Wright makes right

[Vorin]

Well as no one on Althanas knows, I'm taking a playwrighting class in my high school. And since I never really contribute hobbies to this unless I'm bored and they're quick, I might as well put something up that isn't pictures or poetry.

This first one made everyone laugh in class. I think "female lumberjack" just does that to people. Enjoy. And comments are appriciated and used later to inflate my ego.

***

Scene Opens. Darrien comes running into the room elated. His cheerful face seems to light up the walls. Behinds him strolls a very confident Cain, a smirk playing on his lips. The living room is a nightmare of kitch. Fake lisence plates and bobble heads adorn the odd pastel walls. Darrien's mood begins to fade.

Darrien: Why isn't she here?

Cain: Relax, she'll be here soon.

Darrien: I really shouldn't be here with my condition. I could've stayed home you know.

Cain: ((amused)) Oh yes, your problem.

Darrien: ((agitated)) Shut up. It's not funny at all.

Cain: No. It is funny. Now would you just relax? ((Coyly)) Just "take a seat." ((Darrien glares at Cain, not moving to sit. There is a cold pause between the two.)) Do you want something?

Darrien: Yeah. I want Faith here, now.

Cain: I meant to drink, idiot. You know what I meant. ((Before Darried has a chance to respond, the doorbell chimes)) There, you see, she's here. ((Cain goes to open the door. Faith enters with a wave.))

Faith: ((eagerly)) Hey Cain. Hey Darrien. ((Darrien blushes at his name))

Darrien and Cain: ((Like schoolyard children)) Hi Faith.

Faith: Hope I'm not too late.

Cain: Nope, come in. ((The three of them move over to Cain's couch, but only Cain and Faith sit. Darrien stands awkwardly.))

Darrien: ((unable to make eye contact)) So, yeah, Faith. How've you been?

Faith: Pretty good. I'll be getting my driver's lisence soon. Mr. Atton told me how much expierence we needed before we could get it.

Darrien: He never taught us that. ((pointing at Cain.)) He never taught us how many hours we needed.

Cain: Yes he did. I'm in class with you.

Darrien: He didn't.

Cain: ((Unsure)) Yes he did....wait, yeah, no he didn't. ((trying to regain his train of thought)) But he did tell us during the permit test.

Darrien: You should see me drive. I'm a sick driver. I go up and down the highway like ten times. I'm like speed racer. ((Tries to hum the Speed Racer theme, but it comes out more like the theme to Home Improvement. Faith smiles and Cain remains blank faced. Darrien reaches into his pocket retrieving a piece of gum)) Yep.

Cain: Give me a piece of gum Darrien. ((Darrien reluctantly hands a stick over to Cain.)) It better not have, like nicotine in it.

Faith: This is nice. Say, did you guys see Steven. ((uses her finger to show the scar's shape)) He has these stiches on his face. He's going to have a sick scar over his eye for the rest of his life.

Darrien: ((Fidgeting a little as he stands)) That's why I don't play sports. I need my face.

Cain: ((Oblivious to the others stares)) That couldn't have come from sports. You can't get a cut while wearing a helmet. It's impossible. ((Darrien motions to leave)) Where are you going?

Darrien: Just to the bathroom to wash my hands. They're sticky from an apple I ate.

Cain: ((mock curiousity)) I didn't see you eat an apple.

Darrien: ((To Cain in a muffled shout)) Well I did. ((To faith, far more pleasantly)) I'll be right back, K. ((Not even waiting for a reply he leaves the room and clenched steps.))

Faith: Huh, that was strange.

Cain: I've always said that boy was a weird one. So how've you been?

Faith: ((Off guard)) Well, um, good.

Cain: Why'd you want me to invite him over, anyways?

Faith: It's been so long since the three of us hung out.

Cain: Yeah, but..((A bit more suggestive)) It could've been the two of us. ((Darrien re-enters the room, looking a bit more at ease))

Darrien: Back! Anything happen while I was gone?

