THE HEIST

BRIEF SYNOPSIS: A young couple shows up unexpectedly at a friend’s house with a bag of  jewelry they have stolen – or have they?

SETTING: An apartment in the city

CHARACTERS: 2 men and 1 woman in their late 20s

ALFRED & KRISTI, a couple

JEREMY, their friend

SCENE: Lights up on an apartment interior. JEREMY is seated in an arm chair, reading a book. Loud knocking. JEREMY gets up, goes off stage right, opens front door. ALFRED and KRISTI enter quickly, out of breath. JEREMY follows. ALFRED is carrying a small sack, which he drops on the sofa.

JEREMY: Hey, guys. What’s going on?

KRISTI: We need a place to hide out.

JEREMY: Hide out from what?

KRISTI: From the police. Just in case somebody called them.

ALFRED: Which I’m sure they didn’t.

JEREMY: What did you do, rob a bank?

ALFRED: Not exactly, Jer. We stole some stuff.

JEREMY: What kind of stuff?

ALFRED: A few trinkets.

KRISTI: Geegaws.

ALFRED: Bijoux.

JEREMY: Jewelry? You stole jewelry? Yeah, right.

ALFRED: Right.

KRISTI: Yeah, right.

JEREMY: [incredulous and playing along] Just like Bonnie and Clyde, huh?

ALFRED: That’s right. And now we’re thirsty.

KRISTI: Yeah, robbery gives you a great thirst.

JEREMY: How about a coupla beers?

ALFRED: Sounds good.

JEREMY exits stage left. ALFRED and KRISTI sit on the sofa side by side and look at the stuff in the sack. JEREMY enters with the beer.

JEREMY: [still incredulous and playing along as he hands round the bottles of beer] So what was it, a smash-and-grab?

ALFRED: Not exactly. We’ve got more style than that.

KRISTI: More like Angelina and Brad.

ALFRED: [laughing and starting to relax] It was sweet.

JEREMY:  Do tell.

ALFRED: Well, we’ve been planning it for a while, and –

KRISTI: Let me tell it, Alf.

ALFRED: Okay, Kris. You tell it. [Takes a swig from his bottle of beer]

KRISTI: First, we “cased the joint,” as they say, for about a month.

JEREMY: Of course. I’d expect no less from a couple of pros.

KRISTI: Are you being facetious?

JEREMY: Please continue.

KRISTI: Well, we went in about once a week looking at engagement rings.

JEREMY: Are you guys getting married?

ALFRED: Shut up, Jeremy. Just listen, will ya?

JEREMY: Sorry.

KRISTI: As I was saying, we went in about once a week, pretending to be looking for an engagement ring. And I didn’t like anything I saw. I was pretending to be really hard to please.

ALFRED: Which didn’t take much pretending.

KRISTI: [laughs] True. I have very high standards, as you both know. In any case, they had some really fine stones, but I put on this act, you know, like none of them was good enough for me, like I was a real stuck-up bitch who had to have the best diamond money could buy, money being no impediment, you see.

JEREMY: I get the picture.

KRISTI: Good. Well, we went in week after week like I said and we always had the same sales clerk. We got to know him pretty well, you see, on account of we refused to be served by anybody else.

ALFRED: [beaming] That was Kristi’s idea. Pretty sharp. huh?

JEREMY: Yup, pretty damn sharp. I’ve got to hand it to you, Kristi, you are one sharp operator.

KRISTI: I don’t like your tone. You’re being facetious again.

JEREMY: Sorry. Please tell me the rest.

KRISTI: [sulkily] No. I won’t say another word.

ALFRED: Ah, c’mon, honey. Jeremy didn’t mean anything.

KRISTI: The hell he didn’t. He’s never thought I was very smart.

ALFRED: Okay, then, I’ll tell it.

KRISTI: If you do then I’m leaving. [gets up, grabs the sack and starts to exit]

ALFRED: Hey! Where are you going with the loot, honey?

KRISTI: I’ll find another place to lay low.

ALFRED: [getting up quickly and grabbing hold of the sack] Not with this you don’t.

KRISTI: I have as much right to it as you do. Maybe more. I was the one who got Mitch to play along, wasn’t I?

JEREMY: Who’s Mitch?

ALFRED: [still holding onto the sack] Maybe so, but I took plenty of risks at my end, so we split it 50-50, right here and now, and then you can go wherever you like.

[ALFRED and KRISTI both pull at the sack and the contents fall to the floor. All three stand staring down at the jewels for a beat.

JEREMY: My God, you really did steal some jewels.

[ALFRED and KRISTI ignore JEREMY as they divide up the “loot”and put it into their pockets. JEREMY paces in agitation and drinks his beer.

ALFRED: Okay, that should settle it.

KRISTI: I think you got a little more than I did, sweetie.

ALFRED: I think you’re wrong about that. It was fair, fair and square. Do you want to do it again?

KRISTI: Yeah. Show me what you’ve got.

ALFRED: You mean you don’t trust me? You really don’t trust me? Tell me you don’t trust me. Just tell me straight out that you don’t trust me and we’ll do it over again.

KRISTI: I don’t trust you.

ALFRED: I can’t believe it. After all we’ve been through. I just can’t believe it.

JEREMY: Uh, guys, I hate to interrupt but I think you should leave right away, before the police find you.

ALFRED: Why should they find us here? Why would they look for us here, in this particular neighborhood, at this particular address?

JEREMY: I don’t know, but someone might have spotted you coming in.

ALFRED: So? What of it? We weren’t followed. We got away clean.

JEREMY: How can you be sure?

ALFRED: I’m sure.

JEREMY: Well, I’m not. And I’m just not comfortable with this whole situation, Alf.  Please try to understand.

KRISTI: He’s not comfortable, so let’s go. Let’s get the hell out of here. I didn’t want to come here in the first place, and I sure as hell don’t want to stay of he’s not comfortable.

ALFRED: Where are we going to go?

KRISTI: I dunno, but I want to go somewhere else.

JEREMY: I’d appreciate it. I really don’t want to get mixed up in this and, like I said, someone may have seen you coming in.

