Hello Friends,

It’s been a very long time. I know you thought I’d abandoned you, and I had, and I’m sorry. I never stopped thinking of you though, and through all those long nights I was romancing beautiful women, and solving international crimes of passion, you were always right next to my heart. Which is why my for my first post back I’m going to be post another short ten minute play I wrote called I Thought You Loved Me. It only seems appropriate.

Just a quick note before we get to the goodness: I’m going to try really hard to keep updating this blog once a week for the foreseeable future. I know I’ve said that before, and like a good wife wife in an emotionally abusive relationship you’ve stood by me even though you knew I’d probably only break my promise again, and again, but I really, really mean it this time. So I’m going to ask for your help. If you like what I do here (whatever that may be) drop me a line on Facebook, or shoot me a Tweet, and let me know someone is actually reading these mad ramblings. It’s a huge motivator to know someone actually cares. I’ve got a back log of Director’s Cut: Ridiculous Weekly Wrap-Up to finish rolling out, stand up dates to share, videos I’ll be making, and a whole host of other none sense that you might like to use as a time waster while you’re trying to free yourself from the everyday ennui of life. So please let me know you’re out there, cause I’d love to hear from you.

And now, with out further interruption, your feature presentation…

                                                  I Thought You Loved Me

©Michael Lewis

 

Characters

 

Fritz……………………………………………………………………….Schizoid Hero/ Villian

Dani….……………………………………………………………The Object of Fritz Obsession

“Lucky”……………………………………………………………………………..Dani’s Fiance

 

 

(The room is dark. Muffled voices can be heard coming from stage right. Suddenly the lights come up and we see a door open at stage left; LUCKY has entered and flipped on the light switch. He stands in the door a moment and tries to assess the situation. Standing across from him near a window down stage right are FRITZ and DANI. FRITZ is standing in front of DANI and has his hand over her mouth with one finger pressed to his lips, trying to sush her. DANI pushes him away.)

 

DANI

Get off of me!!!

 

(The room is a Spartan like. There is little more onstage than a table, a chair, and a drawer, but the set still retains an air of elegance. As DANI is stumbling back from FRITZ she catches herself on the table and takes a moment to catch her breath. She is now center stage between the two men, FRITZ down stage right, and LUCKY up stage left.)

 

LUCKY

What is this?!

 

DANI

This maniac…

 

FRITZ

…I’m not a maniac…

 

DANI

…broke in here…

 

FRITZ

…the door was locked…

 

DANI

… started ranting and raving…

 

FRITZ

…I was only trying to explain myself….

 

DANI

…About how you were going to hurt me, and something about how I was in danger, and…

 

FRITZ

…WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!…

 

LUCKY

…Dani, I think you’re upsetting him…

 

FRITZ

…DANIELLE IF HE FINDS OUT THAT I KNOW YOU’LL BE IN EVEN GREATER DANGER…

 

DANI

…LUCKY!?!… what is he talking about?!?…

 

LUCKY

Dani, I swear I’ve never seen this man before in my life.

 

FRITZ

OF COURSE HE HASN’T!!! Danielle, did you really think I’d let myself get caught by a shmuck like this?

 

DANI

LUCKY! WHAT IS HE TALKI…

 

LUCKY

DANI! I HAVE NO I….

 

FRITZ

C’mon, Danielle. We gotta go.

 

(With this FRITZ grabs DANI’s hand and heads for the window.)

 

DANI

GET THE FUCK OFF ME!!!!

 

(DANI again shakes FRITZ off of her.)

 

DANI

Touch me again and I will fucking mace you! You hear me psycho?!

 

FRITZ

Danielle, we can’t stay here.

 

DANI

I can. This is my hotel room. I can stay here as long as I fucking want to. You on the other hand only have the about ten minutes before the cops get here.

 

FRITZ

You called the police?!…. DANIELLE WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!?!… They’re working for him!… You’re playing right into his hand.

 

DANI

Whose hand? Lucky’s hand?

 

FRITZ

YES!?!

 

DANI

Look, I don’t know who you are, but I can promise you that my fiancé here doesn’t have a hand to play! He’s barely got a pot to piss in.

 

LUCKY

OUCH, DANI!

 

DANI

Oh, shut up, Lucky.

 

FRITZ

It’s all a rouse. He’s been manipulating your whole relationship. Slowly earning your trust so that he can use you up, suck you dry; he’s a vampire trying to draw the life out of you. He’s fucking evil, Danielle.

 

DANI

LUCKY?

 

LUCKY

Dani, I don’t know! I was in the next room talking to your mother and the rest of the guest when I heard you scream.