Faith: No, not really. Um, Cain, can I get something to drink?

Cain: I can get it...

Faith: No, that's not nessicary. I have legs. Where's your kitchen? ((She rises))

Cain: That'a'way. ((He points to door as she exits))

Darrien: ((Kneels on the couch, purposefully not sitting done.)) Did you tell her anything while I was gone? ((Suspiciously))

Cain: What? ((Raises voice louder)) About you having explosive Diheri- ((Cain's mouth is muffled quickly by Darrien's hand, which he takes off quickly)) Idiot. No I didn't. Your disgusting secret's safe with me.

Darrien: ((Honestly)) Look man, you know I want to get with Faith. Why do you have to ruin this for me?

Cain: I do too, Darrien. You're not the sun, we're not revolving around you.

Darrien: Why do you have to act like that?

Cain: Because I want to go out with her too. ((Stubbornly)) And this is my house so I should be able to.

Darrien: ((Annoyed)) We're not sharing an XBox Cain. We're taling about a girl.

Cain: Look, I don't even see why you came over. What with your condition and all.

Darrien: Look, when she comes out here, we'll just ask her bluntly which one of us she likes more.

Cain: ((Confidently)) Which will obviously be me.

Darrien: What's that suppose to mean? ((He wraps his arms around his body defensively))

Cain: ((Playfully)) C'mon, face it. You're fugly.

Darrien: ((More aggressively)) Oh shut up. That beard makes you look like a female luberjack. ((Just as he finishes, Faith re-enters the room. Both boys rise, Darrien a little more slowly.))

Faith: Sorry guys, I've got to go. My boyfriend just called my cell. Seriosuly, sometimes I'd think he lose his own head if it wasn't for me. But it was great seeing you two again, hope we can do it again real soon. ((Stunned, the boys don't even move as the girl gives each of them a quick hug as she moves to exit))

Darrien and Cain: Buh..bye..? ((Faith Exits))

Cain: ((Recovering)) Well...guess that one was decided. I didn't think she had a boyfriend. But oh well. Wanna' do something?

Darrien: Yeah, I want to go home. ((Arrogantly)) Oh, and you might want to clean your bathroom. I really messed that place up. ((Darrien Exits)).

((Cain Stands Alone in his living room.))

Cain: Wait a minute...does Faith even have a cellphone...?

[Vampiric Angel]

lol That's pretty good. I like it. Way to go, man.

[Vorin]

That one was from a project where I had to easedrop on a conversation and then use the dialogue, or a little bit of it, for a scene. Unlike other people, I just created a whole new thing from scratch with a new setting.

The next piece that I have on my computer is a monologue. Just a random monologue we had to base off stream of consciousness journals. The very first sentence was in my journal so I just went with it. Oh, yes of course. It is meant to be boy on boy, set at one of those swinging fag joints. COMMENT IF YOU READ. Please.

"I wish these were the days where I could just sit back and enjoy the simple hedonistic pleasures in life. Sometimes I feel like the last libertine on earth, that everyone else just muffles what they say because that's not what everyone else is saying. I feel like the legacies of Sade and Wilmot live on with me in the modern day. I don't know, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm just trying to inflate my ego in some sort of masturbatory attempt at attention. I just thought you seemed a bit different from the rest of the crowd here, a little more out of the ordinary and a lot less vain. Vainity is a taste I've never gotten use to. Something about contempt from beauty disturbs me to the core. One doesn't expect the Mona Lisa to give you the finger after all. But I digree. I'm not sure what it is about you that makes you different. Call it a gut feeling, first impression, or, though lacking the proper genitalia, women's intuition. Perhaps the romantic in me enjoys the simple subltities of a wallflower not yet in bloom. I want you to bloom for me, I want to see those arms taken off the wall and wrapped around me. But most of all I want to see your breathless screams of rapture, your eyes intoxicated from bliss. I want you."

[Winter]

A nice short to do for a Highschool.

