(My small room. I sleep on my cot. I don't hear her knocking and Janie Smuthers enters through the unlocked door. She pokes me a couple times to wake me, but I just roll over and show her my back. She rolls up a newspaper and whacks me over the head with it. No response. At last she decides to utter a word that is sure to accomplish her aim.)
Smuthers: Klingons!
Myself: (startled to conciousness) Where?
Smuthers: Come on, get up. It's time to do another show.
Myself: (groggily) Isn't it Saturday yet?
Smuthers: Snap out of it! Your first guest will be here any minute.
Myself: I didn't book any guests.
Smuthers: What? Why not?
Myself: (stretching) Didn't feel like it. (I lie back down.)
Smuthers: How are you going to have a show without guests?
Myself: The show's not about my guests. It's about my life.
Smuthers: Well did you at least prepare a script so I have have something to say and don't have to stand here like a dummy for half an hour?
Myself: The show writes itself out of my life experience.
Smuthers: (eyeing my desolate surroundings) Or lack thereof.
Myself: Besides, you're doing just fine. (I yawn and shut my eyes.)
Smuthers: I'm going home if there's nothing for me to do here.
(Someone knocks on the door.)
Myself: Could you get that please?
Smuthers: (complying with a look of bewilderment) Yes?
Staff Person: Hotel Staff. (Smuthers looks back at me for guidance.)
Myself: Let him in. (Enter staff person.)
Staff Person: If you need to stay for another month, we can extend your lease.
Myself: No thanks. Nothing against the building or management. This location is too crowded for me.
Staff Person: Okay. Come see us to get your security deposit back at the end of the month.
Myself: Thanks, Bill. (Exit staff.)
Smuthers: Is that all you needed me for?
Myself: Why don't you stick around and see what happens? Don't be so lazy.
(Commercial.)
(Smuthers and I play backgammon.)
Smuthers: It's your turn.
Myself: Could you roll the dice for me?
Smuthers: Tsk! (She rolls.) Seven. What's gotten into you today?
Myself: It might be more precise to ask what's gotten out of me. I feel so drained. For twenty years they've been milking my life for all it's worth and look where they leave me. And now some people think I'm old. But I wasn't old twenty years ago when they first started stealing my work and cashing it in behind my back. It's so demotivating.
Smuthers: God will put it right.
Myself: In this life or the next?
Smuthers: Either way, you win.
Myself: Maybe in this universe. But I wonder if there isn't some parallel universe out there where that band that ripped me off got to play on that show that ripped me off while I was subjected to unspeakable tortures in jail and everyone cheered; and as soon as I got out of jail, I killed myself and went to Hell for it. Do you know what they had people calling that creep who stole all my music? Jesus! Jesus, for Christ's sake! Makes me wonder about the kind of monsters who commit such crimes. I wonder if Satan promoted them out of Hell to a fleeting position of influence in this world, with the goal of dragging as many souls as possible back down to Hell with them. Jack the Ripper admitted that he was from Hell, you know.
Smuthers: You sound depressed. Do you want your medication?
Myself: That would be nice.
(Smuthers gets up and pulls a box of Captain Crunch out of the cupboard. She prepares a bowl of the cereal and hands it to me.)
Myself: Thank you. (A knock at the door.) Sigh! Could you get that please?
(Smuthers goes over and opens the door.)
Cleaning Lady: Cleaning lady. (Smuthers turns to me.)
Myself: (between bites) That's all right, Margarita. No mess here. When you got nothing, you got nothing to clean.
--------------------------------------------
Commercial: The Hot Seat
(A warehouse. Two workers busy themselves in front of their supervisor.)
Supervisor: We need this place shipshape and bristol fashion by lunch. I'll leave you to it. (Exit supervisor.)
Worker #1: I thought he'd never leave. (He sits down and stretches his legs.) Aaah!
Worker #2: Hey, that's not fair!
Worker #1: I'll cover for you next time.
Worker #2: I don't want cover. I want help.
(Product shot resembling a heating coil.)
Announcer: Tired of holding up the team? Get them up off their asses with the Hot Seat.
(Worker #2 happily fits Worker #1's empty chair with the product.)
Announcer: Easy to install and handled by remote control, the Hot Seat can make sitting down a bad decision in any chair.
(The warehouse a few days later.)
Worker #1: Time to relax… Do you smell something burning?
(The fire alarm goes off, drawing the supervisor to the scene.)
Supervisor: Where's that smoke coming from? Oh it's you! Who made this chair a Hot Seat?
Worker #2: (holding remote control behind his back) Not me.
Supervisor: Well if you can stand to sit on that, we have a place for you in the office. Come with me. (Exit Worker #1 and Supervisor.)
Announcer: The Hot Seat. Burning for you.
--------------------------------------------
Myself: What do you think of the show so far?
Smuthers: I think it sucks. You should have put on a repeat instead of this.
Myself: Which one isn't already a repeat?
Smuthers: There's no theme.
Myself: That is the theme.
Smuthers: No guests.
Myself: What do you call Bill and Margarita?
Smuthers: Yes, but you need three guests.
Myself: New format. The number of guests is no longer fixed.
Smuthers: But you always have three guests.
Myself: Coincidence.
Smuthers: And there isn't enough humour. In fact, it's a little depressing.
Myself: Mental illness can be contagious, you know. I think I got mine from the guy down the hall.
Smuthers: You know, Dave, I hate to say it but this show is kind of… (She hesitates to complete the sentence.)
Myself: Kind of what? Don't leave me in suspense.
Smuthers: Kind of half-assed.
Myself: What did you just say?
Smuthers: Kind of -
Myself: (making her wince) I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID! So that's my reward for twenty years of impossible hardships! I give out everything in my heart just to end up with an assistant that calls me half-assed! Take it back!
Smuthers: Calm down!
Myself: Take it back, I said! (I slide open the window and hang outside by my hands on the ledge, making Smuthers scream.) Take it back! Take it back!
Smuthers: All right, I take it back! The show is not half-assed! Now get back in here!
Myself: Can you help? (She pulls me back to safety and I lie back down on my cot.) You didn't have to say it, you know, if you didn't really mean it.
Smuthers: I meant it, Dave. What you may lack in humour on rare occasions, you more than make up for with drama.
(Commercial.)
|
|
|
|
|
No comments:
Post a Comment