shrugging piece of fruit. Like, as if someone who had just wasted half their day and still wasn’t any closer to getting their money that they desperately need for their rent or for food or whatever would see this little cherry man and be like, “Oh haha! What a cute fruit. I’m so hungry, but it makes me feel better to see that cute little guy.” And that night I got pretty depressed, started thinking about everything and how crappy it is and just that there’s no hope and even when it gets better it’s still going to be crappy and there will still be people that think they can control the masses with a cute little cherry man and that they are probably right and I had a couple more wee little cocktails and it was a bad night. BUT, I woke up and it was a new day. And I decided to have a new attitude. So today I was like, on a mission to get through, like this was my calling in life, like I was a Jedi in training and that little cherry-man was my Yoda, “Call again, you will,” and nothing was going to deter me, every time I saw that little cherry fucker I was just like, “Again!” and I’d try again right away and then finally, at long last, your face! Oh my god, I can’t believe it!

CHRISTOPHER (Small pause) How may I assist you?

SUE Right! Oh right. Down to business. Got it! (She shuffles around a large stack of papers.) OK, so I called, I need help with. . . let’s see. . . (she laughs again) It’s so good to have you here! Let me just gather my thoughts. . .

CHRISTOPHER We have a high volume of calls on hold, so if you could get to your question.

SUE Oh really? Well, those folks can just get to know little cherry man like I did. “I can’t get through cause some lady is talking too much.” (She makes the cherry-man face and gesture.) “Oh well!” (She laughs at her own joke.)

CHRISTOPHER Your question?

SUE OK, OK, sure. So. . . when I applied for my 492968B I seem to get through all the windows fine until the confirmation page. Then every time I get a code that says, (Reads notes) “File un-owned. Please contact server.”

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CHRISTOPHER (Typing as he speaks) I see. Did you register your LTM code?

SUE Yes.

CHRISTOPHER In both places?

SUE Yes, I believe I have the confirmation number somewhere here. . . .

CHRISTOPHER Sometimes people think they’ve completed both registrations but they didn’t respond to the verification email and then enter the temporary code that they received there. In which case the registration attempt is voided in seven days and they have to start over.

SUE I did that, though.

CHRISTOPHER You did?

SUE Yes.

CHRISTOPHER For both?

SUE Yes, I did! I think.

CHRISTOPHER You did or you think?

SUE I did. . . ?

CHRISTOPHER Because if you didn’t then all you need to do is go back to the website, choose Register My LTM Code, choose option 6A from the drop-down menu, click the begin button in the lower left hand corner, and fill in the registration—

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SUE I did that! I did it!

CHRISTOPHER You did?

SUE Yes! I think.

CHRISTOPHER OK, my suggestion is that you go back and re-register your LTM code in both places and see if that solves your issue. Thank you for calling the TeleGov Helpline, please stay on the line to answer a brief survey—

SUE Wait! Wait! Don’t hang up!

CHRISTOPHER Most issues are ones of incomplete LTM code registrations, so I’m confident that you will be able to resolve this problem by properly completing the—

SUE (Overlapping) No, no, NO! I’ve been trying to reach someone for days. I need help. I need that money, OK and I need help to get it and this is the fucking HELP LINE and you are supposed to help me!

CHRISTOPHER (Calmly) My suggestion is that you re-register your LTM code in both—

SUE You already said that! You already suggested that, Christopher!

CHRISTOPHER OK.

SUE But if we hang up and I try your “suggestion” and it doesn’t work then I have to wait on hold for days again and another week goes by and I don’t get the money and I really, really need that money—

CHRISTOPHER Please calm down.

SUE It’s easy for you to say, “Calm down,” when you’re sitting there at your job, but my office is closed, OK? It’s closed “for the foreseeable future” That’s what they said.

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Foreseeable. For as far as we are able see. We’re not all as lucky as you, OK? I guess you chose a good profession—pushing buttons, cutting people off and sending them to the cherry man—

CHRISTOPHER I won’t cut you off.

SUE What?

CHRISTOPHER I won’t cut you off.

SUE Oh. OK. Thank you. I’m sorry I yelled at you.

CHRISTOPHER Everyone is stressed out.

SUE Yes.

CHRISTOPHER Why don’t you give me your case number, and I’ll see what I can do.

SUE You will? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!

CHRISTOPHER Your number?

SUE OK, sure. Let’s see. . . it’s 9. . . 2. . . 8. . . .

CHRISTOPHER You can say it faster.

SUE Oh, sure, sure! 928—you got that—698-4444—that’s four fours—A like apple—633—Z like zoo—1918 like the flu pandemic haha—R like robot—L like lion—D like Dvorak— 99646

CHRISTOPHER So, that’s 928-698-4444—A like apple—633—Z like zoo—1918—R like robot—L like lion— D like (small pause) Dvorak—99646

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SUE Very good.

CHRISTOPHER Why did you say Dvorak?

SUE What?

CHRISTOPHER D for Dvorak?

SUE I don’t know. I love him, I guess.

CHRISTOPHER This is not my profession.

SUE What?

CHRISTOPHER You said that I chose a good profession, but this isn’t. . . . I worked here part time while I went to school, and when the school closed I moved to full time because of the demand, so I guess you’re right that I’m lucky to have a job, but it’s not my profession. (beat) Anyway, (typing) let me see what’s going on here—

SUE What is your profession?

CHRISTOPHER I was just in school.

SUE For what? To study what?

CHRISTOPHER I’m a singer. A classical singer.

SUE Oh, opera!

CHRISTOPHER Well, I was just a student, but that’s what I wanted, yes.

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SUE But you don’t anymore?

CHRISTOPHER Well, now. . . .

SUE You’re so young. Don’t opera singers have to be older, so their voices are mature?

CHRISTOPHER Yes.

SUE So you can keep singing and one day when everything is better then you can be what you want. Then you can sing at the Met!

CHRISTOPHER Well. . . .

SUE Or what’s the best place? La Scala! You can sing there! You will!

CHRISTOPHER It was just funny when you said Dvorak because before all this happened, when I was still in school the last thing I was working on was a. . . they have these little mini concerts and one of my pieces was Dvorak. Also Hageman, do you know him?

SUE No.

CHRISTOPHER Oh so beautiful. You would love it I bet. Anyway, it’s like the culmination of the year, you know. You get to have, not a full orchestra or anything of course but a few musicians and your family comes and anyway. . . .

SUE You didn’t get to do it?

CHRISTOPHER No.

SUE But you will.

CHRISTOPHER Maybe.

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SUE You will. One day you will.

CHRISTOPHER Maybe.

SUE Sing it for me now.

CHRISTOPHER What?

SUE Sing your. . . sing one of your songs, your pieces—

CHRISTOPHER What, no—

SUE Sing that one that you said I’d love, what did you say, Hangman?

CHRISTOPHER Hageman.

SUE I don’t know him at all. But I want to! Please. I want to hear it. I can imagine everything, the musicians and the stage and you in a suit. I’ll be in the audience, a full house, everyone seated around me, packed. All of us in the audience breathing together, excited. Waiting to hear you.

CHRISTOPHER You’re crazy.

SUE And you stride out onto the stage—I can see it! And we all settle, breathing lightly, just waiting for you to decide to begin. Then you take a deep breath and open your mouth and you sing. And as you sing your breath travels out in waves over all of us, carrying that beautiful sound that comes from deep inside your body, and all of us, hundreds and hundreds of us, we aren’t afraid or covering our faces, but instead we are looking up at you, toward your breath, toward the sound from deep inside you that is rolling over all of us and we are breathing it in together as if there was never anything to be afraid of.

(After a moment, Christopher begins to sing Richard Hageman’s “Do Not Go, My Love”)

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CHRISTOPHER (Singing) Do not go, my love, without asking my leave I have watched all night, and now my eyes are heavy with sleep; I fear lest I lose you when I am sleeping. Do not go, my love, without asking my leave. I start up and stretch my hands to touch you I ask myself, “Is this a dream?” Could I but entangle your feet with my heart, And hold them fast to my breast! Do not go, my love, without asking my leave.

(Perhaps, as he finishes singing, we hear the sound of an audience full of people, the crowd of people all together in one room that Sue and Christopher remember and hope to see again, cheering and clapping.)

End of play

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ALL THE CRANES IN THE WORLD

Arlene Hutton

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All the Cranes in the World was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Maria Zelaya Santillan. Eric Nightengale was the dramaturg.

Cast: MEREDITH…………………………………………………………………………………………….Andalyn Honselaar

The never-seen child in All the Cranes in the World is based on and named after my five-year-old cousin Vivien. As I began to craft a script around her, I wondered how to make the play active, not knowing what objects would be available to the actor in this time of quarantine. I thought origami would be a good prop, something that could be created wherever the actor was living and performing. That reminded me of the legend of the origami cranes, and the monologue came together.

Arlene Hutton is an alumna of New Dramatists, member of Ensemble Studio Theatre, MacDowell Fellow, and three-time winner of the Samuel French Short Play Festival. Hutton’s plays, including Last Train to Nibroc (Drama League Best Play Nomination) and Letters to Sala, have been produced Off-B’way and worldwide. She teaches at The Barrow Group. arlenehutton.com US Pat McLaughlin Beacon Artists Agency 212-736-6630 [email protected]

UK Meg Davis Ki Agency 020 3214 8287 [email protected]

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ALL THE CRANES IN THE WORLD

a monologue

By Arlene Hutton

Character: MEREDITH

April, 2020. Meredith, a college-aged student, is on FaceTime with Vivi, her five- year-old niece. We see Meredith on a screen as Vivi would be seeing her. We do not see Vivi.

MEREDITH Happy Birthday, Vivien!!! It’s your Aunt Meredith. You are five years old! Happy Birthday! Wow! Five years old! What does five feel like? Vivi, honey, I can’t hear you. I just see your mouth moving. It’s your Aunt Meredith. Can you see me? Can you hear me? Vivi? Vivi? Is there a little drawing of a microphone on the screen? It has a line through it. Your mike is off.

Meredith jumps back, startled by something she sees on the screen.

Oh, look at the—what are you holding?—a bunny! That’s so cute. Was that a birthday present? I had a stuffed bunny when I was— Vivi, when you hold the bunny so close to the camera I can’t see you. That’s better. What a cute bunny. What’s its name? What’s the bunny’s name? Vivi, I can’t hear you. Your mike is turned off. There’s a, do you know what a cursor is, oh, wait you’re not on the computer, are you on your Dad’s phone? Oh, no, your dad’s on the phone in the other room. Are you on his iPad? Are you on Daddy’s iPad?

Meredith sees Vivi start to move.

No, don’t go get your dad. Don’t go get Daddy. Stay here with me. Daddy has to be on the phone now. You and I are going to have fun together. I’m babysitting you. It’s like I’m there with you, right? Just like Christmas break, remember? You and I spent the day together while your daddy and mommy were shopping. So it’s your birthday, and I know your mommy wanted to be here for your birthday, but you’re going to have to wait. She. . . she told me to tell you happy birthday! She did! I talked to her three days ago and. . . I know! I’m going to make something for you for your birthday, and I will mail it to you. Look, look, no, don’t put the bunny on the screen again. Stay with me. Stay here. I’m all alone in my apartment, and you are the very best company and I want to spend time with you on your birthday. Look what I’m making. Meredith holds up a white origami crane. Look at this! See its wings? See how I can move the wings? It’s a bird. It’s called a crane. I’m going to make a thousand of them and put them on

FOR AUTHORIZED DIGITAL USE ONLY 165 of 388 string so they can fly around my apartment. Won’t that be pretty? And you know what? I can make a crane for you. Right now. Oh, hello Mr. Bunny! Vivi, I can’t see you when you hold the, Vivi can you hear me? I can’t see you when— Oh, there you are. That’s great, keep the bunny in your lap. If you keep the bunny in your lap I’ll make him a crane, too. I’ll make you two cranes, one for you and one for Mr. Bunny. Okay? Vivi, don’t go. No, don’t go get your daddy. He’s busy on the phone. Don’t bother your daddy, he’s talking to important people on the phone. Vivi, I still can’t hear you but I think you’re saying “mommy.” No, daddy’s not talking on the phone with mommy, she’s at the hospital. Mommy’s at the hospital. Stay here. Stay on screen with me, no, not the bunny, I want to see your sweet face. I know. Stay here and. . . and. . . watch me make your crane. . . and I’ll tell you a story! I’ll tell you a story about when I was five years old. When I was five years old, just like you, my older sister was about to graduate from college. And you know who my older sister is? That’s your mommy! Yes, I was five years old and your mommy was, what, twenty-one, and—wow, that’s the exact age I am now. 21. When your mommy was my age she was finishing college, and I got really really sick. And I was in the hospital and your mommy came every day and sometimes spent the night, and she helped take care of me and I got all better. And that’s when your mommy decided to go to medical school.

A beat of realization, then:

Your mommy worked really hard to become a doctor. And she’s a really good doctor. In a big hospital. And that’s the story about how your mommy became a doctor. I guess it’s my fault. It’s all my fault that your mommy became a doctor.

Meredith chokes up.

Your mommy’s gonna come home soon. I know she is. And that’s why I’m making the cranes, as fast as I can. There’s this legend. A story. From Japan. That if you make a thousand cranes you get your wish granted. Meredith sees another person on FaceTime. Oh, hi, Paul! We don’t have sound from your end. How is she. . . I can’t hear you. . . Oh, my god, is that a thumbs up? Oh, my gosh, she’s off the. . . Just nod. Vivi! Vivi! Happy Birthday! Thanks, Paul! Oh, okay. Vivi, your daddy needs to get back on his phone. Stay here with me. I have something to show you. See this crane I made? Look at the crane, Vivi! It’s like the ones I’m going to make for you and Mr. Bunny. And guess what? I can make the crane fly! See his wings move? See how I can make him fly? Yes, your bunny can fly, too. See the crane?

Meredith holds up another crane.

Here’s another one.

Meredith holds up a third crane.

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And another. Three cranes. One for you and one for your daddy and one for your mommy. And I’ll make another one for Mr. Bunny. Vivi, look! Look at the cranes fly right into your screen.

Meredith makes the three origami cranes fly so close to the screen that we see nothing but the cranes.

End of play

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NEITHER HERE NOR THERE

Arlene Hutton

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Neither Here Nor There was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Nicole Zahner. Eric Nightengale was the dramaturg.

Cast: KATIE………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Hayley O’Toole ALEXANDRA………………………………………………………………………………………………….Sheila Correa

UK Meg Davis Ki Agency 020 3214 8287 [email protected]

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NEITHER HERE NOR THERE

By Arlene Hutton

Characters: KATIE, 21, a junior at a small, exclusive liberal arts college in Florida. ALEXANDRA, 21, her roommate since freshman year, also a college junior.

Time: Sometime after Spring Break, March or April 2020.

Place: An online video session.

Katie and Alexandra on separate video screens; both can be seen simultaneously. Katie is in her childhood bedroom, Fox News heard from another room.

KATIE Oh, my god, here you are!

ALEXANDRA Hi, there! Finally!

KATIE Oh, my god, your hair!

ALEXANDRA I know.

A beat. Fox News is playing in the background.

KATIE (Calling off) Can somebody turn down the TV?

ALEXANDRA Well, you look great.

KATIE (Calling off) Thanks! (To Alexandra) I missed your birthday.

ALEXANDRA I haven’t had cell service.

KATIE Well, Happy Birthday. We haven’t had internet—

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ALEXANDRA Me, neither, until now.

KATIE It feels like ages.

ALEXANDRA Yeah.

KATIE Everything’s changed.

ALEXANDRA Yeah.

KATIE I miss you.

ALEXANDRA I miss you, too.

KATIE I’d thought I’d see you in a week. Who knew we weren’t going to go back after spring break. I like didn’t bring anything home from the dorm, have to wash my clothes like twice a week, unless I wear my sister’s. You didn’t even take your computer.

ALEXANDRA I know. Thank goodness I packed my ipad.

KATIE Oh! How was the cruise?

ALEXANDRA It was. . . my stepdad, my mom. . . it’s okay, wow, seems like it’s been forever, it’s been okay. How are you doing? Tell me everything. How’s things in Florida?

KATIE I’m okay, we’re all here in the house on Anna Maria Island, I’m sharing my old bedroom with my sister and my cousin, it’s like high school all over again, and with my grandmother and my aunt there’s like seven of us.

ALEXANDRA But you’re right by that beautiful beach.

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KATIE Yeah, great, it’s closed. And you know how small our house is. Like built in the fifties or sixties. Three bedrooms. One bathroom. My dad and my grandmother listen to Fox news all day. It’s a nightmare.

ALEXANDRA And everybody’s healthy?

KATIE Yup.

ALEXANDRA So you’re good.

KATIE Same old spring break. Not like when you came to visit freshman year.

ALEXANDRA That was a great spring break.

KATIE It was. The best. You know, when you grow up by the beach spring break is redundant. A few weeks ago I was picking up as many waitress shifts as I could get, but now the bars are all closed. And the tips during spring break aren’t nearly as good as during the Christmas holidays or even the summer. But oh, my gosh, you were on a cruise! A cruise! My mom and dad went on a cruise to the Bahamas for their twenty-fifth. My dad gained like ten pounds in four days. Are you at your dad’s now in DC?

ALEXANDRA I’m still with my mom and stepdad.

KATIE I thought you didn’t like your new stepdad.

ALEXANDRA He’s turning out okay.

KATIE That’s great.

ALEXANDRA Maybe third time’s the charm.

KATIE ‘cause, I know your real dad’s a nightmare.

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ALEXANDRA He wasn’t so bad when I was younger.

Silence. Then, simultaneously:

KATIE ALEXANDRA So— Have you talked to--

They laugh.

KATIE You go.

ALEXANDRA No, you.

KATIE Who have you talked to?

ALEXANDRA Just you.

KATIE What?

ALEXANDRA We were kinda unplugged. We didn’t even know much about the virus, not until we finally could get wi-fi again.

KATIE We haven’t had wi-fi either. It went down right after, and Brighthouse won’t send anyone out. I think my mom forget to send the payment, or the mail was late. Anyway Mom called our neighbor, they’re up north, and we’re using theirs, but it’s weak and drops out.

ALEXANDRA That’s terrible.

KATIE My mom’s home all day. The salon closed. And my dad’s sitting around, he was laid off.

ALEXANDRA I’m so sorry.

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KATIE Yeah. (Silence) I should tell you. . .

ALEXANDRA What?

KATIE I don’t think I can come back.

ALEXANDRA Basically the semester’s over anyway.

KATIE I mean in the fall.

ALEXANDRA It’s our last year.

KATIE Yeah. I know. I’m sorry.

ALEXANDRA We’re gonna to finally have an apartment together. We’ve been planning this since we were freshman.

KATIE Maybe I need a gap year.

ALEXANDRA Well, you’re getting a gap semester now.

KATIE I mean like for real. Like a full time job.

ALEXANDRA Are there even going to be any jobs?

KATIE Wow. That’s helpful.

ALEXANDRA I didn’t mean. . . (She stops.)

KATIE My dad says I don’t need college.

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ALEXANDRA Your dad watches Fox news. Promise me. Promise you’ll do everything it takes to finish your senior year. You’re so close! We already put down a deposit on an apartment. We can make this work. I can help. I can take the bigger bedroom and pay more.

KATIE I thought I should tell you sooner than later.

ALEXANDRA Something will work out.

KATIE I don’t know what.

ALEXANDRA Don’t give up.

A really awkward silence.

KATIE So. You were on a cruise. What was that like?

ALEXANDRA Stuck with my mom and my stepdad. . . what’s to tell?

KATIE We always tell each other everything. Don’t we?

ALEXANDRA Not everything.

KATIE Uh, yes we do.

ALEXANDRA You didn’t tell me about the night with Spencer when you didn’t come back to the dorm.

KATIE Nothing happened with Spencer.

ALEXANDRA Okay.

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KATIE We fell asleep!

ALEXANDRA Yeah, right.

KATIE You know I don’t go for those rich guys anyway.

ALEXANDRA What do you mean?

KATIE Those rich guys. The guys we always joke about, the ones with trust funds, that get all drunk for their twenty-first birthday because now they are even richer than they were on their allowance. And they don’t even notice that this girl behind the stir-fry station in the cafeteria is also sitting next to them in English 101. I mean remember when during orientation when we saw all those BMWs and Mercedes in the parking lot, and talked about what are we doing here?

ALEXANDRA Don’t you have a full scholarship?

KATIE It doesn’t cover everything.

ALEXANDRA Promise me you’re gonna come back.

KATIE Where are you, anyway?

ALEXANDRA I’m, I don’t know where. We’re somewhere. We’re anchored.

KATIE Oh, my gosh, you’re still on the ship? Aren’t you worried? The cruise ships are the worst. Except for nursing homes. Thank goodness my grandmother is with us. What cruise ship are you on?

ALEXANDRA I’m on a private boat. My stepdad—

KATIE You mean like he has a. . . yacht?

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ALEXANDRA It’s chartered.

KATIE You went on a yacht for spring break?

ALEXANDRA Yeah.

KATIE And didn’t tell me?

ALEXANDRA I didn’t know.

KATIE You’re on a yacht.

ALEXANDRA It was a surprise.

KATIE Like with like a crew and a chef and everything.

ALEXANDRA I met up with my mom in New York and she said, we’re flying to Barcelona, and the next thing I knew we were on this. . . yacht. It was a surprise for my birthday.

KATIE Your twenty-first birthday.

ALEXANDRA Yeah.

KATIE (After a beat) Do you have a trust fund?

ALEXANDRA (After a beat) Yeah.

Silence.

KATIE Wow. You think you know someone.

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ALEXANDRA Katie—you have to come back to school next year.

KATIE Maybe I’ll finish at a state school, online.

ALEXANDRA I can help you.

KATIE I’m not sure it’s the right school for me. (After a beat) We promised to tell each other everything.

ALEXANDRA I never lied to you.

KATIE Yeah.

ALEXANDRA Have you ever lied to me?

Silence.

KATIE It wasn’t Spencer.

ALEXANDRA What?

KATIE I spent the night with Kelvy.

ALEXANDRA Kelvy?

KATIE Yeah.

ALEXANDRA Like the Kelvy I dumped? Like the Kelvy who started dating Elizabeth?

KATIE Yeah.

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ALEXANDRA They’re engaged.

KATIE Nothing happened. He talked all night long about their wedding plans. Like it’s gonna be on a beach and he and Elizabeth will arrive by helicopter. . .

ALEXANDRA And you listened to that for the entire night.

KATIE Yeah.

ALEXANDRA And never told me?

KATIE Nope.

A moment of silence. Alexandra breaks the tension by laughing. Katie joins in.

ALEXANDRA I borrowed your blue shirt once without asking.

KATIE Oh, I knew about that.

ALEXANDRA You did?

KATIE Someone posted a photo.

ALEXANDRA And you never said anything?

KATIE You’re my best friend.

Silence.

ALEXANDRA So you’ll think about it? Coming back to school?

From the other room, Fox News gets louder.

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KATIE Sorry about the noise.

ALEXANDRA My stepdad watches it, too. When he can get it. Non-stop.

KATIE For real? Your rich stepdad watches Fox News?

ALEXANDRA For real.

A shared silence while this sinks in.

KATIE I’ve missed you.

ALEXANDRA I’ve missed you, too.

A beat.

KATIE Alexandra?

ALEXANDRA Yeah?

KATIE When you look outside, what do you see?

ALEXANDRA Water. Waves.

KATIE Wow.

ALEXANDRA It’s just water and a beach. Same as your beach in Florida.

They smile at each other.

End of play.

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A PANDEMIC ROMANCE MONOLOGUE

Lila Rose Kaplan

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A Pandemic Romance Monologue was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Iris Skeen. Liz Engelman was the dramaturg.

Cast: ROWAN…………………………………………………………………………………………….Catherine Ballantyne

Lila Rose Kaplan's plays shine light on the stories we don’t tell about women. Productions include: Huntington Theatre, Second Stage, South Coast Repertory, American Repertory Theatre, Merrimack Repertory Theatre, Geva Theatre Center. Development includes: Arena Stage, EST, CTG, NYTW, PlayPenn, and The Lark. Lila Rose lives in Somerville, MA with her marine biologist husband and her curious daughter.

www.lilarose.org

Contact: Leah Hamos at The Gersh Agency—[email protected]

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PANDEMIC ROMANCE MONOLOGUE

By Lila Rose Kaplan

Character: ROWAN, late-30s, any race.

Doorbell. Rowan wears a Renaissance gown and holds a package. The dress is red velvet, deeply cut, the works. She does not look like someone who should be wearing a gown. She looks too modern for the gown.

ROWAN My husband has a problem. He can’t stop buying romance novels. They lie in stacks all over our bedroom. They snuggle together, making friction. They keep me up at night gazing at each other. There used to be books about statistics, but now there are British Lady Scientists who fall in love with other British Lady Scientists and do unspeakable things under all those skirts.

There’s a pandemic outside. We should be making masks and worrying together. Also, we just moved into this house and we should be unpacking. Instead, he’s reading. Constantly. These romance novels are killing my marriage.

I wake up and I’m surrounded by True Love, Soul Mates and Happy Endings. I’m from New York. We can’t be happy. You people from California can be happy, but we can’t. We can be busy or disgusted or funny, we can be bitterly funny. But you’re not born in New York hoping for a happy ending. You might as well be dead. My husband suddenly wants to be happy. (Little beat) What did he order now?

She looks in the box. She inspects each book.

(Reading titles) Brazen and The Beast It Takes Two To Tumble And. . . A Thief in the Nude.

How can I compete with a thief in the nude? Seems like she has a lot of time to be naked and steal paintings.

Did you know the French word for orgasm is le petit mort? It means the little death. It means you basically die for a few moments while having an orgasm. Who has time to be dead right now? None of the women in these books seem busy. But I mean, they must have laundry. And bills to pay. And trash to take out— And work, right? There’s so much work to do. I’m an actuary, I assess risk. And the whole world is risk right now.

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Even reading a romance feels risky. I liked it better when my husband read books about math. He’s a math professor after all. I didn’t used to wonder who was naked on page 73 of his stats book. I didn’t used to imagine all the stroking and the gazing and well, the bosoms, while I read over his shoulder. When you read math over someone’s shoulder, it’s a form of connection. Oh, I remember that theorem. I haven’t seen that equation in a while. She’s the best. She was great in that model you made last year. But now, all this romance, I don’t know what to think. He thinks I’m sleeping on his shoulder while he reads, but really I’m—

When I first met my husband I had so much hope. I was brimming with the stuff. We would bottle it up and hand it out at the holidays to our dysfunctional families. He would cook and I would paint and there was this idyllic-ness to our days. But now there are stacks of paper everywhere. Bills and taxes and shopping lists. And so much dust. I’m allergic to dust. He got me this gown and I’m trying, I really am, but it’s hard to be romantic when you have a sinus infection. It’s hard to be a romantic heroine when there’s a pandemic outside.

We need to unpack. That’s being an adult. You suffer before you do the fun things, and then you’re so tired from suffering you skip the fun thing to get some sleep. You know what I’m talking about? I know you do. Women historically put their needs second. Well, my husband may need romance right now, but I need to unpack.

(Beat) Oh, you need me to sign? For the package. Sure. Sorry about that. Thanks for the romance. I mean the books. I mean—I didn’t mean we have a romance or even a connection, I’m a married woman and you’re a California mail lady with short interesting hair and intense eyes with just the right amount of sparkle. I just haven’t seen anyone in a few days except my husband who thinks he’s a Knight and it was just so nice to talk to someone who doesn’t think they’re a Knight. Do you know how loud all that Armor can be? I have very sensitive ears. I’m still talking. I’m sorry. Do you have a pen? I can sign

A small beat.

End of play.

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LES MOTS JUSTES, OR HOLD YOUR TONGUE

William Davies King

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Les Mots Justes, or Hold Your Tongue was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Jack Richman.