Edit: In regard to the first. You posted whilst I was posting.

[Nightsangel]

That's really good Vorin. I wasn't expecting the twist in the script for the play. Its really good, I liked it.

[Serilliant]

I'll point out first that while 'playwright' is the proper form of the noun, 'playwriting' is the proper progressive form. 'Playwrighting' is nonsense.

That having been said, I, at first, thought your "twist" conclusion of having Faith expose her boyfriend was rather mundane and played out. But the closing line did elicit a chuckle from me. Clever and unexpected. I have no experience with playwriting, so I can't speak as to the effectiveness of your piece, but I did enjoy it. For a sample exercise, it's well done.

Your monologue, at first, I didn't like. It felt very much like you were exposing your skills with a thesaurus. Remember that monologues are supposed to be spoken. Read your piece out loud and you'll see how awkward and fake it sounds; no one uses those words when they talk. The latter part of the monologue, though still utilizing elevated diction, came across as more realistic. It's also very interesting, I think, as it communicates emotion quite well. But that is in stark contrast to your superciliousness in the first couple of sentences which stole away from the realness and the emotion. Maybe consider an alternate lead in?

Finally, this sentence bugs me: "Call it a gut feeling, first impression, or, though lacking the proper genitalia, women's intuition". It's a terrific line and quite clever, but it's compound-complexness caused you to make some variety of grammatical or syntactical error that I can't quite put my finger on. I would change it to: "Call it, if you will, a gut feeling, first impression, or, though lacking the proper genitalia, women's intuition". Though it's still missing something, it's not quite as apparent. For some reason, my eyes were expecting a "but," clause before the period. There's some sort of parallelism I was waiting for and never got. Anyone else feel that way or maybe I'm just reading it wrong?

[AdventWings]

Heh, now that's a good script you can elaborate on. The play script seemed quite straight-forward and will work well for a short skit at the school. Also, I can see potential in it being a scene in a larger play that you might think of along the way.

As for the second entry... Yeah. The emotion present came and went a bit superficial in my understanding, but I can see something else as well. There could be more meaning here that you intended the readers to see, I just haven't understood it completely yet.

Good job.

EDIT: Ditto to what Serillient said about the dialogue.

[Vorin]

I knew there was something wrong with that sentence. I get to hear someone read it next time I have class, so it might be better in action. Ironically that's the first time I didn't use a thesaurus for my writing.

And it can be spelled both ways, or so dictionary.com (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/Playwrighting) agrees.

[Lucien]

Vorin here, just wanted to keep this alive. Here's my newest work, not yet finished. But it will be, soon.

Characters -
Lewis: A young man not even 19, turned into a vampire by the obsessive Lucien. Angry at the vampire angst that he was brought to against his will, the usually shy boy often lashes out at the one who sired him. He has a subtle kind of beauty that is wasted in the dark, his wide eyes meant to see day.
Lucien: Sired at Lewis' mortal age, Lucien has a sort of ageless quality about him. Pompose, arrogant, seductive, he feels a cut above the rest of vampires and mortals as well. However, he has a strange attraction to Lewis that goes beyond a simple conquest. Enjoys wearing fine velvet frock coats and victorian styles long outdated.
Alexia: Lucien's sister. Her ego is almost a match for her brother's. She seems to foster all the qualities the bible warned against in women.