 

FRITZ

Guest?

 

DANI

Yeah, for a guy that supposedly understands the inner workings of my relationship you don’t know anything. It’s my engagement party, dingus?

 

FRITZ

Tonight? But that wasn’t supposed to be for another week.

 

DANI

We had to bump it up, AND HOW THE FUCK DID YOU KNOW THAT???

 

FRITZ

Dani, I know everything about you. I’m in love with you. I saw you crossing the streets six months ago and I could tell right then and there that you were the only woman could ever love.

 

DANI

So you stalked me?

 

 

FRITZ

Of course. I had to get close to you.

 

DANI

That’s crazy.

 

FRITZ

What’s crazy is that you’ve been dating this man for 6 years and haven’t even once noticed the team of government agents he has tracking your every movement.

 

DANI

What?

 

FRITZ

Dani, this man is a government agent that has been assigned to keep tabs on you because of your family’s wealth and influence. He knows that you are the only way to get to the money. He’s trying to use you to usurp your families power because you are vulnerable! Don’t you see Danielle, he’s out to get you…

 

DANI

(Turning to LUCKY)

I know you’re not a government agent

 

LUCKY

Thanks, Love.

 

FRITZ

Danielle, do you really love him?

 

(DANI pauses a moment)

 

LUCKY

Dani….

 

(DANI is still silent)

 

LUCKY (cont’d)

Dani,  why are you hesitating?

 

(DANI is still contemplating the question)

 

LUCKY (cont’d)

DANI!…

 

(DANI snaps back to life)

 

DANI

WHAT!!!

 

LUCKY

Tell your stalker that you love me so that he can go to jail a broken and defeated man.

 

DANI

Jesus, Lucky, that’s kind of cruel don’t you think?

 

LUCKY

HE’S YOUR STALKER!!!

 

DANI

Yeah, I know but he’s sick.

 

LUCKY

If you tell him that you love me maybe it’ll help him to free himself from this twisted delusion.

 

(DANI almost starts speaking and then hesitates again) 

 

LUCKY (cont’d)

DANI WE ARE ABOUT TO GET MARRIED THIS SHOULDN’T BE A FUCKING CHORE!!!

 

DANI

HEY DON’T YELL AT ME! THAT ISN’T GOING TO MAKE ME LOVE YOU!

 

LUCKY

YOU SHOULD ALREADY LOVE ME!!!!

 

DANI

I DO!… hypothetically… I mean… ya know… on paper… I do…

 

LUCKY

…On paper…?

 

(DANI rushes over to lucky and touches his face)

 

DANI

Yeah, but that’s the only place that counts. Ya know, like in court and stuff….

 

LUCKY

You don’t love me.

 

 

FRITZ

OF COURSE SHE DOESN’T ASSHOLE! YOU’RE A SPY SENT TO DESTROY HER FAMILY!!!

DANI

SHUT UP!!!

 

FRITZ

Danielle, I do love you. And I know you could love me, and I now that it’s clear you don’t love the spy you could leave with me. We could start a new life together, me and you….

 

DANI

You tried to kidnap me!

 

FRITZ

I tried to liberate you.

 

DANI

You’re out of your mind!

 

FRITZ

…With Love…

 

LUCKY

What am I going to tell your mother?

 

DANI

Nothing! Because we are still getting married.

 

LUCKY

How?

 

DANI

What do you mean how? I’m going to put on a white dress, and walk down the aisle, and then the pastor is going to tell the world that we can finally kiss for the first time ever, and we’ll both smile a knowing smile at each other when we think about that weekend we had on the cape; that’s how we are going to get married.

 

FRITZ

I have a place on the cape!

 

DANI

SHUT!!! UP!!!… How?

 

FRITZ

My grandfather left it to me.

 

 

DANI

Oh…. Beachfront?

 

FRITZ

Private… and a hot tub.

 

DANI

Oh… that sounds lovely

 

LUCKY

OH JESUS, DANI!!!… Why don’t you fuck him right here?!?!

 

DANI

LUCKY!  Be reasonable…

 

LUCKY

I’m sorry, my fiancé just told me she doesn’t love me and then started flirting with her stalker who happens to be standing across the room, only after committing a felony to get in here mind you, because he mentioned that by some fluke of fate he owns some beach front property. Everything about this moment is unreasonable, and yet I am supposed to stay composed? Go fuck yourself, Danni! I actually have to plan a day when I’m going to return your engagement ring; do you get that? I HAVE TO RETURN YOUR ENGAGEMENT RING!!!… I have to return your engagement ring… I have to return your fucking engagement ring…

 

(Silence. DANI puts her arms around LUCKY and her head on his chest. The two share their last tender moment.)