Cast: A………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Sara Neal B………………………………………………………………………………………………………….……Shekinah Bryant C………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Alyssa Longwill

I was hesitant about using a French title, but these three words seemed inevitable —“the right words.” Les mots justes are not just correct, they are exact, perfect, just what you need. When the virus crisis hit, I did not know what to say, much less write. I felt stunned, thunderstruck, which is what “astonished” literally means. With large gatherings canceled and the Trump administration utterly failing to cope, the social fabric was tearing apart and revealing the cruelties of history as cruelly present as ever. In this damaged environment, the theater becomes a lens everted to see the affliction as worse than a mere virus. Health is good laughter and love. It’s breathing deeply without constraint—or an infection or a knee. Breathing is spirit. It is what love and laughter celebrate, but together, not alone. Everyone I know is in a search for some fitting expression, yet also trying to avoid faux pas—the exact wrong thing. Hold your tongue, but not literally! Speak your piece. Peace. -William Davies King

William Davies King is Distinguished Professor of Theater at UC Santa Barbara. He’s published several books of theater scholarship, recently concerning Eugene O’Neill. His critical edition of The Iceman Cometh is just out from Yale UP. He’s also the author of Collections of Nothing (Chicago) and a dramatic adaptation/sequel, Collections of Nothing More or Less. https://www.theaterdance.ucsb.edu/people/william-davies-king williamdaviesking.com

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LES MOTS JUSTES, OR HOLD YOUR TONGUE

By William Davies King

Characters: A B C

The characters are all human beings in remote spaces. Otherwise, whatever. The casting could go many different ways. But be aware: any casting choice will end up telling an incidental story of difference—we’re all different—so notice where it takes you.

A, B, and C are in a remote space. The “buzz” is a penalty sound. Could be an actual buzzer. Could be a whistle or airhorn. Could be a finger snap or a red light. Could be different effects at different moments.

Note: the following directions refer to the way Zoom worked in June 2020. If it works differently in whatever digital medium you are using, find a way to adapt. The point is that they are all alone and yet strangely in the same space, so they notice each other, laugh and frown and point at each other, even make eye contact, in a way.

A is alone, looks right, looks left—nothing. A looks up, sees nothing more than a crack in the ceiling, perhaps, nothing important. Sighs. Oppressively bored, needy.

Suddenly, B is there, in the next box, and B is looking directly (through the box, you could say) at A. A quickly notices and looks directly at B, quizzically, hopefully. Beat. B looks back and is glad to see A watching. B gives a little nod of greeting. A nods back. They draw closer to each other.

Suddenly, with a buzz, C is there, in the box below, looking up at them, first one, then the other. A and B both immediately notice C and draw back from each other— to an appropriate distance—and C looks away from them to the camera. All three stare at the camera. Beat. Nothing interesting, nothing important. Who has anything? Anybody? No.

Finally, A gets restless, sighs, looks to B, who doesn’t notice, looks to C, who doesn’t notice, looks back at the camera. Then B gets restless, looks around. Sighs. Even C gets a bit restless, sighs. Boredom is turning to frustration for them all.

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A moans, then looks up and addresses the camera. The others notice. Everything is heard by everybody at all times, and sometimes that’s uncomfortable, sometimes welcome.

A I have this urge—it’s a longing, I guess—to social proximate.

B Prosecute?

A Proximate.

B Procreate?

C (Buzz) That’s inappropriate!

Each time C buzzes, A and B look down at C. But there comes a time when they start (mostly) ignoring C. They enjoy what they have together. C will have to overcome that.

A No, not appropriate, not prosecute or procreate. Proximate, PROXIMATE, and not approximate. Cut distance! Get close! Be nigh!

B Ah! I see. Proximate, in the sense of getting in the proximity of.

A Or with.

C (Buzz) That’s inappropriate!

B How about “un-distance”? Antisocial indistance.

A Counter-distance? De-distance?

B Desist!

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A Desist and cease!

B And seize!

C (Buzz) That’s inappropriate!

Pause

A Synonym.

B Cinnamon.

A Sinsemilla!

B Sin…

C (Buzz) . . .

B What????

C Sin. You know, all of that is just inappropriate.

B Sin-cerely??? (Laughs)

C You know the rules.

A (Slowly and deliberately) Syn. . . ec. . . doche. Synecdoche.

C I don’t know what that means.

B Part for the whole.

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C (Buzz) That’s definitely inappropriate!

B Oh, come on, it’s a term of poetry, of poetics, like a metaphor or a symbol. To say “the crown” instead of “the king,” or “plastic” instead of “credit card.” Part for the whole, you ass. Ass-ass-in. Assassin-8, 9, or 10.

C Just watch it, around here, in the remoteness, in the remotion, where we live. Behind the mask. Keep your social distance.

B And sense of humor. . . . Or honor. . . . Your sense of honor. . . . And offer.

C Huh?

B And honor and offer and honor and offer and honor. . .

C (Buzz) That’s so inappropriate!

A (Not to be outdone) Met. . . a. . . phor. Metaphor. I have this urge—it’s a longing, I guess—to meet a four.

B Or a ten!

A Metaten?

B Metamomma, metapoppa, met a whole lot of. . . (can’t come up with a good rhyme).

A Coppa? Loppa? Came a croppa?

B Secret shoppa?

A Table toppa? Crime stoppa?

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B We need a thesaurus.

A Hey, what’s a thesaurus? An intellectual dinosaur. That’s a joke.

B Something to take our minds off extinction.

C (Buzz) That’s inappropriate!

A Expiration.

B Spoilage date.

C You mean demise.

A Yeah, look at dem eyes! Dem deir eyes.

B Dem bones.

C (Buzz) That’s inappropriate. You should know better than that.

B Know better? No better or bitter.

A Nobiter dicta. (B and C are unsure) Get it?

B What’s that?

A Obiter dictum. “A judge’s incidental expression of opinion, not essential to the decision and not establishing precedent.”

B Really? All that in two words?

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A In short, an incidental remark. Dicta is the plural.

C Thanks for the lesson. Big help. I have a sudden urge—a longing, really—to strike you from the plural.

A Why? For not establishing precedent?

C Incidents. Insistent incidence.

B It’s like impudence, impunity, indecency.

C (Buzz) Watch it!

A (B might help with this) Indecision. In alphabetical order: inarticulacy, in- betweeniness, incisor, in denial, inelegance, infanticide.

B Ingeniousness.

A H. Inhale, no, inhibition,

B injury, inn-keeper,

A in-line skates, inmost thoughts, innocence, inoculation, in-plementation (that’s awkward), in-rest, in-sest. . .

C (Buzz) Hey!

A . . . intemperance, inutility, investments (blown), Inwit (the Agenbite of—that’s James Joyce)

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B Got it.

A in-ex-orably, oh, “Why, oh why, oh why oh, did I ever leave Ohio?” In-that. And in-zee in-zee in-zee.

B Zee zee zee—the comic book sound of snoring.

A And insolubility, the state of having no solution. Of being insolvent.

C (Buzz) I’m warning you! Enough with all this insistent in and in.

B You and your definition of what is appropriate!

A I’m the infinitive of definition: to define.

B Which leaves me indefinite, the infinitive of indefine? In de. . . In de. . . In de. . . In de end. . .

C In the end we are all . . . wandering.

Pause. There is something arresting about C’s choice of word.

B Or wondering.

A Earlier today, I think I spotted something, sort of shimmering, that was not a word. It was far off, out of reach. It was in the past or—“reliable sources confirm”—in the distant future. Don’t hold your breath.

C Actually, do hold your breath, forever.

B Breath not taken.

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A I didn’t know what to call it, this thing that I longed for, this far-off something. I couldn’t find the word or even an approximation of the word. I tried and tried, and I couldn’t get near. There should be a word there, anywhere, for anything. I ask myself, what is it?

B What is what?

A What is it?

B I’m afraid I cannot say.

(B disappears.)

A Cannot say.

C You took the words right out of my mouth.

(C disappears. A looks at the camera.)

A I have this urge.

(A moment, and then A disappears.)

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AULD LANG SYNE A Zoom-friendly play for the pandemic

Jenny Mercein

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Auld Lang Syne was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Risa Brainin.

Cast: DAN………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Irwin Appel ABBY………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Annie Torsiglieri MATTHEW…………………………………………………………………………………………………Michael Bernard KIDS………………………………………………………………………………………..Harry and Jackson Bernard

Whether it’s time on our hands due to social isolation, or fear of death, or some combination of the two, this pandemic has inspired many of us to reconnect with old friends. It’s also forced us all to spend way too much time staring at our faces on a computer screen (which, if you are over 40, isn’t that much fun). When I think back on Covid-19, these virtual reunions will stand out as silver linings. In a time of isolation and uncertainty and fear, the entire process of writing and rehearsing this play has brought me nothing but joy. I hope readers and audiences will feel the same. Thank you to Risa, Annie and everyone at UCSB for bringing this incredible community of artists together. Thanks to all the ex-boyfriends who inspired this play, and to the husband who gave me such great notes and ideas. -Jenny Mercein

Jenny Mercein is an actor, teacher, director, and writer. Along with KJ Sanchez, Jenny co-created X's and O's, a docudrama about football and traumatic brain injury (Berkeley Rep, Baltimore Center Stage). Her solo shows include Beautiful Mount Airy Lodge and Waiting. B.A.: Yale, M.F.A.: The University of Washington. www.jennymercein.com.

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AULD LANG SYNE A Zoom-friendly play for the pandemic

By Jenny Mercein

Characters: DAN, a man in his 40’s-60’s ABBY, a woman in her 40’s-60’s MATTHEW, a man in his 40’s-60’s

Author’s note: If possible, Abby and Matthew should be played by actors who are quarantining together, so they can appear in the same frame. In scene 2, Abby refers to having teenage boys. If the actors playing Abby and Matthew happen to have children of a different gender who want to play the off-stage voice screaming “Mom,” feel free to change the gender of the children Abby mentions. I am happy to consult on the song at the end if the actor playing Abby or the director wants suggestions.

Scene 1 Scene opens with DAN, a man in his 40’s-60’s, looking at himself in the computer screen/camera frame. He makes faces of disapproval at the image he sees, shifting the chair and position of computer to try to find a better angle, maybe adjusting lights in the room, opening a window shade, etc. Messes with his hair, maybe picks something out of his nose or teeth? He’s trying to look the best he can. . . but he’s a bit scruffy. He finally presses the button to start recording. He takes a big inhale, as if he will speak, then stops—he forgets how he wanted to begin? Or he just loses his nerve for a second?—He stops the recording, shakes it off, and hits record.

DAN Hey. Hi. It’s me. Dan. Blum. From high school. I know it’s been—Fuck.

He stops the recording. Maybe makes another physical adjustment. Starts again. Maybe a little too enthusiastic this time.

Hey! It’s me—

He freezes. Stops recording. Takes a deep breath. Starts again.

Hey Abby. It’s been a long time. God, I can’t get used to looking at myself. Okay, sorry. So, it’s me. Dan. From high school. I, I know it’s been forever, but, well, I’ve certainly got time on my hands these days so I thought I would reach out. How are you? I’ve thought of you so much over the years, and I was so excited to see your name on the RSVP list for the reunion this spring. I usually go to those things because I

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still live close by, but I know you’re all the way out there in Oregon. Anyway, I was so happy you were making the trip this time. I was really looking forward to seeing you. So, when I got the email today that they are officially canceling, I just thought, screw it! I’m reaching out. Carpe diem, right?

So, I thought I’d just tell you a little bit about myself and what I’ve been doing for the past, oh, 40 years or so. . . . I think the last time we spoke was during my first year at USC. Remember I went there to study film? Of course you do. Me and my Super-8 camera. And who could forget your star turn in my magnum opus “Cleopatra’s Revenge”? I still can’t believe I got you to hold that snake on camera. And all that fake blood? (He laughs.) Man, you put up with a lot. . .

Anyway, USC was hard. The students there were all just so. . . rich. Or at least that’s how it felt to me. So I ended up transferring back home to UNL in my third year. I just never fit in in California. And by that time your parents had moved. I could have tried harder to find you, but. . .

Well, needless to say, my dreams of becoming the next Scorsese dried up pretty fast being back in Nebraska. But I still work in film. Sort of. If you can believe it, I am a wedding videographer. I know. From horror movies to wedding videos. . . . Business was pretty great for a while. But recently, folks are just shooting stuff on their iphones. Kinda like me, right now. And now with this virus. . . . I’ve had 17 gigs cancel in the past 3 days. It’s pretty grim.

The irony of spending my life recording weddings is that I never made it down the aisle myself. Both my parents both died back in the mid-90’s, so those years were rough. And running my own business. . . I guess I just always figured it would happen someday, and then one day I woke up and realized I’m kind of old. I don’t know how that happened. (He laughs.)

Anyway, I want to hear about you! Are you still singing? You had the most magnificent voice. I’m just so sorry I won’t see you at the reunion. I was really happy when I saw your name on that list of attendees. So, I don’t know, I thought maybe we could connect. . . . Maybe facetime or zoom or whatever. . . . I really hate looking at myself, but it would be so great to see your face. I guess I could have just emailed you, but I figured this video might. . . make more of an impression. I don’t know. Who knows if I’ll even send this. . . .

Okay, Abby. I’m going to go now. I hope I send this. I mean, we’re all stuck in our houses now, so we might as well try to connect somehow, right? Okay. Well, I’m gonna go. I hope you are well. God, I hope you are healthy—I can’t believe I didn’t say that sooner—and I hope I hear from you.

Bye.

He stops recording. Sits for a moment or two. . . . Screen finally goes blank.

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Scene 2 Abby is at her computer, initiating a zoom call (ideally, we will just see Abby in frame). She has great style—bright colors, cool jewelry, aging gracefully and still radiant in every way. She is smiling expectantly, eagerly waiting for Dan to join the call. The zoom “doorbell” chimes and Dan appears on screen. His outfit is slightly different and definitely looks like he’s making more of an effort.

ABBY Ahhhh! Hello! Oh my god, it’s you!

DAN Wow. Hi. You look incredible.

ABBY Stop. I’m a mess. I mean, thank you. Thank you. I’m working on accepting compliments. I can’t believe it’s you!?!

DAN It’s me.

ABBY Thank you so much for that video. I was so surprised when I received it. And so happy! I’ve thought of you so often over the years too. Pause as they both just smile and take each other in. Wow. We’re old! Ha! I’m sorry. I mean, you look great.

DAN (Quickly interjected/overlapping.) No, I don’t. You do.

ABBY We both look great. And hey, we’re not sick, right? I mean. . . can you believe this?

DAN I can’t.

ABBY It’s like, we spent our childhoods preparing for a nuclear war, and then our adulthoods worrying about, I don’t know, a terrorist attack. . . . But I don’t even have an imaginary frame of reference for this. You probably do—one of your terrible horror movies must have dealt with this kind of a situation.

DAN (Smiling, not minding the teasing.) I’m glad you remember those. . .

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ABBY Are you kidding me? How could I forget? You know what I always think of when I think of you? Photography class.

DAN Ah, Mr. Derwin.

ABBY Do you think they even teach photography in high school anymore? Probably not. The smell of the chemicals. . . that cool red light. . . watching the image slowly reveal itself. . . a lost art form. That’s sad.

DAN Another reason to curse the cell phone!

They share a laugh.

ABBY Remember the Wintergreen Lifesavers?

DAN What?

ABBY You don’t remember the Lifesavers in the dark room?

DAN I. . . I don’t think so.

ABBY Oh man, I was so proud of my powers of flirtation. Somehow I found out that if you bit into a Wintergreen Lifesaver in the pitch black, sparks would fly out of your mouth. So I cornered you in the dark room one day, and I pulled you really close to me, and I bit down really hard into a Lifesaver so you could see my sparks.

She laughs at herself and the memory.

DAN Wow. I can’t believe I don’t remember that. . .

ABBY I thought I was so sexy. Ha.

Pause. Again, they share warm looks. . .

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DAN It’s so good to see your face.

ABBY You too.

DAN I’ve missed you.

Abby is about to speak when a man’s voice interjects from off-screen.

MATTHEW (off-screen) Honey?

ABBY (Abby turns to the side to address Matthew.) Honey, I’m just—

MATTHEW Entering the frame.

Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were on a call.

ABBY It’s okay. Come say hi to my old friend Dan.

MATTHEW Hey, Dan. Nice to meet you. Sorry to interrupt. William is freaking out over his math homework. I didn’t know you were in a meeting.

ABBY It’s okay. I can come in a minute.

MATTHEW Thanks. Sorry, he’s just totally wigging out. I need backup here.

ABBY Uh huh.

MATTHEW (As he exits frame and the room, from off-camera he shouts) Bye, Dan.

ABBY I’m sorry. That was my husband, Matthew. This homeschooling this is. . . a lot. We have two teenage boys—

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DAN Of course, I get it. I mean, I don’t. . . well, I can imagine.

Sounds of boys screaming off screen.

ABBY I should probably go help him.

DAN Sure. Totally.

ABBY Somehow I got designated the math expert. Which is scary.

Dan and Abby share a laugh which lingers. Ultimately, they are interrupted by the off-camera sound of a teenage boy screaming “MOM!!!”

ABBY Ugh. Okay. Well. . . it was really great to see your face, Dan.

DAN You too, Abby.

They take each other in, tenderly. Sounds of the boys arguing begin again.

MATTHEW (off-screen, insistent) Hon, I really need you out here!

ABBY Sorry. I guess I have to go.

DAN Of course.

Pause.

Take care of yourself, Abby.

ABBY You too, Dan. Be safe.

She leaves the meeting. Dan stays on. A lost look in his eye. Maybe his shoulders fall imperceptibly. A breath. The moment lingers. He ends the call.

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Scene 3 Abby logs on to the computer. Lighting indicates it’s the middle of night.

ABBY Hey, Dan. It’s me. It’s. . . really late. I’m trying to keep it together for my kids, but this virus has given me a serious case of insomnia. I’m sorry our chat ended so abruptly. It was really great to see you. It’s a small silver lining of all of this— reconnecting with people from the past. I guess it takes a pandemic to finally realize life is short.

You asked if I still sing. I wish I could say I do it more. I just. . .

Long pause as she thinks of all the justifications she could say, but decides against.

I’m rusty. And god forbid I wake anyone in this sleeping house. . . . But—this is for you, Dan.

She sings a devastatingly beautiful song, a capella. The actor should sing a tender song she genuinely loves.

END OF PLAY

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I’M NOT COMING HOME

Brian Otaño

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I’m Not Coming Home was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Shianne Dingeman.

Cast: TERRY……………………………………………………………………………………………………………Dillon Redd

When this nightmare began, I was living with a roommate who wasn’t inclined to practice social distancing or any other precautions. Did he think he was immune? I couldn’t tell you. When it became abundantly clear that he wasn’t going to change, I moved. That’s where I started, thinking of all the people who are saddled with co- habitants, partners, or other extenuating-circumstance-people who continually put them at risk. I started there. I took my first step into this piece with a song lyric:

‘Member when I was so sick and you didn’t believe me?

That’s a line from “Regret,” my favorite track on Fiona Apple’s The Idler Wheel. The whole song could melt your fucking face off, but that particular line paints such a distinct picture of both a shitty partner and a shitty relationship dynamic. I love it so much, I stole it for this monologue—which ultimately wound up being about a young person learning the steep price that comes of handing over your agency. It’s also an acknowledgment of all the people who have been forced to shelter-in-place while in necrotic relationships with dysfunctional, potentially abusive partners. And that’s that on that. -Brian Otaño

Brian Otaño (he/him/his) is an LA-based playwright and TV writer. Plays: The Dust, Dolores Slayborne, Tara, Zero Feet Away, and The Dooley Street Trilogy. TV: Cruel Summer (Freeform/Hulu, airing in 2021). Alumna of: Center Theatre Group LA Writers Workshop, Geffen Playhouse Writers’ Room, Ars Nova Playgroup. Recipient of the New Dramatists Van Lier Fellowship and the NYTW 2050 Fellowship, as well as a Launch Commission from Atlantic Theater Company. Education: BFA, Dramatic Writing (SUNY Purchase).

Representation: WME and Grandview Management LLC.

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I'M NOT COMING HOME

By Brian Otaño

Character: TERRY

Terry can be played by a performer of any gender or ethnicity. The character is in a gay relationship with Stevie, whose gender should match Terry's.

Terry is in their early 20s, with many of their biggest mistakes and successes (all lessons) still ahead of them. They're from one of those small towns in Pennsylvania that's close to Atlantic City and Philadelphia, but far enough for its young citizens to be somewhat sheltered. Terry has been living in New York City.

Terry doesn't walk away from anything without feeling an immense sense of guilt, as if every move they make might be construed as a failure to meet an obligation. That's Terry's big problem at the moment, and they are reckoning with the fact that their nature as a Type-B person is part of what got them into this mess in the first place.

Terry is a Covid-19 patient who has been in a relationship with Stevie for a little over a year. Stevie is older, powerful, moneyed, charismatic. In a relationship, they don't really allow a partner to have much breathing room or much of a say. Terry has been living in "The Stevie Show" for a little over a year. Terry's been lost in this relationship pretty much the entire time it's been happening.

At lights up, Terry is sitting in a hospital bed. They've had about four or five days on their own to take stock—and the situation is pretty dire. They're going to survive—in fact, they're being discharged in a day or so. However, the undeniable truth is that they can't stay in New York. Their job is vaporized and their landlord has let them out of their lease--a shitty move, but also a mercy, given how badly legislation in Albany has fallen short. Terry has two choices--stay and get lost in "The Stevie Show" again or go back home to their family, hole up in the garage for a week until it’s safe to be around people and quietly slip back to the life they had before college, while the world rages.

At lights up, Terry has made a decision.

In darkness— TERRY Hi. . . Umm, is this. . .

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Terry adjusts the camera until they're in full view. They're in bed, wearing latex gloves and a hospital gown. They take a moment to self-consciously primp. They give up, they look like shit, no amount of fussing is going to fix it. An unseen nurse stands at the foot of the bed for moral support.

That's as good as it's going to get, I suppose. Umm. Hi, Stevie. One of the nurses here let me borrow his iPad for a couple of minutes. I would have called, but the wire on my phone charger is frayed—it’s broken, I think. . . Not that I've needed my phone in here.

Terry thinks. Before they can finish processing the thought, they cough into their elbow. They take a deep breath and exhale slowly. At the end of the exhale, another tiny sputtering cough.

They tell me I'm out of the woods, believe it or not. I'm one of the lucky ones. Every person who has been in the bed to my left and the bed to my right has died. Three people since I was admitted. The nurses told me that either my bed is lucky or I'm an Angel of Death. Both could be true, I guess it depends on your outlook. I. . .

Terry gets lost in the thought of all those dead people. They cringe and shake that thought away.

I've had some time to think. I've tried my best to. . . keep my head screwed on straight, which is nearly impossible when you've got a fever. For a couple of days there, my head was just a steady stream of non-stop fever nightmares, but. . .

Terry looks to his left, at the patient in the bed next to them. He looks at the nurse.

The person who died in the bed to my left was my age.

Terry takes a deep breath, finding the courage to say the following—speaking their mind is like moving a boulder.

Stevie, I told you that I had a bad feeling about all this. I know your boss gives you grief if you're not out partying as hard as everyone else in the firm, but. . . I told you that we should have taken the social distancing seriously. We didn't need to go to the Gold Rush for that happy hour, we didn't need to go to that dinner party. . . I thought it over and I told myself, "Be fair, Terry, be reasonable. You're an adult. You could've stayed home. You didn't have to go along. You had a say." But. . . That's not really the dynamic we're working with, is it? I don't really get much of a say in anything. Ever. You make all the money, so you make all the decisions, because you're pushier. And you think you have better taste because you grew up in the city, like that's some kind of accomplishment, like you had anything to do with the fact that your mother birthed you in New York City and never left. . .

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Terry looks to the nurse. A moment. They nod and continue—back on track.

Stevie, you don't listen to me. Ever. And this time, it nearly cost me my life.

Terry begins to cough again, that one hurt. They swallow. They stare into the camera lens. Pissed.

I told you that I was sick and you didn't believe me.

Long pause.

You do that a lot. I tell you how I feel and you tell me I'm wrong, as if the legitimacy of my feelings is something that's up for dispute. . .

Terry looks to the nurse and nods.

I'm being discharged tomorrow. I called my landlord—she’s letting me out of my lease without a penalty. . .

Oops. A lie. Terry thinks for a moment, their eyes darting, then—-

Yeah, my phone charger isn’t. . . broken. It's just that my screen is cracked, and I wanted to send you a video because I didn't want this to be a phone call. This isn't a conversation. I want you to look at my face and see that I mean every word of this, and I don't want to give you a chance to talk me out of it or tell me what I'm feeling is incorrect, somehow. I do not love you anymore. I am leaving. I called my landlord, she's letting me out of my lease without penalty.

Long pause, then—

I called my uncle, he drove up from Philly with my cousins, they've been packing up my apartment while I've been in here. They're bringing me home with them. I'm going to stay in their garage for a week until it's safe for me to be around other people. . . I'm not coming back here. I need to be alone for a while. . . You can toss whatever I've left at your place, if you don't want it. You can keep Spartacus. He lives at your place, so. . . He's basically yours. Please remember to buy the clay-based cat litter, the other stuff is bad for him. . . Fuck. Terry's gonna miss that cat. That was probably the hardest part. They pull it together.

Plainly

Don't try to track me down or convince me to stay. My mind is made up.

Terry stares into the camera, shakes their head and shrugs.

You should've believed me.

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Terry looks at the nurse and nods.

Cut to black.

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SOUTH LAKE TAHOE

Brian Otaño

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South Lake Tahoe, California was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Shianne Dingeman.

Cast: HARRIET………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Sara Neal GLENN…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Matte Kranz JACKIE……………………………………………………………………………………………………………Julie Caudill MIKE……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Vishay Singh

I’ve been a fan of horror stories since before I could read or form complete sentences. True story: the image of JoBeth Williams swimming in a muddy pool of skeletons during the climax of Poltergeist is my first TV memory. As I’ve grown older, I’ve found that the horrors visited upon us by ghosts and slashers don’t hold a candle to the real-life nightmares that have unfolded in the world during my lifetime. Terrorist attacks, natural disasters, elections, this pandemic—one of the things they have in common is that they make me feel utterly powerless. In this play, I explore that powerlessness and tip my hat to the brave folks who continue to face down danger in order to help the afflicted. -Brian Otaño

Representation: WME and Grandview Management LLC

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SOUTH LAKE TAHOE, CALIFORNIA

By Brian Otaño

CHARACTERS: All characters are in their late teens-early 20s. Their bond: they're all classmates at UCSB.

HARRIET: The keeper of the Zoom meeting. She's the mama of every friend group she's ever had and that's how she likes it. Her shit's together, she's brave. Camping, escape rooms, the apocalypse—you want her around for all these moments. Her heroes: Ellen Ripley and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. She's currently residing in a small town east of Carson City, Nevada.

GLENN: A pushy, slightly toxic cis-het guy, from a conservative family. They all secretly vote Republican ("we're fiscal conservatives,” they'd say). He can recount the fact that one of his sisters died, but won't say how, won't register any emotion and would rather pretend that she never existed. Think the family from Ordinary People, without the help of Judd Hirsch. He doesn't have any heroes. Grew up with Harriet in Carson City.

JACKIE: A hyperactive stoner from Queens, New York. She doesn't have an accent but can talk a blue streak (with her hands) and lots of neck. She has swag for days. She's not gay but she's an ally. She's the gal drag queens always save a seat for at the bar shows because she's cool like that, she always carries cash, and knows how to tourniquet a knife wound. Her heroes: Ginger McKenna from Casino (as played brilliantly by Sharon Stone) and Shangela Laquifa Wadley (drag superstar and three- time contestant on RuPaul's Drag Race). After taking care of a very intoxicated Harriet at an unbearable theater nerd party, Jackie and Harriet have been inseparable.

MIKE: A wealthy, somewhat sheltered kid from Northern California. He doesn't deal well with pressure and isn't very good at being uncomfortable. He's the youngest in the group, he likes scary movies but hates being in the woods, which makes his current predicament all the more taxing—at present, he is quarantined in South Lake Tahoe, California at his family's lake house. He's totally one of those kids who ignored the social distancing measures because he assumed that even if he did catch Covid, he'd be okay because he's young. Of course, he got sick. His heroes: Batman and Mark Zuckerberg. Seriously.

