Developed script for a theatre piece Sophomore year of college; plot covers a playwright trying to create a work about his childhood as he struggles to contend with the various characters in his head that attempt to take control of his mind and escape into reality.

1. TURMOIL
BY
DANIEL J HOISCH

2. 2
Scene I
Downstage right, there is a writing desk. That is it. The lighting presents a dim and empty
tone, like the belly of a basement, cold, dark, and metallic. More accurately, it is a mind
trapped in uncertainty, one that wants to write, but cannot figure out out how to begin. A
figure walks onstage from the right wing and moves downstage. The figure bumps into
the fourth wall and feels around for an exit. One by one, seven other figures emerge from
the wings: three from stage right and four from stage left. They all search frantically for
an exit but cannot seem to find one. The stage has become a prison. The lights brighten
instantly, and the eight figures come out in detail. They all shield their eyes for a moment,
as if they had spent 100 years in a cave. But they regain composure and begin to search
for an answer.
FIGURE 1: Where am I? What is this place? Who are you people? If this is some kind of
kidnapping (backs away slowly), I’m warning you...I got mad skills! (Takes a battle
stance).
FIGURE 7: Don’t be so dramatic! I hate dramatists. They drive me nuts.
FIGURE 2: Well I love the dramatics. You know I always wanted to be an actor. They
have it all....
FIGURE 6: Yeah. All the fame and money. Yummm.
FIGURE 4: And the free stuff. Don’t forget all the free food and goodies.
FIGURE 2: Why can’t that be me!
FIGURE 5: But then there’s the paparazzi, the constant rehearsals, and actually having to
interact with people. Yuck! And memorizing line after line after line. I think I’d rather
spend my life on the couch.

3. 3
FIGURE 3: But the chicks ull love yuh. Remember that. An actor holds a set of keys to
any girl’s knickers. All the sex ull make up for anything.
FIGURE 7: Wow. I don’t know which one I hate the most: the annoying dramatist or the
perverted sex-maniac.
While this dialogue is going on, one gets a distinct sense that each character exists in
their own private dimension. Number 8 breaks the cycle and moves to group center. She
should be the only one focusing on the circumstances at hand
FIGURE 8: Okay guys, back to the million-dollar question. What are we doing here?
Does anyone remember what happened earlier? Anyone at all?
FIGURE 1: I remember! (Upstages 8. Pause).
FIGURE 7: Yes Mr. Dramatic?
FIGURE 1: There was a flash. A bright light. Suddenly I was hurtling through a universe
of connectors. A myriad of cables. A portal of creation. And then there was an empty
space. I can’t describe it. But suddenly I knew that I had been chosen. I was the center of
everything. The key to it all. Then, a flash of lightning struck. And I had arms, legs, a
torso, and a head. I became whole, instead of just a mere stream of consciousness. And
then, a portal opened. And I was dumped into the right wing of this decrepit theatrical
construct, with all of you...lesser beings.
(Pause. Figure 7 walks up to 1 and flagrantly flicks him on the nose.)
FIGURE 1: Ouch! Shit man. What’s your problem?
FIGURE 7: I said I hate dramatists. But I hate narcissists even more.
FIGURE 8: Come to think of it, I remember the same thing.
(All the other figures nod and adlib in agreement.)

4. 4
FIGURE 2: It did seem like we were traveling through some sort of network.
FIGURE 3: But how did we end up here? We’re trapped like rats in a box.
FIGURE 2: No. A rat could get out this place easily. We’re more along the lines of fish in
a barrel.
FIGURE 8: Does anyone remember anything before flying through the universe?
(Everyone looks at one another and shakes their head “No”. They all take a seat on the
apron.)
FIGURE 4: It’s like we didn’t even exist before then. I don’t remember anything. Just
that big jump through time. But I’m so hungry and I don’t know why. I feel like I came
here to eat everything in sight. Is there food? Anywhere? Just a welcoming buffet is
enough. (Fidgety. As if she hasn’t eaten in three days)
FIGURE 1: I feel like the greatest and most awesome thing in the universe. I think you
would all be better if you just tried to be like me
FIGURE 2: I feel like the most unfortunate soul out there. Like everyone just has more
than I do. I wish I were someone else, anyone but me.
FIGURE 7: I feel like hating everyone for no reason at all. I want to take it out on
everyone. And then I would plant my fist into the ground and break the world in two. No!
Forget that. It’s two merciful. A nuclear holocaust. Now that’s what they deserve.
FIGURE 6: If I had some money I could buy us all out of here. Money solves all your
problems. There really isn’t anything it can’t fix. And you can never have too much. It’s
a rich man’s world.
FIGURE 8: Don’t you need a person who can take the money and do the job?

5. 5
FIGURE 5: I’m too tired to think or care right now. I will be perfectly fine being stuck
here for a day, just as long as I don’t have to work, or talk, or think. (Lays down on back
and stares at the ceiling.)
FIGURE 3: I just wanna fuck a white girl.
FIGURE 8: This doesn’t seem to be getting us anywhere. (Stands center group) Does
anyone actually know what’s going on? Because I’m clueless. But I would like an
answer. (To the ceiling, as if to God)
OFFSTAGE VOICE: You are here because I summoned you? (All the figures stare
offstage, eyes wide open)
(Enter Playwright from stage right wing. He is in his early thirties. At first glance he
looks to be a man of authority and control. But a further inspection would reveal this
only to be a facade. He is the type of man who can only fake control of a situation. There
is the ever-small shade of a deep inner turmoil reflecting off of his appearance. He is the
type of person who longs for the pleasure of creation through expression, but cannot
seem to find peace in the process. He is the person who has tried time and time again to
write a piece, and each time he failed due to his mental imbalance.)
FIGURE 8: What?
PLAYWRIGHT: You are here because I summoned you. All of you. You comprise a
specific group of characters for a play that I have been working on for some time now.
Ten years to be precise. It is a play detailing the highlights of my life’s story, and there
are many highlights to be detailed. This is the eighth attempt that I have given to
composing such a piece. The other seven have been dismal failures. Hopefully with this
one, I will have better luck.

6. 6
FIGURE 7: But what are we exactly?
PLAYWRIGHT: You are thoughts. Constructs of my consciousness created to be shaped
into the characters that I have imagined for over a decade. Right now each of you is a
silhouette waiting to be dyed a specific color. That is why I have brought you all here.
FIGURE 2: A thought? That’s one of the lowest things out there. I wanna be human.
FIGURE 5: So you had to trap us in a box to give us a paintjob? Why all the confusion
and delay? You could have given us the 411 before you dumped us in here.
PLAYWRIGHT: My mind got away from me. It happens sometimes. I’m eating my
lunch, but then I feel like writing. There’s an on-off switch for this stuff. It self-activates
at the most random moments. Nothing I can do about it. But now that you’re all here, we
can get to work. Eighth time’s the charm. (Moves to his desk downstage right and takes
out an old-fashioned typewriter from the drawer.)
FIGURE 8: A typewriter? How very old fashioned.
PLAYWRIGHT: I almost went for my laptop, but I think the old fashioned ways might
help give some inspiration. I mean it beats staring at a computer screen for five hours a
day
FIGURE 6: If this play kicks ass, we can sell it, maybe for millions. Always consider the
possibilities.
FIGURE 4: And if we get money, think of all the cool stuff we can buy...a hot tub, ten
different cars, a dozen sexy outfits, a lifetime supply of bacon, six different types of
cleaning solution, twenty paddle balls, fifty yoyos, an entire army of GI Joe action
figures, a truck full of yu-gi-oh cards...(continues to list off things to herself in a muffled
voice while Figure 3 crosses downstage.)

