sometimes it's best never to ask: A 1-minute play

slowly, a man dressed in a black pinstripe suit and a baseball cap sporting an esso logo enters the stage, taking 50 seconds to get from stage left to stage right


Those are my peanuts! Hands off tough guy! Go away! Go! Go away and leave me! Leave me! Leeeave meeeeeeee! Leave me! Go! Alone! All alone. Leeeeeeave Meeeeeeeee! Forget our past. Just go. Go! Go! They are my peanuts! Mine!! No one else may touch them. No one I tell you! No one!

a callous look is given down at his own groin


No one.


exit

Rrrrromanticism: A No-Act Play

Dramatis Personae

Apuleius, a Romantic.
Lord D–, another Romantic. They might be lovers.
William De G–, who knows? Apparently a third Romantic, but that mysterious cape covers much of his identity.
Randomly Created Just For the Sake of an Ending and Therefore Ultimately Pointless Musician, a musician.
Various Musicians, filler roles for bad actors between food service jobs.

SCENE 1

On top of a hill, early morning. Birds sing from a tree, a dog rests at the base. Apuleius sits opposite, writing in a folio. From the other side of the hill Lord D– enters carrying a cane.

LORD D: You have picked a very beautiful tree under which to write. What are you composing?

APULEIUS: Words, words, words.

LORD D: You know, I think that’s been done before. Your readers would appreciate something a little more original. You do have to think about them, you know.

APULEIUS: I’m not going to worry about them now. I don’t care what they think. What the hell do they know anyway? I’m the artist, not them. If they were so smart, they would be the ones publishing.

LORD D: True enough, vicious rabble. You know, my last book only made it into its seventeenth edition.

APULEIUS: They didn’t understand you. My Notes From Salisbury was stopped after its twelfth. But I think this one here is genius. I’m reflecting on the hedgerows – natural barriers, they are!

LORD D: Nice premise.

APULEIUS: It is impossible that this one is going to fail with the publisher.

LORD D: Your father didn’t particularly like your last book, Ode to Childhood. Except for the scene where he and you were boxing in the servants’ quarters.

APULEIUS: Well, he is the person who made me deaf in one ear. And anyway, I hardly touched the girl.

LORD D: She did produce a child for you. By and by, where is he now?

APULEIUS: Last I heard he had gone to join a war or something. Byron took many of my household with him the day he came by the manor.

LORD D: That bastard was a born leader. His pilgrimage took four of my servants with him as well. (Feeling around, he leans against the tree and listens) So, do you not hear the glorious song coming from this tree?

APULEIUS: Aye I do, but it sounds faint. When I look to my left at the sunset, I can hear it. When the sun is out of view, there is no song. The faintness of the song does allow me a more unique inspiration does it not?

LORD D: ‘Tis a shame, the birds in this tree are magnificent.

APULEIUS: There is only one bird in the tree.

LORD D: Nay, three. The others are to your right.

APULEIUS: (Looking up into the tree) Damn it all! That decimates my aesthetics after the third verse! (Scratching out the remaining verses)

LORD D: So much for inspiration.

APULEIUS: Don’t you talk to me of inspiration! I seem to remember during one of your trips to Prussia that you got lost in the forest for three days chasing a butterfly.

LORD D: It had the most beautiful of patterns on its wings. Reminded me of the mists of Avalon.

APULEIUS: There never was an Avalon.

LORD D: Herectic!

APULEIUS: You were still lost in Mallory and de Troyers, I think. And what the hell do you know anyhow? You are as blind as a fucking mole at the best of times.

LORD D: Well yes, but I could feel the creature’s beauty. Some things go beyond the sense.

APULEIUS: True enough. Weren’t you receiving a spiritual aid, however?

LORD D: Actually, I did have a copious amount of mushrooms in my belly. I think that it was Percy’s hashish that really helped me to navigate the forest.

APULEIUS: I find that my soul is best served when I have my Virgil beside me. One time after I read about the underworld, I went out into my garden and saw spirits in my perennials. My creative potency returned to full strength after staring at one of my roses for six hours.

LORD D: Isn’t that always the case with roses? How Freudian. (sits beside Apuleius)

APULEIUS: What are you talking about?

LORD D: I don’t know. I was just babbling and it came out.

APULEIUS: It sounds as though you are well ahead of your time.

LORD D: Do you know what else has let my quill flow? (dramatic pause) Absinthe!

APULEIUS: Once again, you a re a few years too early, I think.