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Harriet logs into a Zoom meeting. While she waits, she messes around with background images. Her room is charming, fastidiously decorated. Mike arrives, his video screen pops up next to Harriet's. He's wearing earbuds.

HARRIET Hey Mikey!

MIKE Hi.

HARRIET How are you feeling?

MIKE I'm okay. What are you up to?

Glenn logs in, his video screen appearing next to hers.

GLENN Hey.

HARRIET (To Mike) Oh, you know, chillin'. Recovering after a particularly daunting afternoon of bleaching all the high touch surfaces in my apartment and sitting on my couch. (to Glenn) Hey, Glenn. I thought you had a family game night. What happened?

GLENN We attempted a game of charades, but the whole thing got weird. My brother had a meltdown.

HARRIET What do you mean?

GLENN He started crying and he couldn't stop.

HARRIET Really? What happened?

Jackie arrives, her video screen popping up in the grid.

GLENN My sister held up her cat to the camera and he lost it. (to Jackie) Hi, Jackie.

JACKIE What's happening, you junkie whores? Glenn, who lost it?

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GLENN My brother.

HARRIET Because of a cat?

GLENN Yeah.

JACKIE . . . Put a pin in that. Mike! How's it hangin', Rapunzel? Are you feeling any better?

MIKE (Pissed off) Yeah, I'm feeling fucking fine.

A confused pause.

JACKIE Okay. Dial back the spice, baby, I'm just asking.

MIKE Sorry.

HARRIET What's the matter?

MIKE My parents won't let me come home.

JACKIE But it's been two weeks.

GLENN Are you still sick?

MIKE No, but they don't want to chance it, so they just dropped another assload of groceries on the front deck and told me I have to wait another week.

JACKIE Did you do the pasta carbonara recipe I sent you? From the Bon Appetit video?

MIKE Yeah, it came out okay.

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GLENN Why won't they let you come home?

HARRIET His grandmother.

MIKE Yes, my fucking grandmother is at home with them. She's got COPD, so they're being super paranoid.

HARRIET I'm sorry, Mike.

MIKE When all this started, they said we'd only be cooped up for a couple of weeks--.

JACKIE Yeah, but that was bullshit. We all knew that was bullshit—.

HARRIET (Delicately) I mean. . . Listen. . . I get that you're feeling stir crazy, but. . . You're in a bougie solar-powered smarthouse with a firepit and a jacuzzi.

JACKIE Yeah, that house would make Elon Musk cream his panties—.

HARRIET It sucks that you got a visit from Ms. 'Rona, but as far as quarantining goes, you could do a lot worse.

MIKE I know. I'm just over being up here by myself.

HARRIET Do you want me to come hang out on your front lawn? If I do 90, I can get there in 20 minutes or so, I could—.

MIKE No, I'll be fine, I just. . . I don't like it up here. Forget it, though. It be what it be.

HARRIET Okay. . . So, wait, Glenn, back to your brother, he had a breakdown because he saw your sister's cat?

JACKIE I'm lost, what—?

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GLENN We tried to have a Zoom game night, and my brother just started sobbing. I think the isolation's finally broken him.

HARRIET I don't blame him. Colorado is remote as fuck under the best of circumstances. But the cat. . .? I don't get it.

JACKIE That makes sense, people are wired differently. Someone sent me a video of a drag queen performing at this bar back home and that just sent me into a spiral.

HARRIET Was her makeup bad?

JACKIE No, I just miss drag queens, I miss going out and getting turnt, you know? I don't know. So, what did you do, Glenn?

GLENN We all just slowly backed away from our computers and logged out one by one.

JACKIE (Shaking her head) You people.

GLENN What does that mean?

JACKIE Your family's cold as hell, y'all bleed mercury, I'm convinced. When I hugged your mom at Freshman Orientation—I swear, that hug gave me frostbite.

GLENN Listen, I don’t—.

MIKE Guys, wait—.

Mike pulls out one of his earbuds and listens. Harriet, Glenn and Jackie watch, confused. After a moment, Mike directs his attention back to his laptop.

MIKE (Into his microphone) Sorry, I thought I heard something. What are we watching tonight?

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GLENN I vote Invisible Man.

JACKIE Casino!

GLENN Casino is 87 goddamn hours long—.

JACKIE Well, what the fuck else do you have going on tonight? You got plans? You have somewhere to be, motherfucker?

HARRIET I could totally watch Invisible Man, is it streaming—?

GLENN (To Jackie) Are you high?

HARRIET No.

JACKIE Of course I'm high, what do you think this is?

Mike turns around in his seat, holding a finger up to the camera. He listens.

HARRIET What's wrong?

MIKE I'll be right back.

Mike puts his laptop down, the camera angled at his bedroom door. He stands at the open doorway and listens. Everyone watches.

HARRIET What the hell. . .?

Mike rushes back into his room, turns off the lights and closes the door. He grabs his laptop and steps into his closet. He puts his headphones back on. His face is illuminated by the screen's glow.

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HARRIET Mike, what the fuck, dude?

MIKE (Whispering) Someone's in my house.

JACKIE What?

MIKE (Whispering) Somebody's in the living room, I just saw them walk past the stairs. There are two of them.

HARRIET Well, who was it?

MIKE (Through gritted teeth) I don't fucking know.

GLENN What if it's your family? They've been stopping in from time to time, right?

JACKIE No one's gone in, though, since he's been sick.

A pause. Mike listens. Everyone else waits, scared.

HARRIET Call the cops. Mike, call the cops.

MIKE I can't.

HARRIET What do you mean, you can't?

MIKE My phone is charging downstairs in the kitchen. Where is—? Wait. . . (thinking) Fuck.

HARRIET What?

MIKE We have guns. But they're downstairs.

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GLENN Well, what use is a gun if it's not within reach?

JACKIE Motherfucker, do you think he's gonna have a glock in every room? What is wrong with you? Harriet, mute him.

Harriet pulls out her phone.

HARRIET I'll call the cops. Mike, what's your address?

GLENN Wait, stop. Mike, is this a joke?

Mike presses a hand to his mouth. He's terrified.

MIKE (A whisper) Did you hear that? (a beat, then—) 3238 Panorama Drive. 3238 Panorama Drive. South Lake Tahoe, Cali—.

HARRIET Okay, hang tight. Be quiet. Harriet dials 911 and puts her phone to her ear. Game face on. Hello, can you connect me with the police department in South Lake Tahoe, California? I'm not there, I'm calling for someone who's there who can’t—. Okay. (into the camera) They're transferring me.

Ten seconds. Feels like thirty. Mike's breathing speeds up. Panic starts to rise in his face as he fights off a coughing fit. He coughs into a sweater.

JACKIE Oh my God. Mike, don’t—.

HARRIET (Into phone) Hi, I'm calling to report an intruder. . . No, I'm calling on behalf of my friend, who is there in South Lake Tahoe, but can't get to his phone. . . No, he's not injured. He's hiding in his room. He doesn't have his phone on him. He's alone up there and two people have just broken into in his house. I don't know if they're armed. 3238 Panorama Drive, South Lake Ta—. Yes, that's it. Michael Rivera. Yeah. Please. My name is Harriet Schmidt. Yeah. . . Thank you. Wait, how long 'til you’re there? (appalled) How long? Are you out of your—? (casting a look at the camera and reining it in) Yeah, no, okay. Sure. Just. . . Get the fuck over there now. No, I don't need to stay on the line. . . Yes, you can call me back at this number. Thank you.

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Harriet ends the call. She casts a shifty glance at the camera and puts on her best face.

MIKE (Whispering) What did they say? How long will it be?

HARRIET (Remaining calm) They'll be there soon.

MIKE How long?

HARRIET . . . Twenty minutes.

JACKIE Fuck.

HARRIET They're sending someone over now.

GLENN Mike, listen, you know what you do? Walk downstairs and just start coughing on them. Tell those motherfucker you've got the plague. If that doesn't scare 'em off—.

JACKIE Glenn, bitches are out there breaking into houses on some Home Alone-type shit, I don't think they're worried about Covid-fucking-19. Harriet, mute him. Fuck.

Mike holds a finger to his lips. Everyone falls silent.

MIKE (Whispering) They're in the hallway.

JACKIE They're upstairs?

Mike nods.

JACKIE Did you lock your door?

MIKE (Shaking his head “no") It doesn't have a lock.

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HARRIET Okay, well, we'll just wait with you—.

Jackie, Harriet and Glenn sit. They're helpless. Mike's closet door swings open. He looks up. His camera abruptly winks out.

JACKIE Mike?!

GLENN Is this a prank? This is a prank. And it's not fucking funny.

JACKIE He had Harriet call the cops. . .

HARRIET I'm going over there.

JACKIE What?

GLENN What are you going to do?

HARRIET Listen, he'll want someone with him after the cops get there.

GLENN What if it's too late? What if you get there and he’s. . . Already. . . I don't know.

Harriet and Jackie let that thought sink in.

HARRIET Well, then. . . I'll just. . . (resolute) Look, I'm going.

JACKIE You really should wait for the cops, they'll be there in 20 minutes.

HARRIET 45 minutes—.

GLENN You said 20.

HARRIET They said 45, but I lied because I didn't want him to panic!

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GLENN Goddamn it.

HARRIET Someone get a hold of his mother.

JACKIE I can find her on Facebook. Glenn, go with her. You can follow her in your car.

That's clearly the last thing in the world Glenn wants to do.

HARRIET You don't have to—.

GLENN (Coming around) My place is closer to the freeway. I'll get a head start. We'll meet there, okay.

HARRIET Yeah, I'll call you when I'm on the road.

JACKIE I'll track down his mom.

HARRIET Okay. Umm. . . See you soon, I guess.

Glenn and Jackie nod. Harriet claps her laptop shut.

The meeting ends.

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BUT HERE I AM

Lynn Rosen

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But Here I Am was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Sara Rademacher.

Cast: CHRIS…………………………………………………………………………………………………Alexandra Singleton TAYLOR…………………………………………………………………………………………..Navnoor Singh Kahlon

But Here I Am was written in the midst of the pandemic as I was longing for connection with all the people I could no longer see—even the people I had trouble getting close to. Please note: The scene should be energetic, funny, and crisp—but a shared grief for their late mom, their love for each other, and a need to connect is bubbling beneath the surface. But don’t sit in the sadness about the mom or about the pandemic that’s occurring. The scene won’t work if the momentum sags. Instead, think about how the siblings are striving to come to an understanding. Although Chris and Tyler are like oil and water, they never give up on trying to get along. Slashes (/) are interruptions. This play can be done for camera or for a live audience. -Lynn Rosen

Lynn Rosen is a playwright and TV writer. Her plays have appeared in theatres across the country. She currently has three pilots in development and is co-creator of the award-winning comedic webseries Darwin. Lynn is a resident playwright at New Dramatists and is currently under commission with Red Bull Theatre and TheatreWorks Silicon Valley. https://newdramatists.org/lynn-rosen

Contact: Katie Gamelli, Abrams Artists Agency, [email protected]

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BUT HERE I AM

By Lynn Rosen

It's all so crazy, right? So so crazy.

BUT HERE I AM

Night. A Zoom chat between siblings, ideally two brothers, but can be sis and bro or sis and sis—feel free to change pronouns. There is love yet they can't seem to connect. Help always feels like criticism and love feels like judgement. CHRIS is more emotional, a cosmetician at Sephora, bright PJs, a fast talker. TAYLOR is stoic, impatient, a spy novelist, plaid PJs. Chris does his/her/their own makeup as they talk but they are fully present. Taylor is futzing with something as they/he/she sits therevery distracted. Slashes = interruptions.

Taylor starts flipping through a book.

CHRIS

The people across from me never turn their lights off. So annoying.

TAYLOR (Distracted) Wow. Weird. Annoying.

CHRIS

Maybe they're scared of the dark. Evening feels the most normal to me. I watch something alone, I eat alone, normal, you know? Day and nighttime are the freaky time when—Hello? Taylor!

TAYLOR What? I'm/ listening.

CHRIS What are you looking at?/ Stop that.

TAYLOR I'm listening! I'm here. I accepted your Zoom invitation, it's 2 a.m., but here I am.

CHRIS Are you mad I woke you up?

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TAYLOR Nope.

CHRIS You seem mad.

TAYLOR I said nope.

CHRIS Now you seem madder.

TAYLOR Do you want me to be mad? I can do that for you/ if you want me to.

CHRIS No, I do not want/ that obvi.

TAYLOR Cuz you're pushing me there, Chris. You looove doing that. Ever since we were kids.

CHRIS I don't think so.

TAYLOR Look-

CHRIS "Look." Always a good way to start/ a sentence.

TAYLOR Look, I can have a different feeling than you, that doesn't mean it's any less valid.

CHRIS Oh, you have feelings? I mean I see them in your books, but in real life—

TAYLOR Are we done? Cuz now it's 2:04 a.m. and I have a book due to an editor in the morning.

CHRIS Lucky you.

TAYLOR Yes.

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CHRIS Lucky lucky you, that you can still work and make money during all this CRAZY-ASS CRAZINESS!

TAYLOR Quiet! Jesus! Amber is sleeping. You can work too, you know.

CHRIS How so, Taylor? I do people's makeup. I need humans. I need cheeks and lips and eyelids. I need people asking me to make them look beautiful, and I do it very well P.S.

TAYLOR I don't doubt/ that.

CHRIS I need humanity to survive. I'm not like you, writing Justin Penumbra crime bomb spy thrillers all day alone in my attic. I hate being alone.

TAYLOR I think my Julian Penumbra series is more literary than that but/ whatever.

CHRIS I am a dream maker! And I don't have that anymore.

TAYLOR You could.

CHRIS Oh, I could? How's that exactly?

TAYLOR You could come up with a creative way to ply your trade, Chris—

CHRIS It's not a “trade," I've told you—

TAYLOR Your “calling,” fine. Offer tutorials on YouTube. That's a plan! Call clients and offer private consults via Zoom. That's a plan! You could start a business plan for the salon you've always dreamed of but never do anything/ about.

CHRIS Here we go! I'm such a disappointment.

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TAYLOR I'm just trying to sharpen your/ focus.

CHRIS Thanks for reminding me of my many shortcomings in the midst of a pandemic./ Nice!

TAYLOR I'm not.

CHRIS Pandemic-shaming! Nice!

TAYLOR Chris!

CHRIS Are you going to bring up the lemonade stand again? Wanna dig up that old gem?

TAYLOR No. . . . Although that is an example of a plan of yours that never came to fruition.

CHRIS I had the apron and the cups and then I lost steam. Mom made me do math over that whole summer!

TAYLOR I'm just trying to encourage you, Chris. Like mom would.

CHRIS Like mom would? Mom made me feel like I could jetpack to the moon. You make me feel like a, like a gross oily french fry or something. I'm not ready to plan my brand, OK Taylor? I'm not like you. I can't be productive. I just want to talk!

TAYLOR Yes, and it's 2:07 a.m. in the morning but here I am!

CHRIS Fine! . . . (Genuinely) Sorry it's so late.

TAYLOR Thank you. I appreciate that. . . . It’s more like it's so early since it's 2:07 a.m. but/ thanks.

CHRIS You always gotta make me pay, don't you?

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TAYLOR I don't make you pay, whatever/ that means.

CHRIS So sue me for wanting to hear my brother's voice in the middle of a nightmare!

TAYLOR OK, I'll sue you then send you the bill for my legal fees since I make you pay.

Pause. Chris starts to cry a little.

CHRIS You know what? You are not funny. This is not funny times, Taylor.

TAYLOR I know! If it were any more tragic I'd have to open a fucking comedy club! It's awful! (Beat) Sorry OK? So are we done here?

CHRIS Why? Got a hot pandemic date? Got a hot book to get to the airports lickety split?

TAYLOR Hey! Getting a book sold in airports is a big effin' deal, Chris.

CHRIS I thought you wanted to write meaningful novels. Oh, maybe you aren't applying yourself, Taylor. Hmm? Maybe you're being all lemonade stand!

TAYLOR I do want to write those. I will write those but hey, mom died and I just—Look, I can pay my bills, I can pay for gifts. In fact, Julian Penumbra In Paradise paid for your trip to see mom last summer when she was sick/ so.

CHRIS And I said thank you like one thousand times. Thank you. One thousand and one.

TAYLOR No you never said thank you. "Thank you" is not your "thing."

CHRIS Oh my god,/ I did too.

TAYLOR You said, "So cool of you!" And "Mr. Moneybags here,” but "Thank you,” I never heard.

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CHRIS (Losing it) THANK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! TAYLOR

TAYLOR Shhhhhh! Jesus.

CHRIS I just wanted to talk to you! You're lucky to have someone with you. I guess I'll just go hug my socks!

TAYLOR See? You and luck.

CHRIS What?

TAYLOR Happiness has nothing to do with luck. It has to do with hard work and sticking to a/ plan.

CHRIS Lemonade stand!

TAYLOR Yes! LEMONADE STAND!

CHRIS I am sorry I flaked out on the lemonade stand and you couldn't afford to buy that license plate for your bike when you were 12!

TAYLOR Finally! Thank you! That was a big deal to me!

CHRIS Oh my god. Mom told me to be patient with you but—

TAYLOR Mom told me to be patient with you! I'm just trying to help you be a better person, Chris. It's up to me now.

CHRIS Just listen to me, Taylor. Be here for me. Don't solve me!

TAYLOR I am trying!

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CHRIS See these books behind me? These are all your books. Justin Penumbra: Back in the USSR was my favorite. It was kinda weirdly hot. It embarrassed me a little.

TAYLOR You bought all my books?

CHRIS Of course! I mean, Mom sent them to me, but I read every one. We used to share a room, Taylor. We had good times being in that room together, just being near each other was enough, even if we didn't talk, and Mom was there on the other side of the wall, and we'd hear her snore but she'd swear she didn't snore—

TAYLOR Oh, she snored! Remember how she'd belly laugh at Letterman?

CHRIS Yes! And the springs would bounce.

TAYLOR Yes! They'd bounce like in time with her laugh.

CHRIS Yes! That's so true! I forgot that! I'm scared I guess. Especially at night. And basically you're it for me so I call you—

TAYLOR No, it's fine. It's good. I just. . . I don't say feelings, you know? I write feelings. Well, I try to and fail because, you're right, my bs are crap. I mean they're good for a flight to Orlando, but I'm different than you and mom. I'm like a robot who got switched at birth.

CHRIS No.

TAYLOR I can't fill mom's shoes. I don't even know what's up or down right now. I'm just working and doing my best, and I am here, OK? Here I am.

CHRIS OK.

TAYLOR OK.

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CHRIS Well. . . I’ll let you sleep. Say hi to Amber. Tell her I’m sending that nighttime serum.

TAYLOR OK thanks, have a good night. Wait. Chris.

CHRIS Yeah?

TAYLOR There's a chat function. See it? On the bottom?

CHRIS Yeah?

Using the chat function, Taylor writes to Chris. . . Maybe Chris reads it aloud or maybe folks just read it on the screen along with Chris. It says: "He was always afraid of what the world would do to his little brother, who is a tender soul. That fear became stoicism, so he's told. Now that it's only them he wants to say he loves him but he isn't sure how. It feels impossible, like describing a dream. But now that the world is upside down and everyone is falling, he thinks, maybe if he reaches out there will be a hand to hold onto."

Chris reads it, looks at Taylor.

TAYLOR It's no Justin Penumbra Tackles The Taliban but. . .

CHRIS You should write that story. I'd totally read that story.

TAYLOR (Pleased) Yeah?

End of play

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THAT FLOWER, THAT FLOWER

Lynn Rosen

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That Flower, That Flower was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Kate Bergstrom.

Cast: EDIE………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Lana Spring

This is adapted from my play Apple Cove produced by WP Theater in 2011. I revisited the character of Edie for “Alone, Together” for a few reasons. A. I regret not giving Edie a moment like this in “Apple Cove” when it was first produced. B. Edie’s need to break free is what we all wish we could do during Covid-19! C. Edie’s exuberant escape from a place of rigidity, fear, homogeneity, and tribalism is symbolic of my wish for America. Note to actor: Discover these thoughts as they occur. Edie didn’t plan this. It’s a last-second idea. She’s speaking off-the-cuff. No time to think or pause because Alan could wake up any second and convince her to stay. In other words, a snappy pace will help you find intention. Also, although Edie says she’s sad, and she is sad about many things, don’t play this sad. Think energy and exuberance! She’s freeing herself. Lastly, there is funny stuff in here, but Edie doesn't know it’s funny. This is all real and urgent to her. -Lynn Rosen

Contact: Katie Gamelli, Abrams Artists Agency, [email protected]

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THAT FLOWER, THAT FLOWER

By Lynn Rosen

Place: A gated community in Florida where there are rules for everything, from what flowers to grow, to what paint to use, to what clothes to wear. Time: Present day.

Edie records a "Dear John" video to her husband, Alan, 20s, into a security cam. (If that’s not doable, she can do it on Alan’s computer.) The flower she speaks of is awesome and powerful. It's her awakening. She's been betrayed by Alan but still has love for him. Her dainty dress contrasts with her wild hair, the dirt on her face, under her nails, on her hands. It's like she's gone through a metamorphosis. She is very close to the camera.

EDIE It was that flower, Alan. That flower that came from nowhere. From the ooze and silt. That ugly pretty thorny black brown gold and purple flower. I knew the rules of the Cove by heart—tulips only, hedges only so high, bushes only so bushy, English speakers only—so when that flower popped up in my garden, I dared not touch it. But everyday, Alan? I got a little bit closer. I caressed a leaf. I bled on a thorn. Yeah! That's where all the bandaids went! Ha! I inhaled its moldy mocha-soil scent, it's dirty scent, and it was succulent. I know the word succulent embarrasses you, Alan, I'm sorry, but it was succulent. It infected me, and it was like I grew thorns and curves and colors! Like I burst up from the manicured lawn! Like I became succulent! It's wise, this flower. It was here long before they butchered the trees and drained the swamps, before they killed the bees and birds and otters. Before the gates of this Cove were built to keep out the chaos, the stranglers, the strangers. (Aren't we taught to welcome strangers?) Before my mom ran after that kite and never came back. You saw the flower was wise, you told me to dig it up, and I did. But as you know, I replanted it where you wouldn't see, where my father wouldn't see, where the guards wouldn't see. As you know it grew and thrived and begat! It arose and arose and arose! It could not be restrained! It could not be tamed! It made me feel alive! But you didn't like that, did you, Alan? So you burned my flowers.

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I showed them to you because I loved you, I trusted you, I wanted you to feel what I feel, then you and Dad set fire to my flowers! You say you did it for my own good, they gave me “notions," they were "terrorist flowers,” here to tear us apart, how do you know what's good for me, Alan? We know nothing! It was you and me against the world, Alan, but I won't hide out with you anymore. No more infrared cams, no more blast-resistant doors, I mean if you think about it all we had was fear, you know? When you get up from your nap to quadruple check the locks, you'll get this message and I'll be gone. You'll be sad. I'm sad, too. You'll try to find me but you won't find me. You won't understand. I know it'll torture you, the not knowing. I don't want to torture you, you're a good man. So I've left you a gift. (She holds a tiny seed in her hand) The only seed left. I'm burying it, and it will bloom, and you'll try to stop it but you can't stop it. Let it grow, Alan. Smell its danger and its beauty, breathe it in, and then you will see.

She turns off the recording.

The end

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THE SHAKESPEARE SECTION

Lynn Rosen

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The Shakespeare Section was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Daniel Andres Blanco. It was designed by Kaede Kogo and Allison McSwain.

Cast: STUDENT…………………………………………………………………………………………………………Matte Kranz

The Shakespeare Section was inspired by, well, my life! Who hasn’t pined away in a library tussling internally about how to win over the AMAZING person you have a crush on? Who among us hasn’t tried and failed to seem cool? But it’s also inspired by my urgent need during the Covid-19 pandemic to play, to dream, to connect, and to remember love, joy, and new beginnings. -Lynn Rosen

Lynn Rosen is a playwright and TV writer. Her plays have appeared in theatres across the country. She currently has three pilots in development and is co-creator of award- winning comedic webseries Darwin. Lynn is a resident playwright at New Dramatists and is currently under commission with Red Bull Theatre and TheatreWorks Silicon Valley. https://newdramatists.org/lynn-rosen

Agent: Katie Gamelli, Abrams Artists Agency, [email protected]

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THE SHAKESPEARE SECTION

By Lynn Rosen

Place: A library. Time: The present

STUDENT is at a desk pretending to read, but really they’re gazing at the person they’re in love with. Although this is an internal monologue delivered to the camera (or live audience)—i.e. to Student’s own subconscious—they’re in a library and an outburst can be heard by the public, so they often tamp their passion down. But there are a few places where control gives way to passion, which then must be contained again. A swift pace is your friend. No need to rush, but this is stream of consciousness so, for the most part, let it flow. I suggest a few places where you speak directly to the camera/us but feel free to play with that.

STUDENT (Alternating between speaking to camera/us and speaking toward “her”) There she is. Her hair is down. I like it down. I like it up. She's smart. Pink suits her. Sweaters suit her. Light and clouds and rain and shine suit her. She's at the circulation desk, she has the cutest piece of paper in her hand. The librarian is pointing her my way! I'm by S for Shakespeare. Does she like Shakespeare? I can like Shakespeare! I'm gonna talk to her this time. No more wussing out!

(An Unseen Person says "Shh!" offscreen/offstage.)

STUDENT Sorry. (To self again, quietly but intensely) Here she comes. I'm gonna be all “Shakespeare." Play it cooleth. Oh! She passes and her scent doth blanket me softly like a—like a—like a sigh of relief! What is her scent? Roses? Beach? A garden by the sea? Is that her dream place? Am I with her in that garden by the sea? Of course not, freak! She doesn't know you exist. You hide behind your (doing air quotes) "Lessons In Nutrition" textbook while she doth touch the spines of Hamlet, and Macbeth, and that other really long one. Oh, that those spines were mine and I could but feel her sea- salt skin upon my back as we lie— Lay? Lie near a fire on the beach, sparks and sputters of our passion illuminating the inky night!

(Unseen Person says "Shh!" Student is annoyed by them this time.)

STUDENT Sorry. Gawd! (To camera/us again) She comes closer, past Tempest, past Troilus, she is upon you. Speak today so you may rejoice tomorrow!

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(Student makes some weird sound at his love interest that's not quite a hello. Fail.)

STUDENT (Beating himself up for this, to the camera/us) Weakling! Coward! Nutrition major! Just read of your riboflavin, nerd, and release this dream which is but an illusion, like the radiance of the stars. What know you of love, hackey sacker?! You are doomed to a life of solitude. Sorrow will tatter your soul like the sails of a ship in a tempest tossed. You will be a nut, a bolt, a cog in a wheel, unseen, spinning day after day yet moving nowhere, moving no one, until your body doth crack and only the icy hand of death doth caress your senseless brow. Unless, you speak now! Do it!

(He turns to her to speak and sees. . .)

STUDENT Oh no, she speakeths with that track guy who always wears a tank top. It's winter, dude! We get it! You're an athlete! Is this the visage of love you rejoice in, lady? (Back to cam/us) Is she this simple? This thin? What chance have I against this Adonis? (Looking at her) He touches her arm. . . . She recoils! (To cam/us) She cares not for him! Yes! She walks hither again, glancing at dusty spines. Oh to be "Henry The Sixth Part Whatever" right now! She looks my way! I will act! Act now!

(Student smiles shyly or waves to his love. Then Student looks at camera/us and we see they're very happy with what transpired.)

STUDENT (To camera/us) She waves to me! Tis good. Tis well. I am nourished! (Worry creeping in) Til it be ‘morrow.

