January 4, 2007

A Play A Day #266



Setting: Restaurant.

Sy: She's not my type.

Ty: She is.

Sy: I like my women to be smarter than beautiful.

Ty: She's both.

Sy: Well...

Ty: It's perfect; you can't go wrong.

Sy: Get off my funnel.

Ty: What?

Sy: Lamplight dictates sponge.

Ty: Sy, what the hell are you saying?

Sy: Shit... did I say something weird again?

Ty: Ummm... yeah. Again?

Sy: This has been happening to me a lot. I think I caught something at that one bar we went to last week... the... uhh... what was it?

Ty: Le Philosophe?

Sy: Yeah, Le Philosophe.

Ty: You caught some sort of random speaking bug?

Sy: No. I say what comes out of my mind.

Ty: "Lamplight dictates..." uhhh... "sponge"? That's what you said.

Sy: Yeah, that's pretty weird.

Ty: So you're sick?

Sy: No, not really.

Ty: What then?

Sy: I say what's in my mind, but my mind says whatever it wants.

Ty: Okay... ummmm...?

Sy: (sighing) What my mind comes up with seems completely random to anyone hearing it.

Ty: So how is this something you caught at Le Philosophe?

Sy: Well... yes, I don't think I have free will anymore.

Ty: What do you mean?

Sy: I'm pretty sure I'm not controlling what I'm saying or doing anymore.

Ty: How?

Sy: Everything's been determined ahead of time.

Ty: No it hasn't. You're talking fine right now.

Sy: But it's all being done by me as an automaton... I'm a wind-up toy, Ty.

Ty: No, you're not. You're Sy. You are behaving according to free will right now.

Sy: Stimulus-response, that's all. No control.

Ty: That's nonsense.

Sy: No control. I swear.

(waiter approaches)

Waiter: Are you ready to order, sir?

Ty: Yes, I'll the big bowl garden salad with balsamic viniagrette on the side, and the house merlot, a large glass.

Waiter: And for you?

Sy: I'll have the flattened racoon covered in human feces.

Waiter: Raw or pan-seared?

Sy: Raw. And make sure you keep the fur on.

Waiter: Of course, and to drink?

Sy: A Diet Dysentery Fizz with a socket wrench.

Waiter: Thank you. (collects menus and leaves)

Sy: The morning after Le Philosophe, I woke up feeling funny, and it's been getting worse ever since. I don't even notice... what? Ty? What's wrong?

Ty: (pause) Racoon isn't even on the menu.

Sy: Is that what I ordered?

Ty: Covered in human feces?

Sy: Whoa... now it's happening to you.

Ty: No, that's what you ordered.

Sy: Gross, but remember, I didn't order it. It just happened.

Ty: But, the waiter didn't even bat an eye.

Sy: It's pre-determined. He wasn't supposed to notice or care.

Ty: But it's not on the menu!

Sy: Yeah. I believe you, because I have to.

Ty: Sy, this isn't funny. You have to ability to choose food that the restaurant actually serves, not some joke meal that no one would ever make.

Sy: No. Sorry. I know this is hard to believe.

Ty: You had better believe that this is... (Sy stabs him in the hand with his fork, Ty screams)

Sy: (holding his hands up to the imagined onlookers) Hey! Okay! Everything fine here people! (pointing to self) No free will! None at all! Fate is quite cruel. Please go back to your meals.

Ty: (has removed the fork, staunching the flow of blood with his napkin) What the hell...

Sy: Sorry, Ty. Not my fault.

Ty: Bullshit, it's not your fault.

Sy: No free will; I can't have done it. I mean I was the agent for the action, but I didn't control it in any way.

Ty: You're sick! No one else is controlling what you do or say! It's you, and you're sick!

Sy: I wish I could prove it to you in some way. Of course, it would only be possible to do so if it had been decided by external forces.

Ty: Repeat after me, Sy: I contrive slapping rainbows! (he sits back in shock)

Sy: See.

Ty: Did I... did I just say...?

Sy: That you contrive slapping rainbows? Uh-huh.

Ty: But... that... wait... that's what I wanted to say... so why...?

Sy: That's what someone or something wanted you to say; so, you said it. You had no choice.

Ty: No.

Sy: Yes. I'm afraid that's... (Ty stabs himself in the other hand with the fork and screams)

Ty: (to imagined onlookers) Sorry! That was me! Sorry! I did that! An accident; that's all! (leaves fork in his hand, staring at it)

Sy: Don't be so hard on yourself... you didn't do that!

Ty: This is all wrong. Sy! No one, I repeat, no one else controls what I do or what I say! It's simply not possible! Only I have the ability... (he continues speaking, but no sound comes out)

Sy: Can't hear you.

Ty: (more speaking, no sound)

Sy: Hey, don't worry; it's not your fault.

Ty: (continues his silent tirade, gesticulating his bloody forked hand wildly)

Sy: Welcome to the club.

Ty: (more silent speaking)

(lights fade)


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hah, great work.

Looking forward to reading more.

And possibly see it at the Cabaret next weekend? :D

-Alyssa Sison