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WELL THEN: AN ADVENTURE IN TWO ACTS - by Baby Hobo on the SA Forums
ACT ONE
DANIEL enters from stage right.
DANIEL: Oh I wish I weren't so rotund. Perhaps I should go for a walk on the treadmill, or lift some heavy weights. Where did I leave my wallet? Oh, there it is. On the kitchen counter.
DANIEL crosses to kitchen counter.
DANIEL: Well, here's my wallet. Yes. It is a wallet. My wife hasn't come home in twenty days. Maybe she got lost in the woods. The woods are full of bears. And capitalism.
MARTY enters from stage left.
MARTY: AOOOAAOAAAAOOOAOAAOAOAAOAOOAAAAOOOO.
MARTY falls down.
DANIEL: That's Fox News for you. All up in the hizzy.
DANIEL dons Groucho glasses and does a jig.
DANIEL: BAA BAA BLACK SHEEP. Well, time to die.
DANIEL takes out a revolver, and shoots himself in the head. Confetti falls from overhead.
MARTY arises, falls down again, and gets back up, holding a poster of the 1968 New York Yankees.
MARTY: Oh bitter despair! From whence doth the cherry orchard toll booth? Danger, Will Robinson, danger! MOTHER???
Enter MOTHER from the audience. She carries an umbrella and a stack of Bon Apetit magazines. She is blind.
MOTHER: What? I can't hear you, I'm blind. And now for a dance break.
Ten small children enter from stage left, all dressed in zombie costumes. They square dance as they sing:
CHILDREN: (Singing)
WELL IT'S TIME TO GO TO SCHOOL
TO LEARN FROM OUR BOOKS
OH WE GOT LOTS OF BOOKS
TO LEARN FROM
AND OUR UNDERWEAR IS STICKY
MOTHER DOESN'T DO THE LAUNDRY
SHE CAN'T DO IT EVER
WHY GOD WHY
THE CHILDREN scatter across the stage. MARTY screams in delight.
MARTY: AAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!
MOTHER slaps MARTY on the head with her umbrella.
MOTHER: Silence, my boy. I know you're working very hard on your new project, so I brought you lunch.
MOTHER shoves an issue of Bon Apetit into MARTY's mouth.
MARTY: MMMFFFFFF
MOTHER: Don't talk with your mouth full. You'll catch pneumonia. Anyways, your father wanted me to tell you he is going to kill himself because you are a terrible son and you will never ever follow in his footsteps as a freelance gardener. Well, goodbye.
MOTHER flies up over the stage, circles around a few times, and soars off stage left.
MARTY: Oh, my project. It's almost done. I'm going to build a fully functional fax machine out of tooth decay. I just need more tooth decay. Where will I get it?
HOBO JOHN enters from a trap door in the middle of the stage. He speaks with a rough Australian accent, wears an eyepatch over his left eye, and he walks with a limp in his right leg.
HOBO JOHN: Allo MAAAARRRTTTYYY!!
MARTY: WELL THEN.
HOBO JOHN: Marty, it's time for me to tell you about your past. (He coughs for about 30 seconds) AAAACCCKKKK AAACCCKKK HURRRKKK BRRRAAAAAKKK AAAAARRRRRKKKK. Sorry.
MARTY: WELL THEN.
HOBO JOHN: You see, Marty, you were born in a subway. I was on that subway, cause I needed to go to the library so I could check out some KAFKA BOOKS and some HOT LIBRARIANS IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
HOBO JOHN elbows MARTY in the ribcage a few times.
MARTY: WELL THEN.
HOBO JOHN: You see, you have a destiny. That destiny is to become the world's greatest projectile vomiter. Well, see you around.
HOBO JOHN throws a smoke bomb onto the stage. He coughs, and exits left long after the smoke clears.
MARTY: WELL THEN.
A single spotlight on MARTY at downstage center.
MARTY: My mother never hugged me as a child. I was never a football player, I never liked soccer, and one time I went bowling and I tried to eat the pins and my god they were not delicious at all that man lied to me that son of a bitch. But god as my witness, I will become the world's best projectile vomiter. Even if it KILLS ME.
He breaks into song.
MARTY: (Singing)
DAAA DAAA DAAA
AAAAA AAAA BAAAA
I'VE GOT THE MUSIC
IN MY BOXERS
OH MY DARLING SARAH
I NEVER LOVED YOU
BUT SOMEDAY WE WILL GO
TO THE MOON
VOMIT VOMIT VOMIT
THAT'S WHAT I GOTTA DO
GONNA DO IT FOR A WHILE
THEN STOP
Enter A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN from the fire exit, setting off an alarm that stops the play for a few minutes as stagehands rush over to fix the problem. Dialogue is shouted over the alarm.