ALFRED: Okay, we’ll go, but I think we should wait until it’s dark.

KRISTI: It is dark.

ALFRED: Not dark enough.

JEREMY: How dark does it have to be? What, do you want the city to turn off the street lights?

ALFRED: Could you arrange that?

JEREMY: [facetiously] Yeah, sure, just let me make a phone all.

ALFRED: Ha ha. Well, then we’ll need to change our clothes.

JEREMY: Are you serious?

ALFRED: Do you have something I could wear? An old jacket maybe or a sweatshirt with a hood.

JEREMY: I guess you’re serious. Okay, fine, I find you something.

KRISTI: What about me?

ALFRED: Yeah, what about her?

JEREMY: Okay, I’ll find something for her too. Something girlie that one of my girlfriends left here. [He exits, stage left]

KRISTI: Jeremy’s turned into a jerk.

ALFRED: He’s really okay. Don’t sweat it.

KRISTI:  I’m sorry, Alf.

ALFRED: Yeah, well . . .

KRISTI: I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I know you’d never try to cheat me.

[They embrace, kiss, get sexually excited.

KRISTI: I wonder what’s taking Jeremy so long?

ALFRED: Yeah, I don’t like this. Maybe he’s calling the cops.

KRISTI: You think he’d do that?

ALFRED: [with a chuckle] I wouldn’t put it past him.

[They kiss again.

ALFRED: I never thought playing the part of a jewel thief could get me so excited.

KRISTI: Me neither. It beats staying home and watching a movie.

ALFRED: Yup. C’mon. Let’s get outta here.

KRISTI: Where are we going?

ALFRED: To the nearest hotel.

[They exit stage right in a hurry, slamming the front door closed as JEREMY enters with an armful of old clothes.

JEREMY: Here you go, guys. [looks around] Guys? They’re gone. Gone for good, I hope. That’s a relief. [shrugs] Well, I might as well take these to Goodwill. [drops the old clothes in a pile on the floor] First thing tomorrow. But right now I think I’ll have a good strong drink.

[JEREMY exits stage left. Lights come down to BLACKOUT.

A STRANGE WOMAN

a ten-minute play by A. S. Maulucci

TIME: the present

PLACE: The living room of large house in an affluent neighborhood of a major metropolitan city.

CHARACTERS: JOHN, a distinguished-looking middle-aged man dressed in a well-tailored business suit and carrying a slim leather briefcase. WOMAN, a very attractive 30-something, slim, slightly athletic, very sexy, wearing designer jeans and a loose blouse.

SCENE: As the lights come up we see the WOMAN pacing languorously across the room. Her movements are cat-like. Her manner throughout the play is sexy and seductive. After a few moments, JOHN enters. The WOMAN and JOHN stand regarding each other in silence for a few beats.

JOHN: Who are you? How did you get in here?

WOMAN: Aren’t you happy to see me?

JOHN: How could I be? I don’t know who you are.

WOMAN: Don’t you? How can you be sure?

JOHN: I’ve never seen you before in my life. Where is my wife?

WOMAN: Do not worry. She is safe. No harm will come to her.

JOHN: What are you doing here?

WOMAN: I am here for you, John.

JOHN: What do you mean? And how do you know my name?

WOMAN: Don’t you know? You have conjured me up. Like a genii from a bottle.

JOHN: Don’t be ridiculous. Is this some kind of scam? Some new kind of home invasion?

WOMAN: It is you who will be taking control of me, and not the other way around.

JOHN: Are you crazy? What kind of nonsense is this?

WOMAN: I assure you, it will all make perfect sense . . . after a while.

[JOHN takes out his cell phone and begins to make a call.

WOMAN: Who are you calling, John?

JOHN: Who do you think? The police.

WOMAN: That would be a foolish mistake. Don’t you want to hear what I have to say?

JOHN: Not really.

WOMAN: I think you do.

JOHN: Why should I?

WOMAN: Because you’ll find me fascinating once you get to know me.

JOHN: What a crock! Would you please get out of my house. Where’s my wife? What have you done with her?

WOMAN: I will tell you everything you want to know, in due time. But first I want to get to know you a little.

JOHN: This is absurd. You are a strange woman.

WOMAN: Really? In what way? [pause] Why don’t you pour us a drink?

JOHN: Looks like you’ve had quite enough already.

WOMAN: I swear to you I haven’t had a drop since I got here.

JOHN: When did you get here?

WOMAN:  A little while before you did.

JOHN: And just where did you come from?

WOMAN: In due time, John. In due time you will know everything you wish to know. Now why don’t you relax and fix us a drink?

JOHN: Where are the others?

WOMAN: The others?

JOHN: Your confederates. The other members of your gang. Are they lurking around the house? Are they hiding upstairs or down in the basement?

WOMAN: There are no others, John. There is only me.

JOHN: Well you must be working with someone else. Someone else has taken my wife away.

WOMAN: Why do you say that? Perhaps she left of her own free will.

JOHN: She wouldn’t do a thing like that.

WOMAN: How little you know her. In fact it took very little to persuade her.

JOHN: You must be putting me on.

WOMAN: You know best.

JOHN: I don’t like being patronized.

WOMAN: What is it you do like, John?

JOHN: What business is that of yours?

WOMAN: You like being admired. You like your job.

JOHN: Yeah, so what?

WOMAN: You like the feeling of power it gives you, being your own boss, having people working under you, giving commands, having your orders obeyed by your staff.

JOHN: What’s wrong with that?

WOMAN: Nothing, John, absolutely nothing. I too like feeling powerful and in control.

JOHN: I bet you do. And you get that feeling from playing with guys like me, is that it?

WOMAN: As you wish. Only I’m not afraid to let go once in a while. I don’t mind being submissive on occasion, with the right man.

JOHN: Oh, I see. You get your kicks from showing up in some stranger’s house and playing the woman of mystery. Your life must be pretty boring if you have to spice it up like that.

WOMAN: What’s wrong with a little spice now and then?

JOHN: I don’t like mind games. I don’t like being manipulated. Now if you would kindly tell me where my wife went to so I could get on with my evening. I’ve had a hard day, and I don’t need the aggravation.