Scene -
The scene opens to a parlor, draped in a rich decandance. The tang of sweet flowers hangs heavy in the air, clinging to the mouth like a taste. The lighting is simple, subtle, like a steady candle unable to flicker. Black velvet curtains hang to cover the barren brick walls. Tiny covert windows cut into the mason work show that the room is in a basement. The few uncovered walls are dressed in reproductions of Hieronymus Bosch's Ascent of the Blessed, Terrestrial Paradise, Fall of the Damned, and Hell. Each painting seems to tell a different side of vampirism. In front of the only couch lays a finely laquered table, complete with a vase of roses on top. One arm chair sits to the right of the couch, a deep maroon in color with golden trim. The couch itself is the center peice of the room, long and lush but designed for style first. Upon it rests Lewis, his hair unkempt and ruffled. With soft breath and pale skin, the boy seems to sleep like death itself. In walks Lucien from a the left room with a dancer's step, carefully preformed as if in front of an audiance. In his hands he hold a glass filled with a thick red liquid and as he walks closer, eyes fixed on the sleeping Lewis, he begins to swirl it around. With a theatrical wave of his free the lights grow a little more bright, causing the boy to stir in his slumber. Lucien can't help but smile, a fanged grin that tells some sense of accomplishment slowly grows on his lips. Lucien relaxes on the free space left on the couch, nudging Lewis' legs back with his posterior. Slowly the older vampire places his glass on the table, careful not to make a single sound to wake his sleeping guest. His movements are simple and silent, but have all the grace of the finest parisian preformers. Lucien delights in Lewis' hair as he runs his fingers through the fine brown strands, which causes no action from Lewis. Heavy steps are heard from the right hallway as Alexia enters. Dressed in only the sluttiest, her high heeled boots and low cut shirt seem misplaced in the whimsical motiff of the room. Stomping towards the empty chair, she tries to get Lucien's attention the only way she knows, annoyance. He gives her passing glance as she sits down, like one would give a cat that just rubbed up against one's hand. There is a moment of silence as Lucien continues to pet Lewis while Alexia only watches is restrained resentment.


Alexia: (Pretending not to care) Is this your new toy?

Lucien: (Quietly) Is Bela Lugosi still dead? (He stops stroking Lewis for a moment as he looks over his nails effeminatly. The audiance notices that they have an unnatural sheen to them, like the table. He returns to petting, this time more slowly.) I'm trying to think what business it is of yours. You hold concern here for what reason now, sister dearest?

Alexia: (Coyly) I was curious which gutter your dragged him out of. (More irrate) It must of been rather pleasant if you chose to give him our gift.

Lucien: (He stops stroking Lewis again, bringing his right hand's forefinger to his lips. Rolling his eyes towards Alexia, he closes them and begins to speak softly.) Your powers of observation astound even me, Alexia. Firstly, the "gutters" I frequent are much finer then the back alleyways you haunt. Secondly, It is not our gift but mine. I only shared it with you out of pity and simple brotherly love. I gave him the dark gift because I wanted him. Mortal toys don't last as long, they break too easily. (opening his eyes again)

Alexia: (Not phased by the outburst, she seems to have experience dealing with such scathing words.) You've never had a problem finding replacements before. Why should this one be any different?

Lucien: Because he is. We've been gifted for six months now and I grow bored of your company. I need a pet.

Alexia: Get a dog? Cat? Draw a funny face on your hand? You do seem like the only person who could get along with you.

Lucien: Now sister, you'd really want a better conversationist replacing you? I just need some amusement on the side.

Alexia: You don't get enough of that frequenting the clubs? (She gestures towards her breasts) Why with these, I attract mortals to me like moths to the flame. Or sheeps to the slaughter, whichever anaolgy you prefer.

Lucien: (He looks from her chest to her face, staring right into her eyes. Snidely) You should really check the experation date on those. (Alexia puts up a display of faux offense at the statement.) Now, there needn't be anymore convseration about him.

Alexia: Would you atleast say who he is? I know I've seen his face before.

Lucien: (He pretends to think for a moment, laying on a thick act of confusion. Suddenly, the lightbulb flashes.) You may remember him from school darling. I believe his name was Lewis then. Always so shy, and had the worst taste in music. I think he hated TOOL, the little savage. (He flicks Lewis, causing the boy to roll a little.) Oh, he'll be asleep for a spell.

Alexia: So a young love from High school? An emo even? (Sarcastically) Why if this isn't a modern telling of Romeo and Juliet, I don't know what is.