 

DANI

I’m sorry, David.

 

LUCKY

Please… Don’t call me that… it makes this all too… real.

 

(The two share a moment of silence)

 

LUCKY (cont’d)

What happened to us Dani?

 

DANI

When we met you were going to take over the world. But the world is still out there, Lucky, unconquered.  Now, every time I want to love you I just end up pitying you.

 

(There is a long moment of silence. FRITZ walks over to DANI and LUCKY)

 

FRITZ

Soooooo…. The wedding is off right?…

 

(DANI and LUCKY look at FRITZ incredulously)

 

FRITZ (cont’d)

… it’s just that I haven’t got a whole lot of time let and I was thinking that if this thing is really off Danielle and I should get going out that window while the getting is good…

 

LUCKY

You… Cock-Sucking….

 

(LUCKY pushes DANI away and advances on FRITZ with blood in his eyes. He takes a swing at FRITZ that FRITZ easily doges. FRITZ returns LUCKYS aggression and easily knocks LUCKY to the ground with one punch.)

 

FRITZ

Looks like the CIA has been slacking on their training requirements

 

(LUCKY makes his way to his feet)

 

LUCKY

FOR THE LAST FUCKING TIME! I DO NOT WORK FOR THE GOVERNMENT!!!

 

FRITZ

…Well you’re certainly not their prize agent…

 

LUCKY

Christ, now schizoid pete is on my ass, too…

 

FRITZ

Well, learn to fight like a man.

 

DANI

Leave him alone… just… just don’t.

 

FRITZ

Danielle, can we go now… we have seconds. Maybe.

 

(DANI looks around the room. She looks at LUCKY and sighs deeply. LUCKY pleads with her one last time.)

 

LUCKY

Dani. Please.

 

DANI

Fuck it. Let’s go.

 

(DANI crosses to FRITZ. They look at each other, and then dive out of the window. Two men rush in and help LUCKY steady himself on his feet.)

 

MAN 1

Sir, Are you ok?

 

LUCKY

Yes, I’m fine. My ego is a bit bruised, but otherwise fine.

 

MAN 2

Should we contact the director, Sir?

 

LUCKY

Yes. Tell him our efforts to infiltrate the Geoffries family have been… unsuccessful…

 

(LUCKY walks over to the window and looks down)

 

LUCKY (cont’d)

…Also tell him we are going to need a cleanup crew… two bodies, one male, one female… corner of Park and 52^nd …

 

(Pause)

 

LUCKY (cont’d)

…Oh and call the Jewelers… tell them I’m going to need to return a ring…

 

(LUCKY stands staring out of the window)

 

End of Play.

So I have this column on www.QuadNews.net called The Ridiculous Weekly Wrap-Up. I get no academic credit for it, it is simply a labor of love that I undertake each week to sharpen my skills as a writer, and quite frankly, to keep me sane. It’s just a little corner of cyberspace where I get to rant and rave about whatever I want and blow off a little steam. It’s alot like this place, except people actually see it. If you’re reading this, you’ve most like skimmed one of them sometime in the past six weeks, so you kind of already know what they are all about.

But in order for my beloved columns to be published they must pass through the trial of fire know as the editing process. Now, I understand the need for editing, especially for writers like me who have heard of grammar but just can’t see what it really has to do with them, but in addition to dotting my I’s and crossing my T’s the editors also have to edit for content. This means that some of my beautiful, and hilarious prose are left on the proverbial editing room floor. Well, no longer!!! I’ve decided to release in their unedited form, all of my previous Ridiculous Weekly Wrap-Up’s, and from now on will be posting the unedited version on the Thursday after the original Quad News version has been published. So keep checking in, and keep supporting me. Please. I’m very insecure.