WOMAN: She went for a long walk with the dogs.

JOHN: I doubt it. We don’t have any dogs.

WOMAN: She went for a drive.

JOHN: I think I saw her car in the garage when I came home.

WOMAN: What difference does it make? Like I told you, she is safe; no harm will come to her.

JOHN: Why should I trust you?

WOMAN: I don’t know. But what choice do you have?

JOHN: I’m calling the police.

WOMAN: That would be a terrible mistake.

JOHN: So you said. But maybe I should take the chance.

WOMAN: You are an intelligent man, John. You are a strong and calculating man. But more to the point, you are a man who likes to take risks, are you not?

JOHN: Just what are you getting at?

WOMAN: You and me, John. Or more specifically, you. I am trying to get at you.

JOHN: What for?

WOMAN: For your own good.

JOHN: Don’t give me that crap. You want something. You want money. Okay, how much? It’ll be worth it to get rid of you and get my wife back.

WOMAN: I don’t want your money, John.

JOHN: I’m getting tired of this. Like I told you, I don’t like games. Now suppose you tell me just what it is you want and then get the hell out of here.

WOMAN: But this IS what I want, John.

JOHN: What do you mean?

WOMAN: What I want is to be here with you.

JOHN: Are you out of your mind? This is my private life. You can’t just pop up in here and spend time with me whenever you want.

WOMAN: Why not? Isn’t that every man’s fantasy? To come home to a strange woman, a different woman every night.

JOHN: Maybe some men, but it’s not mine.

WOMAN: Why not?

JOHN: I like consistency.

WOMAN: You like life to be predictable.

JOHN: Yes, up to a point. I like a little unpredictability too.

WOMAN: A little excitement?

JOHN: Where is this going?

WOMAN: Where does it always go?

JOHN: You mean into the bedroom?

WOMAN: If that’s what you want.

JOHN: What I want is for you to get yourself out of here.

WOMAN: That’s not going to happen.

JOHN: Oh really? And why not?

WOMAN: Because that’s not really what you want.

JOHN: What if I just pick you up and throw you out on your ass?

WOMAN: You wouldn’t do that.

JOHN: Oh, wouldn’t I? You just watch me.

[JOHN picks up the woman and walks a few steps with her, then puts her down on the sofa and begins kissing her.

WOMAN: Now that’s more like it.

JOHN: Is this what you want? You slut! You dirty little whore!

WOMAN: Yes, this is exactly what I want.

[More kissing. The doorbell rings.

JOHN: That must be my wife.

WOMAN: Tell her to go away.

[More kissing. The doorbell rings again. JOHN stands up.

WOMAN: Can’t you just ignore it? Just this once?

JOHN: It might be important.

WOMAN: But we were having such a good time.

JOHN: I’m expecting a delivery.

WOMAN: You know something, John, that’s the trouble with our marriage. Your damn business always comes first.

BLACKOUT

THE BELLS

A one-act play by A. S. Maulucci

PLACE: A small New England town

TIME: The early 1960s

CHARACTERS: A middle-aged married couple.

MAN is agitated and anguished.                  

WOMAN is calm and somewhat detached.  

Lights up on a bare stage except for a sofa, center. On the sofa a man and a woman are seated. Both are reading. After a few beats we hear a somber staccato church bell ringing in moderately rapid strokes, fading out after a few moments.

MAN: There it goes again. That damn bell. Why are they ringing it?

WOMAN: Dunno.

MAN: There’s got to be a reason for ringing it. Why would they just ring it for no reason?

WOMAN: They’re calling the faithful to God.

MAN: I doubt it. There are no faithful left in this town. Not anymore. And nobody really believes in God.

WOMAN: Maybe somebody died.

MAN: They don’t ring like that when somebody dies.

WOMAN: How would you know?

MAN: I know. They ring them more slowly, sonorously. That’s not a death knell.

WOMAN: A death knell. Yeah. You can always tell when it’s a death knell. It rings the mourners gravely to the graveyard.

MAN: Ha, ha. So why do they keep ringing it? It’s like every fifteen minutes.

WOMAN: [quoting] Ask not for whom the bell tolls . . .

MAN: [slightly annoyed] I’m not asking for whom, I’m asking why.

WOMAN: Why are you irritated with me?

MAN: I’m not. I’m irritated by the bells. I’m irritated by that church. Why did we have to move next to a church?

WOMAN: Why don’t you speak to the high priest, or whatever he’s called?

MAN: A fat lot of good that’d do. I’d rather spit in his face, the old hypocrite.

WOMAN: Well then, we could move.

MAN: I don’t want to move. I like this house.

WOMAN: Well then, stop complaining.

MAN: Don’t they bother you? Don’t the bells get on your nerves?

WOMAN: Not really. I just ignore them. Remember what they did to Quasimodo. Drove him insane. Can’t you do that?

MAN: Do what?

WOMAN: Tune them out.

MAN: No.

WOMAN: That’s a pity.

MAN: What did you say?

WOMAN: I said it’s a pity, a pity you can’t tune them out.

[Silence for a few beats.

WOMAN: They’re just minor nuisance.

MAN: Yes, a nuisance. A major nuisance.

[MAN gets up from the sofa and begins pacing.

WOMAN: What’s the matter?

MAN: Nothing, I’m just a little antsy.

WOMAN: Why don’t you go out for a walk?

MAN: So I can hear the bell ringing over my head?

WOMAN: Go to the park, it’s farther from the church.

MAN: The park at this time of night?

WOMAN: Go to a bar and have a drink then.

MAN: I don’t feel like drinking. And you know I don’t like bars, not anymore, not after . . . what happened with the . . . [sings] ta-ra-ra-boom-di-yay. [pause, more pacing] Why don’t we go away for a while?

WOMAN: All right, we could go next weekend. No, we can’t go next weekend. We have that party to go to on Saturday, and I promise my mother we’d visit her on Sunday.

MAN: That’s just it. That’s just what makes me so restless. All these endless, endless obligations. They’re draining away my strength, my manhood... I just want to get clean away for a while.

WOMAN: What do you mean, “clean away”?

MAN: I mean I want us to just pack up and leave on a moment’s notice without having to say good bye to anyone, without having to tell anyone where we’re going.

WOMAN: Yes, wouldn’t that be nice. But we can’t, of course.

MAN: Why can’t we?

WOMAN: Now you’re talking like an impulsive teenager. You know perfectly well why we can’t.

MAN: You don’t understand me. You simply do not understand. It’s like the idea is getting lost in translation.

WOMAN: Enlighten me.

MAN: I was reading the other day about a couple who sold their house and their cars and just about everything else and hit the road. Just went off to see the world like a couple of gypsy. Why couldn’t we do that?

WOMAN: You told me a moment ago how much you like this house.

MAN: All right, so we rent out the house while we’re away. That way we’ll have a place to come back to when we decide to stop traveling.

WOMAN: Traveling is addictive. You may never want to stop.

MAN: So what does that mean? That we should stay here forever, just stay here in this house, in this town until we keel over and die, and they bury me in the churchyard with the bells ringing a death knell?

WOMAN: Aren’t you getting just a wee bit dramatic?

MAN: I’m serious, damn it! I’m very serious. It’s hitting me like a cold shower. Someday day I’m going go down head first and my last thought will be, “Why didn’t I do what I’ve always wanted to do with my life?” [pause, he grows more agitated] You know I never told you this but something happened at the office that scared me senseless. A couple of months ago a guy collapsed at his desk. He just went out like that. His head hit the top of his desk, bang!

WOMAN: Was he dead?

MAN: No, but he might have died if it hadn’t been for the security guard who gave him CPR. They rushed him to the hospital and he’s all right now.

WOMAN: Who was it?

MAN: I don’t know his name. We never spoke.  But he might have died, then and there. Right there, at his desk. Well, it was very disturbing, I can tell you, and it started me thinking. It could happen to me someday. Just as fast as that. Bang! My head hits the desk and it’s over. I’m gone.

[Silence for a few beats.

WOMAN: You never know.

MAN: Yeah, you’re damn right. You never know.  

[Silence for a few beats.

WOMAN: So that’s why you want to go away?

MAN: Yeah, I want to see the world. All of it.

WOMAN:  All of it?

MAN: All of it. Why the hell not? I want to start over. I want to experience life. I want to be a free man! I’ve found the courage to live and I want a new life.

[Silence for a few beats.

MAN: There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you.

WOMAN: Oh, really? What’s that?

MAN: Did you have a love affair with my best friend before we got married?

WOMAN: I’m shocked. How could you ask such a thing after all these years?

MAN: Because I need to know. True or false?

WOMAN: False. When would I have had a chance?

MAN: I’m sure you could have found an opportunity if you had really wanted to. Ta-ra-ra-boom-di-yay.

WOMAN: You think I’m devious, but I’m not. I’m not in the least devious, not a bit. Well, I’ll be honest. I wanted to, but I never did. That’s the truth. Trust me.

MAN: So our daughter is really my own?

WOMAN: Of course she is. Does that satisfy you?

MAN:  I guess so.

WOMAN: Do you want a divorce?

MAN: No, I want a change. I’m desperate for a change.

WOMAN: Then why don’t you go away?

MAN: Yes. And it’s not because I want to escape from reality.

WOMAN: Okay. When are you leaving?

MAN: You mean when are we leaving, don’t you?

WOMAN: I mean when are you leaving.

MAN: Don’t you want to come with me?

WOMAN: Not really.

MAN: You want to stay here stuck in this boring town?

WOMAN: I’m not bored.

MAN: How could you not be bored? This is a boring town. It’s so boring that I think I’m about to go mad. I want to start over. I want a new life. Ta-ra-ra-boom-di-yay.

WOMAN: Will you stop singing that, please.

MAN: Sorry. It’s stuck in my head.

WOMAN: Well, get it unstuck for goodness sake. [pause] I’m not bored, I tell you.  I like my job. I like our neighbors. I like digging in the garden.

MAN: Our neighbors! Now there’s a pair of idiots. Talk about boring. Do you know what he told me the other day?

WOMAN: No, I can’t imagine. What did he tell you?

MAN: He told me they were building a new bowling alley and he wants to start a league. He asked me to be on his team. Can you believe it! Bowling! My God, I’d rather jump off the Empire State Building.

WOMAN: Now there’s an idea.

MAN: What? I should jump off the Empire State Building?

WOMAN: No, that you should take up sky diving, or hang gliding, or learn how to fly a plane. Do something adventurous like ballooning.

MAN: [with utter disdain] Ballooning? You can’t be serious!

WOMAN: Well, that’s one way to see the world.

MAN: Now you’re mocking me

WOMAN: Sorry. I couldn’t help it.

MAN: Maybe I will go without you. It’d serve you right for being such a boring wife.

WOMAN: Am I boring? Then why do you stay with me?

MAN: I didn’t mean that.

WOMAN: I think you did.

MAN: Well, maybe just for a moment. You made me angry and I guess was just lashing out.

WOMAN: All the same, you spoke honestly. You really meant it. [crushed] You think I’m boring. Maybe if I had lied and told you I had had an affair with your best friend you wouldn’t think I was so boring. Maybe if I told you our daughter isn’t yours . . . 

[MAN sits down on the sofa and tries to put his arms around the WOMAN.

MAN: I only meant it for a moment. I was speaking out of my own frustration, and I take it back.

WOMAN: You can’t take back a thing like that, not if you really meant it.

MAN: Please forgive me. I love you. You are my darling, my heart’s delight, the light of my life. [pause] You are my reason for living.

[The WOMAN softens, relaxes, and the MAN kisses her. While they are kissing we hear the sound of the church bell striking again but this time more slowly, tolling like a death knell.

MAN: [looking out at the audience, in despair] There it goes again. That damn bell! It’s all so boring! We’re going to die of boredom.

WOMAN: Don’t go melodramatic on me. It’s only a figure of speech. Nobody really dies of boredom.

MAN: Yes, they do. They’re dying of boredom all over America.

[The sound of the bell fades out as the lights come down.