Lucien: (Gravely serious) It's not love, sister. There's a difference between euphoria in the brain and tearing someone in twain. (There is a long moment of silence.) And you've never read Romeo and Juliet. So unless the story was mentioned in Cosmo, I don't know how you would've heard it.

Alexia: (Playing along) Why, they had such a nice retelling of it on Fox Family a few weeks back. I just love a happy ending, the families seeing their own errors, the kids getting together. Isn't it magical?

Lucien: Speaking of magic, I've never liked that channel's hippocrisy. They air 13 days of Halloween, complete with the pagen witchcraft, devil worrship, the undead, and the end of the world, and yet won't show anything with same sex couples because it's not "family friendly." The moral you ask? The black arts, ok. Acts of faggotry, evil.

Alexia: (Glaring over at Lewis' sleeping form) Which is why we're better, brother dear. "We are immortal. And what we have before us are the rich feasts that conscience cannot appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret."

Alexia and Lucien: (At once, enjoying the spectacle of it)"God kills and so shall we; indiscriminately He takes the richest and the poorest, and so shall we; for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him as ourselves, dark angels not confined to the stinking limits of hell but wandering His earth and all its kingdoms."

Lucien: But I have my "child" now, sister. And I want to spend some time with him, alone.

Alexia: (In a child's voice) It's your life. I was just trying to see if he was worth the gift. (Cynically) I have no doubt you were right. May your conquest be ripe, and may you weep when their are no more virgins to pluck. I'm going to the club. (She gets up, bows slightly, and walks towards the hallway.)

Lucien: Try not to leave too many bodies. We don't need the attention. (Alexia looks back at her brother, edging her eyes at Lewis.) Oh, don't worry about him. He'll be in the bedroom too much to be noticed by anyone. (He winks in faux enthusiasm.)

Alexia: Oh brother, and people call me the slut. (She exits. Lucien gets up, his eyes fixed on Lewis as he quietly walks to the back of the couch. His hands rest on the couch's back.)

Lucien: (Softly) He sleeps like an angel. (Slowly Lucien reaches under the couch and lifts it at an angle effortlessly *could use inflatable couch with velvet covering*. Lewis rolls off with a start, nearly hitting the coffee table in front of him. Lewis slowly crawls up, dizzily) Ah! Glad to see you're awake.

Lewis: (There is an awkward moment of silence as Lewis can only look at Lucien in utter confusion. He tries to speak but he finds he mouth too dry. With great effort the words finally come to him.) What? Who are you? (He rubs his eyes, trying to get rid of the blury vision. Lucien sets the couch back down, patting the seat and giving Lewis time to sit back down on it. Lucien sits next too Lewis, who looks incredibly uncomfortable.)

Lucien: (Eagerly) Why my dear, don't you recall? We were married. (At once Lewis' eyes grow wide in shock) Oh it was a lovely service indeed. Black roses lined our twin coffins as we were rolled up the -

Lewis: (In a rasped yell) What? We can't be married! We -

Lucien: (Forcefully, causing Lewis to quiet down) May I finish? (Tapping his temple with his forefinger, exaggerating deep thought) Oh now, see what you have done? I've lost my train of thought. Oh, but you're right, we aren't married yet. No, I do believe the matter of consummation remains.

Lewis: What?!

Lucien: Consummation, love. You see, for a marriage to be considered valid, the bride and groom must sleep in wedded bliss. Why without it, the world would dissolve to utter chaos! (Lucien wraps his veltvet coated arm around the shocked Lewis, only to have it thrown off as Lewis moves the the very edge of the couch, still a little too woozy to stand up.)

Lewis: I know what consemation is, don't touch me. Who are you? (Looks around) And where the hell am I? (Pause. Almost hysterical) Answer me!

Lucien: (Faking Surpised) Temper, temper darling! Do I have to site irreconsitable differences for our divorce papers?