… And Now, without further adieu, my very first Ridiculous Weekly Wrap-Up hailing all the way back from September 2011….:

This Column – if I may call it that – is dedicated to the ridiculous. Its sole purpose is to seek out the most ridiculous aspects of our media obsessed culture and tell you exactly why they kick so much tail. At first this seemed like a pretty simplistic quest: how hard could it be to find strange and ridiculous things in a world where a two of the most popular shows on television feature characters name Snooki, and Sookie?  These are names that should not be given to people, these are names you assign to sex acts in which only people featured in “The Hangover” franchise should be allowed to participate. The point is, the job should be easy. But then there was an earthquake, and natural disasters don’t generally fall under the funny ha-ha category. It’s true that there was no real damage, and as far as anyone can tell the only thing that really happened was that the Washington monument, our country’s favorite phallic symbol, was rumored to have become tilted just a little to the left (don’t worry George, It happens to a lot of guys). However, the media didn’t respond to this event with the shrug it deserved, and that most of us gave it – and thank god for that. No! They went full on OJ coverage. There were live updates, man-on-the-street interviews, expert explanations on just why the tectonic plates that Washington sits on seemed to be so upset with us, and weather it had anything to do with the president’s vacation. It was all the ridiculous a column like this could hope for; but then there was a hurricane. Damn It. 

Yes, Irene came to town, a hurricane named after everyone’s favorite post-menopausal aunt; and just like that aunt, she was one saucy handful. She knocked out our power. She disconnected us from our precious twitter accounts. She closed down New York.  Irene was annoying in that very special way only a cranky aunt knows how to be.  Yet, over the horizon the media once again came bounding in to cheer us all up with their breathless and thoughtless coverage of what would eventually turn out to be little more than a very rainy Sunday. They hyped to storm so much that it wasn’t just your annoying aunt coming to town anymore: No, it was Aunt Irene  and The Four Horsemen of the apocalypse - which by the way would be an banging band name (you’re welcome, future Grammy winner),  and as of Friday, we were told that New York was about to be washed away. In fact so were Washington, Boston, and most of the eastern seaboard. Actually, All of American society was about to be swept out to sea, and we were all going to have to learn to swim very fast. In truth, considering the state of the American economy switching to a tuna based currency might not have been such a bad thing, but I digress. Now, it is not the goal of this column to be insensitive, there were some truly regrettable losses in the storm, but I think the very existence of this collection of rambling is a testament to just how much society remained in tack during what we were told would be our dampest hour.

But alas, before ink could be put to paper to record the utter insanity of the hurricane, BOOM! We’re back at school. It probably doesn’t need to be said how sobering the sudden reintroduction of structure to one’s life can be, and once again the ridiculous just seemed to slip away. So now what? Where does one go from here? Where is the ridiculous to which this small slice of cyber space is pledged? Well, as of today, personal thanks can be extended to our President, Barak Obama, because he has scheduled his much anticipated Jobs speech for Wednesday September 7;  The very same night as the first of three Republican presidential debates scheduled for this month, essentially creating the political equivalent of a hip-hop dance off. Who will be served Next Wednesday? Only time will tell, but let that be a fond lesson to us all: When searching for the ridiculous, always look to politics. We’ll see you next week.

It’s been a little over a week since my last post. I wanted to do this weekly, on the clock, but let’s face it, that’s just not me. 

Like I said last time I don’t really know what this blog is supposed to be, except for something to keep me active, but I think there is value in that. Maybe there is enough value in that that it doesn’t have to be anything more than that. Maybe, between the little bit of time I get to spend with my girlfriend, the too few hours I spend at work, the way to many hours I’ll be spending at school in about a weeks time, and the 15 minuets I spend masturbating every other day; something transcendent will emerge from my cranium and land on this blog for all the world to enjoy. Maybe this little slice of cyber space will become a place of devastating, beautiful honesty that will strenghten me as an individual, give me a wealth of material for my stand up, and let just one person out there in this godless, chaotic universe know that they are not alone. Maybe there is real meaning to this madness…. but then again… maybe it’s all just bullshit. 

I did stand up 4 times last week. I felt like I got stronger each time, so I’m excited to keep going with that. This week I’m looking at doing it at least three times, and if anyone knows some weekend show I can get on I’d really appreciate a heads up. Monday I’ll be at Koji - which is fast becoming one of the best open mics around. Congrats to Beecher for all of his hard work. Wednesday is of course Joker’s - Nice job last week Mr. Kalwhite. You’ll make a fine replacement for the implacable Pat Oates. I’m still figuring out tuesday, so keep your eyes on twitter to see where I’ll be. 

Next weekend the new half season of Doctor Who starts up, so I think I’ll be reviewing the rest of series 6. If you are a fan of Doctor Who we’ll be on the same page, if you haven’t really kept up with it, I’m sorry, but you’ll be lost. I am in no way ambitious enough to go back and review the whole season.

Well that’s pretty much all I got right now. To finish this thing out I’m gonna post one of my old Ten Minute plays again. This one is about war… Kind of… you’ll see. If anyone is reading this. Thanks, and I’ll see you in no more than a week. If no one is reading this, which seems far more likely, at least I killed 15 minutes. Enjoy the play.

