January 17, 2008

"No, Monkey! No!" - a new play definitely not for kids despite the whole monkey angle - by me, Brendon Etter

No, Monkey! No!


Setting: Bare stage

(Lights up. WOMAN enters, notices brown splotches on the opposite wall of the stage about seven feet off the floor, gets very upset.)

Woman: Monkey!

(MONKEY enters, this should be a man with a rudimentary monkey tail pinned to the seat of his pants, otherwise entirely human)

Monkey: Yeah?

W: (pointing) Look at that!

M: What?

W: The brown! The splotches!

M: Oh.

W: Well?!

M: What?

W: Well!?

M: Hey, don't look at me.

W: I'll look at you all I want! No, Monkey! No! You can't do that!

M: What? I...

W: I can't believe you did it again!

M: No, it...

W: I thought we had come to an understanding.

M: I didn't do it!

W: No, Monkey! No! Don't deny it!

M: But...

W: Don't! You can't do that! You know that!

M: I know, but...

W: What are we going to do about this? I just repainted that wall from the last time.

M: Listen! I didn't do it! I know you don't believe me...

W: Who did then?

M: The cat.

W: We don't have a cat!

M: We had one.

W: Don't bring Kittysaurus into this!

M: But...

W: Don't you dare!

M: I...

W: No!

M: I'm just saying the cat did it.

W: No, she didn't, Monkey! I painted those walls after Kittysaurus died.

M: But...

W: Besides how could the cat get it seven feet off the ground?

M: It had explosive diarrhea.

W: Oh! Don't give me that!

M: It did!

W: Monkey! Just stop the lies, okay? (pause, she collects herself) You can't throw your shit everywhere. You just can't. We have a toilet. Use it. You were potty-trained at the zoo. You're a big monkey now.

M: You don't need to patronize me.

W: I feel like I have to because you're just not getting it. We've been through this before. I thought you understood.

M: I do. It was the cat.

W: Listen. Even if we still had a cat, and even if it was that cat, and even if that cat - (as a run-on, rapid fire sentence) that we no longer have because it died a horrible, horrible death that I wish you would stop reminding me of because I feel guilty enough about it already - had explosive diarrhea, it would not be seven feet off the ground!

M: (quietly) There's a reason for that.

W: Oh! The truth comes out now?

M: I was holding the cat above my...

W: Kittysaurus is dead, Monkey! Dead! Stop it! I killed her! You know how cruel it is for you to bring this up?

M: Stop blaming yourself! Kittysaurus ate what she wasn't supposed to eat.

W: I know, but...

M: She never should have been on the counter...

W: But, my baking...

M: Is God awful, and I never thought it would kill either, but Kittysaurus was a cat. She was curious. Too, too curious.

W: Her little kitty tummy.

M: Could not stand up to your Chocolate Brownie Surprise.

W: No... but I tried so hard.

M: (hugging Woman close) She never should have been on the counter.

W: You're right.

M: No place for kitties.

W: I'm still trying.

M: And I thought you were making progress.

W: (pulling away) What's that supposed to mean?

M: It's just...

W: What?

M: I told you... that's not my feces on the wall.

W: Stop lying, Monkey! You know you throw your shit!

M: I admit I am powerless over poo-flinging.

W: Well, big congratulations on completing the first step of your recovery, but you’re obviously off the wagon now!

M: I am not. That is neither my feces, nor did I fling it.

W: Damn it, Monkey! We don't have a cat!

M: Have you even checked?

W: I know we don't have one!

M: Checked the wall, I mean.

W: What?

M: (very sincere, affectionate) That’s really not my fecal matter.

W: Wait... you mean...

M: The Chocolate Brownie Surprise you made this morning.

W: (who has moved to the wall, sniffed, reached up, scraped some of the brown off the wall, and then tasted it) Ohhh, Monkey.

M: See?

W: I'm so sorry. This doesn't taste like your poop at all.

M: Apology accepted.

W: (moving to hug Monkey, then stopping) Wait, how did it get on the wall though?

M: I... well...

W: Yeah?

M: Ummm... you've just been so depressed lately, with Kittysaurus dying, and then her little cremation ceremony...

W: That was as Kittysaurus wished.

M: Yes, we both know that, of course, but it was so hard on you.

W: She was a dear friend.

M: Yes, she was, but that was so long ago, and I thought that... well...

W: What?

M: We needed to move on.

W: I've been getting better.