End of play

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THE GREAT GREATS

Cheri Steinkellner

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The Great Greats was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Cheri Steinkellner. Cast: GRANDMA ELSIE……………………………………………………………………………………………….Jane Morris ANGEL…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Martin Wong ELLIOT………………………………………………………………………………………………………Angel Villalobos TAYLOR…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..Matte Kranz AVERY…………………………………………………………………………………………………….Valeryee Jimenez RILEY……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Mario Yanes CHARLIE………………………………………………………………………………………….Navnoor Singh Kahlon JORDAN……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Violet Hansen QUINN………………………………………………………………………………………………….Maison “Bub” Bray

Two weeks into Covid Quarantine 2020, I hadn’t written for two weeks. Like cousin Jordan, in the play, I was immersed in confusion--and completely blocked. Then I attended my younger brother’s Zoom birthday party and this play found me. The Great-Greats is a patchwork of near-verbatim conversations I witnessed through my screen in the early days of isolation. The only character I pulled from another time and place is my Grandma Elsie, who for the last many years of her life, only spoke the words, “No wonder, no way”--but through those few words, communicated the world. Every grandchild was her favorite, and she was all of ours. This play is for Grandma. -Cheri Steinkellner

Cheri Steinkellner (she/her) has earned four Emmys, two Golden Globes, a Writers Guild, People’s Choice, World Animation, and British Academy Award for writing/ producing TV’s Cheers and Disney’s Teacher’s Pet, as well as a Tony nomination for writing Sister Act the Musical with husband Bill. Mom of three writer/artists, Cheri teaches writing at UCSB and Stanford, and lectures worldwide.

Beth Blickers | APA (Agency for the Performing Arts) 3 Columbus Circle, 23rd Floor New York, NY (212) 621-3098

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THE GREAT GREATS

By Cheri Steinkellner

Characters:

ANGEL, 20s, an aide in Grandma’s assisted living facility, and her adopted grandchild

GRANDMA, 100 today. A stroke left her with few words, but Grandma makes herself clear

ELLIOTT, 22, a Trader Joe’s crewmate, now an essential service worker

TAYLOR, 23, a comic without a stage

AVERY, 25, A Silicon Valley entrepreneur and a stealth Republican

RILEY, 25, a law-school dropout/bartender/breathwork coach

CHARLIE, 24, a healthcare worker, down with the virus

JORDAN, 21, a student playwright, stuck in London with writer’s block

QUINN, 22, a Galactic Light Force worker

At rise: a blank screen.

ANGEL (O.S.) OK, Birthday girl. Let's see how you look for the great grandkids.

Close on: GRANDMA (100 today). She sees her face, too close.

GRANDMA No way.

ANGEL (O.S.) Yeah way.

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Grandma pushes the screen away.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way. No-wonder-no-way. No-wonder-oh-God-

ANGEL (O.S.) Don't worry, they'll be here. C’mon, fixed you a little birthday cocktail while we wait. Alcohol, sugar, lemon-wheel, yummmmm—

He hands her a glass. She drinks.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way-no-wonder-no-way—

ANGEL (O.S.) I’m sure this is the link. Lemme try it on my laptop—

2nd screen opens on ANGEL. Then:

Yeah, that’s it. Oh wait, yay—someone’s coming! Here we go—

3rd screen: ELLIOT, in a Trader Joe's Crew Hawaiian shirt, holding a TJ's cake with a flaming taper, singing:

ELLIOT HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO US HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO US HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRANDMA ELSIE AND ELLIOT—

Zoom ding. A new voice, singing fancy.

TAYLOR HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOU!

4th screen: Taylor, in front of a Zoom background of Ellen's Oscar night group selfie.

TAYLOR Hey Grandma, just me and the squad here to say HAPPY BIRTHD—

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way—

ELLIOT Taylor? Tay? You froze up, cuz. Hang up and call back—

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TAYLOR Duh, Elliot. I was joking, dumbass.

ELLIOT Earmuffs, Grandma. Please excuse my cousin, uhh—?

ANGEL Angel. I work with your grandmother. I mean, if you could call it work. It’s sorta more like she’s my grandma, right, Elsie?

Elsie blows a kiss. Angel catches it.

ELLIOT

Except she’s not.

TAYLOR

Yeah, you have your own.

ANGEL

Actually I don't. All mine died when I was little. So yeah, she kinda is.

ELLIOT

Except she's not.

TAYLOR

Back down, cuz. We know who she loves best. (grins, an animated sparkle bounces off his teeth) Hey, Grandma, look what I gotchu—

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way!

Taylor changes background to: a mountain of toilet paper rolls.

ELLIOT Not funny, Tay. Real people are still hoarding bad. Yesterday at work there was a literal fist-fight over the last pack of two-ply.

TAYLOR You still slumming at Trader Jokes?

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ELLIOT As opposed to living off my mom and dad? Um, yeah. And also, in case you missed it: I'm an essential worker, a-hole. Like a nurse or a firefighter. People thank me for my service.

TAYLOR Grandma, Elliot called me a-hole!

ELLIOT He called me dumbass!

TAYLOR Hey, control your rage issues, huh? I'm here for the woman I love.

New background: a vintage photo of a younger Elsie as a new voice is heard.

AVERY Zoom is such bullshit, you guys. (Box 5 opens) HearNow is such a better app.

ELLIOT Why, because you built it?

AVERY My team did, yeah.

TAYLOR Whooooo, Avery has a team.

AVERY Correction: Teams. Also: My teams have teams. Also: They're all working right now. Remotely. From home. On HearNow. To which I sent you all a link for a free month's trial, so why the hell are we still on Zoom?

Box 6 opens. RILEY enters.

RILEY Because no one trusts you with their PayPal?

AVERY (Yells, pounds wall) Shut your damn door, Riley, I'm getting feedback!

RILEY (Hollers back) You shut your door!

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AVERY We don't have sound issues on my app. I built in filters—

TAYLOR You mean your team did—

ELLIOT You mean her team's team did—

RILEY Shut up you guys, it's Grandma time. (raises a glass of wine) Happy b-day, gorgeous! Love you!

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way!

ELLIOT Oh? Are we day-drinking now, Riley?

AVERY Unrelentingly

RIlEY Are we the Party Mom now, Elliot? Grandma, guess what? I'm training online to be a breath-work coach.

AVERY AKA, quit law school and is working as a bartender.

RILEY Uh, so was AOC like two years ago. Whuttt, bitch?

Zoom ding: CHARLIE enters, in bed, sideways, buried under the covers.

ALL Charlie/Char-Char/Ohmygosh/Are you OK? Do you have it?

Charlie shrugs, coughs out of control.

TAYLOR

(To Angel) Our cousin Charlie’s like genuine medical, Angel. Graduated early to be on the frontline. That’s a service, Elliot.

CHARLIE

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(Through the coughs) Elliot’s out there doing the real work, Tay. Without Ell, we don’t eat.

ELLIOT You’re my favorite cousin, Charl.

RILEY Charlie’s everyone’s favorite cousin, Elliot. You’re not special.

CHARLIE Ell’s special, Ri. So are you.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way—

CHARLIE (Between coughs) Yeah way, Grandma.

ANGEL Hey, I do that, too.

AVERY We all do.

RILEY Who’s that?

AVERY No idea.

ELLIOT Grandma’s surrogate great-grandchild, apparently.

TAYLOR Don’t be bitter at the help, cuz. (to Grandma) Angel gets paid, Grandma. We’re here for love.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way!

ALL Yeah, wy.

TAYLOR See, Angel? It’s our Grandma Elsie’s love-language since I was, like what, 2?

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ELLIOT I wasn’t even born when she had the stroke.

AVERY We were what, like 4-something, right?

RILEY Yep, I can’t remember her ever saying anything except “No-wonder-no-way.”

TAYLOR I can. One time we were all over at her house, and she took me in the kitchen. Just me. She was making chopped liver. And she put down the onion and looked at me and said: (quotes, sincerely) “You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”

ELLIOT Really? She said that?

AVERY No, Elliot. Grandma was not the poet Mary Oliver. And Taylor was two years old.

TAYLOR But a very precocious two. C'mon guys, gimme some credit, I pulled that poem outta my ass.

CHARLIE I love it.

Charlie’s laugh dissolves into coughing.

RILEY Easy my dude. Hey, wanna do a little breath-work, you guys?

AVERY Umm, isn’t that kind of insensitive to Charlie?

RILEY Umm, this is for Charlie. Gotta work those lungs, champ. C'mon, everyone, inhale through your mouth, straight down to the belly, blow it up big, like a balloon.

Riley flips camera, lifts t-shirt, exposes belly button, and blows it up.

AVERY Nobody wants to see that.

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RILEY Grandma likes my li'l Buddha belly. C'mon breathe with me, guys. Let's pump up the jams.

Riley blasts music. Avery pounds the wall.

AVERY Shut it, Riley!

RILEY YOU SHUT IT, AVERY!

AVERY/RILEY SHUT IT! SHUT IT! SHUTTTTTT ITTTTTTTTTTT!

GRANDMA (Distressed) No-wonder-no-way-Oh-God!

AVERY Swear to shit, I never thought I'd be stuck here with this.

RILEY And I did?

AVERY Hey, you moved back for free rent and food. I got stuck!

RILEY Oh right, baby got a cough and had to quarantine.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way!

AVERY It’s allergies, Grandma. I don't have the damn Covid.

RILEY Isn't that kind of insensitive to Charlie?

AVERY I'm gonna come in there and cough on you!

Avery runs out of the frame. Riley ducks, screams:

RILEY

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MOM!

AVERY (Returns, laughing) Jesus, Riley, take a joke?

RILEY Not funny.

TAYLOR Ri's right, it's not funny. But this is.

Taylor pulls up background of Nancy Pelosi side-clapping, and a Trump filter.

AVERY No, that’s disrespectful to the office of our president!

A new voice over black box 8:

JORDAN (O.S.) Am I on? I don't see me. Bollocks, how do I get a picture?

ANGEL I gotchu, Jordan.

JORDAN (O.S.) Who’s that?

AVERY On my app, the screen opens automatically.

Jordan appears.

JORDAN Yeah, well no one wants to pay for your dodgy app, you little prat. Sorry I'm late, Grandma. I had to wait for my bloody flatmate to sign off her bloody Call of Duty, so I could get some bloody bandwidth.

RILEY Stop saying "bloody."

ELLIOT Are you still in London?

JORDAN Uni's only half through Spring Term.

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RILEY Don't say "uni" either

JORDAN So yeah, I'm stuck here, taking this bloody Playwriting course and I haven't even started writing my bloody play yet because what's there to even bloody write about? It's the end of bloody theatre as we know it.

RILEY That’s four, wanna go for five?

JORDAN I'm bloody done.

RILEY We'll count it.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way-no-wonder-no-way—wonder-no-wonder-Oh-God—

ANGEL It’s OK, Elsie. They’re all here.

ELLIOT Um no, actually we’re not. She wants to know where Quinny is.

TAYLOR How do you know?

ELLIOT Me and Grandma have a thing. We're birthday buddies.

JORDAN Bollocks, that's right. Happy birthday, Grandma!

ELLIOT And? Happy birthday, Elliot?

JORDAN Are you a hundred today?

ELLIOT No, but twenty-two.

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JORDAN Then sod off. Happy hundredth, Grandma.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way, no-wonder-no-way.

ANGEL (Typing) I’m checking the emails. I thought we got everyone.

TAYLOR Maybe Quinny’s beamed back up to the Mothership. (puts on Aliens filter) Am I right guys?

ANGEL Sorry?

TAYLOR (Alien voice) We first met the being you call Quinn as small child. At the park. On the Big Toy. By the sandbox. We have been probing—er, I mean communicating— ever since. (filter/voice off) Seriously, Angel-face, our cuz is deep into some Area 54 shit.

RILEY It's called the Galactic Federation of Light.

AVERY Yes, Taylor, please do your homework. Our cousin is a galactic service being.

JORDAN Wait, what? I didn’t know any of this. Galactic—what again?

QUINN (O.S) Galactic Federation of Light. Google it, Jordan, it's not a joke.

Box 9 opens. Quinn enters.

Google it, Jordan, it’s not a joke.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way-Oh-God.

QUINN See Grandma knows. I bring birthday greetings from the light beings, Grandma. They're with you. But you know that.

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JORDAN (Googling, scanning, bookmarking) Look at all these YouTube videos—“Galactic Federation,” “19 Days of Darkness,” “The Silent Secret.” How have I never heard of this?

QUINN And that's only what's gone public. I could give you access codes to protected videos that'd fry your brainstem.

JORDAN Oh yes! Please, fry my brainstem! Can we record this?

QUINN Why?

JORDAN Are you kidding? This is my play. It's bloody brilliant!

RILEY What did I say about that word?

QUINN Jordan, I can't tell if you're being serious right now or an asshole.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way.

ELLIOT Grandma says asshole.

QUINN It's OK, Grandma. I know they all think I'm freakin' weird. But c’mon, what's not right now? That orange atrocity and his brown-shirt cult?

AVERY Hey, now—

QUINN He's off a game show, Avery! And a shitty one, too. We could've had Alex Trebeck, but nooo—we had to “elect” this horrible joke of a human being to make things so bad, so horribly bad that the rest of us would finally wake the hell up, get our shit together, and agree to a freakin' paradigm shift! That's what this is, you know. Him. The Covid, the cops, the curfews. Us doing Grandma's 100th birthday like we're the freakin' Brady Bunch. What about any of this isn't completely freaking weird? And completely freaking happening?

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GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way-Oh-God!

ELLIOT So what are we supposed to do about it?

TAYLOR/AVERY/RILEY Elliot!/Jesus!/No!

QUINN Thank you for asking, Elliot. I'll tell you what we do. We get out of the way. Of the sky, and the birds, and the pandas fucking in the zoo. We do the time-out. And when Mother Gaia decides it's time to come out and play again, we don't screw it again, OK? So yeah, write your play, Jordie. Make your jokes, Tay. Avery do the app. Riley, drink the wine. Charlie—heal. Please. Everyone just do like you are. This’ll end. And we’ll be different. And that’s OK.

Quinn checks in with her cousins. Each, with no better alternative, nods.

CHARLIE Can we still at least sing? (coughing, singing) Happy Birthday—Come on, you guys—

AVERY We can't on Zoom, not all at the same time. On my app—

CHARLIE Shut it, Avery. (Starts again) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

COUSINS/ANGEL/GRANDMA HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

ELLIOT Wait, you guys, look! Grandma’s—is she—singing?

ANGEL Elsie had a left-side stroke. Music is right brain—

ELLIOT You could sing all this time?

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way

ELLIOT

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Then let's sing. (sings) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU

ALL HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR—

COUSINS/ANGEL GRANDMA

GRANDMA ELLIOT

ELLIOT SHE SANG MY NAME! SHE SANG MY NAME!

ALL HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.

Blackout.

ELLIOT You sang my name.

GRANDMA No-wonder-no-way.

End play

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ABUNDANCE

James Still

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Abundance was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Risa Brainin.

Cast: ANNIE………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Julie Fishell

A requiem on Zoom, written for one person, Abundance takes place in an emotional space that might seem like limbo, bardo, and twilight all rolled into one. Abundance is about one person’s surprisingly joyful and heartbreaking moments between death and the mystery of what comes next. But at its heart the play is very much about epiphany and generosity, about discovery and gifts, about connections and saying goodbye. Can you see me? Is anyone out there? -James Still

James Still's plays have been produced throughout the U.S., Canada, Europe, Australia, South Africa, China and Japan. Four-time Pulitzer nominee, five-time Emmy nominee, and honored to have developed several of his plays with LAUNCH PAD. He is the Playwright in Residence at Indiana Repertory Theatre and lives in Los Angeles. he/him/his

For inquiries contact Bret Adams, Ltd. 212-765-5630 or the author at [email protected]

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ABUNDANCE (a requiem on zoom)

By James Still

A WOMAN—let’s definitely call her ANNIE—flickers into view.

Don't get cute with the background—the space should be empty, not even neutral— empty.

Empty can be beautiful.

Annie looks out at us. We can see her but she can't see us.

ANNIE Hello? (. . .) Hello?

Annie looks around.

Huh. (. . .) Anyone there? (. . .) Maybe you can see me? (. . .) Am I on mute?

Annie leans in and fiddles with her device.

This was the link, I mean, this is Zoom, right? I'm on Zoom. I don't know why I'm on Zoom, but this was definitely the link. Am I in the right place?

Annie looks at us. She waits. (. . .) (. . .) (. . .)

Well.

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(. . .) Um. . . I came as soon as I could, as soon as I got the text with the link, the invitation. As soon as I— this is so new to me. You probably hear that a lot. But I'm not sure what happens next. You probably hear that a lot too.

(. . .)

OK, why don't I talk— and if you want to say anything— can anyone hear me? I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for. Or who I'm supposed to be looking for. I—. . . I don't know if this is what usually happens— I don't know how long this part lasts, I mean, things ended sooner than they should have— or maybe they ended exactly when they were supposed to. But I'm no longer— I mean, obviously—I’m not, you know. . . What I want to say is that I'm guessing most people come here to tell you that they didn't have enough time, that there was so much more they wanted to do, and that maybe they could make a bargain. I'm just guessing?— but you hear about that kind of stuff, that kind of reaction. And sure, part of me feels that way too. That's human, right? Am I making any sense? Can anyone see me—because I still can't see anyone. Are you. . . ? (. . .) I'm getting the feeling you aren't going to answer me. If I could just see you— maybe you could nod or something. But I can't see you so maybe you could make a noise? Maybe you could snap your fingers? Or yodel? Or clap your hands. Maybe sing a line from Puccini or a song by Joni Mitchell? I don't know.

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Annie waits. Complete silence.

I need to say this one thing— that even though it seemed short, shorter than I planned— I really had a good life. It's not that terrible things didn't happen, or that I didn't know sorrow, or that I accomplished every single thing I ever hoped I would— but it was all very—human. . . and tender. . . and small. . . But enormous. Yeah, that's it—mine was an enormous life. There was so much. . . abundance. Isn't that a beautiful word? Abundance. I could say it a million times and never not love the way it sounds, the way it feels. I had more than enough— I had plenty, in fact. And I don't mean money, I don't mean that I was rich. But my life was rich— I knew. . . abundance. In the end the only thing I didn't have enough of was—time. That's the mystery, right? In the end, that's the thing we can't get more of. . . time. So I'm wondering— and maybe this is against the rules, but since I don't even know the rules I figure it's worth asking.

(. . .)

Some people— when they die— they leave money, they leave jewelry, family pictures, maybe a house or some heirloom, some material thing that whoever gets it can touch it, hold it, and call it theirs. But I was wondering—

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in fact, I'm really hoping— that instead of leaving any of that kind of stuff behind I wonder if I might leave some time. Can I give that away? Is it mine to give? Can I leave time to someone who needs it? Please? I'd love to make it someone special but I also don't want to push my luck here. I think I'm asking for a lot. But time is the one thing I used to have so much of even when I didn't know I had so much of it. 60 seconds to a minute. 3,600 seconds to an hour. 86,400 seconds to a day. 604,800 seconds to a week. 31,449,600 seconds to a year. I think that comes to well over a billion seconds in my life. A billion! That's crazy, right? Time.

(. . .)

Since I don't know you and can't see you and can't hear you— I'm going to pretend. I'm going to pretend I can see everyone I ever loved, everyone I ever knew, everyone I ever met.

Annie looks out at us and we feel seen.

Hello. I see you. And you're beautiful. Every one of you. Every single one of you. O god I'm going to miss you. I want all of you to take a deep breath— do it with me. Come on—do it.

Annie takes a deep breath and audibly exhales.

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That was amazing. That sound— the sound of. . . time. The sound of life. Over a billion seconds. It goes by quickly.

New idea.

All of you— every one of you gets one extra second. Whoever sees this, whoever is out there. It's yours. From me to you. Abundance. One. Beautiful. Perfect. Second. It's a mystery. Savor it. And one more thing—

But Annie is suddenly muted, she's beginning to disappear, the image of her slowly fading on our screens. She is moving her lips, but we can't hear what she says. She does this for several seconds— we'll never know what she said. Whatever screen you're watching goes dark.

The play is over.

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MOM’S KIDS a reunion on the zoom

James Still

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Mom’s Kids was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Michael Bernard.

Cast: MOM………………………………………………………………………………………………………Cheri Steinkellner JACK…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Harry Davis JILL………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Betty Galindo THOR……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Dillon Redd

There has been a lot of conversation about being at our best while sheltering in place —and then there are Mom’s kids. . . . I wrote Mom’s Kids wondering about people who didn’t get that memo, siblings who aren’t swayed by gratitude for Zoom and habitually turn everything up a notch so they are actually at their worst. Of course under the dark/savage humor of the play are the bare anxieties and fears that so many of us are feeling in the Spring of 2020. And Mom? She has something to say, but her children are too busy freaking out to listen. And then they do. Wait—Mom said WHAT??? -James Still

For inquiries contact Bret Adams, Ltd. 212-765-5630 or the author at [email protected]

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MOM'S KIDS (a reunion on the zoom)

By James Still

Characters: MOM: a woman in her 50s MOM's KIDS (in their 20s): JACK, JILL, and THOR

The four of them are in different locations, alone & together on Zoom. We drop in on the middle of something:

JACK . . . but what was so important we had to do this on Zoom? Are you ok?

JILL Are you sick?

THOR Are you having symptoms?

JACK Are you out of toilet paper?

THOR What the fuck, Mom?

JACK Oh god.

THOR What? What did I miss?

JILL Your lighting there is terrible, Thor. You look awful.

THOR Shut up. Why isn't Mom talking?

JACK Mom! So what is this? Are you marrying that guy?

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THOR What guy?

JACK The guy.

THOR I didn't know Mom was seeing a guy.

JILL That guy's a loser, Mom. Please don't ruin your life with a loser.

THOR What guy?

JACK Mom?

(. . . )

JILL Mom!

JACK Why isn't she talking?

JILL Maybe it's a bad connection.

THOR Blink twice if you can hear us.

JILL Mom! Talk!

THOR Why is she being so weird?

JACK Shut up, Thor. She's not being weird—

THOR You don't call this weird?

JILL I hate both of you—just everybody shut up! Mom: seriously: what's going on?

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THOR Don't be all pretend-y with Mom—don’t do that in front of us—

JACK "Pretend-y" isn't really a word, Thor.

THOR Shut up, Jack, I'm talking to Jill. So don't act like we don't know what you're doing.

JILL What? What am I doing, Thor?

JACK Don't play innocent, Jill—we know all your tricks.

JILL My tricks?

JACK You're such a manipulator.

JILL For fuck's sake, would you the two of you not gang up on me—for once? Just for frickin' once?

THOR You're so good at playing the victim.

JILL When someone gets attacked they ARE the victim!

JACK We did not attack you.

JILL What do you call it then? The two of you coming at me—it’s always like this—

THOR Always??? Queen of the hyperbole, your royal asswipe.

JILL Very mature, Thor.

THOR (Mocking her) “Very mature, Thor."

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JILL Shut up!

JACK Who's attacking who?

JILL I can't stand to be anywhere near the two of you, I never have, I never will—

JACK Well lucky for all of us, with this virus thing we can't be anywhere near each other.

THOR I already hate this whole fake Zoom culture stuff, it makes me feel too connected. It's overwhelming, right?

JILL I still hate you both, I hate you equally, I hate you twice as much as I hate you each.

THOR That is just stupid.

JILL I hate you even more on Zoom.

JACK You don't even make sense.

JILL How would you know?

JACK About what?

JILL About making sense, about being sane, about not being an asshole!!!

JACK (To Thor) Do you believe her?

JILL How long since you've been sober?

JACK What?

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JILL I know you're drunk, I can smell it on you through the internet—it’s oozing out of your virtual pores like pus.

THOR You don't have to be gross, Jill. You know I get motion sickness—

JILL Then stop moving!

THOR I'm not moving, it's the idea of all that oozing pus—

JACK I can't believe you'd go after my drinking—on Zoom no less. That's just low.

JILL I'm talking truth, I'm a truth-teller.

JACK You're talking trash—you know how hard I've been working to get sober—

JILL And it hasn't worked, clearly, because you probably woke up drunk.

THOR That is really low, Jilly.

JILL Don't call me “Jilly”—we're not kids, I'm not your baby sister who you get to drag around like a pet and then forget about whenever you get bored.

THOR Oh not that again. Really? Really?

JILL Yes, really. It happened. It's fucked up.

THOR Fine.

JACK I'm still back there on the part about pus oozing out of my virtual pores—

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THOR Oh Jesus, stop it!

JILL Not pus—like pus—alcohol oozing out of your virtual pores like pus.

THOR I think I'm going to throw up now.

JILL DramaQueen DramaQueen DramaQueen—

THOR Now you're going after my sexual orientation?

JILL Which is just a fancy way of saying "Thor likes cock”—

JACK (Laughing) OK—that was funny. Plus one for Jill.

THOR It wasn't funny, it was disgusting. And it's just like you to keep score.

JACK Don't get all up in your self-loathing, bro.

THOR Is this about me trying to kill myself? Is that what this is about?

JACK I didn't say anything about you trying to kill yourself.

THOR And don't call me “bro."

JILL What are you talking about? You tried to kill yourself? When? (. . . ) When? Thor?

THOR . . .

JILL Jesus! Why didn't someone tell me?

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(JILL cont’d—to THOR) Are you ok? I mean, it didn't work, obviously—but are you ok? Are you getting help?

THOR What do you care? You can be such a bitch, Jill.

JILL You can call me Jilly.

THOR I don't want to call you Jilly—I want to call you bitch.

JILL You can call me that too. But how could you keep that a secret from me?

THOR This isn't about you!

JACK She always makes it about her. That's the thing about Jill—

THOR You heard it too, right?

JACK Anybody could hear that.

JILL Stop ganging up on me! Seriously!

JACK Just because me and Thor agree about something, doesn't mean we're ganging up on you. It just means we're right and you're wrong.

JILL "Thor and I”—not "me and Thor”—

JACK Bitch.

THOR Double-bitch.

JILL Mom? Please tell them to stop ganging up on me.

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THOR Don't fall for it, Mom. You know how she is.

JACK What are we doing here anyway?

The three of them look at Mom.

JACK (cont'd) So? Mom?

JILL Please don't tell me you've got the virus. Should we be wearing face masks?

JACK You can't get it on Zoom.

THOR Is everything OK, Mom?

JILL OK, if you really want to marry Jerry or Harry or whatever his name is—

JACK Barry.

JILL Barry, that's what I meant.

THOR Who's Barry? Why didn't I know anything about Barry?

JACK It is not OK! Barry is a jerk.

THOR Who the fuck is Barry!!???!!!

JACK He's some dude Mom's been seeing.

THOR How did they meet?

JACK Blind date.

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JILL It wasn't exactly a blind date—

JACK Yes, it was. Mom and Barry met on a blind date.

JILL They met on Tinder—

THOR Our mother met a guy named Barry on Tinder? I feel sick.

JACK That is not true—

JILL It is true, I helped her set up her account.

THOR I'm feeling nauseous—

JILL DramaQueen—

THOR No, I really think I might throw up—

JACK Don't be an idiot, Thor. And don't take your laptop with you, I don't want to watch you throw up.

THOR Why am I an idiot? Because I'm almost throwing up?

JACK Because you didn't know about Mom and Gary.

JILL Barry.

THOR That isn't my fault, I'm not intimately involved with our mother's dating life. I have boundaries. Why would you help her set up a Tinder account anyway, that's just weird. And inappropriate.

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JILL It's not weird. I dated Barry first and we didn't click—but I thought maybe Mom would like him.

JACK So you set them up?!?

THOR That's likes sloppy seconds.

JILL I didn't set them up—Mom, tell them. (she doesn't wait) When Barry showed up on Mom's Tinder I told her to give it a shot.

THOR I need to lie down.

JILL Just lie on the floor, you're fine.

We can see Thor as he lies on the floor.

JACK Mom?

Mom looks at her children.

MOM < loud sigh >

They look at Mom.

JILL What did that mean? What did < loud sigh > mean?

JACK Mom?

Thor sits up.

THOR You can tell us anything, Mom. We're here for you.

JACK One hundred percent.

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JILL Two hundred percent.

JACK Three hundred percent.

JILL Four hundred percent.

JACK Five hundred—

THOR Shut the fuck up! Mom—please. We're here for you—six-hundred percent.