                               No Atheist in Fox Holes

©Michael Lewis 2010

 

 

Characters

 

Ridley…………………………………………………………………. ……..Journalist

The Ghost ……………………………………………………………………The Ghost 

 

 

(The lights come up on the crumbling remains of a mosque.  The walls are falling and there are pieces of rubble scattered all around the stage. One of the pieces is a large slab of granite, and trapped underneath it is RIDLEY. The building is moments away from complete collapse and RIDLEY is frantically trying to call for help.)

 

RIDLEY

HELP!!…. HELP!!!… WHERE ARE YOU BASTARDS!?!….

 

(There is no answer)

 

RIDLEY

FUUUUCCCCKKKK!!!!!

 

(RIDLEY begins weeping. He tries to compose himself. He begins talking to himself)

 

RIDLEY

This is bullshit. This is bullshit. This is bullshit. WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!…. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. FUCK. Shit…

 

(He tries frantically to free himself from under the slab, but it’s futile. He begins talking to himself again)

 

WHY WOULD ANY ONE COME TO THIS GOD FORSAKEN SUN SCORCHED HELL HOLE!?!?!? WHY?!?!…

 

 (He picks up a radio lying close by him. He tries to talk into it hoping to get a response from the other end)

 

RIDLEY

HELLO! Hello? This is Ridley Matthews. Can anyone hear me? Hello? I’m a Journalist. My Name is Ridley Matthews. Is anyone there?

 

(Ridley throws his head back in defeat. He continues talking into the radio, no longer expecting a response.)

 

RIDLEY

Of course you’re not. Why would you be? WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BE?!?!… That would be fucking helpful, and in two thousand years what helpful thing has this region ever produced? Algebra? Fuck you. Countless middle school children would be more than happy to see that vanish from the pages of history…

 

(He takes a long deep sigh.)

 

RIDLEY

I’m going to die here.

 

(The collapsing building starts to settle and break down a little bit more. Pieces of debris fall to the floor and RIDLEY become even more frantic.)

 

RIDLEY

HELP!!!! SOMEONE PLEASE FUCKING HELP ME!!!!

 

(The sounds of bombs and gunfire can be heard going off in the background. There is a firefight just outside of where RIDLEY is trapped. RIDLEY, delirious, starts cheering.)

 

RIDLEY

WOOO HOOO!!! U.S.A.!!! U.S.A.!!!… Kick some ass, boys! And never stop to ask what you’re fighting for, just keep fighting.

 

(A bomb explodes.)

 

RIDLEY

Don’t worry about me. I’ll just hang back and hold down the fort.

 

(The building starts to collapse just a bit more. More pieces begin to fall.)

 

RIDLEY

FUCKING HEEEEEEELLLLLLPPPPP!!!!…

 

(He lays his head back again. He takes a deep breath. He begins weeping once more. He picks up his radio and starts talking into it again.)

 

RIDLEY

Please. Dear Christ, please, just someone fucking answer.

 

(No answer.)

 

RIDLEY

Please. I don’t even care if you can get me out of here. I just don’t want to die alone. Please… Please…

 

(A man enters. He is tall, and handsome, and well dressed, and in some ways he resembles RIDLEY very closely. His presence is completely incongruous with the surroundings. He looks around the room, evaluating it. He takes a seat on a piece of rubble and looks at RIDLEY who is simply weeping softly to himself. Starts talking to RIDLEY)

 

THE GHOST

Ridley.

 

RIDLEY

Hello?

(RIDLEY picks up his radio and speaks into it.)

 

RIDLEY

HELLO!!!… Are you still there? This is Ridley Matthews. I was travelling with the 110^th when our caravan was attacked.  Can you hear me? I got separated from the group. Hello? Hello. I ran into this mosque about a quarter mile from the site of the attack. The roof caved in. I’m trapped. Hello. Please send help. Please. Hello…

 

(RIDLEY lays his head back again. This time despairing even more deeply)

 

RIDLEY

Hello…?

 

THE GHOST

Ridley.

 

RIDLEY

Yes.

 

THE GHOST

No one is coming.

 

(beat)

 

RIDLEY

I know.

 

(beat)

 

THE GHOST

It’s lonely isn’t it?

 

(beat)

 

RIDLEY

Why aren’t they coming?

 

THE GHOST

Because they are too busy dying themselves.

 

(beat)

 

RIDLEY

Who is this? What’s your name? Tell me your name.

 

 

THE GHOST

Why? Knowing my name won’t change things.

 

RIDLEY

Just tell me if you can help me….