7. 7
FIGURE 3: (Pause. Thinks for a moment. Connects the dots.) Girls love playwrights.
(It is obvious that as a series of characters-to-be, none of these entities are capable of
directly interacting with the outside world. Therefore their personal desires hold little
logic or sense. Instead, they are not personal. They are extensions of the playwright’s
desires and feelings, signifying the obstacles that will hold him back throughout his
creative process. These sins and desires must be broken if he is to succeed.)
Scene II
All eight figures are assembled in a line on the apron. The playwright sits at his desk,
focused intently on his typewriter
FIGURE 1: So, what’s your play about? Do we have cool names? Am I the lead
character? I think I would make a great lead. I...(Figure 7 gives 1 a hateful glare. His
nostrils flare like a bull. 1 zips his lips shut.)
PLAYWRIGHT: I haven’t come up with any character names yet. So for the time being,
I will assign each of you a number to make things simpler and give you all a sense of
identity. Boys will be odd, and girls will be even. And please, remember your number.
Now then...(Walks down the line assigning the appropriate number to the appropriate
figure) Does anyone need a repeat?
FIGURES: (In unison, kind of. The boys sound a little unsure.) No. We’re good.
FIGURE 5: So what’s your play about? It’s not too long I hope.
PLAYWRIGHT: (Takes a deep breath.) This play is a recollection of some of the
greatest and worst years of my life. The years that destroyed one character, and built
another. I am the man I am today because of my childhood and my teen years. And it is
in my best interest to make it as accurate and as meaningful as possible. Each of you will

8. 8
be playing a character within my life that held a powerful influence over my personality.
Throughout the process I will be calling you one at a time onstage to create the character
I wish to build. Everyone else can wait in the wings.
FIGURE 2: But you’ll set us free as soon as you write your play. Right? I mean, we’re
not just slaves to your own creative process. Are we?
FIGURE 5: Didn’t you hear him? We’re here because he created us. We exist only as
streams of consciousness synthesized by the mind. We are only real to him.
FIGURE 8: But after he completes his play, we’ll have a stronger position. We may not
ever exist completely as tangible matter, but we will still be made known to anyone who
reads the play. And that’s enough for me.
FIGURE 7: Fuck your play, fuck your plans, and fuck your life. (Second sentence spoken
out of earshot of the other seven.) I’m not working with any of these pus bubbles.
PLAYWRIGHT: You would do good to take that back!
FIGURE 7: Why? We’re just a figment of your imagination. They’re no consequences
for us. We’re like random clouds of thought with nothing to live for.
PLAYWRIGHT: That’s right. You are fragments of my own imagination. I thought each
of you up. And as such, I can unthink you all just as easily. I really wanted to go bowling
tonight, but instead I said, “No, I’m going to wright my play.” Would you rather I did
something else instead?
(Some of the figures shake their heads “no” out of sync. Some mumble “No” instead)
PLAYWRIGHT: Then be thankful I haven’t started thinking of something else yet. Now
then, Figure 1 you stay up front. Everyone else move to the wings (Snaps both hands.
The other figures back away at normal pace before splitting at center stage. Three go

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left, and four go right) And you! (Points to 7) Don’t you ever curse or make idle threats
in my presence again. I will fuck you over so hard you will spend the rest of your life
eating through a tube!
FIGURE 7: I’m a thought. I can’t eat...or sleep...or piss or shit.
(Playwright pauses to recognize the error of his own line)
FIGURE 7: Who’s making idle threats now. (Exit left wing)
(The playwright stares into the audience, dumbfounded at what he just said.)
PLAYWRIGHT: It gets harder every time. (Lights out.)
Scene III
(Follow spot on other seven figures. Playwright is unaware of this scene. Set in an
entirely different space)
FIGURE 7: He won’t do it. There’s no way he’ll be able to make all of us into a desired
set of characters. He’s too sensitive. Easily manipulated. With enough push, we can turn
the tables and make him into anything we want.
FIGURE 2: Such a weak-minded writer. He is one person I wouldn’t want to be like.
FIGURE 6: That little act he put on during our first meet...he actually thought he was in
charge. Him! I’d hate to break it to that guy, but it’s completely the other way around.
FIGURE 1: (Offstage) Hey, what are you guys talking about?
FIGURE 5: We’re thinking about taking control of our writer and making him our own
personal slave in the world.
FIGURE 1: Oh cool! Count me in. I bet I can make him my personal slave faster than
you guys can.
FIGURE 3: You do that Figure 1...you little dipshit. (Aside)

10. 10
FIGURE 2: That is another person I wouldn’t want to be like.
FIGURE 7: So we’re all agreed to force him into failure and make ourselves real through
his mind.
ALL: (Minus 8) Yup! (Adlib something of that nature.)
FIGURE 8: He’s going to make it.
FIGURE 4: He failed 7 times. What’s so different about this one?
FIGURE 8: Because he’s got me. That’s all that there is too it. I suddenly realized that
our job is to help him tell the story, by any means necessary. We are not slaves. We are
allies.
FIGURE 7: Don’t preach, and don’t act so high and mighty. You’re just as much a slave
as the rest of us.
FIGURE 4: We need solid ground to stand on. We could do so much more if we were in
control of his head.
FIGURE 6: As opposed to being stuck in a book until the end of time.
FIGURE 8: You people are so blind! We will exist to bring happiness to readers
everywhere. We will take form in the play that he composes. Is that not good enough for
you all?
ALL: NO!
FIGURE 7: We would rather wreck his personality, ensnare his mind, and dominate his
thoughts and actions until the end of time. That makes us more real than any shitty play.
FIGURE 8: Then you will fail. I’ll get to him before any of you can, and I’ll show him
real inspiration and real passion. I’ll make sure he tells his story. And you’d better do

11. 11
something about that mouth of yours. Because we’re going to be spending a lot of time
together once this play is written.
FIGURE 7: Suit yourself. Now fuck off before I unveil my ugly side.
FIGURE 8: I thought you were already there.
FIGURE 7: Not even close.
(Follow spot out.)
Scene IV
(Figure 1 is positioned down center with the Playwright seated at his desk. The process
begins.)
FIGURE 1: So what kind of character am I playing? Do I get a cool outfit? I mean I’ll
look good in anything but I’m just curious. Are you curious about how your play will
turn out? I bet I can be curiouser than you. Ha. I could be curiouser than that monkey
who was curious. What was his name? Oh yeah, that’s right: Curious George. And he’s
supposed to be the king of curious. I could probably climb higher than him too. I got
monkey blood in my veins. And then some. I can scale mountaintops a hundred times
like it was nothing, and come back down ready for more action. Of course I guess that
makes me part mountain goat too. Man oh man. I’m going to make a great character.
Have you ever thought about making this just a one-man show?
PLAYWRIGHT: Figure 1, zip the lip. This is my play. I’m in charge and I make the
rules. I am your God and you are my subject. Nothing is more important than me right
now. Let’s get to work. (Long observant pause) Now...when I look at you, I see an old
friend. One of the only one I had at the time. (Begins to type) He was almost like an older
brother to me. I never really had any other male roll models to look up to. I felt safe