MOM OK. I woke up this morning and had one single and very happy thought. I actually like sheltering at home because I knew there was zero chance that I would have to see any of my children in person today. (new idea:) I don't love you. The three of you—I really don't love any of you. I don't even like you. I don't love you, and I don't think I ever will. I haven't loved you for a very long time. Oh I pretended I loved you, I nodded and cooed and smiled, but inside I couldn't wait for all of you to just grow up and leave. The truth is that being around any of you is absolute torture. I don't know what I did wrong, but whatever it was, obviously I can't count parenting as one of my great accomplishments. I want the three of you to hear it from me today—on the Zoom—that I don't love you. I'm not trying to be mean and it's not that I'm not capable—I’m a very loving person, everyone says so. I mean I'm naturally maternal, I love children—just not my own. I love other people's children, I've loved some of them to the point of obsession hoping I'd feel the same for any one of my own. But I don't. I don't love any of you, not a one, not a bit. It turns out that I am oh-for-three when it comes to loving my own children.

Silence. Mom’s kids are stunned. Finally Jack starts to laugh. Jill gets the giggles. Thor chuckles nervously.

MOM (cont'd) I'm serious. Now stay safe, practice social distancing, and wash your hands. If you go out in public wear a mask.

Mom smiles, energized by the truth.

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MOM (cont'd) I'm going now if I can figure out how to turn this thing—

Mom disconnects. Jack, Jill, and Thor look at each other (as best they can on Zoom). One at a time they exit Zoom.

END

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WAITING FOR NOW

James Still

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Waiting for Now was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Leo Cabranes- Grant.

Cast: ESTHER……………………………………………………………………………………………………………Ryan Hollon POLLY…………………………………………………………………………………………………Alexandra Singleton

Set in a prison and seen on security cameras, Waiting for Now is written for two incarcerated women who are caught in a disturbing loop of timelessness and middle of the night existential questioning. Inspired by my work in the prison system (with a humble nod to Mr. Beckett), I wanted all of us to remember one of our more vulnerable populations during the Covid-19 crisis. -James Still

For inquiries contact Bret Adams, Ltd. 212-765-5630 or the author at [email protected]

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WAITING FOR NOW a duet on security cameras

By James Still

Characters: ESTHER: older. POLLY: younger.

They are in separate prison cells, right next to each other. They can hear each other but can't see each other. We can see them both—at the same time, separately. We are watching them on security cameras. The two women look out at us. They don't know if it's night or day. It feels like night. Far away on another floor, in a place where it's allowed— we hear the far-away sound of a song playing on the radio. Esther and Polly listen and can hear Nina Simone singing.

RADIO (o.s.) < NINA SIMONE singing the song "Consummation" >

After the song has established—just enough but not too much, the radio is suddenly snapped off.

POLLY Hey! Why'd they do that? (. . .) Why'd they kill the music?

ESTHER They just do.

POLLY (Shouting) MURDERER!!!

ESTHER Stop it, you'll get us in trouble. Again.

POLLY I'm not afraid anymore.

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ESTHER Good for you.

POLLY Why'd they kill my music?

ESTHER They kill everything. They kill us if we let them. Always doin’ things. They're like a verb with too much confidence.

POLLY What's that mean, a verb?

ESTHER A verb, you know: action, doing something. It's something you do.

POLLY Do? What about us? What do we do?

ESTHER We wait. (. . .) We wait. (. . .) We wait.

(. . .)

POLLY What are we waiting for?

ESTHER We're waiting for. . . now. . . and. . . now. . . and. . . now. Time. It's time.

POLLY Time for what?

ESTHER Time to wait.

POLLY

The blind don't know time, dont know what it is.

ESTHER You blind?

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POLLY I'm not blind but that doesn't mean I can see. I can't see the past—the now. I can't go on like this.

ESTHER That's what you think.

POLLY It's what I know.

ESTHER It's what you think you know. Let it be. Wait.

POLLY What are we waiting for?

ESTHER I just told you—

POLLY No—what are we waiting for? What is there to wait for? I mean, all this waiting. . . what if ain't worth it? (. . .) What are we waiting for?

ESTHER We're waiting for different things.

POLLY But how can I wait if I don't know what I'm waiting for?

ESTHER You'll know when you know.

POLLY But when will that be?

ESTHER Now but not yet.

(. . .)

POLLY I can't go on like this!

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ESTHER That's what you think.

POLLY What can we do? What verb you wanna be?

ESTHER (. . .)

POLLY Is it morning yet?

ESTHER It's morning, it's night, it's neither. Don't know.

POLLY You aren't helping.

ESTHER That's not my verb.

POLLY Does morning and night have to feel the same?

ESTHER In here it's all the same until it's not.

POLLY I don't like all this waiting.

ESTHER You don't have a choice. This is not religion. This is not a love story. You don't get to choose your story. This is just. . . now.

(. . .)

POLLY Has it been years?

ESTHER Probably.

POLLY But maybe it's only days. Or maybe we just got here and this is all the beginning.

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ESTHER We've done the beginning. This is not the beginning.

POLLY Then maybe it's the end of the beginning.

ESTHER We've been here awhile. I've been here. Probably years.

POLLY What happens next?

ESTHER Wait and see.

POLLY I don't like waiting.

ESTHER Yeah, you said. But still. . .

POLLY Still. (soft sigh)

(. . .)

ESTHER Stop thinking so loudly.

POLLY I don't know what to think softly.

ESTHER Then don't think at all.

Polly tries not to think at all. Fails. Polly tries again to not think at all. Fails. Polly starts to try again to not think at all—

POLLY I can't do it! I can't go on like this!

ESTHER That's what you think.

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POLLY You told me not to think.

ESTHER Then don't think and it won't be what you think.

(. . .)

POLLY I think I fell asleep.

ESTHER I told you not to think.

(. . .)

POLLY Did I fall asleep?

ESTHER When?

POLLY Just then, before now. Did I fall asleep?

ESTHER Maybe.

POLLY I was dreaming I was happy. But the dream wasn't happy because I knew it was a dream, because I knew I was only dreaming I was happy.

ESTHER Were you happy or not?

POLLY Who am I? It's a real question.

ESTHER In your dreams you're always the dreamer.

POLLY Ah. I was happy I was dreaming but I was not happy it was a dream.

ESTHER I get that.

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They look out at us, it feels like they see us.

POLLY What are we waiting for?

ESTHER The answer keeps changing.

POLLY But what are waiting for now? Does it have a name?

ESTHER It has a name. But I don't know it.

POLLY Because you forgot?

ESTHER Because I don't know it.

POLLY Let's make one up.

ESTHER You mean a name?

POLLY Yeah, let's give it a name—let’s give it a name so I can give it a piece of my mind. (yelling) MURDERER!

ESTHER Stop it! Not that. That isn't its name.

POLLY You don't know its name but you know what isn't its name.

ESTHER That's it, that's true.

POLLY Thief. Time-Robber. Shadow. Rut. Heartbreaker. (. . .) (. . .) (. . .)

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POLLY (cont’d) Maybe we're not waiting for it. Maybe it's waiting for us. Wouldn't that be funny? All this waiting around, and then we find out we aren't the ones waiting—that all along it’s been waiting for us. It's just waiting. Everyone's waiting. (. . .) What are we waiting for?

ESTHER To get somewhere. To be somewhere, somewhere else. To not be here.

(. . .)

POLLY Are we there yet?

ESTHER No, honey, we're not there. We're always here.

Polly and Esther look around their cells. Polly sings softly—picking up where Nina Simone left off. . . the singing is not defiance, but resignation. Polly sings/hums/sings. Esther listens to the music, begins to dance with herself. It's not a metaphor. She's dancing. Dancing is a verb too. This goes on. The security cameras suddenly snap off. The two women are still waiting even though we can't see them. We can feel them waiting.

The play is over.

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WHITMAN V. UNITED STATES: CASE 36 (VIA ZOOM)

James Still

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Whitman vs. the United States: Case 36 (Via Zoom) was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Selene Betancourt.

Cast: ROBIN……………………………………………………………………………………………………Maison “Bub” Bray JUDGE………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Brian Harwell

Part fever dream and part digital trial, Whitman v The United States is about a writer battling some very particular demons while the world shelters in place. With all the arts shuttered in the U.S., many of us are wandering around not sure why we’re writing and whether or not any of it will ever see the light of day. With anxiety and uncertainty as a writer’s primary companions, Whitman takes things a bit further as a writer imagines being on trial for writing stories that have no plot. . . . -James Still

For inquiries contact Bret Adams, Ltd. 212-765-5630 or the author at [email protected]

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WHITMAN v THE UNITED STATES, CASE 36 (via Zoom)

By James Still

ROBIN—a writer of stories—stands before a JUDGE in a U.S. court of law. Except they may not be standing, they aren't really in a court of law—each are in their own domestic spaces. The case is happening via Zoom. Or maybe it's happening in Robin's writerly imagination. . .

JUDGE (Formal). . . heretofore as charged by the government of the United States, you, Robin Whitman, plaintiff in Case 36 also known as "Whitman v The United States" have been asked by this Court to state your reasons for bringing this matter to the Court's attention. Let the record show that you have waived your right of representation and that you will be speaking on your own behalf. Please acknowledge such for the records.

ROBIN Um—

JUDGE Let us also acknowledge the unusual circumstances that have forced this court to hear this case not in the usual way. While we continue to observe sheltering-in-place, the work of the court is being held in this digital space rather than the usual courtroom setting. (less formal) Fine. The court will now hear your side of things. And this better be good.

ROBIN Right. OK. So—I’ve been charged by the United States Government with preferring stories without plots. . . . I ask the Court to consider the irony—I mean, we live in a time when it's usually the opposite charge made against its citizens—that being a charge of "plotting" to overthrow the government or some such sinister and dark wrongdoing.

JUDGE The court asks that you get to the point. You are charged with telling stories with no plot.

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ROBIN And my point is that telling stories without a plot is its own kind of plot. It's like negative space—do you understand? The concept known as "negative space" is still a kind of space. In a story that has no plot—that is its plot!

JUDGE How do you figure?

ROBIN Well I'm here defending plotlessness—and yet by doing so I'm actually creating a plot which in its own strange way then is defending the plot by pretending to defend plotlessness.

JUDGE Whoa whoa whoa—

ROBIN There's plot in everything!—Think about nature: we even call it "a plot of land." And on that plot of land one might plant a seed—let’s call that the inciting incident. It's an action that disrupts something that's otherwise static. Then at a certain point, it might rain—and not long after that some kind of shoot might poke out of the ground. Now "shoot" is an interesting word because of course in my telling "shoot" is a noun. But "shoot" is also a verb—and a verb is action. And as I'm sure you know a plot is often (and maybe always) characterized by action, by what happens in its story. So the shoot in the plot of land gets inspired and grows little by little, maybe it has a sudden spurt of growth. Do you know that there is anecdotal proof that corn has been known to grow so fast that one can actually hear it growing at night?

JUDGE Anecdotal proof? That's not something permissible in a court of law.

ROBIN I understand, your Honor—

JUDGE Do you?

ROBIN Well since you brought up the court of law, I imagine there may be long stretches of time in your courtroom when there seems to be nothing going on—when there seems to be no plot. Still—I am sure you would agree that those days or weeks in a courtroom when nothing seems to be happening—it is not without a story. Something is happening below the surface, information is being assembled and presented—and sometimes that takes a long time.

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JUDGE So am I to believe that your commitment to “plotlessness," as you have so "poetically" dubbed it—that it only has to do with things that take time?

ROBIN Time is an ingredient in storytelling—but it's only one part of the experience. The issue at hand is whether or not plotlessness is a crime against humanity. I have been charged with a crime, have I not?

JUDGE You have. And if you don't get to the point, I may charge you with additional crimes.

ROBIN And that's what I'm here to argue against. I cannot defend plotlessness one way or another—

JUDGE Then what are we doing here?

ROBIN Storytelling is ultimately subjective. One man's floor is another man's ceiling. But I can argue that the instinct to tiptoe out into a frontier where plot is not queen—the artist is also not criminal. If I have committed any crime—which I haven’t!—but for the sake of this hearing, I would agree that plotlessness is not for everyone and that the real crime might be in settling for a smaller audience.

JUDGE Is it not Un-American not to want to be exceptional?

ROBIN American Exceptionalism—I’m glad you bring that up, because my argument is that it may not be particularly exceptional to perpetuate stories that appeal to the most common denominator, ones that are most easily digested by the most people possible.

JUDGE You're on shaky ground there—you risk sounding like an envious wannabe.

ROBIN Noted, your Honor. And, yes, of course, that's a risk many artists have to wrestle with —like Jacob wrestling the angel in Genesis.

JUDGE Please do not forget separation of Church and State.

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ROBIN Yes, your Honor, but still—there is usefulness in considering the metaphor rather than the plot. Take the story of Jacob wrestling the angel—there are multiple interpretations of the meaning of that so-called plot. This is an example of how sometimes less plot can invite more meaning. I wonder if the court has ever brought charges against a citizen for over-plotting—because in my experience the offense of over-plotting is far more egregious than the possible crime of plotlessness.

JUDGE Would you go so far as to say that "plotlessness" then is a kind of under-plotting.

ROBIN (Thinking, then:) Not exactly. No. In my experience I have noted a kind of laziness or amateurish quality when it comes to under-plotting. It's usually the lame result of a storyteller who can't be bothered. But the storyteller who commits to plotlessness has to wrestle angels—there is rigor and skill and commitment involved. In plain English: it's harder than it looks.

JUDGE Just because it's hard to do doesn't make it legal or accomplished.

ROBIN Fine—but consider the precedent that would be set if you decide in favor of the charges made against me by the United States government. What can be more plotless than the unplanned encounters between people in their every day lives? Conversations over a cup of coffee or a glass of wine—why should those inherently human stories be crammed with plot? What if nothing happens in those simple conversations—are they still not valuable? Can they not make impact, maybe even change a life?

JUDGE But then they are no longer plotless.

ROBIN Exactly! And that's the next point I want to make—because it illustrates perfectly how it may indeed be impossible to tell a completely plotless story. Stories cast their own kinds of spells, it's like "story dust" that settles on the people who share those stories. And that "story dust" stays in the air, on our clothes, in our hair, in our pores—long after the story itself is told. And that "story dust" might end up on someone else, or on a surface that someone touches—not like a germ or a virus, but like a glance or a kiss. Stories carry forward. Energy begets energy. Jacob wrestled the angel—and we're still talking about it thousands of years later. What does it mean? Why can it mean something so vastly different from person to person? How is that possible? Because Art —and please let the record show I am vehemently saying "Art" with a "capital A”—Art has to be personal. It makes meaning in its own mysterious ways—plot or no plot.

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JUDGE Then why are we talking about it if it's going to make meaning whether we like it or not?

ROBIN Because that gets to the heart of this case—which is about the genuine privilege of being an artist, of being granted the immense and awesome responsibility of telling stories so that humanity might have some reason to be hopeful, to reflect on the past and dream about the future, to imagine the world after we're gone, leaving something by making something—plot or plotless. It's fucking humbling.

JUDGE Did you just say "fucking" in my courtroom.

ROBIN I'm so sorry, your Honor. I apologize.

JUDGE Right. Fine. We'll strike "fucking" from the record.

ROBIN Thank you.

JUDGE Well. I've listened to what you have to say and I greatly appreciate your passion and thoughtfulness. In the case of Whitman v the United States—

ROBIN Excuse me, your Honor.

JUDGE Did you just interrupt me?

ROBIN It's just the language, you know—the very name of my case—“Whitman v the United States”—I'm not against the United States. That makes it sound like I'm the enemy— and I'm not. To disagree or to challenge doesn't make me a winner or loser, it makes me human, it makes me a responsible citizen, it makes me want to create change in the world.

JUDGE The simple fact is that it falls to me to decide whether your penchant for plotlessness is a crime against humanity, whether it endangers the citizens of this country, and whether or not such works of art—spelled with a capital "A" or not—will continue to be imagined and perhaps even celebrated. I note the irony as well—I have sat on this bench and listened to cases where the crime charged was about a plot against the

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United States—and here you are charged with plotlessness against the United States. The truth is that I'm glad to have lived long enough and to have been privileged to sit in this job long enough that I am hearing this case. Listening to you—at times meandering and often seemingly without a point—dare I say plotless—I have been moved to remember the power of a lone dissenter, the beauty of a wronged person standing up for themselves and reminding forces bigger and less nuanced than the person themselves just how fucking beautiful it is to be human. I want everyone to remember that—especially now. Especially now when we are all of us alone, together. (. . .) Your presentation today may go down as plotless, but somehow through its plotlessness a story was told and I am ruling in the plaintiff's favor, that is to say, I am ruling in favor of Whitman in Case 36, Whitman v the United States.

ROBIN Thank you.

JUDGE Now get back to work, go wrestle some angels. We're depending on you.

BAILIFF (V.O.) All rise!

The Judge exits the screen. Maybe he's only wearing boxer shorts. Robin watches the Judge go. We can tell by looking at Robin that they are already thinking of a new story— plotless or not. Writers write.

END

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FLIGHT

Alison Tatlock

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Flight was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Sara Rademacher.

Cast: QUEEN…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Lindsay Ray RUNNER……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Cyrus Roberts

This piece was inspired by my fifteen-year-old daughter’s obsession with dystopian YA novels. It was written during a Quarantine. . . and performed during an Uprising. -Alison Tatlock

Alison Tatlock (she/her/hers) currently writes for the AMC series Better Call Saul. Previous television credits: Halt and Catch Fire; Stranger Things; In Treatment. Alison's plays include The Shore (Ensemble Studio Theatre—The LA Project); The Catch (developed at New York Stage and Film); Untitled IV by Ruth Markofsky (UCSB LAUNCH PAD).

Rob Golenberg Silver Lining Entertainment [email protected] 310-566-3684

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FLIGHT

By Alison Tatlock

Characters: RUNNER QUEEN

Dark. Hear heavy breathing. The screen comes alive with an abstract, chaotic image. A young man is running down a dark street, panting, filming himself with his phone. This is RUNNER. He's in a panic.

The screen splits. . . and a second frame opens. A woman’s face fills the other half of the screen—serene, regal, imperious. This is QUEEN. She wears an elaborate crown of indeterminate origin and heavy, stylized make-up—dramatically lined eyes, painted lips, colorful rouge. A glorious wig frames her powdered visage. The collar of her gown is bright and silky.

The Runner continues to flee. His camera catches what it can—shadows, flashes of his features, random close-ups of his breathing mouth, his furrowed brow, his heaving chest. It slips from his hand, he catches it.

The Queen incants in fluent gibberish, her voice powerful:

QUEEN Stahhh, badda-badda, stahhh. Cheen-ah-reen-tee, cheen-ah-rone-tee. Tim-timmer, time.

The Runner runs. The contrast between the Queen's steady face on one panel and the chaotic movement on the other panel is. . . disorienting.

QUEEN Our son.

No response. At first, Queen is empathetic.

QUEEN Son-bun. . . please. Stahh, badda-badda.

She watches him.

QUEEN It's good you are still with us. But you must stop.

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QUEEN You will stop.

Runner flattens himself against a wall.

QUEEN There. Good. Now. Look at us.

He points the camera toward his face, but averts his eyes.

QUEEN Look at us.

He looks into the lens.

QUEEN Thank you.

Beat.

QUEEN You will return home now.

He shakes his head—

QUEEN You will return. You will rest. You will recover.

He leans over, catching his breath.

QUEEN Don't turn away. Let us see you.

He straightens, repositions the device.

QUEEN Yes. Now. Speak with us.

He shakes his head.

QUEEN You shall you will you must. Stahhh, badda-baddah...

The runner barely mumbles the chant.

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QUEEN Stahhh, badda-badda, stahhh. Cheen-ah-reen-tee, cheen-ah-rone-tee. Tim-timmer, time.

RUNNER Stahhh, badda-badda, stahhh. Cheen-ah-reen-tee, cheen-ah-rone-tee. . .

He trails off. . .

QUEEN Finish. You must.

A painful beat. Then, a whisper:

RUNNER Tim-timmer. . .

QUEEN And?

RUNNER Time.

At this, Runner collapses. He lies on the ground, curls onto his side, holding his device in front of his face.

QUEEN Very good. Now wait. Help will come. Return, Rest, Recover. We await you.

ZZZttt. —the Queen is gone. Runner's sweaty face fills the screen. He mutters:

RUNNER Stah. . . baddah-baddah. . . Tim-timmer. . . Return, Rest. Re. . .

His eyes flutter closed.

End

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HERE COMES THE SUN

Alison Tatlock

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Here Comes the Sun was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Irwin Appel.

Cast: LAURAL……….……………………………………………………………………………………………Annie Torsiglieri RICARDO………….………………………………………………………………………………………Michael Bernard STEVEN………….……………………………………………………………………………………………………Jeff Mills DAN……………………………………………………………………………..…………………………………Daniel Stein DINA……………………………………………………………………………………………………………Jenna Scanlon DARRY………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Brian Harwell EVIE……………………….……………………………………………………..…………………Catherine Ballantyne MYLIE……………………………………………………………………………………………………………Hailey Turner TEDDY……………………………………………………………………………………………………Johnathan Buhrer

When the shelter-in-place first took effect, I was moved, delighted, and sometimes irritated by the many earnest and uplifting musical collaborations shared around the globe via Zoom. What if my own well-meaning, talented, complicated circle came together to attempt such a heartfelt project? Here Comes the Sun offers one answer to that early quarantine question. -Alison Tatlock

Rob Golenberg Silver Lining Entertainment [email protected] 310-566-3684

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HERE COMES THE SUN

By Alison Tatlock

Characters: LAURAL, 40s-50s RICARDO, 40s-50s STEVEN, 30s-50s DAN, older male DINA, female, 30s-50s DARRY, any gender, 30s-50s TEDDY & MYLA, teenaged twins ROBIN, any gender, 30s-50s EVIE, female, any age

A dark screen. Silence. Then. . . one square pops to life with a woman’s face. She stares into the camera with a knowing smile. Her lips part, and she starts to sing, a cappella. Her voice is wonderful.

LAURAL Little darlin', it's been a long, cold, lonely winter/Little darlin', it feels like years since it's been here . . .

A second square pops to life featuring a man playing a ukulele Laural stops singing—as Ricardo takes over:

RICARDO Here comes the sun/Here comes the sun

A third square pops on: Steven sits at a piano. He takes over for Ricardo:

STEVEN And I say, It's all right . . .

A fourth square appears. It's dark. It says the word: DAN. But no face appears. The others wait, deer in headlights. Silence. Then:

DAN’S VOICE Hello? (beat) I'm having technical difficulties.

Laural looks into the camera, miffed.

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LAURAL Really? We've been through this—

STEVEN You have to press "start video”—

DAN’S VOICE I did!

RICARDO No, you didn’t—

DAN'S VOICE Yes I di—!

Dan's face pops to life on the screen.

DAN Sorry.

LAURAL Should we start again?

A fifth square pops on. A couple appears, singing:

DINA/DARRY Sun, sun, sun . . .here it comes!

Dina realizes no one else is singing.

DINA What's happening?

DARRY Sun, sun, sun—

Loud giggles. Then a sixth frame opens. Two teenagers appear—upside down. They sing poorly, through laughter:

TEDDY/MYLA Sun, sun, sun, sun, sun . . .

TEDDY That's too many suns—

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MYLA Here they come!

TEDDY You're high.

MYLA Shut up—

TEDDY (To camera) She is.

MYLA You're dead.

They tussle, still upside down.

LAURAL Turn the computer around. Ricardo—?

Ricardo gets up and moves away from the screen. Chaos as the twins push/ pull their laptop. Ricardo shouts:

RICARDO Cut it out!

LAURAL Guys, come on.

The twins' frame goes dark.

DAN Shall we call it a night?

Dina starts to sing "Happy Birthday”:

DINA Happy Birthday to you . . .

STEVEN She is gonna love this.

He chimes in on the piano, singing with her:

STEVEN Happy Birthday, to you . . .

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LAURAL You guys, no.

They stop singing/playing.

LAURAL It needs to be one at a time, that's the whole point.

A baby cries in the background of Steven's frame. He turns away from camera:

STEVEN Are you getting her?

Off-camera, Robin (Steven's partner) answers:

ROBIN (OFF STAGE) Yes! Whattya think? (to the baby) Hi, sweet girl . . .

The baby continues to cry. Steven gets up.

LAURAL Can you two—

DINA I can't hear—

DARRY It's the baby—

DINA I know, who else would be crying?

DAN Me. Any second.

DINA Maybe we should take a break?

DARRY (Calling to Steven) You need to mute.

The baby stops crying. Steven turns to the camera.

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STEVEN You're welcome.

Dina takes a large sip of wine.

LAURAL Really? You're drinking?

DINA Lighten up.

Darry widens his eyes, mouths the words "help me." Dina elbows him— dropping her wine glass, which shatters.

DINA Shit!

DARRY Jesus—

They lean down out of frame to clean it up.

DARRY Careful!

DINA Ouch!

DARRY Ohmygod she cut herself.

LAURAL What?!

Dina holds a napkin over her finger.

DINA It's fine, it's nothing.

DARRY We have to go—

Dina and Darry disappear. Ricardo reappears.

RICARDO The kids are a "no."

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LAURAL Let me talk to them.

DAN Our numbers have diminished.

Laural looks down, texting.

RICARDO What are you doing?

LAURAL Texting them.

A new window opens. Evie appears.

EVIE Am I late?

The others shout:

ALL Yes!

EVIE You told me 2!

LAURAL PST! PST!

DAN (Under his breath) PTSD.

RICARDO Let's just all say "Happy Birthday" at the same time.

LAURAL Can someone check in with Dina?

DAN Please record.

RICARDO 1 . . . 2 . . . 3:

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ALL (Except Laural) HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

They clap. Laural stares into space, miserable.

RICARDO Did you record?

LAURAL No.

RICARDO Should we go again?

ALL (Except Ricardo) No!

The twins pop back on, right-side up—but wearing random, theatrical (not medical) masks. It's a little creepy. They chant:

TEDDY/MYLA Here—comes—the—sun. Here—comes—the—

LAURAL Forget it, guys.

MYLA We miss you, mom.

TEDDY Yeah. Don't feel bad.

Laural shakes her head, fighting tears.

RICARDO C'mon . . .

LAURAL It's easier for you, you're with them.

RICARDO It just worked out that way. If it was your week, they'd be with you.

LAURAL Right. My week.

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Awkward silence. The others try to rally an upbeat goodbye.

DAN We love you, Laural. Say "hi" for me.

EVIE Love you, Chicken! Say "hi" for me too.

LAURAL Bye, everyone. Thanks for trying. I'll figure something out.

RICARDO I'll call you later.

MYLA/TEDDY Bye, mom.

They wave. One by one, the squares go dark. Laural looks into the camera.

LAURAL Okay.

She clears her voice, presses "record."

LAURAL Here comes the sun . . .

She stops, annoyed by her emotion. Collects herself. Presses record.

LAURAL Here comes the sun Here comes the sun And I say, it's all right . . . (beat) Happy Birthday. (beat)

Everyone says "hi." We/I love you. She smiles into the camera. Then stops the recording. Her smile fades. She signs off. Her face freezes . . . and then the screen goes black.

END

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FIRST DATE

Annie Torsiglieri

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First Date was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Annie Torsiglieri.

Cast: EDWINA……………………………………………………………………………………………………………Ryan Hollon

Annie Torsiglieri has been seen on Broadway in Top Girls, Parade, Blood Brothers, and Miss Saigon, as well as in the national tour of Les Misérables as Fantine. She is the writer/performer of “A” Train, an award-winning solo play about her family’s journey in the world of autism (Best Production: United Solo Festival 2017, Best Encore: United Solo Festival, 2018). Annie is a professor in the Department of Theater and Dance at UCSB. She is a graduate of Princeton University and The Juilliard School. https://theaterdance.ucsb.edu/people/anne-torsiglieri

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FIRST DATE

By Annie Torsiglieri

Character: EDWINA

Edwina has done her best to create the intimacy and romance of a cute café, including mood lighting and wine.

Mid “zoom” date. Headphones on, so we do not hear her date’s replies.

This must be played with absolute truth. It is a play about loneliness.

EDWINA (Toasting) To you!

