Cherry Muffins: A Demon Play by Elizabeth A. M. Keel 5415 Scott St. Apt. 50 Houston, TX 77021 [email protected] (832) 277-6858 elizabethamkeel.com ©2019 SYNOPSIS Loreliar is a sex demon. She comes from the long and illustrious line of Drainer succubi. But when she suddenly quits the family business to open a modest coffee shop, her shocked siblings are forced to investigate. They rise up from Hell to discover that their kid sister has committed the ultimate fiendish taboo: she has fallen in love with a mortal man. Havoc reigns as angels, demons, and baristas juggle love, loyalty, holy pink pastries, and caffeine. Her siblings are ultimately swayed by the alien happiness their sister has found, and fight Hell itself to support her decision to remain at Noah’s side. CAST: 6F, 3 M, EXTRAS Both the mortal world and the underworld are diverse in ages and ethnicities. THE SEX DEMONS NICOLD The oldest sister. A succubus. SHADEN The middle brother. An incubus. LORELIAR The baby sister, also a succubus. Owner of the café. THE HUMANS KITTY A barista and baker at the café. Very pink, a huge flirt. KAT A barista and a prickly, not-great artist. WENDY A barista, learning to manage her anger issues. WANDA A barista and a New Age believer. NOAH A human customer who runs an orphanage/orchard. MAXWELL The only male barista. An undercover angel posing as a graduate student. SEXTRAS Other assorted mortals, who frequent the café as needed. TIME & PLACE The Keep Going Café. Houston, now. DEVELOPMENT HISTORY Cherry Muffins: A Demon Play was commissioned and produced by Cone Man Running Productions at the Obsidian Arts Space in Houston in March of 2016. https://www.houstoniamag.com/articles/2016/3/11/cherry-muffins-a-demon-play “If you are going through Hell, Keep Going.” –Winston Churchill #1 ACT ONE – SCENE ONE Morning. The Keep Going Café, about to open. Tables and mismatched chairs/loveseats are set up in cozy fashion. A large board lists the items, prices, specials. Loreliar is alone in her element. She is one of those females who gets called a slip-of-a-thing, and despises it. She checks the cups, the sweeteners, the tables, occasionally touching a counter with pride. A hint of tropical music rises in the air. It’s sweet. Loreliar sways to it, executing a spin and a sigh, lifting her arms a bit, before she realizes it’s playing. She halts. LORELIAR Hey. Stop that. It’s six a.m. Not the time. Nuh! Nuh uh! No. The music throbs, as if pouting. LORELIAR Let’s do this. She turns on a music player. Acoustic coffee shop music plays, significantly tamer. The magic music disappears. Loreliar launches into a dervish of efficiency and good cheer. There is no request she hasn’t heard, no complication that can possibly vex her. She’s a barista god. As she speaks to the unseen customers, she bends, stretches, delivers, takes money, makes change, swipes cards, tears receipts. This is a dance, and she knows every step. LORELIAR Good morning! What size? For here or to go? $3.75. Banana nut? We have soy, oat, almond, coconut – soy. Hot or cold? What size? Sign here. Would you like a tray? Whip cream? Extra hot. Roger that. Thanks. Have a good morning. Hello, welcome to Keep Going. No, I haven’t, but my co-worker loves that one. I’ve got 2%, 1%, fat free – okay, whole. What size? For here or to go? Can do. Eight, nine, and ten. Here you go. Thanks. And good morning. Yes sir. Caramel? Got it. Sugar’s over there. There’s the pink, the yellow, the blue, the brown, the – okay, pink. Two? No problem. Sign here please. That’s espresso. That’s coffee. ...So you want a redeye? Brave soul. Oh. A decaf redeye. Sure. Why not. Yes? You asked for dry. Dry means foam. You’d rather have a latte? Coming right up. Cherry or maple? Here or to go? Thank you. Good morning, welcome in, we’re open til ten, glad you like us. Iced? What size? For here or to go? Excellent. Oh, I think this is ______, but it’s just on the radio. Satellite, you know. Cappuccino. Cappuccino? CAPPUCCINO! Okay, here you go, thanks for coming in. #2 Kitty sashays in, tying her apron, taking the counter beside her boss. Kitty is a human cupcake: puffy, pink, frosted, and rising out of her wrappings. LORELIAR Morning, Kitty! KITTY Hi, boss! They’re six deep today! LORELIAR Ready for it? KITTY Yup. All the pastries are in the back. I