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN: Roses for sale! Roses for sale! I've got roses that can be sold to you if you give me money which I will use to purchase meth!!
MARTY: I think I love you. Dance with me.
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN: I've got VD.
MARTY: WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN: Yep. It burns sometimes.
MARTY: WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH?
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN: Don't you know Spanish?
MARTY: EL WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH-O??
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN: Sorry, I only date the finest in projectile vomiters. Well, off I go to the freeform jazz concert.
THE LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN runs off left, dropping a rose behind her. MARTY picks it up.
MARTY: Wait! You dropped your soup! I'll keep it next to my refridgerator, in my jar of pickles. DANCE TIME!
A LARGE WOMAN runs on stage, punches MARTY in the face, does a pirouette, and runs back offstage.
MARTY: WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!
MARTY lies on stage, and a single spotlight lights him.
MARTY: Oh, I'll never be a projectile vomiter. I don't even know how to vomit correctly.
He dry heaves for a moment, then breaks into tears.
MARTY: DAD YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO VOMIT! I HATE YOU! OOOH I HATE YOU!!!
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY enters from stage right, holding a clipboard and a big gulp.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Marty, is that you? Do you remember me?
MARTY: Doctor Kensingtonworthberry! I remember you! One time I was cleaning your car outside the meat factory, and you stabbed me in the arm with a ballpoint pen! I still have the scar and makeshift tattoo! What are you doing here?
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: I am here to represent a wise teacher or a mentor to you, and I'm here to help you learn how to vomit!
MARTY: Wow, that's not awkward at all! Teach me! Yeah! Teach me! I like to get teached! Oh baby! Yeah yeah! Teaching time! Ok!
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Ok, take your index finger, and place it in your mouth.
MARTY: Ok! (He does this)
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Now, I want you to think of your one true love.
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN enters to the opposite side of the stage. She is a part of MARTY's imagination. She stands motionless for ten seconds, then a large stuffed bear comes flying at her from offstage, hits her in the face, and she falls to the ground.
MARTY: Ok!
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Alright, channel your love into your index finger, and shove it down your throat.
MARTY does this with great intensity, and projectile vomits all over the stage and all over DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY. This can be achieved with placing a fake vomit pump in MARTY's pocket, and running a tube up his sleeve.
MARTY: BLLLAAARRGGHHHHH. BRRRRAAAAAKKKPPPRRRRR. RREEAAAAATTCCHHH.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: (Covered in vomit, with genuine delight) By the feathered beared of Robot Leonardo Da Vinci, you've got it!
MARTY: YEEEEEAAAAHHHH I CAN VOMIT!
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Well, I guess you'd better get over to the Fourth Annual Projectile Vomiting Open Challenge Extravaganza!
MARTY: WELL THEN.
Lights fade to black. Enter A FIGURE, so dimly lit that you can't even make out his face.
A FIGURE: Yes... Soon now... Very soon... Eventually... Sometime... MMMWWWAAAAAHHHHAAAHAHAHAHAHAA!
Curtain.
END ACT ONE
ACT TWO
Curtain up. We see MARTY and DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY in an arena. There is a small wrestling mat downstage left, and a bunch of VOMITERS are mulling about upstage.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Well, here we are at the Fourth Annual Projectile Vomiting Open Challenge Extravaganza! I can't believe we made it past the qualifing round!
MARTY: I'm so happy, I could just VOMIT!
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Save it for the competition. See that guy over there, he's Dirk Baskwell, he's the returning champion.
DIRK BASKWELL approaches MARTY from the crowd, and gets all up in his grill. He is wearing a wrestling outfit, and has a plastic brace on his index finger.
DIRK BASKWELL: So, you're the new kid, huh? Think you can beat me, huh? Think you're hot stuff, huh? Huh?
MARTY: WELL THEN.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Let me do the talking, Marty. (to Dirk) Why don't you go stick your head in a toilet, has-been?
DIRK BASKWELL: BUDDY, I've been vomiting since before you even knew what acid reflux was!
MARTY: OH SNAP.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Shut up, Marty. What's that on your hand, Dirk? Some kind of lemon-scented prophylactic?
DIRK BASKWELL: HA HA HA. No. Actually, it's a brace that will ensure my victory. It keeps my index finger rigid and tense, allowing me to channel all my energy into each vomit. Well, I'd better get going, it's almost time to start! See ya, raspberry loaves! (Exits into crowd)
MARTY: WELL THEN.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: I think you've got a mental disease. Ok, let's go over the game plan again.
MARTY: I'm gonna vomit till I can't vomit no more!
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: That's right! (Lights dim) Oh boy, here we go!