LORD D: (picking up a sheet of Apuleius’s folio) It has yellowed. Are you striving for the aged look. Oh precious antiquity! Perhaps a lost manuscript? A newly-found Boethius? A (pause) Homer?

APULEIUS: Nay. My dog felt that he needed to express himself.

LORD D: I always feel as though I were from another age. As if my destiny were entwined with that of another from years past, perhaps even Odysseus himself. (jumps up quickly) Wait! (pause) I’m feeling the deepest of inspirations! (runs off into the forest, colliding with several trees in the process)

APULEIUS: Finally I am rid of him. A corrupting influence, he is. Now I may return to my work. (stares at a small flower by his feet as several minutes pass)

SCENE 2

A library. Several books are scattered about the floor. Apuleius sits reading. Lord D– enters followed by De G–, who is wearing a long cape. The narrator is forced to smirk with contempt.

LORD D: My Lord Apuleius. How goes your study?

APULEIUS: (starting) D–! I didn’t hear your admittance.

LORD D: Well then allow me to further introduce to you one of the most eminent man of letters of this generation or any other, a genius beyond measure, and a man for all seasons! William De G–, here in your very presence! (De G– bows slightly) I have brought him here to read your new work.

APULEIUS: Very kind of you, and Monsieur De G–, I am honoured. I was moved to tears by your Fall of Encolpius. What pain! What suffering. What need for lubrication!

LORD D: Indeed a watershed and a glorious triumph of the English language.

APULEIUS: Here is my folio. Please do not hesitate to critique it as you will.

LORD D: I am positive that you will only benefit from De G–‘s opinions. It was from him that I learned how to transcend mere description and use words to touch the face of God.

(De G– reads through the folio, nodding at various times)

APULEIUS: See, I knew this work would have a mark! It was a glorious month for me, as I felt prodigiously creative.

LORD D: Hold your thoughts for a second and let De G– finish. (After a few pauses during which he continues to nod ever more violently, De G– hands the folio to Apuleius. He ponders for a few moments, steadying his chin between his thumb and forefinger, then grabs a large pendant from around his neck and opens it. He pulls out a piece of paper and begins to write, while nodding to himself)

APULEIUS: Ha! Look! He is himself inspired to write! I think that my present work shall be my masterpiece, and a hallmark for future generations of under...um...graduates.

LORD D: Future what? Do you predict radical social change? A utopia run by these under...graduates, whose language and beauty shall enlighten all of humanity? Keep this future to yourself for the time being. In truth, De G– is writing his own opinions to you. (De G– hands the paper to Apuleius)

APULEIUS: What is this?

LORD D: Did you not know De G– is a mute?

APULEIUS: No I did not! (begins to read) And what is the meaning of this writing? Is this man truly touched by the gods?

LORD D: (examining the paper) Ah, well you must understand that in addition to being mute, De G– also suffers from spiritual possession which inspires all of his life’s work.

APULEIUS: This note looks as though it had been written by a constipated donkey.

LORD D: The spirits touch De G– by means of chronic, uncontrollably violent muscle spasms. Well, every true artist must develop his own unique style. I think that his spasmodic contractions add a great primitivism to his work, like a noble savage.

(De G– continues to nod uncontrollably)

SCENE 3

Feeling an almost total revulsion at the presumption and futility of the previous scene, the narrator ends it. Presently, Apuleius and Lord D– sit by the side of a lake observing the mists rising. De G– stands over them, the nodding of his head providing what, for our two protagonists, is a pleasing contrapuntal element to the scene in front of them.

LORD D: Beauty is everywhere, is it not?

APULEIUS: Aye. But despite the lucidity of the scene before me, my mind is elsewhere.

LORD D: Oh, another love? Christ, who is it this time?

APULEIUS: Lady Hamilton. She has captivated my heart. I do not think that I can continue without her.

LORD D: Nor should you.

APULEIUS: Those graceful hands that I need to clasp. Her luscious lips that I wish to kiss that ehy may provide me with such a delightful fever. Her cascading hair! And those breasts!

LORD D: Yes, much will be written about Lady Hamilton’s breasts.

APULEIUS: I wrote to her several Odes, encased in a velvet sleeve with pressed roses on its cover.

LORD D: She didn’t buy your ruse, did she?

APULEIUS: Nay. She told me that she thought I just wanted to fuck her.

LORD D: Women just do not have the capacity to understand true love.

APULEIUS: Well, she did allow me a quick lay.

LORD D: Quick?

(quick??)

APULEIUS: Well, I certainly cannot control the outpouring of my emotions! You really can’t restrain yourself, can you? That’s not very creative.