 

THE GHOST

 I’m sorry. All I can do is grant you your last wish. You won’t die alone.

 

RIDLEY

 Fuck you… Everyone dies alone.

 

THE GHOST

Everyone dies. Not everyone dies alone.

 

RIDLEY

What are you talking about?

 

THE GHOST

I’m talking about faith, Ridley. People with faith never die alone.

 

RIDLEY

Faith in what? God?

 

THE GHOST

Just Faith. Faith that they are loved.

 

(More rubble falls into the frame. The intensity in the fighting outside picks up. And the sound of the building ripping itself apart is growing more and more ominous.)

 

 RIDLEY

A lot of good love is going to do me when 4 tons of granite smashes my skull in. I’m about to DIE. I don’t need this right now.

 

THE GHOST

You’ve never needed it more.

 

RIDLEY

What I need is help.

 

THE GHOST

Help’s not coming.

 

RIDLEY

I know that! You told me that! I don’t need you reminding me every five seconds. I’m trying to die here! So keep whatever shovel full of shit you were about to throw my way.

 

THE GHOST

Just a few moments ago you were begging to be given comfort. Now I offer you comfort, and you reject it simply because I told you to find faith at this late hour.

 

RIDLEY

BECAUSE I DON”T NEED FAITH. I NEED HELP.

 

THE GHOST

Help isn’t coming.

 

RIDLEY

I KNOW!!!… I know.

 

(RIDLEY begins weeping once again. Beat.)

 

THE GHOST

Do you have a God, Ridley. A deity you worship, a religion you adhere to; something to sustain you in all your frailties?

 

RIDLEY

(Solemly)

No.

 

THE GHOST

Why not?

 

RIDLEY

Because… I never needed one…

 

THE GHOST

Do you need one now?

 

RIDLEY

NO!

 

THE GHOST

Why not?

 

RIDLEY

Because… religion was… is… for people who don’t know what happens to them after they die.  For people too weak to make it through their lives without something that makes the idea of dying a little less scary. I never needed that. I always look death straight in the eye and told it to go fuck itself. I’m strong I know what happens after you die. Nothing. There is nothing to fear.

 

 

THE GHOST

… and yet you weep.

 

RIDLEY

Fuck you.

 

THE GHOST

You’re so afraid

 

RIDLEY

I said fuck you.

 

THE GHOST

So terrified that all your confidence was really just bravado.

 

RIDLEY

FUCK OFF!

 

THE GHOST

Afraid that you’re just as weak as all the people you despise.

 

(RIDLEY has been talking into the radio this whole time, thinking that voice was coming from someone on the other end. He throws the radio across the room. More rubble falls. A piece hits him in the face and he begins bleeding. THE GHOST walks over to RIDLEY and places his hand on the wound. Suddenly, RIDLEY becomes aware of THE GHOST’s presence in the room. RIDLEY does not react with surprise. He lays his head back, and laughs. THE GHOST goes over to a piece of rubble and takes a seat across from RIDLEY.)

 

RIDLEY

I thought you said help wasn’t coming.

 

THE GHOST

It’s not. Just me.

 

RIDLEY

Come to sit by the bedside of a dying man?

 

THE GHOST

Yes.

 

(More rubble. Beat.)

 

 

 

 

RIDLEY

I went to church when I was a kid, ya know. But you get older, and you stop caring. Eventually, it just wasn’t useful. I was happy, I was strong, and faith had nothing to do with it…. I made a decision, faith was unnecessary… So why am I so scared.

 

THE GHOST

You’re human.

 

RIDLEY

What are you?

 

THE GHOST

Something else.

 

(Beat)

 

RIDLEY

When this whole place comes crashing down, what happens to you?

 

THE GHOST

I’ll live.

 

RIDLEY

…And I won’t…

 

(THE GHOST shakes his head. Beat.)

 

 

RIDLEY

What do you have faith in?

 

THE GHOST

You, I suppose, and people like you. People that fight.

 

(Beat)

 

RIDLEY

I’m ready.

 

THE GHOST

I know.

 

(The lights begin to go down. The rumbling sounds of the building collapsing gets louder. It builds to a crescendo and then silence. Blackout.) 

Hello Friends, Fans, and Stalkers!

The name is Mike. Mike Lewis. Well, actually, it’s Michael Thomas Cromwell Lewis, but a lot of people just call me Lew. Or Mike. I have a lot of names is what I’m trying to tell you. Anyway! This is my first official post here on Tumblr. and I’m pretty excited about it. I’m an aspiring Actor/Comedian/Writer/Madman/Lover(Ladies?) that’s out taking a stroll on these interwebs, and meeting the likes of you.