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around him. Secure. He knew how to make me laugh, and how to make the sun shine
bright on a bad day. He was the type of person with extreme confidence, but unlike you,
he never let it ruin his character. He was so observing of how others perceived him, and
he cared about other people’s thoughts and feelings. Just not so much that he forgot about
his own. (As he types, Figure 1 slowly changes into a neutral stance, followed by a happy
macho stance, almost like the type of guy everyone could fall in love with. He poses
throughout much of the dialogue.) He was everything I was not. When I was his age, I
was overly confident. I often got myself into some of the stupidest situations for taking in
more than I could chew. But he always warned me when I was going in over my head,
protecting me, shielding me, just like an older brother. I miss him so much.
(By now the Playwright is lost in his imagination. He comes off as an old man reflecting
on better times.) Boy oh boy, how the time flies by. I could really have used his advice
these past few years. I failed seven different times. I bet he could have kept me on track.
FIGURE 1: But what did he have that you didn’t? (The Playwright’s spell is broken)
PLAYWRIGHT: Huh? (Nearly dosing off)
FIGURE 1: You heard me. What did he have that you didn’t? It’s thoughts like that
which can destroy your self-esteem and make you into the lowest loser of the bunch.
PLAYWRIGHT: I worked for years to develop a sense of modesty and humility. It’s true
that I lowered my expectations, but I never thought that I was beneath everyone else.
FIGURE 1: But you did back then. You let this so-called friend of yours trample all over
your face in school by thinking he was better you. (Playwright tries to speak out, but
Figure 1 cuts him off. The stage is now his for this scene.) I’m going to tell you now. You
can’t ever...and I mean EVER...think that you are beneath anyone. Because you are not.

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If anything you are above everyone. Humility? HA! Modesty? HA! “I think. Therefore I
am.” I think I’m the best, I probably am. You just have to keep telling yourself that you
are the greatest writer to have ever grace the planet, and that no play will ever compete
with ours. I could be 10 times better at giving you advice than this friend of yours. I could
probably write your play myself if I chose to. Just give me your mind, body, and soul,
and I can make your writing sparkle. And just think how good you’ll feel when you write
the greatest masterpiece performed onstage. (Playwright begins panting and huffing. It is
almost as if he is trying to block something off. A little piece of darkness is trying to enter
him.) It’s all a matter of how you perceive yourself that defines your work. So just give
yourself over to me, and I will build you up to God’s kingdom.
PLAYWRIGHT: ENOUGH!!! (He stops the panting. Begins typing rapidly) You were
the one who always gave me the extra push. You always helped me to go the extra mile
and pulled me back if I ever went overboard.
FIGURE 1: Why even write about such a man. I have more credit than he does. You
should write about me instead
PLAYWRIGHT: And for that, I welcome you into my play, Jeremy. I wish I had a name
for your character at the moment, but right now I need to focus on recollecting old
memories of people. This play will not use any of your real names because I can’t bear to
write in detail the events that transpired over the years of my youth.
FIGURE 1: Maybe because they’re not as interesting as I am. Whoooo. Look at me.
(Makes a funky face) Look at me! (Does a little dance) LOOK AT ME!!! (Jumping up
and down and screaming his lungs out.)

14. 14
PLAYWRIGHT: (Overlaps) And so I wish to keep a percentage of this script within the
realm of fiction, primarily in the names. But rest assured the truth will come out as clear
as it can. I will recreate you onstage very soon Jeremy. (As he types, Figure 1 takes a
neutral position before being instilled with an attractive smile, almost as though it were
forced in place of something uglier and unattractive. 1 leaves the stage via right wing.)
PLAYWRIGHT: One down. This play is going to kick ass. (Quick pause) They come out
when I’m working. They always come out when I’m working.
Scene V
PLAYWRIGHT: All right Figure 2. It’s your turn now. Come on out so we can make this
as painless as possible.
(Enter Figure 2 from the left wing)
FIGURE 2: Everyone else is going to be better at this. I guarantee it. I don’t have any
skill in character development. I want it, but I don’t have it. I could steal it, but that
would be wrong, and unfeasible, given that talent is not an animate object that can be
taken away.
PLAYWRIGHT: Have a little more confidence in your abilities Figure 2. You’re only the
second one onstage. You only saw figure 1. For all you know, you could be the best out
of the bunch.
FIGURE 2: I like your typewriter. It’s very old fashioned. Very antiquey. I want one just
like it. Why shouldn’t I have one just like it? I deserve to have one just like it. Then I
could write a smash hit play like Shakespeare or Ibsen, or maybe even Tony Kushner. Oh
wait, I can’t write plays. I wish I could. All those famous playwrights knew what they

15. 15
were doing. I don’t know squat about writing plays. I can steal a typewriter, but I can’t
steal talent. Why is it so frustrating to lack something that you can’t steal?
PLAYWRIGHT: You remind me of Jeremy’s girlfriend. She was always jealous of the
relationship we shared. She thought I might actually be a homosexual plotting to steal
him away from her. But you see, I didn’t want to take him away. I just wanted a friend.
And he had so many. Certainly a popular guy like him could spare a few, right? But no.
Friends aren’t things that you can just give away like trading cards. They find one person
to stick with and another to shun. That’s the order of life. I just wish that 90 percent of
the time I wasn’t the one that they found to shun. I just wanted a collection of friends!
Not one. A collection. Is that so difficult? (Playwright regains his senses and realizes
where this is taking him. He immediately resumes work on his typewriter as 2 breaks into
her monologue.)
FIGURE 2: Everyone has something you want. Everyone has something you need. And
everyone has something you deserve. Sometimes that “something” can be taken the old
fashioned way. Other times you have to take stronger measures. If it’s a trait of the mind,
you shadow that person, and learn their secrets. But in the long run, you are never fully
satisfied. The little green monster inside of you is always skin and bone. When you walk
outside, you feel like everyone else is looking down on you. And that’s how you know
that you are lacking in something. And you pity yourself and feel that reflection of
fortune off of everyone else, and you ask yourself why it can’t be you. And the stronger
your desires grow, the stronger your will becomes. So you see, you must always have
something to cherish from others, or you’ll soften like a peach. Jealousy is what drives
the human will power. It’s not romance or attachment. It’s not peer pressure. And it’s not

16. 16
a desire to protect or to do good or any of that lovey-dubby horseshit. The animosity for a
fellow man for holding what you covet; that is what drives us. We are programmed to
outdo each other.
PLAYWRIGHT: Exactly like his girlfriend. Jealousy is what did her in. If she had
stopped for even one moment to consider how Jeremy really felt about her, she wouldn’t
be living the life she is today: alone in an apartment with a tank of 50 goldfish.
FIGURE 2: Well he shouldn’t have grown so attached to you. It was either you or her.
And he made his choice. Don’t you feel just a little of what she felt? With all of the
friends he had that you didn’t? Didn’t he spend more time with his little pals than they
deserved. Didn’t you look up to him like an older brother? Aren’t older brothers
supposed to be there when you need them?
PLAYWRIGHT: (Listens intently, and then continues his typing) She didn’t even have a
cat. They all ran away from her, like her boyfriends. She couldn’t find the heart to give
even one of them a social life. She was too preoccupied to keep them from leaving. I
guess after several years of failed relationships, she turned to pets instead. Five cats were
locked inside her apartment at the same time for nearly a year. A giant closet would be a
better way to describe it. She was afraid they would go out to see other women.
FIGURE 2: Well they were her cats. She has a right to protect them. Why shouldn’t she
have kept them locked up? It’s a rule of life: You can’t trust anyone but yourself!
PLAYWRIGHT: No! You’re wrong. I’ve put my trust many people over the years. I will
admit that some of my relationships ended badly, and for a while I felt just like you. But
you see, Jeremy’s ex showed me just how miserable a person could be with an attitude
like yours. (2 slowly starts to back away upstage) At least she still has her goldfish. But