LORD D: I am sure that she appreciated your artistic integrity. (pause)

APULEIUS: I am a man in love as much as Ovid.

LORD D: You know, I don’t think that the poor can ever trule fall in love. How can they when they cannot even afford books? (long pause) Sometimes I think that God does not really know where it is going with all of this. (waves his hand in an extravagant gesture)

APULEIUS: What do you mean?

LORD D: It all seems so random, doesn’t it? So arbitrary. As though there really was no master plan. That God was really just writing what it felt like writing without thinking things though a little further.

APULEIUS: I agree.

(De G– hands Lord D– a note)

LORD D: So does De G–. He says that there really isn’t a God after all, that life is purely chance. God would provide proof if it really exis–

SCENE 4

Lightning strikes a tree, which then falls onto Lord D–, killing him instantly. It is a magnificent scene.

SCENE 5

Apuleius sitting opposite De G– by the lake.

APULEIUS: What the hell was the point of that? I guess that you are right, De G–.

(De G– nods, perhaps in accordance. They stare at each other for several minutes. Growing increasingly bored, the audience decides to vacate the theatre)

APULEIUS: Well, do you think that’s our cue?

(De G– nods)

APULEIUS: Alright, how do you want to do this, then?

(De G– begins drawing on a sheet of paper from his pendant, then hands it to Apuleius)

APULEIUS: Well, that should work. Do you have any rope?

(The narrator, having blown his cover with the whole lightning incident in the fourth scene, spontaneously creates two lengths of rope and places them beside De G–. The two climb up a tree and begin to tie the ropes to one of the tree branches, and then around their necks)

APULEIUS: This is not in vain, my friend. Our deaths will be studied for years to come. THIS is art! (Apuleius hurls himself from the tree and hangs himself. De G– follows, but their combined weight snaps the tree branch. He remains prostrate on the ground, shaking uncontrollably. After a few seconds he sits up and writes a note, leaves it on the ground, stands up nodding his head, and slowly exits)

...

(The note: well, there isn’t an audience anymore, so what the fuck. A troupe of travelling musicians enters into the scene. One of them finds the note beside Apuleius’s body and reads it)

RANDOMLY CREATED JUST FOR THE SAKE OF AN ENDING AND THEREFORE ULTIMATELY POINTLESS MUSICIAN: It just says: “I couldn’t even do this properly!” Poor soul. Must have been one of those Romantics. (Exit. The narrator can no longer withstand the blunt satire of his narrative, so...)

END

The Tragical History of the Death of Perseus, Son of Zeus -- a one act play

Dramatis Personae

Spirit of Perseus
Hades, Lord of the Underworld
Persephone, wife of Hades and Queen of the Underworld
Spirit of Medusa, a gorgon
Spirit of Acrisius, King of Larissa
Hermes, god and escort
Chorus, the souls of the dead [naked and pale, they stand unmoving]

Scene – Cavern of the Underworld; throne room of Hades and Persephone, who sit upon black stone surrounded by the Chorus.

[Enter Spirit of Perseus, led by Hermes]

HERMES: Lord Hades, Lady Persephone, I bear greetings and a suppliant – Perseum, son of Zeus and liberator of Ethiopia. Lord Zeus has decreed that you grant him audience.

HADES: Greetings, Lord Hermes. Your coming was not unexpected. We have already decided to grant audience to the son of Zeus.

HERMES: Zeus conveys his gratitude.

HADES: Bear my tidings to my brother, lord of the above-worlds, and tell him that Perseus’s words will reach our ears. [Exit Hermes] Greetings to you Perseus. Your deeds are known throughout the world above, and are not unknown to us as well. Tales of your great lineage – conceived by Zeus to the maiden Danae – as well as your childhood at Seriphos have been well told since. Your trials with the Grey Women and the Gorgons have passed the lips of many men. Your slaying of the serpent and rescuing of fair Andromeda will be remembered in Ethiopia long after it becomes a forgotten country itself. You have asked for our audience, and it has been granted. Now speak.

PERSEUS: King Hades, Queen Persephone, on my knees I greet you.

PERSEPHONE: You merely need to speak your mind. You do not need to entreat yourself before us.

PERSEUS: I wish that your lordships will grant me a favour. My wife Andromeda is without child. Yet many suitors wish to claim her and would then claim my bloodline. I do not wish to be forgotten.

PERSEPHONE: Such mortal affairs concern us little.

HADES: His wish may yet be granted however, provided that it conforms with my established order.