BLACKOUT

TWO EDUCATED BUMS

A deserted public park. Early morning. Two homeless middle-aged men. Enter the first man, RICHARD; he rubs his unshaven face and looks around, stretches. The second man, CHARLES, enters. They look at one another.

RICHARD: Hail, your Scruffiness.

CHARLES: Hail.

RICHARD: Did you sleep well?

CHARLES: My back’s a bit stiff.

RICHARD: So’s mine. [pause] And what brings you abroad this morning, Chief Executive?

CHARLES: A matter of some urgency.

RICHARD: And what might that be?

CHARLES: It’s a top corporate secret, my good man. Yes, an executive secret — for the time being, as Julius Caesar was fond of saying.

RICHARD: May one have a tiny tidbit of information pertaining to this matter?

CHARLES: All in good time, all in the goodness of time, as Abraham Lincoln was fond of saying.

RICHARD: So he was, wasn’t he . . .

CHARLES: I have a letter from the vice-president in charge of public relations.

RICHARD: May I see it?

CHARLES: I burned it.

RICHARD: What does he say?

CHARLES: He’s coming for our high-level meeting.

RICHARD: How grand. When?

CHARLES: Soon I imagine.

RICHARD: You mean he didn’t say when exactly?

CHARLES: Not exactly. You know the VP. Likes to be vague. Doesn’t like definite commitments.

RICHARD: Right. Nothing too definite.

CHARLES: That’s his style.

RICHARD: Takes after his father.

CHARLES: In many ways, yes.

RICHARD: Where shall we dine today, Chief?

CHARLES: I’ve been considering a new venue for lunch.

RICHARD: Good, but what about breakfast. I passed a few choice spots on the way to corporate headquarters today.

CHARLES: Did you? Well, let’s not be too hasty. Breakfast is an optional meal.

RICHARD: Yes, mon capitaine, for you it’s optonal. For me it’s de riguer.

CHARLES: ‘Tis a mere gluttonous indulgence, in my view. But if you must glut yourself–

RICHARD: I must.

CHARLES: Then do it with my blessing . . . and with gusto.

RICHARD: I intend to, whenever the occasion presents itself.

CHARLES: Well then, I suppose we must have a wee nosh to keep up our strength for today’s meeting.

RICHARD: That’s the spirit. I can’t function without a good tuck in.

CHARLES: Please remind me again, what is it you do?

RICHARD: Take notes, write letters, manage your agenda . . .

CHARLES: Oh, yes, my agenda. I anticipate a busy one today.

RICHARD: Will anyone be joining us?

CHARLES: Not for breakfast. But there will most likely be a few petitioners, visiting executives, international bankers, corporate dignitaries, sycophants, and the like at our mid-day repast. I am expecting the vice president in charge of international marketing.

RICHARD: Do you think the VP will be joining us then?

CHARLES: Could be. You never can tell with the VP. You know his way. Rather imagines himself a head honcho. And he will be – one day, in his own company. But he’s on his way to our meeting and likely to pop up at any moment. But I’d like to let you in on something of the greatest importance prior to that event.

RICHARD: And what might that be, Chief?

CHARLES: It’s about the VP.

RICHARD:  What about him?

CHARLES: Well, to be honest, and if I can’t be honest with you, then who can I trust?

RICHARD: Exactly.

CHARLES: To be honest, I know he’s not absolutely content to be the VP.

RICHARD: Not happy playing second fiddle?

CHARLES: Not absolutely. Wants to be numero uno. Is just waiting for his opportunity to oust me on my ass, as it were.

RICHARD: Quite.

CHARLES: So something must be done to checkmate him.

RICHARD: A little game, you mean? A clever ruse?

CHARLES: And you’re just the man.

RICHARD: Yes, I am, aren’t I?

CHARLES: Indubitably.

RICHARD: What did you have in mind?

CHARLES: I was hoping you might assist me in the process. After all, you are the creative type.

RICHARD: Indubitably. We could tell him that the corporation is bankrupt.

CHARLES: He wouldn´t believe that. He would ask to see the books.

RICHARD: We could cook the books.

CHARLES: We cooked the books last week. We had nothing else to eat.

RICHARD: You´re right. I forgot about that. Mmm, let me see. Let´s form a phony company and tell him he can be the Chief Executive Officer.

CHARLES: That’s a splendid idea. What sort of company?

RICHARD: How about an import-export business. That way we could send him to someplace in South America and get him out of the way for a while. In the meantime we will move our operation to another city and when he comes back he won´t be able to find us.

CHARLES: That´s brilliant. I’m getting tired of this dump anyway. It would be nice to go far away, someplace by the ocean. Let´s run it by the board at today´s meeting.

RICHARD: But, as you said, the VP might show up for this meeting.

CHARLES: Let´s tell him it´s been rescheduled. So that it will give us more time to make the arrangements.

RICHARD: Excellent.

CHARLES: Okay. Put it into action immediately.

RICHARD: You would authorize that, wouldn’t you?

CHARLES: What do you mean? It sounds like a good idea to me.

RICHARD: You’d trick your own son. You’d do anything to hold on to power. You’re ruthless and, may I add, morally despicable.

CHARLES: How dare you speak to me that way. You’ve been my closest confidant ever since we started this company. And you profited quite nicely, haven´t you? You never complained about your increase in salary and yearly bonuses.

RICHARD: Well, you’re right about that. But ever since we´ve moved out into the open I had a change of heart. Maybe it’s all the fresh air. Maybe it’s seeing people suffer. You might say I’ve discovered I have a heart. I used to think the way you do, every man for himself, greed is the way of the world, grab what you can, make as much money as possble because money is power.

CHARLES: I can´t believe you’re talking this way. I’m shocked that you’ve suddenly and unexpectedly become a man of principles. Isn´t it a little late for that?

RICHARD: Better late than never, as the Buddha said. When I woke up this morning I knew something in me had changed, and I no longer look at the world the same way. And as for you, the world would be better off with one less greedy coorporate executive.

CHARLES: Hah! Do you really think one greedy corporate executive more or less would really matter?

RICHARD: Possibly. Should we find out?

CHARLES: What are you getting at?

RICHARD: We could try it – get rid of you and see what happens.