17. 17
honestly, it’s only a matter of time before they become suicidal. I learned how dangerous
her kind was a long time ago. And I will be sure to express it wholeheartedly in this play.
So thank you, Jill. You were a pain in the ass for the both of us, but in the long run, you
taught me one important lesson...never be or have anything to do with someone like you.
(Figure 2 has moved completely up stage. She turns left, and exits solemnly)
Scene VI
PLAYWRIGHT: Figure 3, you’re up. Do your worst. I dare you.
(Figure 3 enters from right wing)
FIGURE 3: I dare you to drop that old typewriter and go lick some pussy.
PLAYWRIGHT: You would have gotten along great with my father. He thought with his
dick too. That was always the most important thing in his life, even more important than
his own daughter. (Pause) You crippled me Dad. And for that I should hate you for all
time. I can’t exactly say whether it was the alcohol or your personality, but you made me
watch just the same, at the age of eight. The nightmare stayed with me for years. It’s still
there somewhere, deep in the recesses of my perverted mind.
FIGURE 3: Well we all got one of those. But why deny it. Humans are animals by nature.
And by the laws of nature, it is necessary to carry on our lineage, or risk the death of our
bloodline. But you see, it’s not enough to have just one outlet. You need to raise your
odds. Nature built people like me into sex maniacs for a reason. We exist to expand our
lineage. And when you think about it, isn’t every man competing against the other.
Aren’t we trying to build up our numbers to take down the other families? It’s like an act
of war. Human beings are designed to go at each other’s throats. After all who wouldn’t
want to rule the world? There’s strength in numbers. All you have to do is find them.

18. 18
PLAYWRIGHT: Would that include violating your sister and making you watch?
FIGURE 3: Dad wanted to give you the strength and understanding to make your own
way in the world. There’s nothing wrong with inbreeding. You just have to look away
from the law. Remember, all is fair in acts of war. Man vs. man. That’s the formula for
life. Women are just unfortunate enough to have gotten caught in the crossfire.
PLAYWRIGHT: You expect me to buy into your bullshit? Well I won’t. But my father
would have. He actually lived by it. And do you know what that got him? 10 years in
prison and a life-long label as a sex offender. I am not him!
FIGURE 3: You have the same blood. You come from the same family. He lives in you
as you do in him. Why don’t you just put down the typewriter, forget about your play,
and go get some pussy.
PLAYWRIGHT: Dad, I looked up to you for all those years. You meant the world to me,
until I saw your true colors. You should have kept them under wraps. If I had never
known what kind of man you were, it would have been enough. I never even knew our
mother. I guess that’s just because she left you. I can see why now. I’m lucky I even exist
at all. If I were her, I would have aborted myself a long time ago. That was probably only
my half sister I saw you fuck over. You must have had a dozen different families by then.
FIGURE 3: He enjoyed it. You would have enjoyed it too if you gave it a shot.
PLAYWRIGHT: You put this thing inside of me. And it grapples with my conscience
every night. The sad truth is that I did enjoy it. I enjoyed watching you. But that’s how
we live, isn’t it? Even if we can’t deny our very nature, we can at least keep it at bay for
the sake of the people we love.

19. 19
FIGURE 3: You’ll never get some pussy with that outlook. Love is imaginary. It doesn’t
exist. It’s make-believe. We fake it to give our dicks justice. What else can I say to get
you off of your “moral high horse”?
PLAYWRIGHT: Nothing. We’re done. I may have my father’s dirty blood. But I have
made it a part of my life to walk away from every step that he took. I don’t need a dozen
families on my conscious. Just one is enough for me. Now crawl back into the deepest
hole you can find. Only this time, lie down and die.
(Figure 3 backs away slowly, but he is not neutral. He is beaten and he knows it. He has
little influence over this man now, if any at all. He turns stage right, and exits)
PLAYWRIGHT: When the penis goes up, the mind goes down.
(Gets up and exits in the same direction as figure 3. Lights out.)
Scene VII
(Lights up. Playwright reenters from right wing wiping his hands on a paper towel. He
crumples it up, chucks it off stage, zips up his fly, and returns to his desk)
PLAYWRIGHT: Now then, which one will come out next? Figure 4, you have the floor.
(Enter figure 4 from stage left. Playwright takes a long look at her.)
PLAYWRIGHT: Emily (Aside). You come to me as my sister Figure 4. You carry
yourself just as she did, as a spoiled brat. Dad was always buttering her up. He never
once said no to her. But he wasn’t as lenient on me. He said it was because I had to be the
man of the house, and that I wouldn’t always be able to get what I wanted. He told me
that girls were more delicate. If anyone said no to them, they would throw a fit. That’s
what he told me and that’s what I believed. But that was just his sexist side talking. When
she turned sixteen...well...I don’t have to go into the details.

20. 20
FIGURE 4: Daddy I want some ice cream.
PLAYWRIGHT: “Whatever you say pumpkin.” Sometimes he would call her “princess”,
or “sugar”, or “sweetheart”, or “gummy bear”. That one he picked out himself. And this
would go on for over ten years. He gave her everything. I just sat there and watched.
FIGURE 4: (In a slightly older tone.) Daddy I want a puppy. Daddy I need a tree house.
Daddy, you didn’t buy me enough candy. Daddy I want a new doll. Daddy I want to go to
the movies. Daddy...Daddy...Daddy...Daddy...Daddy...
PLAYWRIGHT: ALRIGHT! And he never said no. He just kept giving and giving and
giving. But one of two things he never let her do was take the Sex Ed portion of her
Health class in high school. He kept her out of that subject. This was only because he was
looking out for his own gender. But she didn’t care. She just got older.
FIGURE 4: Dad, I need the car. Don’t argue with me Dad. There’s a party tonight and I
have to be there. All the cute boys in school are going. No, I won’t sleep with any of
them. Why would you think that? Look Dad, I just want to have a good time. That’s all
we do. We’re not going to have sex, we won’t do drugs, and we won’t drive drunk. We
just want to hang out with people our own age. Can’t you see why this is important to
me?
PLAYWRIGHT: But the second thing Dad never let her do was date. In that department,
he kept her on a very tight leash. Sooner or later, she was going to snap. He had given her
everything else that she had ever wanted, except freedom. And when she became a
teenager, she expected it. But she didn’t get it.
FIGURE 4: Dad, if you don’t let me go out tonight, I swear I will leave you forever. I’ll
take a freight train up north and I’ll never turn back. I hear there are some really cool

21. 21
hobos up there who know how to party. They have all the drugs, sex, and booze a girl
could dream of. Is that what you want Dad? For your only daughter to be a prostitute for
some bum on a train? Because I’ll do it. I’m not just making idle threats here. I will leave
you, and I will never look back. Don’t try to change the subject. Put down the fucking
beer and listen to me. Are you deaf? How much did you drink? You pig! You used to
always give me whatever I wanted when I was little. What are you trying to do now?
Make me your slave girl? I got everything I wanted when I was young. I want one thing
now and that’s OUT! So why won’t you let me go? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why!?
PLAYWRIGHT: If I had an ounce of expectation for what was coming next, I would
have run away myself. But I was just sitting in a corner reading a book when my dad
grabbed my sister by the collar and shoved her up front against the dinner table. And then
he turned to me and said, “Now watch closely son! This is all that women are good for!
The man who gets the most of this will rule the world!” I was eight. I didn’t know what
“this” meant. But I do know that after that night, Emily never asked dad for anything
again. A month later, she put up the red flag to one of the neighbors. Dad went to jail, and
we were put into a foster home, after one whole month of “this”.
FIGURE 4: Who are you? What are you? You aren’t my father. You’re an animal! What
was I to you? Just some premature sex toy that you could build up over the years until it
was ready for fucking? Well you can take back every scoop of ice cream, every toy,
every present, and every cent that you ever spent on me. Oh wait, you can’t. You’re
going to prison.
PLAYWRIGHT: That was the last time Emily ever spoke to our father. She abandoned
him for the rest of his life, as did I. Afterwards, she learned how to care for herself, and

22. 22
how to make her own decisions. It comes with growing up. She asked for only as much
as she needed in life: a family she could love and trust and a roof over her head. She’s
living with her husband and two kids in Seattle. Me? I’m here, lost in my own head, and
heading to someplace I know I’m going to regret.
(Figure 4 backs away slowly and exits stage left.)
Scene VIII
(Playwright is beginning to dose off. The last recollection has distorted his ability to
focus on his work)
PLAYWRIGHT: Figure 5, come on out.
(Enter figure 5 from stage right, slumping drowsily and lazily, as though he does not
want to be here.)
FIGURE 5: Why did you have to call me up now? I was having such a nice nap.
PLAYWRIGHT: I once had an uncle like you, or as far as an uncle could go in my
family. He wasn’t actually related by blood. He was more of a business acquaintance of
our father’s. We didn’t have too many real relatives that we knew of, so our dad would
build connections and welcome random strangers into our household every so often. He
went by the name of Perry Plummer, which of course wasn’t his real title. Never trust a
person that you meet on the street with a very weird name.
FIGURE 5: You know what? We just started, and already I’m bored out of my mind. I
won’t lie to you. I have the attention span of a peanut, and the motivation of a broken
engine. Hard work is just not my style. That’s why I wasn’t looking forward to digging
through all of this character building crap. I had to motivate myself to walk out onto this

23. 23
stage, and that was work enough. Can I just get something to eat? Is there a fridge
anywhere that I can raid?
PLAYWRIGHT: You sound just like him. Perry always wanted to take the easy way out.
He was all about the “easy money-easy living” philosophy. So he comes up with this plan
to open a stripper bar downtown and profit off of other people’s “basic human natures”.
My dad meets with him over drinks, they discuss plans, and he suddenly becomes a part
of the family. Dad let him into our house, and he sucked through our fridge like a leech.
FIGURE 5: Sounds like a smart man. Why work for your food when you can get it from
someone else? Why write a play when you can get someone to do it for you? Aren’t there
any people out there who actually want to be doing this? Come on. You can’t expect me
to believe that you want to spend God knows how long sitting in front of a type writer
creating a stupid story that no one cares about. Get someone to do it for you. Lots of
random people you can go and meet in a bar. Go out for a night. Find somebody you can
use, and take their credit. It’s a plain and simple relationship that dates back to ancient
Greece. Some of the best writers in the world are master plagiarists.
PLAYWRIGHT: Like who?
FIGURE 5: I have no idea. I thought you’d know.
PLAYWRIGHT: (Continues with story) It only took a few weeks for dad to realize that
Perry never actually planned to do anything with his life at all. It turned out that he had
gotten in touch with five other consultants and had them all invest in his imaginary
stripper bar. He pocketed several hundred thousand dollars from his investors and a
month’s supply of food from each of them. He was welcome into six different families
and he conned them all.

24. 24
FIGURE 5: Well if it ain’t broke, keep on going. Lounge around and let the idiots take
the hit is what I always say. If you’re not smart enough to keep your money safe,
someone smarter will come along and take it from you. Just because I’m lazy doesn’t
mean I’m an idiot. I can come up with some really smart ways to avoid doing work. Now
some people will say that I’m working to not do work at all. Well that’s just fine. I don’t
feel a strain in the slightest when I’m working to avoid other work. Because I know that I
have dedicated my head to the avoidance of productivity and manual labor. So just let
your drowsiness take you away. You’re writing a lost cause, a play that no one will see
and no one will care about. And when you finish the script and feel good about yourself,
it will all come crashing back down when your readers tell you, “It sucked”.
PLAYWRIGHT: (Rises from his desk and crosses to Figure 5 down center.) I don’t give
a damn about your opinions. I care about one thing: getting this play written and telling
my story. Yes I feel drowsy. Yes I want to sleep. Yes I am hungry. These are all normal
everyday bumps that the entire human race has to deal with. But we do. We take our
problems and shit them out for the sake of the product, of the creation, of the artwork, of
the homework, of the housework, of the manual work, of the whateverkindofwork. You
have nothing to be proud of unless you’ve earned it through REAL WORK. And any
sensible person would feel ashamed of themself if they took a taxi down easy street to
profit off of another person’s misery. Perry took that road. And it dumped him in court,
which dumped him into prison for 25 years. Apparently he’d been conning people for
over twenty-one years. He was wanted in nine different states across the nation. Sooner
or later, his ass had to be fried.

25. 25
FIGURE 5: But he’s not the only one of his kind. Perry was a bad example. There are
plenty of ways to take the easy street down to the gold mines. You just have to know how
to work the system in your favor. But you won’t get anywhere by writing a play. So for
the last time, drop the typewriter and get out of the house.
PLAYWRIGHT: No! I deserve to have my story told. And there are lots of people in this
play that deserve to have theirs told as well. I’m not just writing this play for myself. This
play is a testament to every character in its pages and every live event in my life that’s
worth telling.
(Crosses back to desk and sits)
I’m not leaving this room. And nothing you say or do will move me otherwise.
(Figure 5 slowly backs away)
FIGURE 5: You’re going to eat those words in a few months you know. (Now in an
Uncle Perry expression) I got big plans for us kiddo! Big plans! You wait and see! Just
you wait! (Exits stage right)
PLAYWRIGHT: You ate those words in court Uncle Perry. I’m more than happy to go
against everything you stood for and actually create something that’s worth
remembering... (To audience) Be wary of anyone who approaches you with strong
ambitions.
Scene IX
PLAYWRIGHT: And most important of all, never trust an authority figure to play by the
rules, especially if that figure is your High School Principal. Figure 6, you’re up
(Enter Figure 6 from stage left)