What are the odds?! No seriously, okay. . . if you like were gonna figure it out with true numbers and things. You like water without ice, I like water without ice. You like Animal Planet, I like Animal Planet. We both watch Nick at Nite. . . we BOTH like the old Darren.

I never dreamed we’d have so much in common. …………… Susie never mentioned you were so quiet! I mean I love. . . quietness. . . …………… Susie said, “I promise you’ll love him—he’s so cute and smart. . .” but she never mentioned quiet! …………… “Is this thing on?” …………… What do you do again George? . . . Oh, right. That’s right. That must be interesting.

My dentist is an accountant. …………… Do they let you use a calculator or do you have to do it all in your head? . . . Oh, well I’m sure that makes a big difference. Yeah, because, you know, why not? I mean this isn’t high school right? It’s not a test! . . . (DO they test you? . . . right, right.) …………… Do you love what you do?

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…………… I love what I do. MOST of the time. I mean well I love it but I hate it too.

What I love is that I can use myself . . . my image and my, you know, my face and my body, my HAIR (of course. . . yeah, it gets me a lot of work. It does.) I can really use my whole Persona, really to, you know, get behind products that I believe in. I mean you can see it. You can see it in my eyes. When I really believe in a product. . . Did you see my Puppy Chow spot? Right. . . yeah well it was mostly in the Midwest. . . But if you saw that you’d know. I mean how do you lie about something like that? You can’t. You can’t. It can’t be done. (Well SOME people can but. . .) I mean I LOVE dogs. Dogs are like people. Or like Tuna. . . They play. They use tools. They’re VIABLE and. . . (Did you read about that dog that helps that guy with no arms fly a plane?) I mean, you see what I’m saying then. The COURAGE.

But so, so how could I ever look into that camera and say to those dogs in this country (or Europe. . . I think they maybe show it there too) how could I say to those dogs that they should just run right out and buy Puppy Chow!!!!!. . . if I didn’t really BELIEVE it’s a really good product for them to eat. (It’s actually pretty delicious actually.) (Crunchy and just a lliiiiiittle bit salty.)

And then, off his look:

I mean. . . for DOG food.

Anyway, that sincereness comes through in my persona it really does (let me tell you.) I just have too much respect for the power of my persona to use it in any kind of lieful way. THAT’S why, (she tries to calm herself down, but it is difficult) that’s why I got so mad about the whole tampax thing. You know? I mean, I don’t know if you’re at all aware of the whole tampax controversy. (It’s not just tampax either let me tell you something. No. That’s really just the speck of the iceberg.) But it almost got me blacklisted. Really! (You know what that means don’t you? Yeah, it’s a whole communist thing.) Anyway, I stood up for what I believed in on that issue let me tell you. . . and with all the tears, with all the betrayal, the outrage, I’ll tell you what. . . I would do it again tomorrow if I had to. I would and that’s not just hero-ness talking. Have you SEEN those tampax commercials?! I mean, BLUE INK? You know?! Who do they think we are, stupid? I mean I’m a woman, right, and I think I know a thing or two about woman-ness and those things. So when you try and sell me a line about blue ink, coming out of my persona, I mean. . . my persona has NEVER emitted blue ink let me tell you, and neither I might add have any of my friends’, (Oh yeah, don’t think I didn’t ask around) and frankly, really quite frankly, if they think that I can look into that camera with any kind of honesty or integrity while I’m dousing this tampax with blue ink, then they understand nothing about the power of my persona. They’ll see the lie, do you see? In my eyes! In my hands! AND a few, a few really sheltered ones are gonna wonder, “Wait a minute! What’s wrong with ME? Mine doesn’t come

FOR AUTHORIZED DIGITAL USE ONLY 314 of 388 out blue!” What kind of scars do you think THAT’s gonna cause?! . . . Exactly! So I stood up for what I believed in on this particular (very personal I might add) issue, and it almost cost me my career. . . I can’t even really talk about it.

Yeah it was really brutal.

I don’t know if you run into this kind of political stuff in your thingy. . . does it get really oogly boogly that way for you too? . . . ‘cause I mean it’s just been really eye- opening for me. . . I mean I started out so naïve and all happy, and now it’s just like I can’t even believe the media anymore. I mean and if you can’t believe what they tell you on tv?! I mean where are we. . . Russia? Did you read War and Peace? Okay! . . . Like okay for example take like an image, you know like an American icon. . . let’s say. . . the Snuggle Bear. . . (Oh I’m a bear I’m so cute) Or. Am. I. You THINK the Snuggle bear is cute. . . and that’s just the way they want it too. It’s not even a real bear. . . no, I know! . . . It’s “stuffed,” I saw it! . . . Can we say MAR-KET-ING?! HELLO!? There ain’t no “bear” coming over to help you do your laundry. I don’t care how cute he is in the commercial. Oh no. It’s just you and your washer (and maybe a yogurt) and let me tell you, it can be a damned lonely business. Oh yes it can. . . (And I’ve washed clothes on television.)

So I talked to my agent, yes, I called him up the other day. . . and I said to him, “Tttch. . . I don’t know about you Raphael. . . but I’m tired of being just an image. Now? . . . I wanna do the voices too. . .” Simultaneously. I’m ready. I mean not when I started out, no, God no, I had so much to learn. . . (and you don’t want to put that kind of power in the wrong hands.) But. . . it’s been four years and for the past two or three I’ve started to think, “Hey, I could really do this.” I mean I’m talking right now aren’t I? Talking and moving, talking and moving. . . oooooo. . . how hard could it be? (?)

So that feels good. ………………….

. . . I was just kidding before about the dog food.

…………………

You don’t talk much do you?

I mean. . . what I mean is, I don’t have to talk. . . I can be whoever. I can be whoever you want. . . .

OH! Do you have to go?

I’m sorry. . . .

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What I mean is, hooo. . . I just, I don’t know, I know this is our first, you know, and everything but I just. . . I just unfold like a flower around you. I don’t know, is this too. . . ? (Cause Susie said you were really deep.) It’s just. . . I just wanna share my pain or my whatever with you. . . . God, it’s crazy. It’s like I know you but I don’t really know you. I KNOW you. I know YOU. And I’m. . . I’m drawn to you ………………… “No one knows why I open and close. All I know is that I do. Open and close. No one, not even the moon, has such small hands.”

Edna St. Vincent Millay.

She took her own life.

(I wrote my dissertation on her.)

(Well, I never. . . finished it.)

I don’t know it’s crazy. It’s crazy. I’M crazy. I’m “CRAZY”. But I think I. . . . I. . . do you eat meat? . . . Well, you work with numbers so. . . (Right? Right. Yeah I felt that about you.) (Numbers). . . . YOUUU are the spider, I am. The Web. (no) I am the fly. (no) You are the web. . . . I am the spider. . . ???

I can’t wait, George. I can’t WAIT till we can meet in person.

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THE SAFEST SPACE

Annie Torsiglieri

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The Safest Space was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Annie Torsiglieri.

Cast: MILO…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Lindsay Ray BOCK……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Harry Davis

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THE SAFEST SPACE

By Annie Torsiglieri

Characters: MILO BOCK

Each space is spare but speciﬁc. A tough, bombed out post-apocalyptic world. Bock and Milo can be played by actors of any gender.

Pace is key.

Bock’s face appears. The screen glitches.

BOCK Knock, knock. . .

A pause. Milo’s face appears, bad connection.

MILO Did you ﬁx it? Is it ﬁxed? Bock?

BOCK Knock, knock. . .

MILO First tell me, tell me if it’s ﬁxed.

BOCK It’s. . .

MILO Fixed?

BOCK It’s. . .

MILO Fixed?

BOCK It’s. . .

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MILO Fixed?!!

BOCK Why do you keep asking if it’s fuckin’ ﬁxed when you know I don’t have the parts to fuckin’ ﬁx it?!!!! A pause. Knock, knock. . .

MILO You don’t have the parts to ﬁx it?

BOCK I don’t have the parts to ﬁx it. . .

MILO You don’t have the parts to ﬁx it?

BOCK I don’t have the parts to ﬁx it.

MILO Oh. . . . I kept thinking. . . A pause. Well then.

Milo chews their cuticle thoughtfully.

MILO I thought Dave got you the parts.

BOCK No.

MILO No?

BOCK No.

MILO No?

BOCK No! No! Dave did not give me the parts.

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……

MILO Okay. A sigh. Okay. Jeez. . . . You don’t need to jump down my throat.

BOCK Dave has stopped delivering parts. He’s out of the parts-delivering racket.

MILO Out of the parts delivering. . . ???

BOCK Racket. He’s out of it.

MILO Oh. I had no idea.

BOCK And he was the last one. A pause. The enormity of that hits them. The very last one.

MILO Well. . . There’s got to be. . .

BOCK Nope.

MILO Not even. . . ?

BOCK Gone.

MILO Phil from. . . ?

BOCK Dead.

MILO Angie.

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BOCK Escaped to Canada.

A shocked pause.

MILO That’s so. . .

BOCK I know.

……

MILO How did she get past the—

BOCK No idea. (A stunned silence. Then, a joke? Or is it?) Decoy organ deliveries?

……

BOCK Too soon?

MILO Dude.

……

MILO So without the parts. . .

BOCK . . . we can’t. . .

MILO . . . without them????????????

BOCK No. With meaning. No.

……

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MILO But there’s got to be another way.

BOCK What the hell are you talking about?

MILO I’m talking about the fact that there’s got to be another way.

BOCK We’ve been over this./We’ve been fucking over this. . . .

MILO So. . . we can’t get the parts. So what? There’s got to be another way to jerry-rig the system to, you know McGyver it with some duck tape and. . .

BOCK Without the parts/ we can’t. . .

MILO A little WD-40 and some band-aids. . .

BOCK Without the parts/ we can’t. . .

MILO There’s still a crate of conducing agent in the shed from when we bartered with the O’Hallorens. Maybe we can sneak it into the Trade-Mart and. . .

BOCK No. I only have enough Creddits for this. For Today. For these next few minutes. And then I’m done. Confessing the news. The Trade-Mart has been purged. Wiped clean. Probably for the last time.

MILO But. . .

BOCK I got their outgoing last night. It was. . . (Bock swallows.) The fuckers nailed them. Every last one. Even Ruth. …… Their screams. Shit it was. . .

MILO . . . Ruth?

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MILO (cont’d) …… So. . .

BOCK . . . so. . . Knock, knock. . .

MILO So.

BOCK Knock, knock!!

……

MILO So. . . when you say “done.” ??? (When you say:) You’re “done”. . . You don’t mean?. . . ?

BOCK I do. That’s exactly what I mean. Done.

……

MILO . . . right but you don’t mean. . .

BOCK No more Creddits. No more parts. Out of time for. . . / (all of this. . .)

MILO Okay.

BOCK Out of time, period.

MILO Okay.

BOCK Done.

MILO Okay. / Okay. I get it. Okay. You don’t have to. . . you don’t have to. . . . Let’s not. . .

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BOCK (Trying to calm Milo down) Ssshh Milo. Listen, listen. It’s okay. It’s gonna be. . . Listen!

……

BOCK (Calming Milo) Let’s go through the checklist.

MILO The checklist.

BOCK Yeah, yeah that’s right. If you remember the checklist you’ll be ﬁne. Let’s go through it. . . .

MILO The checklist. I can’t. . . I. . . maybe later. . .

BOCK Now, Milo. It’s got to be now. There is no later. . . . One: . . . c’mon, One:

MILO (A memorized list) “Perimeters. Find em, hold em, keep em.”

BOCK “Perimeters. Find em, hold em, keep em.” Good. . . Two:

MILO Two. “Sustenance.”

BOCK Go on. . . .

MILO “Sustenance. Waste not. Neither drop nor bite.”

BOCK That’s right. . . and???

MILO Three. . . . Three. . . . Three. . .

BOCK “Hold a—”

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MILO “Hold a space.” . . . “Hold a space in your space. Your safest space. . . .” “Your treasure is safest within.”

BOCK “Your treasure is safest within.”

……………………………

BOCK Knock, Knock.

MILO I never appreciated your knock knock jokes.

BOCK Knock, Knock.

MILO It was like, every day, every day with the stupid knock knock jokes.

BOCK Knock, knock!!

MILO Yeah, yeah, “orange who” I get it, or “interrupting cow who”. . .

BOCK Milo!

MILO But I’ll miss them Bock. I’ll miss them more than I can say. . .

BOCK So Knock, Knock!

MILO And I’ll miss your bossy ways, and your checklist drills and your. . .

A silence.

BOCK (I know) Milo.

A smile between them. They both touch the screen with their ﬁngertips.

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BOCK Knock, knock dear Milo.

A sigh.

MILO Who’s there dear Bock. . . .

BOCK Treasure.

A moment between them.

MILO Treasure who?

A deep and true smile between them.

MILO Treasure who? . . .

Bock’s screen glitches and then goes dead.

MILO Treasure who? . . . A realization. Treasure who.

……

The End

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2084

John Walch

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2084 was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Iris Skeen.

Cast: CUSTOMER…………………………………………………………………………………………………………Ivana Cruz CUSTOMER SERVICE AGENT………………………………………………………………………Shekinah Bryant

I wrote this play because a trusted and long-time collaborator and colleague asked me to help by writing a play. . . and that’s a good reason to send a writer to their chair. The impulse/prompt that I started the play with was simply: “Help.” It evolved from there to: “How do we seek help from others, especially when the power dynamic is skewed to those whom we are asking?” This took me to customer service agents on the lighter side and Orwell on the more dystopian side, and got me thinking about what happens when those who work within systems designed ostensibly to help those in need—the vulnerable and cursed—are really operating to consolidate their own authority. -John Walch

John Walch’s plays have been produced, commissioned, and developed nationally at theaters such as Center Theatre Group, Actors Theatre of Louisville, The Public Theater, Manhattan Theatre Club, Alabama Shakespeare Festival, Kitchen Dog, Edinburgh Fringe Fest, Theatre at Boston Court, and off-Broadway at Urban Stages. John is a proud alum of New Dramatists in NYC, and currently heads the M.F.A. Playwriting Program at University of Arkansas.

Representation: Author Contact: Susan Gurman John Walch The Susan Gurman Agency c/o New Dramatists 14 Penn Plaza, Suite 1703 424 W. 44th St. New York, NY 10122 NYC, NY 10036 212.749.4618 [email protected]

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2084

By John Walch

“In the side wall, within easy reach of Winston's arm, [there was] a large oblong slit protected by a wire grating. This. . . was for the disposal of waste paper. For some reason they were nicknamed memory holes. When one knew that any document was due for destruction. . . it was an automatic action to lift the flap of the nearest memory hole and drop it in, whereupon it would be whirled away on a current of warm air to the enormous furnaces which were hidden somewhere in the recesses of the building.” —George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty-Four

Characters: CUSTOMER: Female or male. Forever 21, until they aren’t. Wanted to be a stand-up comedian. CUSTOMER SERVICE AGENT: Male or female. A real person, any age.

Place: A Zoom session connecting the Customer’s childhood bedroom/bunker to a Zoom Customer Service Agent in their own sparse work bunker.

Time: 2084

Scene: A Zoom video session. Customer, 21 years-old, has contacted Zoom Customer Service and awaits the Agent. The background behind the Customer might have some sort of poster of an iconic stand-up comedian from circa 2020—Sarah Silverman, John Mulaney, Chris Rock. Whatever the poster is, it should be the genuine choice of the performer of a favorite comedian. Or maybe the poster is too much—a blank wall works as well.

CUSTOMER Please, please. . . help me, I’m dying.

CS AGENT (Popping enthusiastically on screen) Hello, (insert name of performer), thank you for being a trusted and valued member of the Zoom community. I am your trusted Customer Service Agent responding to your complaint. For security purposes you are on a recorded line. How may I assist you today?

CUSTOMER Are you a real person?

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CS AGENT Of course, Zoom is all about connecting people, all of our Customer Service Agent’s are just like you.

CUSTOMER Then please, this time, please help me.

CS AGENT Yes, I see you are inquiring about case #9207jvlol39 first opened April 6, 2020 and see you have reopened this case many, many, many times over the years—

CUSTOMER This time. This time is my last shot—I’m dying.

CS AGENT You look perfectly heathy to me.

CUSTOMER I’m 84-years old and dying.

CS AGENT 84? Hmmm. Turn to your left—

CUSTOMER What, why?

Customer complies, is there a sound effect?

CS AGENT Please just turn to your left. Good. Now turn to your right. Good. You claim you are 84?

CUSTOMER Yes, yes—

CS AGENT My facial profiling sequencer tells a different story; you have the bone-structure and tissue-density of a 21-year old—a picture of health. Congratulations.

CUSTOMER It’s because of the curse.

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CS AGENT Oh, I see: the curse?

CUSTOMER Yes, yes, the curse, I’m forever doomed to live as a 21-year-old in my childhood bedroom.

CS AGENT Oh, I see: doomed?

CUSTOMER Yes, doomed by Zoom.

CS AGENT Doomed by Zoom. That’s very catchy, clever.

CUSTOMER Please, I’m telling you, I’m cursed to live as my 21-year-old idiot self, because of what I did to my mom.

CS AGENT Oh, I see: your mom. This gets better and better.

CUSTOMER Please, I caused my mom’s death, all for a bad joke I recorded on Zoom—

CS AGENT Yes, I have all the history and details in the case file from over the years: (scanning the details)

“. . . Spring 2020. . . classes canceled . . . moved back in with mother in the suburbs . . . wanting so bad to be different . . . dreams of being a stand-up comic. . . ”

CUSTOMER So bad.

CS AGENT “. . . March 2020. . . 21st Birthday. . . Beware the Ides of March. . . Global pandemic . . . Amateur comedy night at popular bar . . . knew you shouldn’t go—”

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CUSTOMER I know, I know—

CS AGENT “. . . But the wanting was so bad”

CUSTOMER So bad.

CS AGENT “. . . Crowded club. . . drinks. . . laughter. . . mini birthday cupcakes for all my friends! . . . Record 2-minute set on Zoom. . . share it out. . . goes viral . . . Go home. . . go viral on mom...... Never grow old. . . . Never become comic. . . . Stuck as 21-year-old self. . . . Doom by Zoom. . . .” That is quite a tale.

CUSTOMER Not a tale—truth.

CS AGENT Yes, I see. You have been petitioning Zoom to incinerate the master source file in the memory hole for decades now.

CUSTOMER Please. . . . I just want it gone, erased, forever.

CS AGENT Please bring your right hand to the screen. (Customer complies) Good. Now open it.

Customer does so, there’s now a pill in the Customer’s palm.

CUSTOMER What’s this?

CS AGENT I just Zoomed you an anti-delusional sedative.

CUSTOMER I’m not crazy. I know your records show when I originally signed up, I’ve been through

FOR AUTHORIZED DIGITAL USE ONLY 333 of 388 this with you and your agents so many, many, many times before. Please, all I’m asking is you drop the source file in the memory hole.

CS AGENT You know that’s not possible for me to do. You know our policy: everything is recorded, logged, archived.

CUSTOMER Please, I’m 84-years old, and I really am dying, this is not what I want to be remembered for.

CS AGENT (Turning harder) You accepted our Terms and Conditions.

CUSTOMER I clicked a button when I was 21 years-old, told some stupid jokes, laughed with friends, ate mini-cupcakes, all because I just wanted, wanted so bad, so, so bad to connect, to feel alive.

CS AGENT “Desire-is-Dangerous”

CUSTOMER I know the slogan.

CS AGENT Not a slogan; our universal passcode required to unlock all individual account portals.

CUSTOMER I know the passcode.

CS AGENT Then repeat it for me. (Pause) While I wait, I can watch that original video. Shall I play if for you now?

CUSTOMER Desire-is-Dangerous.

CS AGENT Because?

CUSTOMER It causes things to spread.

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CS AGENT Please, use the Zoom platform’s approved metaphor.

CUSTOMER “Wanting is the flame; desire is the wind that spreads it.”

CS AGENT Zoom knows this. Which is why Zoom was an industry leader in the purging of emoticons and strictly banning their use. Which is why, as a global leader on a platform that allows for us all to connect safely and cheerfully, Zoom quickly realized the danger that unchecked spread could have and took heroic measures to lock-down and aggressively enforce our security policies. We keep everyone safe—separated but together. And we are proud our heroic strict measures have prevented another—

CUSTOMER You’re not going to drop my file in the memory hole, are you?

CS AGENT You know I cannot complete that request; Zoom records everything. (Beat) But I am curious. . . what was the joke?

CUSTOMER It was stupid, I told you.

CS AGENT It couldn’t haven’t been that stupid to be shared over. . . wow that is a lot of shares over the years. Now I really want to see this joke, shall we watch it together?

CUSTOMER No, please.

CS AGENT Come on, you are 84, one last laugh before the big screen in the sky goes dark forever?

CUSTOMER You’re going to torture me with your chirpy cheer like all the other agents before you?

CS AGENT How is a joke, torture?

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CUSTOMER It wasn’t just one joke; it was a mini-routine—a comic little riff I worked up.

CS AGENT Well, let’s watch this comic little riff, it’s only a minute 56 seconds. Surely you can take it for that long.

CUSTOMER No, please. Please! . . . It’s dangerous—awakens my desire all over again. I hate it, but it still does.

CS AGENT When I scanned you earlier, I noted you had not completely drained yourself of this desire. You say this is how we torture you. We say this is how we protect you from your own desire. Perhaps you can give me the highlights of this comic little riff? . . . Or, I could just play it, now.

CUSTOMER . . . I was making fun of my mom; how old people don’t understand technology. Like how she still has a landline so she can call someone if the electricity goes out, and I’m like: “Call who Mom? Nobody has landlines anymore.”

CS AGENT Making fun of old people and their confusion around technology is one of our most popular memes. But there must have been more to it than a landline joke?

CUSTOMER The core of the bit was how clueless she was and how I was afraid if she died, I would inherit her dog and cat. “She’s so clueless she named her dog Alexa and her cat Siri. Imagine that nightmare:” (audience, from a long time ago, chuckles) “Alexa! Stop licking your butthole!” (Customer mimicking Alexa voice.) “Here’s an exercise video I’ve found showing how to lick your butthole—shall I play it for you?” (audience laughter from a long time ago) “Hey Siri, here pussy, pussy.” (audience laughter from a long time ago. Siri voice:) “I’ve found an escort service near you; shall I order you one or two pussies?” (more audience laughter from a long time ago)

CUSTOMER (Continued) It went on like that, so stupid. Then she died. . . . Alone. She didn’t even have any pets.

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CS AGENT In my line of work, I see many, many stupid things, but it doesn’t curse them. Why you? Why has this made you: Doomed by Zoom?

CUSTOMER I don’t completely know, but two things going viral at once created some kind of phenomenological rift or, or a loop in my time-consciousness pattern.

CS AGENT You have thought a lot about this.

CUSTOMER I’m 84-years old, I’ve tried over the years to understand, but every year on my birthday, the Ides of March, I’m reset back to my 21-year-old stupid self, so. . . . It doesn’t matter, all that I actually know is that by the time I was up to 100 shares, my mom had died, I didn’t get to see her. . . . I didn’t get to hold her hand. . . . So, so stupid. Selfish.

CS AGENT Hey. . . . Hey. Hold out your left hand. Good. Now open it.

CUSTOMER (Opens hand, revealing another pill) More anti-delusionals?

CS AGENT No. While I can’t drop the source file in the memory hole for you, we have been beta testing our increasingly powerful Ultra-Desire Blockers. The first dose is powerful and will erase all memories attached to your distressed desire.

CUSTOMER What about my regret? Shame?

CS AGENT Self-loathing, yes, all of it, this is what we are testing for. Would you like to participate in our beta test?

CUSTOMER “Desire is dangerous.”

CS AGENT Yes, good. Thankfully, we have seen tremendous progress with the beta test which will make the Zoom ecosystem safer and safer. In the spirit of safety, would you like to proceed? (Customer nods affirmative and complies with instructions:)

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Good, let’s get you processed. First, turn to your left. Good. Now turn to your right. Good. Now turn center. Good. (Beat.) For privacy purposes, I am going to turn off the recorded line, and have you opt-in or opt-out to the Terms and Conditions. This is the only moment we do not record, you deciding to opt-in or opt-out of any and all of Zoom’s services and offerings. You are completely free to decide whether you want to enter into this agreement with Zoom. Do you understand? (Customer nods. Video of Customer goes out. All we see on screen is the Terms and Conditions.) Good. I have just turned off the recorded line and muted your feed. The beta test Terms and Conditions are now on your screen for review. Please take all the time you need to review, as you can see, they are extensive and—

A notification sound, an automated voice.

AUTOMATED VOICE (V.O.) Thank you, (name of performer), for agreeing to Zoom’s Terms and Conditions, you are now free to take the beta dose. When complete simply say: “done”.

CUSTOMER (Swallowing pill) Done.

AUTOMATED VOICE (V.O.) Reconnecting your feed with Zoom Customer Service.

CS AGENT Good. I am back and glad you trusted in Zoom.

Customer’s video restores. They are transformed and are now their 84 year- old self. If the poster mentioned in the beginning was used, it is now gone. The space is devoid of decoration, like a bunker or a bomb-shelter. Customer blinks blankly into the camera. Pause. Pause. Then:

CUSTOMER Hello?

CS AGENT Hello, (name of performer), thank you for being a trusted and valued member of the Zoom community, I am your trusted Customer Service Agent responding to your complaint. For security purposes you are on a recorded line. How may I assist you today?

CUSTOMER I— I don’t know?

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CS AGENT Are you experiencing any problems with the Zoom platform or any unpleasantness with the Zoom experience?

CUSTOMER No, it’s so helpful. So, so helpful keeping us all connected in these times.

CS AGENT I don’t get a lot of calls with compliments, so I thank you for being a trusted and valued member of the Zoom community since joining when you were. . . 21-years old. Do you remember?

CUSTOMER I’m 84, can’t remember what I had for breakfast, forget 21.

CS AGENT Forget 21, good. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

CUSTOMER Um. . . . Sure, while I got you. I’m so bored. . . any funny videos you might recommend?

CS AGENT That is a very frequently asked question. One second please, while I search our database and find the perfect match for you. . . . I’ve found something individually tailored to your Zoom profile and preferences, I’ve just Zoomed it to you.

A notification.

CUSTOMER Thank you, this looks great.

CS AGENT No, thank you for calling Zoom Customer Service we appreciate you as a trusted member of the global Zoom family. You can activate the video whenever you like—

The Customer activates the video. The Agent’s screen goes dark. The Customer remains blinking into the blank screen. Then Customer brightens. . . as audio begins playing, we can’t see the video, but the Customer does.

CUSTOMER (V.O.) Hey everybody! Great to see everyone out on my fricking 21st birthday! (Cheers from the crowd.)

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And, oh yeah, I sure needed a night out, college sent me home, back to the ‘burbs living with dear old mom. So, so sexy. . . I know. (The Customer viewing the video chuckles.) As I was coming here, Mom got all up in my grill: “Beware the Ides of March.” And I’m like: Mom, I’m officially 21: “Despair the Times that Parch!” Thank you, bartender, so, so much for this free birthday drink. (The Customer viewing the video chuckles.) The biggest thing this has taught me so far is how clueless my mom is with technology!

The Customer chuckles, the video they are watching freezes. The Customer taps on the screen trying to get it to play.

CUSTOMER (LIVE) Wait. Oh, come on! What happens next?

Then, the image of the Customer watching the video freezes.

End of Play.

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CORONA CHICKEN (PART ONE)

Cheryl L. West

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Corona Chicken (Part One) was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Katherine Hamilton.

Cast: PENELOPE……………………………………………………………………………………………………Jenna Scanlon

Pandemics inspire great fear, often followed by a type of hysteria that leads to unmitigated chaos. In such a climate we are all capable of inflicting great harm to ourselves and to each other. We are not ourselves. Sadly, our best self has transformed into the stranger that seeks only to tease us. -Cheryl L. West

Cheryl L. West’s plays have been produced in England, off-Broadway, on Broadway, and in numerous regional theaters around the country. She has written TV and film projects at Disney, Paramount, MTV Films, Showtime, TNT, HBO, CBS, and BET. Currently, she is working on commissions for Oregon Shakespeare Festival, Seattle Rep, and the Goodman Theatre.