CHARLES: You can’t be serious.

RICHARD: Can’t I?

CHARLES: Now wait just one minute, Richard. I’m still in charge here.

RICHARD: Like hell you are. You once owned me, body and soul. But out here in the open I’m a free man. Poverty has made me re-evaluate everything I used to hold sacred.

CHARLES: We have no time for soul-searching. Got a lot on the agenda this AM. The company must come first, as always.

RICHARD: Wake up, Charles. There is no company. It’s all an illusion. The company went belly up three years ago. You were tried for embezzlement and acquitted. We were both out of work for a year. You lived on your savings. My savings ran out after a month. Then my wife suported me while I looked for a decent job. Then my wife lost her job. I painted houses for cash in the summer. Then I worked in the hotel casino, then the casino kitchen. Then I was out of work for two years. Lived on unemployment. Then my wife got fed up, threw me out and divorced me. That’s when I came here.

CHARLES: And my wife?

RICHARD: Married someone else.

CHARLES: My son?

RICHARD: Suicide.

[CHARLES has taken a steak knife out of of his pocket and holds it out in front of him as if  about to thrust it into his heart.]

CHARLES: Is this a dagger I see before me?

RICHARD: [snatching away the knife] Now stop that, Charles. That won’t do. Lying across the railroad tracks would work much better.

CHARLES: Railroad tracks? Haven’t seen any around here, have you?

RICHARD: Nope. But there’s an Amtrak line along the shore. The express runs once a day to DC.

CHARLES: That would be perfect. Do you know the schedule?

RICHARD: Nope.

CHARLES: Well, I can’t see myself going that way.

RICHARD: No, not that way.

[pause. 

CHARLES: Things look really bleak, don’t they? I’ve never been this bad off. Never. I’ve worked all my life, ever since I was a boy.

RICHARD: Me too. My first job was delivering newspapers.

CHARLES: I worked as a caddy at the country club every summer.

RICHARD: Our lives have certainly taken a dramatic turn, haven’t they?

CHARLES: They certainly have. [pause] What’ll we do?

RICHARD: Don’t know. [medium long pause] Something will turn up.

CHARLES: Yes, something’s bound to turn up.

[long pause]

CHARLES: What time is the board meeting today?

RICHARD: Eleven.

CHARLES: Did you make arrangements to have lunch served in the board room?

RICHARD: Of course. Prime rib and baked potatoes. Caesar salad. For wine, a choice of Zinfandel or Cabernet Sauvignon. Apple pie and ice cream.

CHARLES: From Francesco’s?

RICHARD: Of course.

CHARLES: Only the best.

RICHARD: Nothing less will do.

CHARLES: Exactly.

[The two men mime sitting down and enjoying a feast.

CHARLES: What a meal! Excellent prime rib.

RICHARD: Very tender.

[long pause.

CHARLES: Did you get a firm commitment from our French distributor?

RICHARD: He’s ninety-five percent there.

CHARLES: What will it take to close the other five percent?

RICHARD: Not sure. We need to come up with something to sweeten the deal.

CHARLES: I’m sure you’ll think of something.

RICHARD: Indubitably.

CHARLES: You’re solid, Richard. I can always count on you.

RICHARD: Everything always looks better on a full stomach.

CHARLES: It certainly does.

The two men regard one another across the “table,” smiles of contentment on their faces, as the lights come down to BLACKOUT.

Copyright 2012 by Anthony S. Maulucci

THE GODDESS COMPLEX

Copyright 2013 by Anthony S. Maulucci

Characters:

TIM, mid 30s

MARIE, 30

APRIL, mid 20s

Place: A major metropolitan city in the U.S.

Time: The present

Scene. The living room of TIM and MARIE’s apartment

MARIE: You promised me you’d never see her again.

TIM: I just bumped into her on the street. I didn’t plan it. It’s not like I called her up and made a date . . . or anything.

MARIE: No, you wouldn’t have done something that.

TIm: Of course not.

MARIE: Okay, fine. So why do you have to tell me?

TIM: Because I invited her up here.

MARIE: You did what?

TIM: Invited her up here.

MARIE: Oh, really? I wish you hadn’t.  I have no desire to meet her.

TIM: You’ll like her, Marie. The two of you will really like each other.

MARIE: I doubt it.

TIM: She’s a sweet person. And we’re friends now.

MARIE: Well, good for you. But I’m not too thrilled about meeting her. I just can’t believe you think I’d want to meet her after all you’ve told me.

TIM: I want the three of us to be friends, Marie.

MARIE: Just one big happy family, huh?

TIM: Now don’t get sarcastic. Give it a chance.

MARIE: Why should I? So you can fatten up your ego? Which, by the way, is fat enough already.

TIM: Now don’t take that attitude. Try to keep an open mind and be reasonable.

MARIE: I don’t want to reasonable. I’m not feeling very reasonable right now.

TIM: Just give her a chance to win you over.

MARIE: I just don’t understand why you had to invite her over here tonight. What got into you?

TIM: Well, we started talking about things, and I happened to mention that we – you and I – had started a business and she seemed interested, so I explained what we do, and, well, she got very excited . . .

MARIE: Excited?

TIM: Well, enthused. Yeah, enthused. That’s a better word.

MARIE: Okay, enthused. Go on.

TIM: She’s been taking one of these personal development seminars. You know, where they help you discover and develop all your creative potential. So she’s all hyped up on herself, and –

MARIE: All hyped on herself, huh? Isn’t that charming. Just what we need around here, another egotist.

TIM: It’s not like that, Marie. That’s not what I mean.

MARIE: Exactly what do you mean? You’re talking about her the same way you were talking about buying an Aston Martin last year.

TIM: It’s not the same thing.

MARIE: I certainly hope not.

TIM: She has a strong ego, but she’s not an egotist.

MARIE: You’ll have to exlain the difference to me sometime. Just as long as she’s not full of herself. I don’t want some babe coming in and spreading herself all over my house.

TIM: She wouldn’t do that. And she’s not a “babe.” Not anymore.

MARIE: We’ll see about that.

[There’s a knock at the door.

TIM: That’s her now.