Now, you might be bowing humbly at your screen, doffing your hat ever so slightly, and very courteously uttering the words “Why, hello, Mr. Lewis. It is my ever so supplicatory pleasure to make your acquaintance.” In which case I would inform you that that level of etiquette really isn’t necessary in this situation, and kindly ask you to put away your genitals. There is no need to make this awkward…. I’ll wait… Good, now that those are away, you might be asking yourself, “If this isn’t a porn blog, what kind of blog is this?” Well, I’m glad you asked, not because I can answer it (I can’t), but because really it’s just nice to know someone is interested. It means a lot. Actually, I’m kind of looking for a roommate. You wouldn’t be interested would you?… … Ya know what, forget I asked, just check out the blog.

For Now, until I figure out just what it is I intend to do with this little piece of internet real estate, I’m gonna post some short plays I’ve written. It’s just a way to get things rolling. The first one is called “No Laughing Matter”. It’s about comedians - go figure. Enjoy. And I’ll catch up with you in about a week. Also maybe keep thinking about what we talked about… Utilities are included…take your time.

                                   No Laughing Matter

Michael Lewis 

 

© September 24, 2010

 

Characters

Adam Paglia(m)…………………………………………………………………..A Comedian

Natalie Paglia(f)…………………………………………………………………A Comedienne

 

 

No Laughing Matter

Michael Lewis

 

(Adam and Natalie are standing outside in an alley. Natalie is leaning against the wall. Adam is pacing back and forth smoking a cigarette. It is raining slightly. There is a street light above them illuminating a sign that reads “CHUCKLES”.  There is a door stage left leading to the back stage area of the club. The light flickers occasionally.)

 

NATALIE

I’m sick of these fucking alleys.

 

ADAM

It’s all part of the job baby.

 

NATALIE

Why can’t these clubs ever have green rooms?

 

ADAM

Some of them do.

 

NATALIE

(Sarcastically)

 Not the ones we get booked in.

 

ADAM

I told you, you didn’t have to come to this one.

 

NATALIE

I always come…

 

ADAM

(With a lightning fast wit)

… I know you do…

 

NATALIE

…to your shows.

 

ADAM

I know, but at this point I bet you know this routine better than I do.

 

NATALIE

While that’s probably true, it’s not the point. I want to be here. I’m sorry I’m complaining it’s just this fucking alley.

 

ADAM

(drags on his smoke)

This one’s nicer than the last one.

 

NATALIE

It’s still a fucking alley

 

(ADAM puts out his cigarette and moves to her. He pulls her close to him)

 

ADAM

Yeah, but we could make it our alley.

 

NATALIE

Ew, you smell like smoke.

 

ADAM

You like that.

 

(NATALIE pushes him away)

 

NATALIE

Last thing we need is another alley. So far we’ve racked up 15…

 

ADAM

…and only three of them got us arrested….

 

NATALIE

…and only four of them almost got me pregnant…

 

ADAM

…Those aren’t bad percentage

(He pulls her in again. She doesn’t pull away, but she turns her head away from him. He leans in and begins kissing her neck trying to get her interested. She takes a long sigh.)

 

NATALIE

I don’t think I can do this.

 

ADAM

(Backing off. Disappointed.)

All right we’ll wait until we get home.

 

NATALIE

No. I mean all this. This life.

 

ADAM

You want to leave comedy?

 

NATALIE

Yeah. I think I do.

 

ADAM

(Suddenly very agitated)

WELL WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU WANT TO GO AND DO THAT!?!?!?!?!?!

 

 

NATALIE

(Defensive)

I just don’t know why I’m doing it anymore.

 

ADAM

Because you LOVE IT. Because getting on stage and telling jokes is like a drug. Because the only times you feel like you can even breathe is when where together and when you’re on stage. I’m quoting you!

 

NATALIE

Those were my reasons. But this isn’t a good life Adam. Being on the road is terrible.

 

ADAM

I know. I hate it too. But we knew that touring would be terrible. Every comic knows that going in.

 

NATALIE

Well now that I’ve lived it, I’m ready to get out.

 

(The door opens, but no one seen. A light streams out and the sounds of a cheering crowd can be heard. A voice begins to speak)

 

VOICE

Get Ready.

 

(ADAM acknowledges the voice, and the door closes. ADAM turns to NATALIE)

 

ADAM

Why?