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CORONA CHICKEN (PART ONE)

By Cheryl L. West

Character: PENELOPE

Penelope struggles in with a rolling cart teeming with groceries, notably a multi-roll toilet paper pack and, toward the bottom, a whole chicken wrapped in a plastic meat bag. She's well dressed in suburban chic—tasteful jewelry, the hair just so. But she's a bit off kilter—the labored breath, the arm-length rubber gloves, the face mask askew and tangled in her string of pearls. Or perhaps it's her profuse sweating that signals she's a woman in jeopardy. Once safely inside, Penelope quickly flips the lock, positions her back as a human barricade. She wills her breath to slow. Deep breaths. Finally, in control, she and her rolling cart move in. She looks around, then suddenly stands at attention, recites the Girl Scout three-finger motto.

PENELOPE "On my honor, I will try: To serve God and my country, to help people at all times, and to live by. . . .” She smiles solicitously at us. "Penelope, darling, you're such a Girl Scout.” That's what they'd say. "So unwavering. . .” That's me. A good girl.

I ask you, what are we without the exchange of goodness and kindness? Forgiveness and hope? I tell my kids that all the time. I have two. . . wonderful, well-behaved, exceptional children.

Right now they're supposed to be at the park with the nanny. Actually, she's really just a babysitter. I call her the nanny so I can keep step with the other mannequin wives around here. I keep telling my husband that I'm the best person to care for our children. I'm their greatest example. . . I set the standard. She starts to take out groceries from her cart, wiping them down as she goes. So happy to see name-brand toilet paper again. . . . With the virus, everything is in such short supply. Still no wipes but I'm bleaching like a fiend. Oh my. . . I almost forgot. She removes her gloves, squirts hand sanitizer, cleans her hands thoroughly. I have sanitizer in every room, no excuses. Robust hygiene, that's the key to protecting your family. An alarm goes off somewhere. I set alarms for everything now. Her watch beeps. She looks at her watch. Shows us her Fitbit or Apple watch.

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The alarms help. They insert order, something I can count on. See, almost to my step goal. . . Smiles, then anxiously looks around. The nanny should be returning with the kids soon. The husband, he's an auto mechanic. . . owns his own failing business. Not quite an 'essential' worker but what the hell, I'm a supportive wife who allows him his lies like I suppose he allows me mine. I love Dan but. . . well. . . I shouldn't say this but okay, I just wish his hands were cleaner. . . . There I said it. His hands, both of ‘em, always have some speck of dirt somewhere, a little grime under the nails or a little dirt burrowed in the knuckles. But for some reason, he doesn't seem to care. So I remind him. A lot.

"Did you wash your hands, honey? Please, wash your hands, sweetie."

I'm not trying to annoy him, but I have to look out for our kids. Hello! There's a deadly virus killing people. And let's face it, dirty hands could've been the beginning and now the reason. Beat. Whenever there's a crisis in this country, everyone chases after hero stories, anything that generates hope. But what if you don't feel particularly heroic or productive or even charitable? I told Dan, I'm sorry but this virus has not created a better person in me. His response. . .

"The virus is not just happening to you, Penelope. We're all suffering but leave it to you to make everything worse."

What an idiot. Sometimes I feel like taking one of his precious hunting rifles and blowing his damn head off. Beat. She takes out a bottle of wine from the cart, then picks up the "chicken" bag. Smiles sheepishly at us. But I keep trying. I even planned to make us a good healthy dinner. Dan loves chicken. He must have been one in another life. And after the phone fight we had this morning, I'm thinking this beautiful, organic chicken might keep us out of divorce court.

It was just sitting on top of her basket. She, the mother, was distracted, three of her little delinquents were crawling in and out of her van like they'd been shot up with sugar, and she's screaming at them to watch out for cars since everyone backs out the parking lot without looking. Plus, these days, with the virus and all, we're all so much more distracted. At the same time she's trying to change her toddler’s diaper. . . . He was a little cutie. . . a tad snotty looking, though. Oh, no, I hope he wasn't sick. Suddenly, furiously scrubs the chicken bag as. . . The world is so damn chaotic. It worries me. No, it enrages me. I keep telling Dan I'm not like everyone else. How I am to act normal when I'm in an abnormal circumstance?

But this woman, I could tell she was not a regular. Our grocery store is upscale. She wasn't. I first passed her in the cookie/cracker aisle trying to keep that little herd of

FOR AUTHORIZED DIGITAL USE ONLY 344 of 388 four in check. Don't you hate it when people feed their kids straight from the store shelf? They just rip open a bag of crackers or cookies and give it to their kids to eat on the spot. No hand washing. No prayer first, I'm sure she paid for the Cheez-Its later but. . .

Well, anyway I had bigger problems. There was no chicken in the meat department. Only two packs of thighs left. My husband doesn't eat thighs.

So I'm standing there thinking how I'm going to save my marriage and stay the six feet social distance away from some Botox-chick that's intentionally rolling her cart over my right foot. I'm starting to tear up a little. . . not enough to ruin my make-up but enough to know that one more minute staring at two packs of chicken thighs and I'll be featured on the five o'clock news: “raging woman spreads Covid virus—floods Carini's meat cooler with her tears." She suddenly takes the chicken and pitches it in the garbage. There. Out of sight, out of mind. I'm not particularly religious but I think God is truly testing all of us. The news keeps reminding us that we're all in this together. Really? You think? So when is someone going to take half this anxiety? It's a nightmare, an endless nightmare. She squirts more hand sanitizer. Where was I? Oh, I was rolling my groceries out to the car. Dreading how Dan, my never-smiling Dan, is going to flick his dirty nails against his dinner plate, disappointed once again by a meal of vegetarian spaghetti. And me being the professional apologizer. . . will be bending over backwards, singing once again that song of sorry. . . so sorry.

But then I happen to pass her in the parking lot loading up her mini-van with enough food to feed an army, her little hoodlum herd crawling in out of the van like it's some newly discovered playground. Her car radio blaring the news.

And then I see it, the chicken, and better yet it sees me. I mean a woman like that probably has more chicken at home. She has four kids for goodness sake. My children don't eat a lot. Clearly hers did. Little chubbies all of them. . . not that I care. . . how people raise their children. I thought maybe if I leave her a ten for the chicken. . . but wouldn't you know it, I only had a five in my purse and that seemed almost insulting. But yet. . .

I started to feel sorry for every bad thought I'd had about Miss Mini-Van. How could I think ill of her? Her chicken was going to save my marriage. I sent up a little prayer for her and then. . . then I took it. Just used my North Face jacket to snatch it up from her cart while she was still changing that shitty diaper.

I didn't run, more like race walked, to my car and just when I was putting the car in reverse, my husband takes that moment to call and tell me he wasn't coming home, that he and the nanny-sitter packed up the kids and they were all gone to stay with his sister, eight hundred miles away from me.

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"Now don't get hysterical, Penelope. The kids don't have school anyway. This'll be like an early vacation. You're stressing us all out."

In the background, my daughter was singing on repeat, "Nanny's a daisy/Mommie's crazy. . .”

And I'm screaming, “YOU TOLD MY KIDS I'M CRAZY?” He's still talking cool as a cucumber.

"Look, we'll see how things are between us after the virus."

“But that could be months,” I screamed. . . . He said that I needed help. "Of course I do, Dan. That's what family is for."

Then he capped it off with. . .

"I'm sorry but I don't recognize you anymore."

What? We've been married twelve years and you don't recognize me. . . ? Please, Dan, don't leave me. Dan, please. . . I’ll try harder. . .

But click, he hung up. I'm still screaming and hearing sirens. . . or maybe it was somebody else screaming. . . I realized the car was still going in reverse. One small mistake and your entire life does a flip flop. A beat. With sudden purpose. You know what? Maybe I should cook the chicken anyway. Retrieving the chicken from the garbage. Scrubbing the plastic again. Maybe I can share it with Mrs. Fortenberry down the street. She's in the risk group, but she moves that walker like an acrobat. Usually I avoid her because once she starts talking she never shuts up. Maybe tonight we can both make an exception. Clearly, this virus is a bit of an equalizer. I can be a good Girl Scout again. Together. Six feet apart, eating a little Corona-chicken. Just the two of us. Old and young practicing social distancing. What you wanna bet, she's lonely, too. Yes!

"On my honor, I will try. . .”

THE END

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CORONA CHICKEN (PART TWO)

Cheryl L. West

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Corona Chicken (Part Two) was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Katherine Hamilton.

Cast: GRACE…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….Roz Cornejo KAREN……………………………………………………………………………………………………….Carissa Stewart KIRK………………………………………………………………………………………………………Frances Domingos SAMANTHA……………….………………………………………………………………………………………Magan Tran

The aftermath. We attempt to repress or ignore grief in times like these, exhausted by its relentlessness. And yet ignoring grief simply allows it to become more potent, more volatile, more demanding. The virus has delivered us all to the mourner’s bench. There are new assaults, new losses on a daily basis—our jobs, our health, our loved ones. It seems so senseless and yet could it be an opportunity to reflect and reset our fractured souls and tenuous connections? -Cheryl L. West

Author's Agent: Bruce Ostler/Kate Bussert at Bret Adams Ltd., NY, NY

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CORONA CHICKEN (PART TWO)

By Cheryl L. West

Grace sits at her kitchen table holding up a five-dollar bill while sobbing. Nearby are three table settings with school supplies neatly stacked at each setting—pencils, workbooks, highlighters. The news drones on in the background—something about the growth of more Covid-19 cases and hotspots. Finally, she's spent. She gingerly folds the five-dollar bill, hides it in her bra. Blows her nose, wipes her face with a cool rag. . . puts on her eyeglasses, then generously squirts on some hand sanitizer.

GRACE (With exaggerated cheer) Kids. Come on. Time for home school. Kids?

Three children appear and take their seats. They are: Karen, 10 (determined); Kirk, 11 (sullen); Samantha, 8 (eager).

KIRK (Already registering his irritation) I thought we were. . .

SAMANTHA Grieving.

In exasperation, Karen and Kirk both hit at Samantha.

SAMANTHA Ouch! But that's what Dad said.

GRACE Samantha, sometimes your Dad doesn't choose his words carefully. The sooner we return to normal the better.

KAREN I agree, Mother. . . wholeheartedly.

GRACE Nice use of your vocabulary words, Karen.

SAMANTHA Mommy, I'm a wholehearted, too.

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GRACE Yes, you are sweetie! You're awfully quiet, Kirk.

He mutters something nasty under his breath.

GRACE Sit as far apart as you can.

KIRK That won't be hard.

Grace chooses to ignore the last comment. She hands them each a homemade book with handwritten titles. . .

SAMANTHA (Reading) "Samantha's Tales of Joy.” Yippee. My book is going to be happy!

KAREN (Reading) "Karen's Tales of Patience." Why couldn't I get the happy one?

SAMANTHA Because I'm always happy and you're always impatient.

KAREN But Mom, I've been working on being more patient.

GRACE And don't think I haven't noticed, Karen.

SAMANTHA Well, I haven’t. You're still so mean.

Karen sticks out her tongue at Samantha.

SAMANTHA Mommy, Karen stuck her tongue out at me.

GRACE That's enough you two. (Grace places an oversized Webster's dictionary in the middle of the table.) And here's your dictionary.

KAREN Why can't we look up words on the computer, like regular?

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GRACE Because we need to limit our screen time. Dictionaries were not always on-line you know.

SAMANTHA What's your book title say, Kirk?

Kirk doesn't respond.

GRACE Aren't you going to answer your sister?

KIRK We're all damned. . .

GRACE Kirk, watch your language.

SAMANTHA Oh-oh, is it time for recess?

KAREN Samantha, school just started.

GRACE We'll do a little writing first, then some math. For recess, maybe we'll go for a nature walk. . .

Samantha claps her hands giddily.

SAMANTHA Yes!

KAREN (Trying too hard to smile) That sounds so nice, mother. We appreciate you.

KIRK (Mocking KAREN) "So nice, we appreciate you, mother." Such a suck up.

GRACE Kirk! Oh, and I was thinking, maybe today's elective will be cooking.

KIRK If it's an elective that means I don't have to do it, right?

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GRACE Wrong.

KAREN Your eyes are a little redder today, Mom.

GRACE Just a little cold.

KIRK She's been crying, stupid.

KAREN Don't call me stupid. . .

GRACE Would you two stop? Please! And I have not been crying. This time of year, I have terrible allergies.

KIRK Yeah, right.

GRACE Let's shoot for a little maturity, Kirk.

KIRK Can we at least turn the news off?

GRACE (A little too sharply) No!

KIRK But it's distracting. It's not like they're telling us anything new.

GRACE That's not true. . . very smart minds are working to corral this virus and keep us all safe. . .

KIRK I thought parents were supposed to keep you safe.

The kids exchange apprehensive looks. A freighted beat.

KAREN Why don't you shut up, Kirk?

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GRACE Karen, don't tell your brother / to shut up.

KIRK (Overlapping, muttering under his breath) We're all going to die anyway.

GRACE What did you say?

KIRK Nothing.

GRACE No, Kirk, I want to know what you said.

KIRK No, you don't. (To his sisters) Remember, I tried to warn you. First Bertie, then one by one we’re all. . .

GRACE That's enough, Kirk.

KIRK If the virus doesn't get us, then. . .

GRACE I said that's ENOUGH! (Grace sets the timer.) I'll set the timer for ten minutes. Please start writing.

KIRK I'd rather draw.

GRACE I'd rather you write.

SAMANTHA Do we have to fill up all these sheets of paper?

GRACE Not all at once. Whatever inspires you based on what your book title is.

KIRK This school thing is so stupid.

GRACE Perhaps. But you're the student, thus you don't get to dictate. . .

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KIRK Neither do you. I have rights, constitutional rights. . .

GRACE Oh, okay, so write about that, your “constitutional” rights.

KIRK Why would I want to do that?

KAREN Kirk, why don't you just do it? Stop being such a butthead.

GRACE Unless you want to write the entire day, I suggest you get busy.

A beat. Karen and Samantha attack their writing with fervor. Grace looks over at her son. He draws something with an angry flourish, then pushes back from the table.

KIRK I'm done.

GRACE You can't be. You're not done until the alarm goes off.

KIRK I expressed myself. You made my title, "Kirk Speaks." So, I spoke.

Grace glances at his paper.

GRACE You drew a head. That is not writing. The prompt was to write sen-ten-ces.

KIRK (Mocking her) I know what a sen-ten-ce is.

GRACE Why are you being so obstinate? You think I like having to homeschool you? I have my own work. . .

KIRK Then don't do it.

GRACE School is still important. Routine is important. . .

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KIRK No, it's not.

GRACE Write, gotdammit.

KAREN Mom, you're cursing.

SAMANTHA I think we need recess. Recess is a time out.

KIRK You can't make me write.

GRACE I most certainly can.

SAMANTHA My teacher says recess helps reset your brain and your body. . .

GRACE Now, I'm going to count and when I get to three. . .

KIRK What?!

GRACE One. . . two. . .

KIRK You're not a teacher. Heck, lately you don't even act like a mother.

GRACE Why, you little. . . I said write. WRITE, gotdammit. Or I will make you write.

KIRK And that would be child abuse.

GRACE Boy, you haven't seen child abuse.

KIRK I hate you. We all hate you.

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SAMANTHA I don't hate Mommy. . .

KAREN No, I don't.

KIRK Karen, you know you. . .

KAREN Shut up, Kirk!

KIRK You shut up!

GRACE Both of you, shut up!

KIRK Why can't anybody tell the truth in this family?

SAMANTHA Time for recess. And reset. . .

KAREN You know I only said I hated Mommy because you said it first and I was upset about Bertie and everything. . .

Grace regroups.

GRACE Okay, in this family, we don't hate. How we get through this time will be a test of our character. Hard times makes for strong people. Right?

KAREN Right.

SAMANTHA Right!

GRACE We can give up and feel sorry for ourselves or we can take this time to reflect on. . . (Suddenly not sure what point she was making.) Well, Kirk mentioned the Constitution, well, we're creating another type of history. . .

Kirk furiously taps pen marks on his paper. . . Grace tries to ignore. . .

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GRACE . . . our family history. . . Boy, what in God's good name are you doing now?

SAMANTHA Kirk, do you need a hug?

KIRK We're not a family. Did you forget one of us is missing?

GRACE Shut up, Kirk.

SAMANTHA Eew, Mommy, we don't say shut up. That is not a sign of maturity.

KIRK You didn't keep him safe.

KAREN KIRK!

KIRK Parents are supposed to keep you safe, not let you get hit by a car. Why did you let go of his hand?

KAREN Shut up, Kirk!

SAMANTHA You're making me really sad, Kirk.

KIRK To chase after some raw chicken? Who does that?

SAMANTHA Daddy said it was an accident.

KIRK He couldn't even walk good yet.

SAMANTHA An awful. . .

KAREN A freak. . .

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KAREN/SAMANTHA Accident.

KIRK Dad doesn't know. He wasn't there.

KAREN That woman that hurt Bertie was a bad woman.

SAMANTHA And a thief.

KAREN Who didn't look where she was going.

SAMANTHA She took our chicken.

KAREN Somebody who doesn't take responsibility.

Grace slams the table hard.

GRACE That's enough. I don't want to hear another word!

Kirk takes his pen suddenly and furiously starts dotting his picture with ink dots.

GRACE Stop that. (He doesn't stop.) I SAID STOP THAT! Drawing little black marks on tiny heads is meaningless. . .

KIRK Maybe it's you that's meaningless. Maybe the whole world is meaningless.

GRACE If you utter one more word, Kirk. . .

KIRK Go 'head, hit me. I'll still hate you.

GRACE Well, maybe I hate you, too.

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KAREN Mom!

SAMANTHA Mommy!

A beat. KIRK (Crushed, contrite) You didn't even look at my drawing.

GRACE Fine! Show it to me.

He holds up the drawing.

KIRK See, these are all our heads. . . And I just added tears to them.

SAMANTHA No, no, no. Daddy said we're not supposed to cry. It'll make Mommy too sad. She's already too sad being a homeschool teacher.

A beat as Grace takes in the enormity of it all. She rips out a piece of paper, then draws a big head with a flourish. Starts making the same tapping pen to paper noise Kirk made. She laughs. Holds up her masterpiece to us. The kids stare, not sure what's happening. But soon her erratic laughter turns to sobs. As the news report drones on. . .

NEWS REPORTER Hopefully, our schools will soon reopen, once again providing millions of children with order, a much-needed routine to their lives. . .

Finally.

KIRK It's okay, Mommy. I know you're sad. But Daddy says grief doesn't last forever, right? In the meantime, do you still want me to hide how sad I am?

The End

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SAFETY NET

Cheryl L. West

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Safety Net was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Riya Sahasrabudhe.

Cast: LUCILLE…………………………………………………………………………………………………….Shaunyce Omar

The pandemic infects many but apparently is killing more black folks. Why is that? The character Lucile posits, “I’ma gonna kill more black and brown folks cause we ain't got enough tools to fight with or enough people in power to fight for us." As a black woman at risk, I too wonder whether anyone would strive to save my life or will I become just another marginal—a mere statistic much like my character Lucille? -Cheryl L. West

Cheryl L. West's plays have been produced in England, off-Broadway, on Broadway and in numerous regional theaters around the country. She has written TV and film projects at Disney, Paramount, MTV Films, Showtime, HBO, CBS, and BET. She is working on commissions for Oregon Shakespeare Festival, Seattle Rep, and the Goodman Theatre.

Author's Agent: Bruce Ostler/Kate Bussert at Bret Adams Ltd., NY, NY.

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SAFETY NET

By Cheryl L. West

Character: LUCILLE

Lights on Lucille, 40ish, listening on speaker phone. She listens to the cacophony of recorded sound beginning with the obnoxious drone of a busy signal. And then. . .

UNEMPLOYMENT PHONE RECORDINGS Your call is important to us. . . .

LUCILLE Hello? Hello?

UNEMPLOYMENT PHONE RECORDINGS Due to enormous volume, we are experiencing record delays. . . Please try again later. . . we're sorry we're experiencing an extremely high volume of calls at this time. . . we recommend you hang up and go to www. . .”

LUCILLE This don't make no sense. I been calling this damn unemployment office everyday. . . 100, 200 times a day. . . And every time I think I'm getting through and get a little hope, I hear. . .

UNEMPLOYMENT PHONE RECORDINGS Please try us at another time. . . . Goodbye.

(And once again the obnoxious sound of the busy signal.)

LUCILLE But I'm running out of time. Tomorrow's the first of the month. Everything comin' due. Oh yeah, Boo, I'm in more than a mood today. See, first they cut my hours, that's after they had us cleaning everything with this new stuff so strong it was making me break out in rashes, had my eyes watering like they was raining. But I didn't complain, too happy to still have a job. Went everyday, cleaning up whatever Covid nasty somebody left behind, praying on the hour not to get infected myself.

But I tell you, anything that's killin' black and white folks while getting blamed on the Chinese, shoot, that's some powerful shit. But you watch, in the end, just like AIDS, it's gonna kill more black and brown folks ‘cause we ain't got enough tools to fight

FOR AUTHORIZED DIGITAL USE ONLY 362 of 388 with or enough people in power to fight for us. You think I'm lying? Look how they wanted to hurry up and open the country when they found out it was mostly folks that looked like me who was the ones dying. Yeah, I might not be educated but I know enough to know there's a reason it's called the White House.

My brother, see he. . . he book smart but dumb as a box of rocks. He say, "Lucille, brains always more important. The brain tells the heart what to do and operates every system in the body."

He talk all crisp like. Hammerin' every sound on every letter. “Syssstem." And I told him well a brain with no heart ain't a brain I wanna meet. . . I believe that's why we got this Covid mess. And I'm not just talking about the virus, I'm talking about all these promises, folks on the news talkin about we in this together. Well, I can't tell. Like I said, too many brains with too little heart.

But, anyway, today I'm feeling a little desperate. If I have to, I'ma call every agency in the city until I get me some damn help.

But first, let me try this unemployment office again.

(She punches in "last call." Once again the busy signal drones on. She picks up a piece of paper.)

Ok, I got me a list of numbers here. Let's pray I don't get somebody that talk all crispy, I just need some help. . . when you live paycheck to paycheck. . . (in Mag's mock cheer voice) "Housing, Health and Human Services. This is Mag. Good morning, with whom am I speaking?"

"Lucille Brown."

"Well, how might I help you? And Lucille I want to assure you we will get through this together."

Hmph. First off, I bet she don't call no white women by they first name.

"Mam, well, see I've been calling the unemployment office. . .”

"Let me stop you right there, Lucille. We are not the unemployment office."

"I know that. . .”

"But I'm happy to provide you with that number."

"I have the damn number, that's why I'm calling you. . .”

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"Excuse me?"

"I've been calling unemployment all times of day and night. . .

"Yes, the backlog is immense. . . millions are trying to access service. . .”

"Yep, yep, that's why I'm calling you. . .”

"Have you tried applying on line. . . ?”

"Yeah, but I can't understand. . . . Look, I needs me a live voice. . . . I need things explained. . . . I get error this, error that. . . I. . . I. . . don’t do so good with. . .”

"Lucille, let me ask you something, do you have a safety net?"

What? What the hell is a damn safety net? She started explainin' it was like a financial cushion for rainy days.

I'm like, everyday I live to greet the sun is a rainy day. I got six children I'm taking care of in this tiny two bedroom apartment. Three are mine, two are my meth-head sister's and I got one grandchild. Times that by a 100 and you'll know just how many roaches I got, too. Plus my crispy ass talkin brother—he live here off an on—‘cause even with all his crispy talkin, his ass mess up every job he gets. (her hand muffling the phone, to us) Then I hear her whisper to the worker next to her, "Marginal and rude." Talkin' bout me. Hell yeah, I'm that and more if that mean I'm minimum wage and have to leave my babies all night to fend for themselves while I go clean airport toilets for non- marginal folks who, I guess must have themselves a safety net.

"I assume there's no husband in the home?"

"If it was, Mag, you think I'd be calling you?"

"Well, Lucille sometimes family can be our safety net. . .”

(Lucille stares at the phone like it's suddenly doing cartwheels.)

Lord, she done worked my absolute last nerve now so I'm about to blow.

"Mag, I don't know who or where you come from but where I come from, Boo, I am the safety net for everybody in my damn family otherwise I wouldn't need to call your ass and have you talk down. . .

"Lucille, I'd prefer it if you would remain calm. . .”

"Me too. But Bitch, ain't no calm in taking care of eight people with no job. . .”

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"Please refrain from calling me bitch."

"Ok, you right, Mag, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Bitch to me is like a, you know. . . like an endearment, you know. . . my bitch. . . my sweet bitch. . . (a little rap dance) Miss Mag trying to help me so bad. . .”

"So Lucille, are you or are you not working?"

"No, are you listening, shit, they laid my ass. . .”

Okay, I gotta swallow my pride. . . talk sweet now, wrap my tongue around proper. (Attempts a proper tone) "And speaking of work, Miss Mag, maybe I should mention I'm tryin to start a little sewing business here at the house. Shoot, I can sew anything, quilts, dresses. . . like I made a little fifteen year olds' wedding dress the other day. She pregnant so she gotta marry the boy on account her mama told her she can't take care of another mouth, plus they got the virus in they house. I made her something pretty, extra lace. See I think everybody need to feel pretty even when they living out a mistake. I'm working hard as I can, cooking and cleaning, even though with eight people I can't never get it clean enough. And I take care of Mr. and Mrs. Johnson down the street. They in their eighties so I cook and clean for them, too. They ain't got no damn safety net neither." (To us) I was so on a roll y’all, I didn't even notice Miss Mag had gone quiet on me. All I could here was the clicking of her typing up something. . . And to prove my point about brains don't mean nothing without a heart. After all that, Miss Mag say real crisp like. . .

"Lucille, I've looked you up by your phone number and it appears you're living in a rent-subsidized apartment. There should be no more than five living there and it can never, ever be used to operate a business.”

"But it's not really a business yet. . . Mrs. Mag, I just sew. . .”

"That includes a sewing business.”

"But I only make an extra fifty, sixty dollars.”

"Sorry, but you leave me no choice. I will have to report that you're in violation. Even in the midst of a pandemic, we still have to follow the rules."

(Lucille stares at us for a beat, stunned to resignation. She clicks off the phone, then to us.)

Well, I'll be damn. (Takes a beat)

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Last shift I worked, I saw on one of the airport TV's where some leader said, he'd rather die on his feet than to live on his knees. . . Sound like somebody with a safety net, don't it? Maybe he got the hook-up and can tell me where I can get me one. . . In the meantime. . .

(She pushes the same "last call" button. . .)

UNEMPLOYMENT PHONE RECORDINGS We're sorry but we're experiencing an extremely high volume of calls at this time. . . .

End of play

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LOL OL

Sheri Wilner

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LOL OL was commissioned and originally presented in June 2020 as part of the UC Santa Barbara, Department of Theater and Dance LAUNCH PAD Zoom festival ALONE, TOGETHER; Risa Brainin, Artistic Director. It was directed by Stefan James. Liz Engelman was the dramaturg. Cast: DOT……………………………………….……………………………………………………………………Sierra Hastings PARTICIPANT #1………………………………………………………………………………………….Hayley O’Toole PARTICIPANT #2………………………………………………………………………….…………….Emilianis Torres PARTICIPANT #3…………………………….………………………………………………………….Harut Simonian PARTICIPANT #4………………………………………………………………………………………….Emma Cardoso PARTICIPANT #5……………………………….…………………………………………………………….Celine Khuu PARTICIPANT #6……………….……………………………………………………………………….La Jae Johnson PARTICIPANT #7……..………………………………………………………………………………………….Ethan Kim

I didn’t want to write a Zoom play. To be honest, I was angry at all of the material artists were creating for Zoom at a time when in NYC, where I live, the world was ending. I spent my days reading about ventilators being shared by four patients at a time and the unnamed dead buried daily on Hart’s Island. I was terrified about my eighty-year-old father in Boston and about my own mental health living alone during an apocalypse. So email invitations to write or watch Zoom plays were immediately deleted. Even the one to write this play. But then Risa Brainin and Annie Torsiglieri each asked me again. Ever since Risa directed and Annie starred in my play Kingdom City for LAUNCH PAD in 2010, they have both helped me so much personally and professionally, I could not say no. And so I decided to write a Zoom play that expressed all of my ambivalence about writing a play that would not be shared with a live, assembled audience. What was better, I wondered, to write for a platform that to me is the exact antithesis of the theatre, or to stop sharing work until theatres could re-open? Instead of dealing with the question directly, I chose to write about a laughter yoga class, which, like theatre, really only works when it is a shared group experience. Should such things cease during this time, or should we attempt to recreate these experiences “alone, together”? I hope this play poses that question, which I’m eager to debate with you, ideally in person. -Sheri Wilner

Sheri Wilner’s plays include Bake Off, Relative Strangers, Father Joy, and Kingdom City (LAUNCH PAD, 2010) and have been presented at La Jolla Playhouse, The Old Globe, Guthrie Theater, Actors Theatre of Louisville, the O’Neill Playwrights’ Conference, the Old Vic, and numerous others. She teaches for NYU and the Dramatists Guild Institute.