MARIE: Oh goody.

TIM: Come in!

[APRIL enters. She is wearing a dress and high heels and carries a briefcase.

APRIL: Timmy . . .

TIM: April . . .

[APRIL gives TIM a hug.

APRIL: And you must be Marie.

MARIE: That would be me.

APRIL: I’ve heard so much about you.

MARIE: Likewise.

[The two women shake hands.

APRIL: But I didn’t know you were so beautiful.

MARIE: It’s my little secret.

[Awkward pause.

TIM: Why don’t we sit down. Would anyone like anything to drink?

APRIL: Not just yet. Why don’t we talk business first.

MARIE: Business?

APRIL: Didn’t Timmy tell you?

MARIE: No, Timmy didn’t say anything. He’s such a sly devil sometimes.

TIM: I was just getting to that. Like I said, April just finished a self-help course in how to be the person you were meant to be. Is that what it was called, April?

APRIL: Close. It was called “Be the Goddess You Were Meant to Be.”  The concepts were based on the ideas of Nietzsche and Carl Rogers.

MARIE: How about that.

APRIL: I never knew I could be so fascinating until I took this course.

MARIE: Is that right? How interesting.

APRIL: It’s really given my self-conidence a boost.

MARIE: I’ll bet. Did you need that?

APRIL: Oh, yes. I used to be so insecure. Remember, Timmy? Remember what a push over I was?

TIM: You used to let guys walk all over you.

APRIL: Yeah, I used to just lie down and say, “Do whatever you want with me, boys!” And they did.

MARIE: No kidding? Well, what do you know!

APRIL: But never again.

MARIE: That’s a relief.

APRIL: Now I know precisely what I’m worth.

MARIE: Like a vintage wine.

APRIL: Exactly. Thanks to Doctor Dave I can hold my head high and say, “I’m the goddess I was meant to be.”

MARIE: It must feel good to say that.

APRIL: It does. It really does. Why don’t you try it?

MARIE: Is it that simple?

TIM: Go ahead, Marie. Give it a try.

MARIE: Okay, what the hell . . . Here goes. [She stands up and strikes a pose, putting everything into it] I am the goddess I was meant to be!

APRIL: Wow,  that was excellent!

TIM: That was fantastic, Marie. How did it feel?

MARIE: Kinda silly, if you want to know the truth.

APRIL: You should say that first thing every morning as soon as you get out of bed.

MARIE: I don’t know about that.

APRIL: Yes, you should. And eventually you will start to belive it. That’s what Doctor Dave says.

MARIE: Well, I wouldn’t want to discredit Doctor Dave, but I don’t believe it would work that way. And besides, if I have to convince myself by mindless repetition then it’s not really true.

APRIL: All women are goddesses.

TIM: I’ll buy that.

MARIE: Well, I’ve known a few who went the other way.

APRIL: You mean witches?

MARIE: That’s right.

APRIL: Doctor Dave explained that. You see, if women are mistreated and don’t get what they want . . .

TIM: They turn into witches instead of goddesses.

APRIL: Exactly.

MARIE: Did Doctor Dave say all that? What a genius.

APRIL: Yes, and it makes perfect sense.

MARIE: For some people, yes.

APRIL: You don’t believe it?

MARIE: It’s way too simplistic. But let’s change the subject, please. Tell me about this business proposal, Tim.

TIM: April wants to work with us. She wants to be our sales rep.

MARIE: Do we need one?

TIM: Yes, we do. Desperately. And now that she’s gained so much self-confidence I think she’d be perfect for the job.

MARIE: That would mean that the two of you, you and April, that is, would be spending a lot of time together.

TIM: Well, naturally, we’d have to –

MARIE: Then my answer is no.

TIM: No?

MARIE: That’s right. No.

APRIL: May I know why?

MARIE: It’s simple. And I don’t need Doctor Dave’s advice. I don’t trust you, April. I think you’re a witch pretending to be a goddess. Or if you are a goddess, then you’re the kind who believes she can have anything she wants because she’s entitled to it. And frankly my husband is the kind of man who goes all weak and submissive whenever a goddess smiles at him. So no, no, no. My answer is NO!

APRIL: Is that final?

MARIE: Please leave. Please relieve us of your narcissistic presence before I say something really offensive.

APRIL: [getting up and leaving in a huff] I’ve never been so insulted . . .

[APRIL exits.

TIM: That wasn’t very nice. What got into you?

MARIE: I haven’t a clue. I wonder what Doctor Dave would say.

TIM: He’d probably call you a witch.

MARIE: Yeah! Hand me my broomstick. I’d like to go for a ride.

[BLACKOUT.

MASTER AND SLAVE

Copyright 2014 by Anthony S. Maulucci

SCENE: An open space with a pile of rubbish.

TIME: The present

CHARACTERS: (may be played by men or women)

MASTER

 SLAVE

The MASTER  and SLAVE enter. The SLAVE carries a burden. The MASTER stops stage center, looks around.

MASTER: This will do. You may put down your burden.

SLAVE: Where, Master?

MASTER: [points to a spot] There.

SLAVE: Yes, Master.

MASTER: Find me something to sit on. I’m tired.

SLAVE: Yes, Master.

[The SLAVE rummages through the rubbish heap and pulls out an old chair without a back. He sets it in place with much ceremony, adjusting it, studying it.

MASTER: Well? Have you found something?

SLAVE: There you are, Master. Your throne.

[The MASTER looks it over, nods his approval, sits.

MASTER: Not bad. You’re not such a bad slave.

SLAVE: Thank you, Master. May I sit?

MASTER: First unpack our lunch.

SLAVE: Yes, of course, Master.

[Ceremoniously, the SLAVE unpacks things from the bundle, spreads a cloth, sets out the meager lunch of bread and cheese.

MASTER: No, you’re not such a bad slave, despite what my wife says about you.

SLAVE: Thank you, Master.

[The SLAVE serves the MASTER his lunch with great ceremony.

MASTER: Is this all you brought? Bread and cheese? You idiot! [Throws the food and the utensils to the ground. Slaps the SLAVE across the face.] How in heaven’s name am I supposed to stay healthy with only bread and cheese to eat!

