April 25, 2006

A Play A Day #11

Inside Jokes Make Lousy Dialogue Unless You've Established Your Characters Through Shared Experiences And Expository Language Earlier In The Story; Something Which This Play Has Failed To Do.

(Setting: A restaurant, or a college dorm room, or a park, or a church basement, or a living room, or some other restaurant)

Mandy: And then it was like Saturday all over, except without the minty cheese! (much laughter, as the other women know exactly to what Mindy is referring. This is the theme of the play. From now on, pretty much all these lines make the woman laugh to varying degrees. The fact that you, the reader or viewer, don't get it; is entirely the fault of the horrible playwright. I'm guessing one of these women is the playwright, but I'm not sure. I have people looking into it.)

Sandy: Exactly... You bitch! (much laughter again, and every fucking line after this in some way)

Tandy: I still can't believe you said that, you're the bitch, Mandy.

Jen: Yeah! The half-purple butterscotch bitch!

S: And (exotically) guava!

T: (snobby voice) Precisely, my dear girl; it always takes two to produce such stunning work!

J: Yes, yes... (French male) and zee painting with zee woman breasts...

M: God! Don't even think about bringing that guy up again.

T: Yeah, he was too good for American pickles!

S: Not mine!

M: What would he know about your pickles? Did you give him a scrub-a-dub-dub too?

J: I never heard this!

T: Do tell, iguana-face!

S: Well, let's just say, as you always do Tantan, that sometimes the package needs to be unwrapped!

M: Then returned to sender!

J: All the way back to fucking Boise.

T: Oh yeah, where all the buttons go to stay.

M: Especially the little ones...

M, S, T, and J: (mock operatic) The bitty-bittle buttons of Boise!

J: Can you believe that? I mean what were they thinking when they wrote that?

S: Wait, I thought you wrote that?

J: No. I wouldn't write something like that.

T: You might shit something like that...

J: True, and remember shitting for writing is...

S and M: Writing for shitting!

T: (old guy voice) Huh? Can't beat that for a nickle!

J: (old guy voice) Have you seen my limbs?

M: (old guy voice) I thought one of you might have sat on it.

S: He was so creepy.

T: Yeah, do you think? Like Kevin-creepy or Dave-creepy?

S: Ewww... both...

M: Kevin-creepy, I'd say.

J: Too bad he was so old...

T: and out of ice cream...

S: and pickles...

J: You can't even count that as a full pickle situation!

M: No way... not pickles there...

J: Totally pickleless.

S: I disagree, there were some redeeming, almost Phyllis-level, aspects that...

M: I knew you were going to say that...

J: Oh, she's not that bad; now that she got out from under the horse...

T: Hmmm... is she?!

J: Ouch...

S: Well, she is a superstar of her time.

M: And her time meant so much to all of us.

S: She taught us so much about loving.

M: And the ancient ones!!

T: Who could forget?

J: I always wonder exactly where her bus stop was?

S: I'm sure it stopped at Central...

M, S, T and J: But she never got off!!

S: Much too harsh.

J: Maybe, but she was the bearer of all our tender gifts.

T: Yes, and spicy too?

S: Yeah... (dreamy voice) "Hot like a large, hot........ thing"

J: Never for us though.

M: No, I guess not.

S: Well, you never had to tough out the yucksies with her.

J: I loved the yucksies!

T: Me too, with the blue nob?

S: (lights start fading out) But never enough pomp! More pomp!

T: True, never could get enough to zap the wap!

M: She's just so noodled!

J: And, of course, we can't be noodled again, ladies!

M: Right, or else...

M, S, T, and J: (lights out) We'll flop-flop-flop-flunkadeeeeeeeeee-flop!


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