 

NATALIE

(The following pours out of NATALIE very quickly, as if a dam has just broken inside of her head and all of this is cascading forward)

It’s been years, Adam. We’ve been doing this for years and I just don’t see us getting any…..

ADAM

…NO!… I mean, why tonight. Why THIS MOMENT!?!… For Christ’s sake, Nat. I’m about to go on. You know that if we ain’t fucking, I just want silence…

 

NATALIE

FUCK YOU! You don’t give a shit about me. All you care about is your show.

 

ADAM

You used to care about shows, too, Nat.

 

NATALIE

Well Now I care about other things

 

ADAM

WELL NAT… I still care about knowing why you’er trying to sabotage my show.

 

NATALIE

IT’S THIS FUCKING ALLEY! OK!

 

ADAM

IT’S JUST A FUCKING ALLEY!!!…. Are you telling me that a few hundred feet of concrete and some dumpsters were enough to make you walk away from your dream…?

 

NATALIE

It’s not the alley. It’s what it represent.

 

ADAM

You’re kidding?

 

NATALIE

NO! ADAM! I AM NOT KIDDING!… And also FUCK YOU!… I am so fucking tired of alleys. Tired of the way they smell and the way every single wall looks the same. I’m tired of shitty hotel rooms and terrible food. I’m tired of paying for one plane ride after another, and I’m even sick of the ones I don’t have to pay for. AND JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! I can’t even begin to tell you how tired I am of all the jerk-offs in the audience who would rather I be taking my shirt off and shaking my ass than trying to tell a joke, or do anything significant. Not to mention all the comics than WILL NOT STOP trying to fuck me; even thought they know we’re in a relationship. Do you remember how many comics you’ve had to scare off because they’re eyes were father down my shirt than my own bra? DO YOU?

 

ADAM

Of course I do. I remember all of them and how many times I almost got my ass seriously handed to me because you couldn’t keep that mouth of yours under control. I remember all the times I wished you would just shut up and let me handle the situation but you couldn’t, you had to say something, and even though I hated your timing I loved your courage. I took the good with the … less good… and, ya know why?

(he approaches her and caresses her cheek.)

Because I knew I’d found the one for me. I feel the same way about your that I feel about comedy. I take the good with the bad because I know I’ve found the thing I’m meant for. And I thought that’s how you felt, too.

NATALIE

I did… feel that way about comedy. And I still feel that way about you. But this life… It’s no way to live (pause) and certainly no way to raise a family

 

ADAM

(sudden)

Are You Pregnant?

 

NATALIE

No, you idiot. But I’d like to be.

 

ADAM

Like soon?

 

NATALIE

Like someday. But this is part of the problem. If we both keep doing this it’ll never happen.

 

ADAM

(with a cautious tone)

It sounds like your slowly creeping from a confession to an ultimatum.

 

(The door opens and the light comes streaming out once again. The sound of rapturous applause can be heard. The voice begins to speak once again.)

 

VOICE

Adam, your on.

 

NATALIE

(angry, bordering on hostile)

WELL, I THINK HE’S GOING TO NEED A FUCKING SECOND!

 

ADAM

NATALIE!…. SHUT UP!

(ADAM  turns to the door and addresses the VOICE )

 

ADAM (cont’d)

Ask the MC to vamp for me. Please. I just need another few seconds.

 

(Door closes)

 

ADAM (cont’d)

FUCK YOU! You don’t want a career fine. But don’t try to fuck up mine and don’t go throwing ultimatums around because you’re baby crazy all of a sudden.

 

NATALIE

I want a career, but I want a life more. I didn’t come here to give you an ultimatum, but if your proposing one fine, Comedy or me. That’s what you think I’m saying so I might as well say it because I’d love to hear your answer.

 

ADAM

No.

 

NATALIE

What?

ADAM

No Ultimatums. You want to drop the business. Go for it. I’ve supported every decision you’re ever made and I expect no less from you. You think it was easy for me to be apart from you all those nights we were both on tour. All those long nights staring at my ceiling… Ceilings. All those phone calls that were just a little bit less than enough… I’m about to walk into this club and do my ten minutes.  And you know why. Because I need to. Because I was born to. And if you’re out here when I come back, good. If you’re not, I’ll expect to see you at home… and if your not there, either… well then I just have a lot more ceilings to look forward too I guess….

 

NATALIE

(stand quietly. The rain pick up. The door opens again. The voice speaks)

 

VOICE

Times up.

 

ADAM

I’m ready.

 

(ADAM exits through the door into the club. Natalie is left alone)

 

NATALIE

i’m pregnant.

 

(Natalie walks off stage. Light down.)