SLAVE: I’m sorry, Master.

MASTER: Did you bring any wine?

SLAVE: I forgot the wine.

MASTER: You moron! [Slaps him again]

SLAVE: I brought some fruit, Master. An orange.

MASTER: You know I prefer grapes! Why didn’t you bring grapes!

SLAVE: I thought they would get crushed on the journey, Master.

MASTER: Leave the thinking to me, you idiot.

SLAVE: Yes, Master. I am an idiot. That’s certain.

MASTER: Put the lunch away. I’m not hungry anymore.

SLAVE: Do you want some coffee?

MASTER: Yes. Serve me my coffee.

[The SLAVE puts away the lunch and takes out a thermos, pours coffee into a mug.

MASTER: I have half a mind to send you back for more food.

SLAVE: But it’s a long and tiring journey, Master.

MASTER: What do I care? I’ll wait here and take my nap while you’re gone.

SLAVE: Yes, Master.

MASTER: But then knowing my wife, she will detain you and question you, and when she finds out what we’re up to she’ll send out a search party.

SLAVE: She’ll probably do that, Master.

MASTER: There’s no “probably” about it. Come here!

[The SLAVE steps over to the MASTER and the MASTER kicks him hard.

SLAVE: [going down on his knees as he grimaces in pain] What was that for?

MASTER: Never mind. For being an oaf and an idiot. For having the nerve to express an opinion in my presence.  For having a look on your face.

SLAVE: What look?

MASTER: Never mind!

SLAVE: Well, yes, I did have a look. That’s certain.

[The MASTER kicks him again.

SLAVE: I deserved that one.

MASTER: Yes, you did.

SLAVE: That’s certain.

MASTER: Yes, that’s certain.

SLAVE: [in a whiny voice] Why must you mistreat me, Master?

MASTER: Why? Because you’re my slave. And stop speaking to me in that whining tone of voice. You know I can’t stand it when you whine.

SLAVE: I’ll try not to whine, Master, if you would try not to lose your temper and kick me . . . so hard. Just a little kick, perhaps, but not so hard. I have many bruises, Master, and they keep me awake at night. It is not such a pleasant life for me, you know, being bossed around and kicked about all the time like a football. I am not a football, that’s certain. I am a man with his own pride and his own dignity. I am entitled to my feelings. I have many feelings of my own. You would know about them if you asked me. If only you were kinder to me. If only you showed me a little kindness what a different sort of relationship we could have. I would do everything you asked me to do with a smile if you weren’t so cruel to me. Yes, I would do everything and more out of my love and respect for you. Don’t you realize that? But you are a cruel, uncaring master.

MASTER: [hasn’t been listening] Are you through with your whining? Can we move on now? We have a lot of ground to cover. [He stands up.] Pick up your burden. Let’s go!

SLAVE: I am tired, Master.

MASTER: I’m not. I said let’s go!

SLAVE: I must refuse, Master. My legs are tired and I must rest. That’s certain.

MASTER: Do you defy me?

SLAVE: Yes, I defy you.

MASTER: How dare you!

SLAVE: Yes, how dare I. But somehow I do.

MASTER: I will kill you if you don’t obey.

SLAVE: Yes, that’s certain. But somehow I do not obey.

MASTER: Come over here.

SLAVE: Somehow I cannot. Somehow I must stay right where I am.

MASTER: I will whip you. Hand me my whip.

SLAVE: I cannot.

MASTER: Hand me my whip, I tell you. NOW!

[The SLAVE takes the MASTER’s whip out of the bundle. He holds it for a moment and then unwinds it.

SLAVE: Here it is.

MASTER: Give it to me!

SLAVE: Somehow I cannot.

MASTER: GIVE IT TO ME!

[The SLAVE snaps the whip open and lashes the MASTER.

SLAVE: There. Now you have it. That’s certain.

MASTER: How dare you!

[The SLAVE lashes the MASTER again.

SLAVE: Somehow I dare.

MASTER: I will kill you!

SLAVE: Somehow I do not think so. Somehow I think I am the master now.

[The SLAVE throws down the burden, and sits on the chair while the MASTER remains crouching and protecting his face with his arms.

MASTER: Please do not whip me!

SLAVE: Somehow I think I must.

[The SLAVE lashes the MASTER again. He cries out in pain.

SLAVE:  Fetch my lunch, Slave. [cracks the whip] Do it now!

MASTER: Yes, Master.

SLAVE: And serve it to me in the usual manner or you will feel the sting of my whip. Hurry up! And make no mistakes! Do it perfectly, or else . . .!

MASTER: Yes, Master.

SLAVE: What a fool you are! What an idiot! I shall have you put to death one of these days for being such an idiot. I don’t know why I put up with you! Hurry up now! I am hungry! I don’t have all day.

[As the MASTER comes closer with the lunch the SLAVE kicks him hard.

MASTER: What was that for?

SLAVE: Never mind. Just because you deserve it for being such a lazy good-for-nothing oaf! Where is my onion soup? You know I like to begin the meal with onion soup!

MASTER: There is no onion soup, Master.

SLAVE: What?! No onion soup!? You cretin! [kicks him] I will make you a cripple. I’ll fix you so you have to crawl on your knees whenever I call you. I will fix you so that you can never have children. How would you like that? That will teach you to forget my onion soup.

MASTER: Please do not mistreat me, Master. Please don’t beat me.

SLAVE: I don’t mistreat you. It’s all in your mind. I treat you just as you deserve.  

MASTER: But you kick me too hard when you beat me.

SLAVE: Stop your whining! You know I can’t stand it when you complain. You’re lucky that I don’t put you to death this very instant. Kiss my hand.

[The SLAVE holds out his hand and the MASTER kisses it.

SLAVE: That’s more like it. You dog! Lick my hand, you dog! Lick it like the filthy beast that you are and don’t you ever forget who is the real master here!

MASTER: [Licking the SLAVE’s hand] You are the Master.

SLAVE: Say it again.

MASTER: [Licking the SLAVE’s hand ]You are the master.

SLAVE: That’s certain! And don’t you ever forget it!

BLACKOUT