ANNOUNCER: (V.O.) Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, pancake lovers across the world, welcome to the Fourth Annual Projectile Vomiting Open Challenge Extravaganza! Please welcome to the ring... Returning champion DIIIIRRRKKKK BAAAAAASSSSKKKWWWEEEELLLL!!!
DIRK BASKWELL approaches the ring, and dances a little jig. He makes an absurd motion with his hands, involving slapping his ass, sticking his pinky fingers up his nostrils, and pretending to hold binoculars up to his eyes.
ANNOUNCER: (V.O.) And tonight's challenger... MAAAAAARRRRTTTYYYY!!!
MARTY approaches the ring, and spins in a circle.
MARTY: I don't have a last name!
ANNOUNCER: (V.O) Here are the rules. Whoever manages to get the most vomit on their opponent is the winner. Extra points are given for distance and potency of the vomit. I like kittens. Let's vomit!
Colorful and strobing lighting. MARTY and DIRK BASKWELL talk trash to eachother in between projectile vomits and dodging their opponent's vomits.
DIRK BASKWELL: Hey kid, I bet you don't even know what time it is! HRRAAAKKKK!
MARTY: I lost my watch at the parade! BLLAAARRRGGGHH!
DIRK BASKWELL: What parade? The parade where they celebrate people who can't vomit properly? I remember that parade. I read about it in the newspaper, and then I vomited on the newspaper. PPPLAAAAAAHHHHHHRRRRRRGGGG!
MARTY: You're so ugly that when people see you on the street, they say "Wow, that is one ugly person." BLAAAAAKKK!
DIRK BASKWELL: I was the homecoming king! I was so happy I vomited pure diesel!
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: (Offstage) Marty! Remember your true love!
Everyone freezes. A single spotlight lights A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN downstage left. She stands perfectly still as before for 10 seconds, and then A LARGE WOMAN runs up to her and throws her over her shoulder.
A LARGE WOMAN: CHCHCHCHCHCHCHCHCH!
THE LARGE WOMAN runs offstage carrying A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN. Spotlight fades, everyone remains frozen, except for MARTY.
MARTY: WELL THEN.
MARTY takes a dramatic stance, shoves his finger down his throat, and projectile vomits onto DIRK BASKWELL. As soon as the vomit hits him, everyone regains motion. DIRK BASKWELL gets covered in vomit, and falls to the floor in tears.
DIRK BASKWELL: I'll never be a marine now!
THE CROWD cheers, DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY approaches MARTY.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Excellent job, Marty. But I have something to tell you.
MARTY drops his mouth wide open.
MARTY: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
A trophy is thrown at/to MARTY from offstage. He picks it up, and grins.
MARTY: WELL NOW.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Shut up and listen to me. I know you thought I was helping you, but I'm actually an evil druid from the Order of the Cantaloupe. That trophy is mine!
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY grabs the trophy from MARTY, and starts running offstage left.
MARTY: NO! MY SHINY THING!
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN runs in from offstage left, barrels into DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY, grabs the trophy, and smacks him in the groin with it.
DOCTOR KENSINGTONWORTHBERRY: Ow! My groin! I'm nothing without my testicles! (He dies)
MARTY: It's you! The lady that makes me vomit!
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN: Marty, I love you. I knew I loved you the moment I heard you whisper those sweet nothings into my ear. Say it again, Marty, say it again.
MARTY: WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN: (Audibly experiencing an orgasm from hearing this) OOOOHHHH. Oh yes, that's it. That's it, Marty. Kiss me, Marty.
MARTY: But I've got vomit in my mouth!
A LONELY ROSE SALESWOMAN: I don't care, I've got VD!
They kiss. Curtain.
END ACT TWO
Epilogue
HOBO JOHN appears on stage, sitting in a wheelchair.
HOBO JOHN: Well, that's the story. Marty got the girl, Doctor Kensingtonworthberry was defeated, Dirk Baskwell got vomit all over him, and I found this fancy chair in a dumpster. I guess everything turned out alright.
He stands.
HOBO JOHN: Well, I suppose you want a moral now, don't ya. Here it is, and pay attention because I'm only gonna say it once. Sometimes when you go to a restaurant, you order a nice plate of fries, and you sprinkle some salt on the fries. And you taste one of them, and you realize it's missing something. So you pick up the ketchup bottle on the table, take off the cap, and turn it upside down over your plate. But the bottle is glass, and no ketchup comes out. So you smack the bottom of the bottle, and still nothing comes out. So you curse and scream and get really angry, and eventually you just throw the bottle onto the ground, and the glass smashes and ketchup gets everywhere. Well, good night.
Curtain.
END OF PLAY