M: In my culture... in the Land of the Monkeys... for I am a monkey.

W: Yes, Monkey. I know.

M: In the Land of the Monkeys, we resolve our grief by taking the physical death onto ourselves.

W: Right...

M: Into ourselves, I should say.

W: Okay... (pause) and...

M: I was just so happy that you were going back to your baking.

W: My attempts at baking.

M: So last night, after you picked my nits, and went to bed, I took the adorable urn off the mantle...

W: Kittysaurus's final resting place?!

M: And mixed the ashes in with the sugar.

W: You what?!!

M: In my culture....

W: Fuck your culture! You sick, sick fuck!

M: Hey, I was acting according to my primate programming!

W: So my Chocolate Brownie... (shakes and recoils)

M: ...Surprise! I thought it would end your grief...

W: If I ate Kittysaurus?!

M: Well, her ashes. Was that so wrong?

W: YES!!

M: But...

W: (advancing on Monkey, hitting and crying) You're sick! You can't... I'm going to send you back to...

M: (shielding himself, overlapping her significantly) Wait! Wait! There's more! Wait!

W: More?!

M: Yes.

W: What? You bury the goldfish in the butter?

M: (pause, as Monkey considers this) No. I thought you could use a new kitty.

W: What?

M: So, you know that stray that has been living in the alley?

W: Yes.

M: When you went to work, I brought her into the house.

W: I'm not sure I'm ready... wait, where is she?

M: In my room.

W: Let me go see her.

M: No!

W: I could use a cat to pet right now.

M: Well... it wouldn't be a good idea.

W: What?

M: This new kitty was also curious.

W: Monkey...

M: As kitties often are...

W: Monkey...

M: Too, too curious...

W: No, Monkey...

M: Yes, woman.

W: Don't say it!

M: I must! It is my duty as an honest monkey.

W: No!

M: Yes!

W: No!

M: Yes!

W: Fine! But, quickly.

M: She got on the counter...

W: The Chocolate Brownie...?

M: Kittysaurus Surprise, yes.

W: No!

M: She seemed fine at first...

W: No! No!

M: Just a few bites I think, but...

W: No! Monkey, no!

M: She started mewling and retching...

W: Ohh no, Monkey! No!

M: I remembered that Kittysaurus couldn't get the sticky goop out of her little tummy...

W: Ohhh... Monkey...

M: (miming this as it happened) I picked up the kitty, with my thumbs on her tummy, and I held her above my head...

W: No... No...

M: ...and I tried to shake it out, and I was over by the wall...

W: No...

M: ...but like I said, explosive diarrhea...

W: Did she make it?

M: Sadly, no.

W: And now?

M: We'll need to replace the ashes that you baked...

W: That seems only right.

M: Yes.

W: I'll should build the tiny cremation pyre.

M: I'll get the body.

W: (looking at the splotches) It tasted like chocolate this time.

M: It wasn't in her little tummy for very long, I suppose.

W: Yeah. (long pause, they stare at the splotches) Seen any more cats in the area?

M: Getting pretty thin, but there's always another Kittysaurus, somewhere.

W: (shivering with erotic anticipation, becoming sultry, moving to Monkey) And you're so good at getting...(it should be obvious what she was going to say here)... cats.

M: I have to be; for I am Monkey. My species must prosper!

W: (straddling Monkey's leg, grinding on his thigh, highly aroused) Yes, it must! Fuck the cats! You must fuck the cats!

M: Now, now... we have a job to do.

W: (frustrated, pulling on him) Ohh... come on! The bedroom, Monkey, come on.

M: No. First, we burn the cat. Then, I burn your cat.

W: Promise?

M: I am a Monkey of singular honor.

W: (cuddling into his chest) Ahh... I love our life.

M: We've got so much going for us.

W: (change in tone) Can I be Monkey next time?

M: No... I'm Monkey!

W: You've been Monkey for the last five Kittysauri.

M: (taking off his tail, handing it to her) Oh, alright, but then I'm making Angelfood Cake Surprise.

W: (laughs) Oh, that's truly awful!

M: Yes, it is.

W: Hey, we can use the whiskers as candles! It’s your birthday soon.

M: Yeah! (they rub noses and giggle) Lighter fluid's in the garage.

W: Great! Thanks, sweetie.

(parting ways, exiting opposite sides of the stage)

W: Hey, don't forget that cute little cremation shroud I knitted.

M: Of course, of course.

(lights out)

No comments: