Stuff Happens

Stuff Happens

A one-act play by Scott Moore

Act I

(Scene: an empty stage, curtain closed. TOM enters.)

TOM: Hello, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Bill. Welcome to our play, laboriously titled "Stuff Happens." I certainly hope you enjoy it. I'd like to take this opportunity to tell you about some of the upcoming plays in our season. Next month, William Shakespeare's unheralded classic "Who The Hell Is Billy Bob?" will be featured on our stage. After that, we'll have Samuel Beckett's favorite, "I'm So Excited Pause And I Think I Like It." And finally, you'll get to see our version of Noel Coward's "Days Of Our Private Lives." In the meantime, I'd like to inform you that there will be an inter-mission after Act One, and refreshments will be served in the lobby. Now that I've said all that I'm supposed to say--we actors call it a curtain speech--I'll leave, so that you can see the real actors play the play you paid to see played and portray the players of this plethoric production. The play-wright has promised a pleasurable experience that will placate all playgoers while performed. If the presentation is not pleasing, the plenipotentiary of our production staff pledges to present a plentiful pittance to the plebeian who was piqued by our pitiful performance. Thank you. (starts to leave, then stops) Oh, by the way, a murder occurs in this production. Someone puts a gun right up to a guy's head and blows him away. I wanted you to know that so that you aren't deceived by any of the happiness you might see here today. Well, good evening, and enjoy.

(He exits. Shortly after he is gone, we hear a loud scream from offstage. Seconds later TOM reappears.)

TOM: Don't worry about that scream. There was an accident in the makeup room. Our leading player poked a brown eyeliner pencil right through his head by way of his eye. (pause) Oh dear. That means he won't be able to go on. Oh, well. We'll just do it without him. It really wasn't an important part. Just the leading role, you know. You'd all better cross the name "Jack Ripper" out of your programs. Anyway, good evening, and enjoy. (exits)

(The lights go down, then up, then back down into a blackout. A spotlight pierces the darkness, but no one's in it. The curtain opens. There is no set. There are also no actors. We hear shouting offstage.)

JACK: (offstage) I don't care about my blinking eye! The show must go on!

TOM: (offstage) At least take the pencil out of your head!

(Grand, majestic theme music up.)

KATIE: (enters, jumps into spotlight) Excuse me, please! The management regrets to inform you that Jack Ripper is unable to attend this evening's performance. He poked a pencil through his head by way of his eye. His understudy, Bill, is offstage helping him now. In his stead, I would like to present the one and only, America's number one family man, Tom Reynolds! (exits)

TOM: (entering) Hello, friends and neighbors, I'm Tom Reynolds. I'm here to talk to you about life. Now of course most of you already know about life, having lived a few of your own I'm sure. No, actually, I'm here to tell you about one life in particular. Mine. They call me America's number one family man. I don't know why they call me that. After all, I chopped up my first wife with a set of Ginsu knives, and I roasted my second wife on a spit for Thanksgiving dinner. Or was that my daughter? No, I'm sure it wasn't one of the kids. I buried them alive just last winter. Which really makes me wonder why I'm America's number one family man. Now in Britain, I deserve to be the number one family man. I haven't killed anyone over there. (pause) I haven't really done any of these things. But my character, Tom Reynolds, has. That's an important distinction to remember about theatre. Actors and characters are two different things. You see, whereas my character, Tom the family man, has killed his two wives and all of his children, I've only killed my mother and my two dogs. Anyway, as I was saying, it is important to distinguish between actors and characters. If the dichotomy is not clear, the consequences can indeed be dire. For instance, people who do not remember this, upon bumping into Marlon Brando on the street, will not say, "Hey, you're Marlon Brando," but will instead say, "Hey, you're Superman's dad!" (KATIE enters) Oh, hello. Who are you?

KATIE: My name is Katie. I'm your third wife.

TOM: Oh really? Glad to meet you.

KATIE: Glad to meet you also. I think you owe me an apology.

TOM: Why's that?

KATIE: You killed my sister last night.

TOM: Oh. Sorry. Well, I'd better be going then. It's your turn to give a soliloquy.

KATIE: Thank you very much. (TOM exits) Hello, all you lovely audience members. My name is Katie. Which is short for Katherine. Which is short for Hepburn. Actually, that's just my character name. My real name is Meg. Which is short for Margaret. Which is short for Thatcher. But that's beside the point. I'm going to continue talking about what Bill was just talking about, which is the difference between actors and actresses and the characters they portray. For instance, in this play, I as Katie am married to Tom, America's number one family man. As a character, I accept that because that is a decision the author has made for me, and it is the author who is fundamentally in charge of the story's action. As an actress, I accept the character and the situation that she is in, while still remaining somewhat detached from her. This is seen by the fact that in real life I would never marry Tom, because he is a disgusting individual who doesn't wash his hands after using public bathrooms.

TOM: (reentering) I heard what you just said.

KATIE: And?

TOM: I think you're wrong. I think I do wash my hands after I use my own bathroom that I neglect to wash them.

KATIE: Oh. If you say so.

TOM: Indeed I do. (exits)

KATIE: Now, where was I? Oh yes. Actresses and characters. Two totally different things. One of these days, I'd like to write a play of my own, with characters of my own invention. It would probably be a surrealist play, so that I could include all sorts of odd things, like schizophrenic psychiatrists and Bob Dylan impressionists and people who poke pencils through their heads by way of their eyes.

(Shouting offstage)

JACK: (offstage) Dammit, let me out there! I've got a show to do!

TOM: (offstage) Jack, please! You're not wearing any pants!

KATIE: (to audience) You can expect that sort of thing. After all, this is a surrealist play.

TOM: (entering, a bit breathless) Hello, my darling wife.

KATIE: Hello, my darling husband. Why have you come?

TOM: In keeping with the fine tradition of family men all across America, and in keeping with the surrealist spirit of this one-act wonder, I'm afraid I must inform you that I'm here to kill you.

KATIE: Oh, dear, must you?

TOM: I'm sorry, Katie, but I'm afraid your death is a necessity. (to audience) I really love this woman.

KATIE: Well, certainly you won't mind if I pack my things first, will you?

TOM: No, of course not. Only the best for my wife, that's what I always say.

KATIE: Thank you, darling husband. I'll just grab my Moody Blues collection and be right back. (exits)

TOM: I wonder how I'll kill this one. I was contemplating feeding her to our weedeater. I wonder if it could handle that much produce. Anyway, as I was saying, the differences between actors and characters lie mostly in the attitude of the individual. The attitude of the character depends solely on the kind of person he is and the situation he is placed in by that evil being known as the author. On the other hand, the attitude of the actor is one of stateliness and subtle superiority over the audience. This is due to the fact that the actor knows what's going to happen and the audience doesn't. Some actors are able to mask their sense of superiority. Others are not, and henceforth the acting community begins to refer to them as cocky, conceited little bastards. (pause) You know, I could try incineration. That would be mildly interesting. (exits)

(MIKE enters. He is wearing a business suit, very high-class, and is carrying an electric guitar. MELODY enters from opposite. She is dressed like one of the Bangles, with lace and a mini-skirt and the whole bit. She carries a briefcase.)

MIKE: Oh, hello, who are you?

MELODY: Melody. At least, that's the name I was given at birth.

MIKE: I see.

MELODY: I changed my name later on in life. I changed it to Bertha.

MIKE: I see.

MELODY: Then I tried out for this play, and was cast in the role of Melody.

MIKE: Oh.

MELODY: I see.

MIKE: My, you're looking dapper today.

MELODY: Why, thank you. I'm dressed up today.

MIKE: Oh really? What's the occasion?

MELODY: I'm going to see my psychiatrist. He's a schizophrenic you know.

MIKE: Really? What a coincidence. My father is a schizophrenic psychiatrist. His name is Tom.

MELODY: Well, perhaps you'd like to accompany me to his office.

MIKE: Oh, I don't think so. My father wouldn't approve of me dating someone like you. He'd probably cut me up with a chainsaw.

MELODY: Oh? Is he psychotic as well as schizophrenic?

MIKE: I'm not sure. Just remember to pay your bills on time.

MELODY: Yes, my mother's often told me the same thing.

MIKE: Oh? And who is your mother?

MELODY: Her name is Katie. She's my father's third wife.

MIKE: What a striking coincidence! My father Tom is married to a woman named Katie, and it's his third marriage also.

MELODY: Really? My mother Katie has two children, named Mike and Melody. We were separated at birth.

MIKE: Unbelievable! My father Tom has two children, Melody and Mike, who were also separated at birth. (pause) To prevent them from suffocating each other.

MELODY: How exciting! Do you suppose you and I are related?

MIKE: Anything's possible in a weirdo play like this. Well, we're off to see your psychiatrist, the one that murders all of his family members. (they exit as TOM enters opposite. He holds up a weedeater)

TOM: If you faint at the sight of blood, leave now.

KATIE: (reenters with a suitcase and a gun in her hand) Well, darling husband, I've returned from the bedroom.

TOM: Is that a gun I see in your hand?

KATIE: You betcha it is.

TOM: What do you intend to do with it?

KATIE: I intend to place it up to your head and pull the trigger. After all, you did announce there would be a murder during this play.

TOM: Oh, Katie, haven't you read the script? The murder doesn't occur until later.

KATIE: Well, we can change all that. I mean, if we can do the show without Jack, we can certainly throw this in.

TOM: Well, you can try, but I'm telling you in advance that it simply won't work.

KATIE: We'll see about that. (sets suitcase down) I'm walking over to you now. I'm placing the gun against your head. (does so) Are you prepared, Tom?

TOM: Of course I'm prepared. I'm always prepared. I'm an actor.

KATIE: Very well, then. One. Two. Three. (pulls trigger. Huge gunshot, TOM crumples to the floor) Well, that wasn't too difficult.

TOM: (stands up, brushes clothes off) Hello, my dear.

KATIE: Didn't I kill you?

TOM: No you didn't.

KATIE: But you crumpled to the floor as if you were dead.

TOM: I was only kidding.

KATIE: Why didn't it work?

TOM: It's not in the script.

KATIE: (takes a script from her suitcase and flips through it) Excuse me, Tom, but my death isn't in the script either.

TOM: What? Let me see that. (grabs script) Oh, Katie, you such a naive little person. This isn't the script for "Stuff Happens." This is the script for "Romeo and Juliet." Of course your death isn't in this script.

KATIE: (pause, stares at TOM) Oh Romeo, Romeo.

TOM: My name isn't Romeo.

KATIE: Wherefore art thou, Romeo?

TOM: She dies in this play, too, Katie.

KATIE: She does? How?

TOM: She stabs herself. (pause) Say, now there's an idea. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere. (exits)

KATIE: Oh well. I'm not really worried. You see, it's only my character that's about to be murdered. I, as an actress, am in perfect safety. This is only another fine example of the many different aspects of the theatre. Should we talk about some of the other aspects of the theatre? There are certainly a few aspects we haven't mentioned. For instance, many of you lovely audience members are entirely unaware of the behind-the-scenes aspect of the theatre. A good example of this is the unfortunate accident that occurred earlier with an eyeliner pencil.

JACK: (offstage) Will you get the hell out of my way? The show's falling to pieces!

TOM: (offstage) Jack, your head's falling to pieces!

KATIE: It's a good thing Bill was here when Jack poked the side of his face off. Bill is an understudy. He learned all the same lines and all the same blocking that Jack did, in case an accident like this were ever to occur. I guess you could say that it's fortunate for Bill that Jack's such a mess. This is Bill's big break. This is his chance to impress the big Hollywood director that's among you lovely audience members. It was also Jack's big break, but he no longer possesses most of the left side of his head, and wouldn't make a very good impression. (exits)

(MIKE and MELODY enter)

MIKE: . . .and so the cow said, "Put away that stapler!" Get it?

MELODY: (laughing hysterically) Where'd you hear that?

MIKE: At a shoe store, I think. (He sits down center stage,

MELODY sits next to him)

MELODY: So. . .

MIKE: So. . .

MELODY: Are you enjoying the play so far?

MIKE: Oh, yeah. . .

MELODY: What's your favorite play?

MIKE: My favorite play?

MELODY: Yeah, your favorite play. Mine's "Brighton Beach Memoirs." It's really funny. So what's your favorite play?

MIKE: I think my favorite play is the good old Statue of Liberty Play.

MELODY: Statue of Liberty play? I've never heard of that.

MIKE: Oh, it's when the quarterback fades back and passes long to. . .

MELODY: (laughing hysterically) That's a good one! Where'd you hear that?

MIKE: Nowhere. I was serious.

MELODY: Oh. (long pause) So, Mike, tell me about yourself.

MIKE: Well, I don't exist in most parallel time frames.

MELODY: That's interesting. I've always wanted to be a singer. You know, like Madonna. I think she's really cool.

MIKE: I'm into particle physics.

MELODY: Or a dancer. I've always liked dancing. Ever since I was five, when my mom made me take my first dance class.

MIKE: Astral projection's pretty neat, too.

MELODY: I would practice my dancing every night when I got home, because I loved it so much. And then I would sing. . .

MIKE: I could build electric typewriters. . .

MELODY: . . .all my favorite songs. . .

MIKE: . . .study farm animals. . .

MELODY: Are you listening to me?

MIKE: What? Oh, sorry. I wasn't listening.

MELODY: You'll never make a good husband if you don't listen to people.

MIKE: You'll never make a good wife if you don't stop talking all the time.

MELODY: (gasps) I've never been so insulted in all my life!

MIKE: What about the time that pervert on 4th St. called you--

MELODY: Enough! I've had quite enough!

MIKE: But we've only just begun!

MELODY: (pause) True. Well, let's go see the psychiatrist, and then we can have some time to ourselves. Would you like that?

MIKE: That depends.

MELODY: On what?

MIKE: On whether we're in character or not. (they exit)

JACK: (offstage) Out of my way, or I'll blow your stinking head off!

TOM: (offstage) Jack, be reasonable! You know that's not possible!

JACK: And why not?

TOM: It's not in the script!

(KATIE enters, stops center stage. Long pause. She stares at audience. Finally she says:)

KATIE: So, did you hear the one about the cow and the stapler?

TOM: (entering) I have a vial of poison here, darling. I'd like you to drink it.

KATIE: I have a question.

TOM: Ask and it shall be answered.

KATIE: Why would I willingly drink a vial of poison?

TOM: Because you love me, and because I asked you to.

KATIE: Oh. Is this real poison, or just stage poison?

TOM: Why, it's real poison, of course. Only the best for my wife, that's what I always say.

KATIE: Do you have an antidote?

TOM: Yes. It's contained in the form of a pill. I'm keeping it in an aspirin bottle in the medicine cabinet.

KATIE: Oh. (pause) Did I mention I have a terrible headache?

TOM: No, you didn't. But I know what you're going to try, you devious little actress, you. You're going to say something like, "I don't want to die with a terrible headache, could I please go get some aspirin?" And then you'll go to the medicine cabinet, find the antidote, and take it after you've swallowed the poison, and then all my efforts will be to naught.

KATIE: Come now, darling, do you honestly think I'd pull a stunt like that? After all, I love you so much.

TOM: Well, that's true.

KATIE: Of course it's true. Now I'm going to go grab some aspirin. I'll be right back. (exits)

TOM: (to audience) She's very good at lying, that Katie is. Why, she almost had me convinced that she really wanted an aspirin. But no, I'm quite positive that she's gone after the antidote. In fact, I. . .hey! (runs off after her)

(MIKE and MELODY enter)

MIKE: (to audience) Hello again!

MELODY: You may be wondering why we haven't reached they psychiatrist's office yet.

MIKE: It's very simple. They haven't finished building the set yet. (MELODY runs off) But in the meantime, to pass the time away, it's time for: "Name That Quote!"

(Bad music, canned applause up. KATIE and MELODY enter carrying contestants' row. KATIE hands MIKE a mike.)

MIKE: Thank you, darling. Yes, it's time for your favorite game show, in which our panel of contestants try to name a famous quote from history. The winner will receive an all-expenses paid trip to Anchorage, Alaska, where they'll spend seven days and eight nights wrestling with a lumberjack! The losers will of course be fed to a weedeater. And now, let's introduce our illustrious panel of contestants. (STAN enters) First, from Sewage, Nebraska, an aspiring young door-to-door Jello salesman, Stan Kobrowski! (canned applause, STAN smiles and takes his place. AL enters) Next, from Stubbed Toe, Arkansas, this contestant bought himself a place in the Guiness Book of World Records by devouring 3,492 volumes of the Encyclopedia Brittanica, Al Simpson! (AL takes his place) And now, tonight's celebrity contestant: you know him best as America's number one family man, but his friends and family alike know him as "the demon of the Ginsu knives," may I present to you, Tom Reynolds! (Tom enters, takes place) Well, contestants, you know how to play the game, so let's begin with our first quote. Stan, this quote is yours. Who said the following?

MELODY: "Go suck on a baloney sandwich."

STAN: Gee, Mike, that's a tough one. I'll say. . .Henry Kissinger?

MIKE: No, Stan, I'm afraid that's not correct. Al, the quote passes to you.

AL: I'll say Billy Carter.

MIKE: No, that's not correct either. Tom, the quote's yours for twenty points.

TOM: Was it Raymond Q. Offleheimer?

MIKE: You are absolutely correct! (canned applause) Twenty points for Tom. Next quote. Who said this?

KATIE: "When the sun is blacked out by clouds, and mist fills the sky. . .it'll be pretty dark."

MIKE: Okay, Stan, your quote.

STAN: William Shakespeare?

MIKE: Sorry, but that's incorrect. Al, your quote.

AL: Ralph Waldo Emerson?

MIKE: No, incorrect. Tom, your quote.

TOM: Billy Bob Simpson.

MIKE: Again, correct! Another twenty points for Tom Reynolds! Next quote. Who said this?

MELODY: "I am Heinrich Himmler."

STAN: Oooo, that's a toughie. Ummmm. . .Neil Simon?

MIKE: Incorrect, Stan. The quote is yours, Al.

AL: Eugene Ionesco?

MIKE: Incorrect. Tom, for twenty points, name that quote.

TOM: Heinrich Himmler.

MIKE: Correct! Twenty points! That's sixty for Tom, zero for Al, and zero for Stan. (a buzzer sounds) Well, contestants, that buzzer means our game is over. With sixty points, Tom Reynolds is our winner. Al and Stan, it's been a pleasure having you, but now, as was previously mentioned, you'll be fed to a weedeater.

(TOM pulls out a weedeater and chases AL and STAN offstage. KATIE takes MIKE's mike and then pushes contestants' row off stage.)

MELODY: What was that all about?

MIKE: I don't know, but I think I'm falling in love. Oh, gee, here he comes now.

(TOM comes riding in on a rolling psychiatrists' couch)

TOM: Hello, boys and girls! (throws out a handful of lolly-pops) Welcome to my office!

MELODY: Well, that wasn't too hard.

MIKE: (to TOM) Hello, dad.

TOM: Who are you?

MIKE: I'm your son, Mike.

TOM: I don't have a son named Mike. I have a daughter named Mike. But I sent her away when she was young.

MELODY: Hello, father.

TOM: Are you Mike?

MELODY: No, I'm Melody. I'm here for my weekly session.

TOM: And why did you bring this bum along?

MELODY: He says you're his father.

TOM: Well, of course I'm his father. Who did you think I was-- his mother?

MIKE (to audience) This is rapidly becoming very silly. The author must have been feverish when he wrote this.

TOM: Who are you talking to?

MIKE: The audience, O wonderful father.

TOM: What audience? All I see is the far wall of my office.

MIKE: There's no wall there, Father.

TOM: Well, if there's no wall, then what are all me pictures hanging on?

MIKE: There aren't any pictures either.

TOM: Well, of course there are! You see? There's the one of me with your mother on our honeymoon night. Surely you remember that night. We made you sleep under the bed. And there's the picture of me with that cardboard cutout of John F. Kennedy. He seemed a little stiff that day. But, oh, that smile! He was always ready to crack that smile, even for a complete stranger like me.

MIKE: Father, there aren't any pictures. It's just audience as far as the eye can see, all the way back to the far wall of the auditorium.

TOM: Oh. Is that where my pictures are hanging?

MIKE: (yelling) You don't have any pictures!

TOM: (yelling) We'll see about that! Miss Hepburn!

KATIE: (entering with notepad) Yes, Mr. Reynolds?

TOM: I want some pictures on that back wall, on the double!

KATIE: I'm afraid that's not possible.

TOM: Why not?

KATIE: Because I've just swallowed a vial of poison and I'm about to die. Sorry.

MELODY: Hello, mother.

KATIE: Hello, Melody. You'll come to my funeral, won't you?

MELODY: Of course I will.

KATIE: You'll buy an expensive coffin, won't you?

MELODY: Of course I will.

KATIE: You'll remember your next line, won't you?

MELODY: Of course I will.

KATIE: What is your next line?

MELODY: My next line is, "Why in the world did you just swallow a vial of poison?"

KATIE: Because I couldn't get the lid open. So I just swallowed the entire vial.

TOM: Good thinking. Now the poison won't enter your blood stream, and you won't die after all.

MELODY: Oh, and I had such an excellent eulogy planned!