thought we’d test drive that raspberry oat bar, and I doubled down on the pomegranate pancakes. Butter and sugar will save the world. A beat. They man the battle stations. KITTY Morning! For here or to go? What size? LORELIAR Hello again. Welcome back. The usual? KITTY Hot? Coming right up. (A wink.) I’ve got chai. LORELIAR Almond, soy, coconut, 2%, 1%, fat free, okay, can do. KITTY Yes, sir. Sign here please. Next? LORELIAR Caramel macchiato? The real kind or the Starbucks kind? KITTY I’m fine, how are yooou? Oh? Well that’s always nice to hear. LORELIAR Kitty. Kitty. #3 KITTY Sorry. Here you go, sir. Strong and... black. I’m Kitty, I’m here all week. NEXT! LORELIAR ...Sorry, you ready? All right. Cream cheese, jelly, peanut butter, butter butter, margarine– KITTY Vanilla latte, extra shot. Sure thing, sweetheart. LORELIAR No, I don’t have Brie, but I do have organic plum jam from a farm run by orphans, so let’s look on the bright side, okay? Bye bye. KITTY & LORELIAR And keep going to Keep Going! Finally, it’s ended. KITTY Ugh. I don’t know how you keep up with them. I mean, all of them. They’re so needy. LORELIAR I like taking their money. KITTY I like spending it. LORELIAR You’re very... pink. Today. KITTY I have a date. LORELIAR Again? KITTY He’s new. My mama knows his mama. LORELIAR Full steam ahead then. KITTY (Adjusting her weapons.) He’s a dead man. #4 The door opens. Kat enters in a storm of eyeliner and attitude, clutching a canvas. LORELIAR Morning, Kat. KAT I finished 17. KITTY Kat! You closed! Have you slept? KAT I never sleep when I’m in the territorial grip of the Muses. I’m too alive. ...Also, Kitty, can you make me a quad soy almond latte? KITTY Poof! You’re a quad soy almond latte. Kat glares at her. Kitty mixes one up. LORELIAR Let me see. KAT Be honest, Lorelei. Kat reveals a dramatic charcoal sketch. It’s black and white, bleak, with a large 17 on it. LORELIAR It’s... very... prime. We can hang it next to 16. KITTY I’m all for living your dreams, Kat, but I don’t get it. What’s with the numbers? KAT Because art craves logic, order, hierarchy, even as it devolves in the face of entropy. We are born to die. The only solace is to count the time as it passes. “Ceci n’est pas un pipe.” KITTY You should try to get some sleep before two. I can’t tell if it’s insomnia or make-up anymore. KAT We can’t all keep Baker Barbie hours. #5 LORELIAR I’ll get Wanda to help me with the ladder. KAT Thank you. KITTY Quad soy happy sauce! Cheer up, buttercup! KAT Kitty? KITTY Yes, Kat? KAT You are so… pink. KITTY I have a date. KAT With Ken? In Malibu? KITTY Wanna see a picture? (She pulls her (pink) phone out of her cleavage.) KAT (Beat.) He’s very symmetrical. KITTY I know, right? LORELIAR I’m going to place the orders. Kitty, you good? KITTY Mmhmm! Work your magic, Lorelei! Here, Kat, you can take one of my new raspberry oat bars. KAT Get a grip. I will not eat any more of your pink food. I’ve got to go draw coiffed, tanned, and overly waxed “nudes,” even though humans are incapable of revealing their truly naked selves. #6 KITTY Ooh, fun! See you at two! Kat sails out. Kitty turns to cleaning. Loreliar, amused, brings a stack of paperwork to a table. Noah enters, with a book under his arm. Loreliar’s entire body tenses up. She refuses to look at him, even as he orders a plain cup of coffee from Kitty, crosses over, and takes a seat near her. Loreliar has written nothing, barely remembered to breathe. Finally, when he is settled, she looks at him. Her eyes drink him in. Oh, how she loves this man. He turns a page. She responds as if he’s touched her, gripping the table. There is a crash off stage. KITTY Oops! I think a shelf broke in the back! She exits to check on it. Loreliar moves closer to Noah. NOAH (Glancing up politely:) Hey. LORELIAR Hey. He smiles at her and returns to his journal, putting a pen to the page. Loreliar stands looking at him. A throb rises again from her magic, tropical music. It’s cheerful, flirty, and loud enough to make Noah look up. She hastily strangles it off. He returns to his work. Cautiously, she watches. He takes a sip. She closes her eyes against the sight of it. Then, a decision reached, she crosses towards him, pulls back his hair, and sits in his lap to plant a kiss on him that makes the lights bleed red.