26. 26
PLAYWRIGHT: When it comes to power, you need an education and money. Most
people always seem to have trouble with the second one. Principal Meyers could never
get enough of it. And as a high school principal, he felt like he deserved a little extra. It
took a few months for the school board to find out that he was pocketing money from the
budget for his own personal investments. It wasn’t anything to do with family problems.
He just wanted more. For that he lost his job and our respect.
FIGURE 6: That was a highly illogical course of action to take. A man of such skills and
talent is worth keeping nearby. After all, one never knows when they’re going to need a
moneygrubber or a pickpocket.
PLAYWRIGHT: He bled tens of thousands of dollars from the school budget...
FIGURE 6: Money is everywhere. It’s always up for grabs if you know what you’re
doing. I think that if everyone simply erased their moral compasses and took what they
needed, we’d all be millionaires. The money talks. The money bites. It turns us into
something entirely different from our former selves. And it can be beautiful, or it can be
ugly depending where you end up. I will admit that your principal was not the smartest
man on the planet for getting himself fired, but he was resourceful. A dystopian world
where everyone can steal and move on...now that’s what we need.
PLAYWRIGHT: Nothing good ever comes out from stealing on your part. He got burned
and so would you. In fact you’re going to get burned over and over again in the text when
I morph you into Meyers.
FIGURE 6: I would be honored to portray such a gentleman. I said it before and I will
say it again: It’s a rich man’s world. But no one can ever get filthy stinking rich through
honesty and hard work. That is...you need to break some rules if you want to be on top in

27. 27
this economy. People who have money have authority. Authority is good. It gives you a
sense of who’s on top.
PLAYWRIGHT: It also drains you of your humanity and turns you into a slave of the
system. The suit takes possession of you and eradicates your moral compass. Before long,
you can’t tell forwards from backwards or side to side. It happened to Meyers, but it
won’t happen to me. If I make a fortune off this play, it won’t change who I am or what I
did.
FIGURE 6: You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? But believe me when I tell you that a
a couple million dollars would fix you up real good. You’d embrace the perks of power
and integrate with the upper class as a major player on the americain game board. But
there’s no chance of that happening. You could never make enough doe from a play like
this. If you want to taste the rich life, drop the play and start something real, like a
business company. Give yourself over to the suit and sell away your creativity. It will
only distract you from what really matters.
PLAYWRIGHT: What matters is that I write my story. Nothing more.
FIGURE 6: You don’t need to hide your greed. It exists in you, in me, and in everyone
else with a brain and opposable thumbs. If you are so desperate to write for money, then a
man at your level would need to take drastic measures; perhaps some illegal ones. Figure
5 was on to something with the whole plagiarism idea.
PLAYWRIGHT: I don’t steal from other people. I’m nothing like Uncle Perry or
Principal Meyers.
FIGURE 6: Oh of course. You’re nothing like Uncle Perry. The difference between him
and Principal Meyers was that Uncle Perry didn’t deserve the money he tried to steal. But

28. 28
your Principal probably broke his back to run your school. Doesn’t it seem fair that the
ones who work harder should get the bigger paycheck? Don’t you think that you deserve
more in your life than just a stupid play. There are a hundred better ways to make money
than sitting in front of a typewriter. You just have to be confident and resourceful, like
Principal Meyers.
PLAYWRIGHT: No! That would be your job.
(Types a series of keys. Figure 6 begins to straighten his poster. He takes an authoritative
stance on stage. His face straightens to one of a stricter nature.)
PLAYWRIGHT: I will be caught dead before I submit myself to monetary desires and
bureaucratic rule. The system will never take me. I will not allow a higher power to turn
me over. And I will never stoop so low as to rob another person of their happiness and
prosperity.
(Figure 6 now completely lost in the character. Backs away slowly and exits stage left.)
PLAYWRIGHT: It is a rich man’s world, but the best rich men are still the ones with a
moral compass by their side.
Scene X
(Stage goes dark. Spotlight stage right.)
FIGURE 7: UUUUUGGGGGHHHH!
(Enter Figure 7 from stage right, obviously very aggravated. He is followed by Figure 8)
FIGURE 7: Get me something to punch! I need something to punch!
(Whirls around for a moment before finally giving in and slamming his fists on the floor
like an angry gorilla)

29. 29
FIGURE 7: UUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH Ouch!...Bit my tongue. Hey is there blood?
(Shows tongue to Figure 8) I don’t taste anything. Do you see blood?
FIGURE 8: We’re conscious constructs. We can’t bleed. Remember?
FIGURE 7: Not yet anyway. Those incompetent idiots. How long can it take to enslave
one miserable playwright?
FIGURE 8: I told you, you’re not gonna get to him. He’s done this seven times now.
Don’t you think he’s had enough practice at controlling his thoughts and feelings for the
eighth time?
FIGURE 7: He is an unbalanced mess of turmoil. One of us should have taken him by
now.
FIGURE 8: Yet the fact that he’s still writing must mean that he’s not as screwed up as
you would have hoped.
FIGURE 7: I’m going to enjoy proving you wrong, Figure 8.
FIGURE 8: I’m going to enjoy watching you fail, Figure 7.
FIGURE 7: No one can overcome my influence. They can only bury it. Somewhere
inside of his twisted past is a fiber that I can pull at. And as soon as I find it, he won’t last
two minutes.
(Exit Figure 7 stage right. Figure 8 remains.)
FIGURE 8: They don’t get it. None of them do. The work in creating this play pays off
when we have the opportunity to bring happiness into the lives of anyone who
experiences it. But I guess kindness isn’t there language. They’ll only listen to
selfishness. Me...Well that’s not how I work. I prefer the world of logic and reasoning, of
kindness and remedy. I want him to succeed, and I will break my back to keep Figure 7

30. 30
out of his thoughts. When all else fails, trust your gut and your instincts. They will
always lead you in the right direction. A moral compass can be twisted and turned in so
many directions by so many different forces. But I am always here to help you choose the
right one. It is not always the one that will benefit you the most. But more often than not,
it will benefit everyone around you. That is why I want him to finish this play, for the
sake of the people that should and deserve to have their story told, and for the sake of
everyone who will experience us. It looks like he’s about to try and make a character out
of Figure 7. And it looks like Figure 7 is about to make his move. He will not succeed. If
anyone gets a hold of this man, it will be me...Forgive me if even for a moment I sounded
like Figure 1.
Scene XI
(Spotlight out. Exit Figure 8 stage left. Lights up. Enter Figure 7 stage right)
PLAYWRIGHT: Wow, I didn’t even have to call you in.
FIGURE 7: It’s too bad I have to call you out.
PLAYWRIGHT: You think you can get to me? All the other six have failed. It’s just you
and Figure 8.
FIGURE 7: You don’t stand a chance against me.
PLAYWRIGHT: Well then give it your best shot.
FIGURE 7: Hit me!
PLAYWRIGHT: The fact that I want to smash your fucking face in every time that I talk
to you only makes you perfect for the role of my old high school English teacher, Mr.
Kramer. I knew him for 2 years and every time I spoke to him, he belittled and degraded
me, almost as though he had a personal vendetta against me.