KATIE: (to MIKE) And who might you be?

MIKE: I might be anyone.

KATIE: Don't mouth off to your elders. Who are you?

MIKE: My name is Mike. I'm Tom's son.

KATIE: Oh really? Why don't you make a name for yourself like your father has? He's America's number one family man, you know.

MELODY: He's also a schizophrenic psychiatrist.

TOM: (jumping up) I am not! Oh, sit down and quit interrupting. (sits down)

KATIE: Well, Tom, I think we'd better go.

TOM: But we just got here.

KATIE: I don't care. Neither one of our fine children have had a chance to deliver a soliloquy yet.

(TOM lays down on the couch and KATIE wheels him out)

MELODY: Oh dear. I haven't got a soliloquy prepared.

MIKE: You said you had an excellent eulogy planned.

MELODY: Well, yes, I do, but no one's dead.

MIKE: You might want to practice it just in case.

MELODY: Good thinking. (clears her throat) Fellow mourners, we are gathered here today because someone very dear to us is dead. It's a very sad occurrence, you know. After all, it's not every day a person's mother is poisoned by America's number one family man.

MIKE: No, no, no, that will never do.

MELODY: Why not?

MIKE: Because no one's dead.

MELODY: I just said that!

MIKE: Oh. Good for you. You know, just this morning I said to myself, "Self, you'd better be prepared to give a speech today, because soon enough you'll have to give one." And, well, look at me now. It's my turn to give a speech.

MELODY: What are you going to do your speech on?

MIKE: Love.

MELODY: Love? What do you know about love?

MIKE: (defensively) Plenty. I listen to the radio every night. (picks up electric guitar) This is a little ditty about Jack and Diane, two American kids growing up in the heartland.

MELODY: You're a rock and roller?

MIKE: You betcha.

MELODY: You know, rock and roll is really quite evil. It corrupts the mind and soul. I went out with a rock and roller once. He took me to a black mass, and when that was done we went back to his cave and played Dungeons and Dragons and listened to Led Zeppelin albums backwards. It was just awful.

(Tremendous shouting offstage, TOM comes running on, carrying a sword.)

TOM: There's nothing I can do!

MELODY: What's going on?

TOM: It's Jack! We can't keep him back any longer, and his head is about to fall off!

JACK: (offstage) Out of my way!

(KATIE comes flying on, she practically rolls across the stage.)

KATIE: Here he comes!

(JACK enters. His head is totally wrapped in bloodstained bandages. He carries a sword. Grand majestic theme music up.)

JACK: (to TOM) There you are, you filthy rat! Have at thee, villain!

(He engages TOM in swordplay center stage. KATIE and MELODY flee screaming to opposite sides of the stage. MIKE stays in place, eyes closed, strumming on guitar.)

JACK: You should not have come back, old man. When I left you, I was but a learner. Now I am the master.

TOM: Only a master of evil, Jack. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine.

(They fight again. Finally, TOM is disarmed.)

JACK: Now, prepare to meet thy doom!

TOM: Oh, hell, Jack. (draws a pistol, puts it to JACK's head, and pulls the trigger. JACK dies.) Well, that's that.

(The psychiatrist couch rolls on. MIKE and MELODY lift JACK onto the couch and roll him off.)

KATIE: It looks to me like this whole play has reached its climax. Not so bad, really, but I was hoping for a romance before the thing was over. (glances at TOM seductively)

TOM: Don't look at me.

KATIE: (shrugs) Hey, Stan. . . (exits)

TOM: Thus endeth our story, folks. Made no sense at all, did it? That's surrealism for you. It's just a lot of nonsensical dialogue strung together that usually has some symbolic meaning. And what's the symbolic meaning of "Stuff Happens?" There is none. This whole thing was just meant to occupy a certain amount of time, entertain a certain amount of people, utilize a certain amount of talent, and earn a certain amount of money, like so many other things these days. But we love it anyway. It doesn't matter that we're all just characters in a two-bit one-act play, because we're also actors and actresses, people with personality, albeit a bit big-headed at times. Anyway, we've got performances scheduled for every Thursday night for the rest of eternity. But now, it's time for the intermission. We're serving refreshments in the lobby. When you come back, I'll be gone, and then you can start to enjoy yourselves. (curtain closes, he's standing in front of it) I think I'll go get that weedeater. (exits)

The End