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Ben Izzo (agent) Abrams Artists Agency The Empire State Building 350 Fifth Ave. 38th Floor New York NY 10118 [email protected] 1 (646) 486-4600

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LOL OL A Zoom “play”

By Sheri Wilner

Characters: DOT DARCY: 35 – 55. A laughter yoga instructor. She is physically fit, exudes lots of energy and is a consummate professional. She runs a very successful laughter yoga studio and is terrific at her job. But she’s lonely. And sheltering in place alone has intensified her sadness. 6-9 LAUGHTER YOGA STUDENTS: Any race, age, or gender*. Individual companies performing this play are encouraged to have fun creating the characters, their settings, their circumstances and their reasons for participating in the class. There are some specifics the text asks you to fulfill, but with these few exceptions, who and where the characters are should be determined by the directors and actors. Just please, no broad, sitcom-style portrayals. All of these people have dignity, intelligence and a genuine human need to connect. Actors should also create profile names they would use on a dating site rather than use their actual names. If they refer to each other in the script, they should also use their dating names. Nothing raunchy please. Everyone on the site is looking for a long-term relationship. Given the shelter-in-place order, no one is looking for a one-night hook up!

* The script will refer to each character as “they” rather than “she” or “he,” since any gender can perform any of the characters. When you see “s/he” in the script, please choose either “she” or “he” depending on the gender of the actor.

For a terrific sample of a Zoom laughter yoga class, as well as instructions on how to do the exercises mentioned in the play, here’s a very helpful YouTube video: https:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPWa1RRS6yY&t=831s

Setting: The, by now, very familiar interface of a Zoom meeting. Time: Any time, beginning two weeks after a town’s shelter-in-place order has been issued, to a later time when the shelter-in-place order is still in effect.

A Zoom meeting is about to begin. Among the participants is Dot Darcy, 35-55, a physically fit, upbeat laughter yoga instructor, who will be leading a class. The other participants are also present and in the familiar Zoom “Brady Bunch” formation. Who the participants are, their genders, where they are Zooming from, their reasons for attending this class and their personalities can be determined by the company. Some characters are invested and enthusiastic, some are skeptical, some are desperate for interaction and are deeply depressed. The specific things that must happen though are:

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Participant 1—Organizing this event was all their idea, and so now they are the anxious host hoping everyone is having a great time. Although they appear to be enjoying the class, underneath all of their behavior is an urgent need to find relief for deep loneliness.

Participant 2 has their cell phone close and anxiously checks it whenever it “bings” with a new notification. The bings happen just occasionally at first, but then become very frequent where indicated. It should be clear from their reactions that the calls and messages are about a loved one’s dire health crisis.

Participant 3 begins the class feeling very irritated/angry. They drink beer throughout the class.

Participant 5 should look unwell and have a persistent cough. They cough only once in a while at first, then much more frequently where indicated.

In addition, the characters should encounter typical Zoom problems—frozen video, connectivity issues, etc.

With these exceptions, please have fun creating the characters, their dating names, settings and circumstances. Different ages and races should be represented. I just ask that the tone and characterizations avoid being overly broad and silly. The humor should come from the situation and the inherent irony and not through any silliness or “jokiness.” Dot is fantastic at her job, runs a successful business, and unreservedly believes in the benefits of what she does, as much as any seasoned professional. After all, there are actual and confirmed benefits of laughter yoga.

PARTICIPANT 1 Hello everybody! This is (dating site name), the event organizer of tonight’s special (your city’s name) Singles MeetUp Group!

Participant 1 and some of the others cheer.

I’m excited you guys could be here after such horrible month. And I hope tonight. . . you know, know, this class. . . helps. It’s actually. . . something I’ve wanted to try long before any of this craziness began and so when I found out someone was doing it on Zoom, I thought it would be a really cool way to restart our group. I mean. . . I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t seen anyone, in person, in over a month. I thought being single was bad before this, but. . . (s/he sighs). Have you all been alone this whole time?

All of the participants, including Dot, nod and/or respond by saying “yeah,” or “sure have.”

Well. . . it’s great to see you guys and I think this might help.

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PARTICIPANT 6 Thanks, (dating site name)!

PARTICIPANT 7 Yeah, thanks.

PARTICIPANT 1 (To Participant 7) Hey, you’re engaged. You can’t be in a singles group anymore!

PARTICIPANT 7 (S/he) broke it off.

PARTICIPANT 1 Oh god. / I’m so sorry—

PARTICIPANT 2 PARTICIPANT 3 PARTICIPANT 6 Oh no! Sorry dude. Damn!

The other participants might add similar condolences. Participant 7, overcome with sadness, turns their video off.

PARTICIPANT 1 Shit! OK. Um. . . so. . . to those of you new to (your city’s name) Singles Meetup, welcome. We hope you’re only with us for a really short time and you meet someone amazing really soon. Maybe they cross their fingers and hold them up. OK. So now, I’d like to introduce our Laughter Yoga instructor, Dot Darcy. She’s going to lead us through some really fun exercises to get us laughing. Thanks for being here, Dot.

DOT You’re very welcome, (dating name)—very fun name by the way. Well, like s/he said, I’m Dot Darcy and I’m the founder and owner of LOL Yoga, located in beautiful downtown (nearby city or town). LOL Yoga of course stands for Laugh Out Loud Yoga. For those of you brand new to laughter yoga, it’s a whole-body wellness practice consisting of guided exercises that initiate prolonged voluntary laughter. It’s based on research that says voluntary laughter provides the same amazing health benefits as spontaneous laughter, which gives us a big DOSE of happiness.

She holds up a sign with the word “DOSE” printed in big letters. Printed near each of the four letters are the words “dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, endorphins.”

That’s right. Laughter serves us that feel good chemical cocktail of dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, and endorphins that improves our mood and helps us think more positively. Raise your hands if you could use some help with that right now.

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All participants raise their hands. Participant 7 turns their video back on. They look horribly sad.

Welcome back! Now what I’ve done for you all today is adapted several exercises we typically do at LOL Yoga specifically for the Zoom format. I’m guessing by now everyone here is familiar with Zoom.

All of the other participants respond verbally or nod.

PARTICIPANT 3 Yeah and I hate it. I had six hours of meetings today on this piece of shit/ platform—

DOT Well we’re all getting used to this new world. Speaking of which—full disclosure—this is the first time I’ll be using Zoom to teach laughter yoga, and so. . .

She bows her head and places palms together.

Namaste. Or, I guess now it’s Nama-stay at home, right? So anyone here ever try laughter yoga?

PARTICIPANT 2 My ex just got certified to teach it.

DOT Really?

PARTICIPANT 2 Yeah, at “Laughter Yoga University.”

DOT (Arm raised) Class of 2016 in da house!

PARTICIPANT 3 Ha! Their mascot must be a hyena!

Participant 2’s phone “bings” with a text alert.

PARTICIPANT 2 Ooops! Sorry!

DOT That’s OK. (To everyone) It reminds all of us to make sure our devices are turned off and some place we can’t see them.

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Maybe Participant 2’s phone bings again?

Give yourself this time to forget about everything other than your own well-being, OK?

Participant 2 has covered their mouth, as a reaction to some alarming personal news. Everyone looks at them expecting them to say something but they turn off their video and audio. Beat.

OK. Um. . . So Laughter Yoga was designed to be done in groups because laughter’s so contagious. But since something even more contagious is out in them thar hills, I’ve adapted the exercises we typically do at LOL studios in a variation I call LOL. . . OL. Laugh out loud. . . online. These exercises are designed specifically for us singles who were alone even before the pandemic began and I’m guessing. . . might be alone after it’s over too. I mean nothing kills your dating life more than a virus, right? . . . So we need to learn how to laugh no matter what’s going on in our lives. Which is what we’re going to do right now! We’re all going to be playful and laugh, and as we make eye contact with each other, we’ll let/ our laughter become contagious—

PARTICIPANT 3 Hey, you can’t make eye contact on Zoom. You ever try?

Some of the participants try, by choosing to look into the eyes of another participant. They might do so by getting very close to their screens. Perhaps Participant 3 laughs at their attempts.

PARTICIPANT 1 (To Participant 6) Hey, (dating name), I’ll look at you, you look at me, OK?

PARTICIPANT 6 OK. Are you/ looking at me?

DOT Let’s just all do our best, OK? And give our attention to each other as best we can. For now we’re going to enjoy breathing and smiling. Do it with me. Breathe in. . .

As she breathes in, she uses her index fingers to push up the corners of her lips into a smile. Some of the participants follow along and some just watch, depending on their characters.

(Continuing) Smile! And sigh it out. (As her fingers move her mouth back into a neutral position) Aaah. Just let it go. And breathe in. Smile. And sigh out. Aaah. Just one more time. Breathe in. Smile! And release. Aaah. Fan-tastic. This next time we're gonna to stretch up as we smile and inhale, and then laugh our way down as we exhale. Okay? Breathe in, smile and stretch.

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PARTICIPANT 3 I’m gonna have to put my beer down for this.

DOT Breathe in! (She does) And laugh

She laughs as she lets her arms fall. Each person participates in character.

Breathe in, smile and stretch. And laugh. (same) Inhale arms overhead. And. . . (same) Fan-tastic! Now we’re going to add a little laughter chant I like to do.

Participant 2 returns.

DOT Welcome back!

PARTICIPANT 2 I’m sorry. It’s my (mother/father/sister).

DOT That’s OK. Now remember our bodies don’t know the difference between going through the motions of laughter and really laughing. So this is a chant that helps us make laughter sounds that are very beneficial for our respiration and circulation and lots of other things. We get the same benefits from laughing as we get from aerobic exercise. Can you believe that?

PARTICIPANT 1 PARTICIPANT 3 Wow. No.

DOT Yeah. So we’re gonna take our hands, move them to the side, and as we clap, we’re going to make the sound ho, ho.

Two claps on one side of her body.

(Continuing) Then ha ha ha

Three claps on the other side.

(Continuing) Try it with me. Three times.

All but Participant 3 join her as she repeats this exercise twice. They’re out of sync in terms of the laugh sounds, claps, and sides of their bodies.

Ho, ho. Ha, ha, ha. Ho, ho. Ha, ha, ha. One more time. Ho, ho. Ha, ha, ha and yaaaaaay!

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As she says “yaaay,” which she’ll do at the completion of each exercise, she raises her hands above her head and waves them around.

We always conclude with a yaaaaaay!

PARTICIPANT 1 My neighbor’s probably wondering, “What the heck is going on in there?”

DOT Right. Right. Well, you’re probably all wondering what the heck is going on in general, right? I mean. . . what the hell is happening? But. . . let’s just put our hands in the air (she holds her arms and hands up in an exaggerated shrug gesture) and say, “We don't know why we're laughing but we're gonna laugh anyway. Ready? And go

With her hands in the shrug gesture she laughs, sometimes shaking her head ‘no,’ sometimes putting her hands on top of her head in an “oh my god” gesture. The others try their best to imitate her.

And. . . yaaaaaay! Come on everyone, say it with me. . . Yaaaaaay!

SOME PARTICIPANTS (With varying enthusiasm) Yaaaaaay!

DOT (To Participant 3) I said everyone.

PARTICIPANT 3 Yeah, I’m not doing that.

DOT Just give it a try—

PARTICIPANT 3 This is bullshit.

Participant 3 leaves the meeting.

DOT OK. Well. To each his/her own, right? Now this next one is called handwashing laughter. Which I try to do every time I wash my hands. Ten to twelve times a day. Ah!! And, just like we’re supposed to do with real handwashing, we’ll sing “Happy birthday.” Except instead of singing the words we’ll make the sound ha ha ha, OK?

PARTICIPANT 4 My birthday was yesterday.

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DOT Wonderful! Happy/ birthday. . .

ALL PARTICIPANTS Happy birthday!

PARTICIPANT 4 It was awful. I baked a cake and asked some friends to Zoom with me, but not one of them showed up.

DOT Well this song is just for you. OK! Let's wash our hands together. Ready? And go!

They mime washing their hands while singing ha ha ha ha ha-ha, to the tune of “Happy Birthday.” Participant 4 can’t stand how inferior this feels to celebrating with friends and leaves the meeting.

PARTICIPANT 6 Hey, what happened to the birthday girl/boy?

PARTICIPANT 1 Oh no. I hope s/he comes back.

PARTICIPANT 7 Yeah. . .

A small beat, but then Dot sees the moods of the others falling and she rallies.

DOT I’m sure s/he will! In the meantime, our next exercise is called mask laughter. So let’s all put our laughter masks on.

She puts one of her hands over her mouth.

(Continuing) And as we raise our masks up (she raises her hand over her head) we laugh and when we put our masks down, we frown.

Participant 5 coughs more than usual. Some participants look at them with concern, but Dot carries on.

We're gonna go between laughing and frowning. Just like life. Okay, ready?

Dot does this a couple of times. At some point, Participant 7 goes from fake frowning and crying to really crying. They leave the meeting.

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Dot eventually raises and lowers her hand up and down faster and faster and introduces other variations. As this happens, Participant 2’s phone “bings” several times in a row, alerting them to very bad news. At the point Dot can no longer continue the exercise because of the interruptions, she addresses Participant 2.

Excuse me?

More “bings” from the phone. Participant 2 reads, not looking at Dot.

Excuse me, (dating name)? Is everything OK?

Participant 2 looks at Dot and shakes her head no. They’re too upset to answer. Another “bing” sounds. Participant 2 looks at the message, perhaps covers their mouth in distress, and then leaves the meeting. Dot takes a moment to absorb what’s happened before addressing the class.

So we lost a few of your classmates. Which I know. . . makes this really hard, but. . . here’s the thing. . . If you stay with the practice and try your very best, we’ll still get in some really great benefits and feel much better than if we stopped now. So if you’re willing to keep trying. . . here’s what we’re going to do. Let’s put on some glasses. . .

Making two circles with her fingers, she mimes wearing glasses.

That’s right put them on and if you can make them rose-colored glasses, that’s even better. So let’s look at each other, making eye contact as best we can and laugh. Ready? Go.

As Dot and the others pretend to wear eyeglasses, staring right into their cameras and laughing, Participant 5 begins coughing heavily. They exit without leaving the meeting or stopping their video. Their absence is palpable.

PARTICIPANT 1 (Interrupting the laughter) Excuse me, (dating name). Hello. Do you know her?

PARTICIPANT 6 I’ve seen her before but. . . no.

PARTICIPANT 1 That cough sounded. . .

DOT Let’s just give her/him some time, OK? I’m sure s/he’ll be back.

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PARTICIPANT 6 (Trying to ease Participant 1’s fears) Maybe s/he needed some water.

PARTICIPANT 1 Yeah, maybe.

DOT Speaking of water, let’s all have a glass. OK? Everyone hold up a glass like this.

She mimes holding a glass in one of her hands.

PARTICIPANT 1 Wait. I’m sorry. I don’t/ think I can—

DOT I know. It’s hard to laugh. But remember, we’re still getting all those amazing health benefits even if we’re just going through the motions.

PARTICIPANT 6 I don’t feel like I’m getting anything from this.

PARTICIPANT 1 Yeah. This isn’t laughing.

DOT To our bodies it is. Trust me, our bodies/ don’t know the difference—

PARTICIPANT 1 But doesn’t laughing mean laughing with someone else?

PARTICIPANT 6 Yeah. No one who texts LOL actually laughs out loud.

PARTICIPANT 1 Exactly! It’s not something you can do alone. Not in any real way. No one laughs—like really laughs when they’re alone.

DOT You’re not alone.

PARTICIPANT 1 On Zoom, you’re alone! I’m sorry but. . . this is nothing like laughing with someone—

DOT But we can’t be with anyone right now. That’s why we’re here, right?

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PARTICIPANT 1 So then why laugh?

PARTICIPANT 6 Exactly.

PARTICIPANT 1 Right?! I mean why even try when everything we know, everything that was, isn’t anymore? Everything’s changing, everything’s being destroyed.

PARTICIPANT 6 People are dying.

PARTICIPANT 1 Yes! And. . . we’ll never shake hands or want to sit next to, or trust each other, or feel safe close to another human being again. Why fake laugh when it’s never going to be what made laughter laughter? Which is to laugh together and not in this “alone, together” bullshit kind of way. Until I can laugh the real way, I’m willing to not laugh. I’m willing to wait. . . I’m really sorry. I thought this might. . . I’m sorry.

Participant 1 leaves the meeting.

DOT I know people are dying. But. . . I thought this was worth a try. We have to try something, right?

PARTICIPANT 6 . . . Namaste.

Participant 6 leaves the meeting. The only video still on is Participant 5’s. Dot looks at herself on the screen. She uses her index fingers to force a smile. It doesn’t work. So she lets her smile drop. A siren is heard in Participant 5’s background. Dot looks at Participant 5’s video in alarm. Overcome by sadness, she leaves the meeting. All that can be seen is the empty room of Participant 5 as the sound of the siren grows louder.

END OF PLAY

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Table of Contents—by Alone, Together festival chapters

Chapter 1 (about 90 minutes)

Mia Chung Quietus 94 Cast: One character named I. Any sex or race.

“I” has been feeling queasy lately.

Katie Bender King Zoom 9 Cast: Two female; two male; one female/male/non-binary.

Don King is dying, he convenes a family zoom meeting to divy out his fortune.

Lynn Rosen But Here I Am 222 Cast: Ideally two male, but male, female, or non-binary for either part is fine.

In this serio/comic scene, two siblings who are polar opposites try to connect during a late-night call.

Cheryl L. West Corona Chicken Part One 339 Cast: One female, African-American.

A high-strung woman ventures out for the first time in weeks only to have a raw chicken encounter that upends her entire life.

Cheryl L. West Corona Chicken Part Two 345 Cast: Three female; one male.

There’s the immeasurable grief and then there’s the grief unexpressed. How did a stolen chicken bury a family between the abyss of both?

Arlene Hutton Neither Here Nor There 167 Cast: Two females, 21, any race.

Two best friends, roommates since freshman year, are separated when their college shuts down after spring break and discover a class divide they didn’t know existed.

John Walch 2084 326 Cast: Two actors, male or female, 21 and any age.

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Alison Tatlock Here Comes the Sun 299 Cast: One male, 40s-50s; one male, 30s-50; one older male; one female, 40s-50s; one female, any age; one, any gender, 30s-50s; one, any gender, any age; two twins, male and female or non-binary.

A multi-generational group of close friends and family attempts to record a song for an unnamed loved one, but quarantine stress, technical difficulties, and interpersonal challenges intervene.

Enid Graham Do Not Go, My Love 149 Cast: One female, 30-60; one male, around 20.

While navigating the cold bureaucracy of a government help-line, two people find a way to have a human connection.

Chapter 2 (about 90 minutes)

Annie Torsiglieri First Date 309 Cast: One actor, any gender, any race, any age.

Edwina bares her soul and misquotes poetry as she ponders the merits of Puppy Chow. Perfect for a live performance or zoom.

Idris Goodwin Talk Tomorrow 139 Cast: Two any gender.

In the midst of a global pandemic, two siblings have their daily video call. A play about connection.

Yussef El Guindi Cha-Cha 110 Cast: One female; one male.

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Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta Rosebud 83 Cast: One male, 20s-30s; one female, 20s-30s; one of any gender, 20s-30s

When one couple’s relationship goes online due to Covid, the romantic bloom is off the Rosebud, so to speak—all because of a strange obsession with Orson Welles’ film Citizen Kane.

Dan Castellaneta and Deb Lacusta Dynamite Sales 66 Cast: One female, 30’s; one male, 30.

When a business motivational speaker loses control of her sales seminar to her only participant—a clueless, sexist, misanthrope—she begins to question her own career.

Arlene Hutton All the Cranes in the World 162 Cast: One female, 18.

While her sister is hospitalized, Meredith has to remotely babysit her five-year-old niece via FaceTime.

James Still Mom’s Kids 262 Cast: Two women; two men. Everything tells a story. In the same spirit in which I wrote the play, characters may/can/should be played by actors of any race, ethnicity, origin and other-abledness. In whatever way the play is cast, it will tell the story of a 21st-century family.

There has been a lot of conversation about being at our best while sheltering in place—and then there are Mom’s kids. . .

Katie Bender The Most Human Human 29 Cast: One female, 20s.

Maybe the Turing Test prize for Most Human Human is something Maria could get famous for . . . flaws and all.

Cheri Steinkellner The Great Greats 240 Cast: One female (Grandma Elsie); Seven any gender, cast to type.

Elsie’s great-grandchildren get together online to celebrate grandma's 100th, quarantine-style.

Idris Goodwin The Art of Coping 133 Cast: One any gender.

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A young adult takes to the live stream and provides tools to help us soldier on.

Chapter 3 (about 90 minutes)

Sheri Wilner LOL OL 365 Cast: One female, 35-55; Two to six, any race, age, or gender.

Lynn Rosen That Flower, That Flower 232 Cast: One female, 20s.

In this serio/comic monologue, a betrayed wife leaves her husband a “Dear John” video before fleeing.

Leo Cabranes-Grant Zoom Baby 53 Cast: One Latino/Puerto Rican male, mid-30s; one white female, early-30s.

William Davies King Les Mots Justes, or Hold Your Tongue 184 Cast: Three characters, any gender, any age.

Three characters in search of a way—a word—to cut the distance. Playful vignette.

Cheryl L. West Safety Net 358 Cast: One woman, African-American; one woman of any race.

Lynn Rosen The Shakespeare Section 236 Cast: One male, or female, or non-binary. Feel free to change all pronouns to anything, ideally 20s but can be any age.

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In this comic monologue for camera, or for a live audience, a student spots the person they're in love with and channels Shakespeare to win them over. Or at least they try to.

James Still Whitman v The United States: Case 36 (on Zoom) 286 Cast: Two actors. Everything tells a story. In the same spirit in which I wrote the play, characters may/can/should be played by actors of any race, ethnicity, origin and other-abledness. In whatever ways the play is cast, it will tell the story of a storyteller and a judge.

Annie Torsiglieri The Safest Space 315 Cast: Two characters: any gender, any race, any age.

In this post-apocalyptic world Milo and Bock are connected by deteriorating technology. . . and so much more. Beckett meets zoom.

Jenny Mercein Auld Lang Syne 194 Cast: One female, 40s-60s; two males, 40s-60s.

When a global pandemic cancels their high school reunion, Dan makes the bold move to reach out to his long-lost friend Abby.

Chapter 4 (about 90 minutes)

Linda Alper Pick Me Up 1 Cast: One actor, any gender.

When called on to make a special Italian dessert, a chef in a senior living residence discovers an emotional connection to a difficult resident.

Jami Brandli Pandemic Therapy 35 Cast: Two female, one 20s, the other 40s-50s; one male, 20s.

A young married couple struggles to adjust to their new pandemic living situation while their therapist wrestles with her own problems.

Brian Otaño I’m Not Going Home 203

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Cast: One actor, early 20s, any gender or ethnicity.

A young Covid-19 patient in New York City finds the courage to end a relationship from their hospital bed.

Brian Otaño South Lake Tahoe, California 209 Cast: Two male; two female, late teens/early 20s, any ethnicity (except Glenn, who should be white.)

A Zoom party/movie night takes a frightening turn for four quarantined students.

Alison Tatlock Flight 294 Cast: Two adults, any race/ethnicity, one young, one older.

A queen instructs a young person to stop running and return home.

Mia Chung Which Actually Isn’t So New 97 Cast: Two females, any race.

Two friends catch up with each other.

Lila Rose Kaplan Pandemic Romance Monologue 180 Cast: One female, late 30s, any race.

Rowan's husband won't stop buying romance novels. What's she going to do?

James Still Waiting for Now 276 Cast: Two women. Everything tells a story. In the same spirit in which I wrote the play, characters may/can/should be played by actors of any race, ethnicity, origin and other-abledness. In whatever ways the play is cast, it will tell the story of two souls.

Anne García-Romero Late Night Prayer 124 Cast: One male; one female.

While experiencing anxiety over her future, an undocumented student actor reaches out to her fellow actor to seek guidance and solace.

Jami Brandli Zoom Audition 48 Cast: One female, early to mid 20s.

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A young woman does her first Zoom audition while she wrestles with her inner darkness.

A requiem on Zoom, written for one person, Abundance is about one person’s surprisingly joyful and heartbreaking moments between death and the mystery of what comes next. But at its heart the play is very much about epiphany and generosity, about discovery and gifts, about connections and saying goodbye.

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ALONE, TOGETHER COMPANY

PLAYWRIGHTS William Davies King Linda Alper Deb Lacusta Katie Bender Jenny Mercein Jami Brandli Brian Otaño Dan Castellaneta Lynn Rosen Leo Cabranes-Grant Cheri Steinkellner Mia Chung James Still Yussef El Guindi Alison Tatlock Anne García-Romero Annie Torsiglieri Idris Goodwin John Walch Enid Graham Cheryl L. West Arlene Hutton Sheri Wilner Lila Rose Kaplan

DIRECTORS Billie Stouter Hassebrock Irwin Appel Stefan James Hala Baki Sara Rademacher Kate Bergstrom Jack Richman Selene Betancourt Riya Sahasrabudhe Michael Bernard Iris Skeen Daniel Andres Blanco Daniel Stein Risa Brainin Cheri Steinkellner Leo Cabranes-Grant Yizhou (Frances) Sun Shianne Dingeman Annie Torsiglieri Julie Fishell Nicole Zahner Katherine Hamilton Maria Zelaya Santillan

ACTORS Julie Fishell Irwin Appel Betty Galindo Aaron Arpon Violet Joy Hansen Catherine Ballantyne Brian Harwell Michael Bernard Sierra Hastings Daniel Andres Blanco Daniel Herrera Maison “Bub” Bray Ryan Hollon Shekinah Bryant Andalyn Honselaar Johnathan Buhrer Kerry Jacinto Emma Cardoso Valeryee Jimenez Julie Caudill LaJae Johnson Xochitl Clare Celine Khuu Roz Cornejo Ethan J. Kim Sheila Correa Matte Kranz Ivana Cruz Alyssa Longwill Harry Davis Colson Lynn Frances Domingos Jeff Mills

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Jane Morris Daniel Stein Sara Neal Cheri Steinkellner Shaunyce Omar Carissa Stewart Sean O’Shea Blake Thompson Hayley O’Toole Emilianis Torres Lindsay Ray Annie Torsiglieri Dillon Redd Magan Tran Cyrus Roberts Hailey Turner Jenna Scanlon Angel Villalobos Harut Simonian Sabra Weber Navnoor Singh Kahlon Varrick Weir Vishay Singh Martin Wong Alexandra Singleton Mario Carlo Yanes Lana Spring

DESIGNERS Allison McSwain Irwin Appel Ann Sheffield (Design Mentor) Kaede Kogo

DRAMATURGS Eric Nightengale Liz Engelman Luan Schooler

STAGE MANAGERS Rebecca Moreno Emily Coin Maria Zelaya Santillan Sophie Lynd Nikki Stark

STAFF Eric Mills Devin Gee Una Mladenovic Lillian Hannahs Sandarbh Tripathi Daniel J. Herrera Denise Umland Lauren Marquez Mark Williams

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