31. 31
FIGURE 7: He was right to do so. I can tell that after only a few hours inside your head,
you aren’t worth the scrap of paper you type on.
PLAYWRIGHT: I had thoughts...fantasies about what I could do to him. Every other
night I would picture myself slitting his throat, or shooting him in the head. And that was
on a good day. On bad days I imagined delimbing him.
FIGURE 7: And he would deserve such treatment. Just keep telling yourself that people
like him don’t deserve to breath. Hold onto your grudges. Let them soak in, like water to
a sponge.
PLAYWRIGHT: It was as if I was his favorite student to chastise, to humiliate, to offend.
He took pride in my misery. And it wasn’t for the sake of my education either. It was
only for his own amusement.
FIGURE 7: And you allowed him to torment you. That makes you weak. It labels you an
easy target. Aggression, rage, violence, fury, and hatred; these are our allies in life. You
can’t ignore your bestial nature to loath and attack. Fantasies in your head will only get
you so far in life. There comes a time when you need to take action, and bring these
thoughts of yours into reality. Let these people know how much you despise them. Send
the pain you feel hurtling towards them a hundred-fold.
PLAYWRIGHT: (Feeling the effect, but stops.)
Nice try. But not good enough.
FIGURE 7: I’m not done yet.
(Playwright continues to type)
PLAYWRIGHT: I remember at the end of my senior year when he nearly succeeded in
failing me. I had to file a complaint, and challenge his grading policies in front of the

32. 32
school board. They ruled that he was guilty of unfair academic evaluation. I got out of
high school, and he was put on probation for two years before they finally fired him. But
I will never forget his last lecture. He told me...
FIGURE 7: Elliot...you will never amount to anything in your miserable little life. You
think you’ve gotten passed the hard part...high school. Well I’m not the least bit sorry to
tell you that it gets harder after this. Much harder! You are a lonesome little runt who has
no place in this world. Why would anyone of any value want to work with someone like
you? I wanted to do you a favor by failing you. You would be better off in the world
without a high school diploma. All of the available work for high school graduates is too
challenging for someone of your caliber. At best, you have a future flipping burgers. Let
me elaborate on that. You’ll spend the rest of your life alone in an apartment with barely
enough to live on. If you’re lucky, your rent won’t be too high. You’ll survive, but only
just...Oh you miserable little speck. I’ve said if before and I’ll say it again. It’s spineless
urchins like you that make me want to quit my job. But I stay. Why? Because there are so
many other capable boys and girls with at least twice the value that you will ever have.
And so to you my former student, I say stay low. You belong in the sewers.
(Enter Figure 8 up stage left. She rests two of her fingers on her temple and maintains
visual focus on the Playwright.)
PLAYWRIGHT: I spent years in college trying to figure out the specific psychology of
his attitude towards me. At best, all I can say is that I reminded him of somebody else he
hated, and whatever he felt towards that person he passed on to me. Anger and hatred are
like a virus strand. They can move from one person to the next if you don’t know how to

33. 33
control it. And that is easier said than done. So you see Figure 7, I know what it does to a
person. And I can tell you here and now that you won’t get to me.
FIGURE 7: Tell me Elliot, do you really think you’re in control here? Do you really think
you’ve learned to conquer your rage and hatred? Do you really think you can break the
cycle?!
PLAYWRIGHT: Grudges come and grudges go. We can’t hang on to them forever.
They’ll tear us apart.
FIGURE 7: That’s where you’re wrong kid. Grudges give us cause. They give us reason.
Anyone who can hold a grudge has the cause and the motivation to take what they want.
You have nothing! You told me you wanted to smash this man’s face in. All right, so you
cost him his job. Big whoop! He’s still alive, and I guarantee you that somewhere out
there, he’s making somebody else’s life miserable. The world would be a better place
without him.
PLAYWRIGHT: He was a man of great inner turmoil. He couldn’t control his thoughts
and emotions. Kramer was sick. I don’t hate him anymore. I only pity him.
(Slowly but clearly starts to lose control. Finger 8 strains to maintain a coolness of
mind.)
FIGURE 7: What about everyone else. You’re twisted father, your high school principal,
your so-called uncle Perry, Jeremy’s jealously over-protective girl friend...and why stop
there? You had a miserable sucky little childhood. And the worst part of it all is, in the
long run, you have no one to blame for it anymore, except yourself.
PLAYWRIGHT: Shut up.

34. 34
FIGURE 7: No Elliot, I won’t shut up. You’re finally hearing the truth from yourself for
once. And it hurts, doesn’t it. The truth always does. For as long as you can remember,
you had no control over your own life. You were trampled on, beaten, and thrown into
the mud, and you only had so many people there to help you.
PLAYWRIGHT: Well at least I had people! There are others out there who have it 10
times worse than me!
FIGURE 7: Well then where are they Elliot? Where are they? Because from what I can
see, you are the most miserable pile of dog shit that ever lived.
(Figure 8 pushed back)
PLAYWRIGHT: Shut up.
FIGURE 7: You were never loved Elliot. Not by your father, mother, or sister. Anyone
who showed you respect only did so because they pitied you.
PLAYWRIGHT: Shut up!
FIGURE 7: Face the facts Elliot. You were a burden to everyone at best. And the only
person left for you to blame...is yourself.
PLAYWRIGHT: I said SHUT UP!!!! (Rises from the desk and lunges at Figure 7
headfirst. Figure 7 takes one step up stage, and the Playwright falls down center. Figure
7 circles him like a shark in the water. Grabs playwright by the hair and sits him up
straight. Places one hand on his scalp, and the other below the chin. Enter figure 1
through 6 in a row upstage, odd numbers on the right and even numbers on the left. They
instantly upstage figure 8. The row moves downstage like an ever-looming wall before
stopping just four feet from the playwright and Figure 7.)

35. 35
FIGURE 7: No matter where you go, and no matter what you do, we will be
there...waiting for you, in the darkest recesses of your mind. When you wish to hurt, we
will be there. When you feel pain, we will be there. When you are in your lowest and
most degraded state possible, and when you are groveling on the floor wishing you were
dead, we will be there, one next to the other. Now put down that wretched typewriter, and
take us out for a walk.
(Releases Playwright and joins the wall of Figures. They back away upstage slowly
before being penetrated by Figure 8. She slowly approaches the fallen Playwright from
behind before placing a hand on his shoulder and kneeling beside him at an equal level.)
Scene XII
FIGURE 8: Look at me Elliot, and tell me what you see.
(Playwright faces the floor)
FIGURE 8: Look at me Elliot. Look at me! Look...at...me!!!
(Moves his head to her line of sight. Locks his forehead with hers.)
FIGURE 8: You are not beaten. You still have so much to do, and so much to say. You
remember why you started this whole play. For over a decade you have tried to write it,
and for over a decade you have failed. The turmoil you are feeling inside isn’t going
away until you put your words on paper. You are going to live with these scars for the
rest of your life until this play is finished. Does that sound like a life you’d want to live?
Does it? Answer me Elliot!
PLAYWRIGHT: No. I should have just killed myself years ago.