PERSEUS: I wish to be returned to the above-world to provide my wife with child and care for them until he is grown to manhood. I wish to be again among the living.

PERSEPHONE: Intolerable.

HADES: Such has occurred only once before. The balladeer Orpheus entered my world and led the soul of his love Eurydice to the overlands only to lose her to his mistrust.

PERSEPHONE: He had caused the Furies to weep. They did not forgive him.

HADES: Such will happen again. Yet I do not wish it to occur at this moment.

PERSEUS: [kneeling] I beg your mercy, O Lord of the Under-realm! My life was so full of deeds and yet my death was so tragic.

HADES: Tragic? Your death was a mere pittance when brought in relation to the tragic ends you gave unto others. Son of Zeus, meet the consequences of your heroism.

[Enter Spirit of Acrisius, hands bound in chains to his feet]

ACRISIUS: Hail, my daughter’s son, my murderer.

PERSEUS: Hail to you, once-king. Although I did not kill you intentionally, I do not regret or grieve for having done so.

ACRISIUS: Such words are to be expected from one such as you, my fated killer.

PERSEUS: I have no sympathy for you, you who wished me dead. You who sent your own daughter with me a babe in her arms to a watery prison. May the gods bless sweet Dictys who saved us from our confinement. After such abandonment I cannot place the remorse of your death upon my shoulders.

ACRISIUS: How was I to act otherwise? It had been prophesied that you would kill me. One cannot leave oneself to fate without acting upon it. Thus I tried to abandon you. Yet you struck me down, not in combat but from afar by a toss of a discus. And for my deeds I must wear these chains which bind me from further action. Such patience, such a ploy. Would that the Furies have had the power to act upon my murderer. Yet too late, you arrive here by other means. So be it. My blood remains on your hands. May the gods be merciful in the Underworld as they had been during your living travels. I leave you with your guilt. [Exit]

PERSEUS: Fool! I will not listen to his ravings.

PERSEPHONE: The mortal’s comportment does not endeavour me to his cause.

HADES: Let us yet see how he composes himself with this next one.

[Enter Spirit of Medusa (seen in human form, as prior to her transformation into a gorgon)]

MEDUSA: I greet you, my slayer. Forgive me for not thanking you for aiding me in my return to my former beauty. Such acts of heroism were not requested or appreciated.

PERSEUS: It was not my intention to aid one such as you. My actions were to save my mother from the tyrant Polydectes. It was he who wanted your head, so I did as was required.

MEDUSA: Such a noble act! Would that you had hidden your pride and shown your bravery, you could have risen to action against him yourself. Yet you requred me as a sacrifice.

PERSEUS: You were a dreaded monster fit to be killed!

MEDUSA: I was one among three who desired merely to exist! I had not slighted you in any way, nor had any intention to do so. You did not even have the presence to face me in combat. Killed from above while asleep, aided by the gods. The cap of darkness which shielded you from my sisters was proof of your cowardice.

PERSEUS: It was through my bravery that you were slain and Ethiopia was saved.

MEDUSA: Such boasts! You have done no more than any other man when aided by the gods.

PERSEUS: I was chosen to be a hero among men, thus befitting the gifts from the gods. You were fated to be killed by my hand and mine alone.

MEDUSA: Enough! You remain ignorant and cowardly hide yourself behind your false identity. May you suffer twice as Tityus among the vultures! [Exit]

PERSEPHONE: He has now offended both of them.

HADES: Perhaps now you may reconsider your nature. Once considered the saviour of men you are now one among many. You do not appeal yourself to us anymore than the countless other souls who have entered my realm. You will however be granted one boon. You may return to your lady Andromeda for one hour. Zeus will aid you to plant your seed within her while she sleeps. Then you will return to the Underdark not knowing your son. He will indeed grow to manhood and beget a powerful family. His grandson will truly become what you could not – first among men. When you return, you will accept your death as others have.

PERSEUS: Such therefore is my fate. I thank you My Lord and Lady. [Exit]

PERSEPHONE: He has now accepted his fate.

HADES: Indeed, yet his bloodline will continue along the paths he has trodden. Were it not Zeus’s will I would have not allowed his wish. His kin will cause future strife within my realm.

PERSEPHONE: So be it. The name of Perseus will not be forgotten. [Exeunt]

CHORUS: Please grace us to understand,
We have no meaning to offend,
With known tales we cannot contend,
Such knowledge is not yet at hand.

Old wrongs needed to be set aright,
Such creations needed to be told,
Now fitting with stories of old,
We bid you a fair and goodnight. [Exeunt]