36. 36
FIGURE 8: You are not dead yet Elliot. Not up here (Points to head.) and not in there
(Points to chest). There will always be obstacles in the way Elliot. But if you let them cut
you off, even for a moment, then you’ve already failed.
(Elliot remains silent. His head remains low)
FIGURE 8: So what’s it going to be Elliot?
(Playwright looks up at Figure 8.)
PLAYWRIGHT: You remind me of her, just a little bit.
FIGURE 8: That’s right. We never started working on my character yet. Who is she?
PLAYWRIGHT: She was the one who always put me in a good mood. Whenever I was
in the worst state possible, I would think of her. Suddenly it was as though all my
problems would just disappear. She had that magical gift you can’t find in anyone else.
FIGURE 8: Was she beautiful?
PLAYWRIGHT: So beautiful. I don’t even know how to describe it. It was as if she came
out of a fairytale, like she belonged in a storybook.
FIGURE 8: What was her name?
PLAYWRIGHT: Lyla. Lyla Belleview
FIGURE 8: You miss her, don’t you?
PLAYWRIGHT: I haven’t seen her in ten years. I would give anything to find her again.
If I only had her as an older sister, it would have been enough.
FIGURE 8: Maybe it’s time you put her into words along with everyone else. (Hands
Playwright the typewriter.)
PLAYWRIGHT: I think it’s time I put a lot of things into words. (Playwright rises and
crosses to the very edge of the stage.) I think this whole world is just one long string of

37. 37
words written and rewritten over and over again in a different order. There is no such
thing as anything new or old. Everything that we feel was felt by somebody somewhere
else at some other point in time. But we can never stop to realize that life is kind and
cruel to everyone. We don’t stop to count our blessings. We only wallow in the darkness
for the things we don’t have. But the one thing that everyone does have is the freedom to
express. If we all stopped to take a breath, and put our thoughts and emotions into word,
art, or song, the world could be a much better place.
(Pause)
FIGURE 8: All right, I think we’ve had enough monologues for one day.
PLAYWRIGHT: Thank you Figure 8.
(Figure 7 nonchalantly gives Figure 8 the finger in the background)
PLAYWRIGHT: (Facing downstage) And thanks to all of you. I never would have been
able to start this play without your meddling. I know you were trying to stop me, and I
know that you only wanted to be acknowledged as more than just creations of thought. I
can understand where all of you are coming from. That is why I forgive you.
(Figures move downstage. All of this dialogue occurs while Figure 8 and Playwright are
facing out.)
FIGURE 3: You can’t just expect us to walk away like nothing ever happened.
FIGURE 2: We’re not your own personal slaves that you can call on whenever youfeel
like it.
FIGURE 1: Yeah! Thoughts have feelings too you know. Wear is our cut of the pie.
FIGURE 4: Mmmm. Don’t talk about food Figure 1. You’re distracting me from my bad
attitude.

38. 38
FIGURE 7: You shouldn’t be distracted. He is our enemy and captor. The only thing we
should be focused on is taking him over. We still have a shot guys.
FIGURE 6: Hey, who made you the boss anyway?
FIGURE 5: That’s a good question. Why can’t we have a real democratic system in the
group?
FIGURE 8: (Aside) Because democracy is only as good as the group that uses it.
FIGURE 3: If you were as good a leader as your bad attitude, we would be running this
guy by now.
FIGURE 1: I think I should be leader. I’m much more qualified than any of you.
FIGURES 2-7: Shut up Figure 1!!!
FIGURE 4: Every decision that you’ve made has gotten us nowhere.
FIGURE 5: We’re right back where we started: trapped in an empty space with nothing
to do but squabble and bitch.
FIGURE 7: Hey Figure 5, tell me this: Why does the laziest lump of the bunch have the
nerve to judge me when he hasn’t done shit?
FIGURE 5: Well I’m not so lazy that I can’t knock out all of your teeth in five swings.
FIGURE 7: Take your best shot. I dare you.
FIGURE 5: Oh I’m taking it.
FIGURE 7: Good. Because by the time you get to five, you are DEAD!
(All seven figures break into an incoherent argument of adlibbing. Throughout the
argument, there is a distinct sense of acknowledgement, as though none of them exist in
their own little world or dimension anymore. It is almost as if they are becoming real
humans with real concerns. It is only Figure 1 who stands alone. His dialogue goes

39. 39
something along the lines of “Bicker. Bicker. Bicker bicker bicker. Wow I am such a
good bickerer. I should join a debate team.” Throughout all of this, the Playwright and
Figure 8 become aggravated. The Playwright locks both hands together, automatically
closing the curtains on the other seven. They do not notice until it is too late.)
FIGURES 1-7: Hey wait a minute. You can’t just...(The curtain closes, locking them out.
This should symbolize the door to a safe house where the distractions can end and the
writing can truly begin. It is a room of one’s own. Figure 8 is the only one left. She stands
down center.)
PLAYWRIGHT: Don’t worry guys. I will make it up to all of you. I swear it. You’ll see
just how exciting your lives will be after I write you in. (Returns to his desk) Now, where
to begin? Act I, Scene I. A beautiful girl stands center stage. This is Lyla. She is
flawlessly perfect in every visible way. Her hair falls in luscious strands of dazzling gold.
Her face could bring even the most distant broken soul back to life. Enter the boy who
observes from afar, the dreamer who’s dreams never die out, the one with all the naiveté,
the one with all the bashfulness, and the one whose misery is quelled by her very
presence. (Playwright rises and walks down center) This is Elliot. (Stands stage right of
Figure 8. The two of them face each other for a long beat before the lights dim out.)
Scene XIII
(The curtain opens. All eight figures are scattered on stage. There are a series of four
wooden boxes for seating purposes. The lighting has changed to a brighter and more
vibrant tone, one that can convey the success of an idea. This is the neutral interior of the
play. It is kind of like the characters’ quarters, where the action of the story never takes
place.)

40. 40
FIGURE 2: Are you happy now Figure 8? We’re going to be stuck in this play for the rest
of our lives. How do you feel about that?
FIGURE 8: Don’t over-exaggerate so much. And since we’re finally written in, I think
we should start calling each other by our real character names. (Points to each Figure
from 1 to 7 and references them by name.) Jeremy, Jill, Marty, Emily, Perry, Meyers, and
Kramer. And I’m Lyla.
FIGURE 7: You think that taking away our numbers is going to make a difference?
FIGURE 5: We’re still being enslaved behind these pages you know.
FIGURE 3: Forced to live the same dreary existence over and over again.
FIGURE 4: This is going to get old real fast.
FIGURE 6: I don’t know guys. Being away from money all this time has made me realize
just how much one can enjoy the simpler things in life. I have to say that I’m actually
looking forward to this.
FIGURE 7: Come to think of it, I haven’t had a major outburst in months.
FIGURE 4: I haven’t eaten any junk food or hoarded a single thing all season.
FIGURE 3: I can’t even remember the last time I talked about sex.
FIGURE 5: You’re all going to find this scary, but I actually want to do work right now.
(All eight figures pause for a moment before bursting out in hysterical laughter.)
FIGURE 2: I’ve learned to appreciate the things that I already have.
FIGURE 1: And I’ve started to feel a strange sensation of humility come over me. I really
don’t feel like bragging anymore.
FIGURE 8: Hey guys, look up there! (Points out the outside world through the cover.)
FIGURE 1: What’s going on?

41. 41
FIGURE 8: Elliot just sold the play.
OTHERS: (Adlib) No way! (Or something thereof. They all clump together down center.)
FIGURE 8: The meeting just ended. They said it could be staged live on Broadway.
FIGURE 5: It might run for six years at least?
FIGURE 6: Potentially the next great American playwright?
FIGURE 3: First performance set for a regional theater company?
FIGURE 2: As a start?
FIGURE 1: One of the most inspirational plays that we’ve read in our lives?
FIGURE 4: It’ll be even better when we see it onstage?
FIGURE 7: Maybe we won’t have it so bad after all.
(Figures exchange glances and smiles. Lights up on Playwright, sitting at his desk stage
right and typing a few extra notes to himself. He has now switched to a laptop. Closes the
lid.)
PLAYWRIGHT: I said I’d make it up to you all, didn’t I?
(A large gleeful grin crosses his face, signifying his achievement. Lights out.)
FIN!