Lewis: (Screaming as best he can) We're not fucking married! (He finally gets up, only to stumble back into the chair Alexia sat in. He's shaking nervously)

Lucien: Now love, you've gone and made yourself all upset. (He grabs the wine glass he brought in earlier and slides across the couch like ice. He hands the glass to Lewis in his chair.) Drink up, it may just calm those frazzled nerves of yours.

Lewis: (He takes the glass and slams it down onto the egde of the coffee table, but not hard enough for it to break) I'm not drinking this, you pervert. You probably put ruffies or something in it. (He spots the Hallway Alexia used to leave.) I'm getting out of here now. (Threateningly) And I'm calling the cops when I get home! (As he stands up, so does Lucien and Lewis is soon pulled back onto the couch by the older vampire. Lucien pins the boy underneath his strength and Lewis struggles to get out from under him. He screams almost comically) Help! Someone! Rape!

Lucien: (Jokingly) Oh, it's not rape. Think of it as surprise sex, I just forgot the party favors. I kid, I kid.(He gives one final push to steady the struggling Lewis) Now stop struggling and maybe I'll give you some real answers. (Lewis finally yields. Pause. Seriously) What did you want to know?

Lewis: (Trying to catch his breath) Who are you? I think I remember you.

Lucien: (Shaking his head a little) Tisk tisk. You ask the wrong questions. You're thinking of who I was, and if that's the question then I was Lucien, the nerdy goth from your very own high school. But who I am is different, and what I am truly sums that all up. (Quietly) Now, can I trust you not to try and leave again if I let you up? (Lewis nods) Good boy. (Lucien hops off, raising his arms in the air like he's just finished a gymnastic feat. Lewis sits up, rubbing his sore arms) It's time you hear a story love, a quiant little tale of what became of the drama geek who went to your school. It's short, sweet, and to the point. (Standing up, Lucien leans over to Lewis' ear and whispers) I am Nosferatu, the bastard son of Cain, or simply put, a vampire.

Lewis: (Staring for a moment) No you're not. You're really not. (Sarcastically in Lucien's ear) I think you've watched a little too much Cruise on Pitt action. Or maybe try reading another selection from Anne Rice. She writes porn too.

Lucien: (Laughing a little) Oh har har. Poor (Pronounced in french) Louis, you just can't comprehend.

Lewis: (Trying to regain power) Okay, I comprehend just fine. You're insane. And my name's not Louis. It's Lewis.

Lucien: (Happily) Face the facts boy, I'm wearing a cravat, (repeating it louder and emphasizing the word) CRAVAT. Have you ever heard of someone wearing a cravat pinning anyone down? Well, except when the fights break out at the Hot Topic bargin bin, that's just chaos. (Serious again) Don't you remember what happened last night? You know, you were walking home...and...(Gestures for Lewis to finish)

Lewis: (Thinking, his eyes go blank for a moment.) You! You...you bit me! Oh, you're not just insane, you're fucking bonkers. You come out of my blind spot, knock me down, and bite me? I'm getting out of he- (as he tries to rise quickly, Lucien knocks him back down with a single handed push. Lucien then grabs the wine glass and shatters it against the table. It splits into large fragments and he takes one rather large peice and has a menancing grin on his face. Lewis recoils, afraid of what will happen. Lucien takes the jagged glass and cuts his own wrist, blood coming from the open wound. Lewis grimaces at the sight.)

Lucien: (Painfully) Another goth cuts himself. But wait! (Using his non-injured hand, Lucien wipes the blood from his wrist, and there is no wound where there was one before. First he shows a surprised Lewis his wrist, and then an "imaginary audiance in front of them.) Tah Dah! (He takes a bow to the audiance)

Lewis: (Softly, trying to conjure the words) You, you weren't lying. Oh..oh god...

Lucien: She can't help you.

Lewis: (He edges back in the couch seat, trying to make some room between him and Lucien. Desperately) No..it can't be.

Lucien: It can and is my friend. (He sits near Lewis who squirms uncomfortably.) You didn't want to hear the truth, not the facts at least. You wanted to hear some repackaged story you'd hear a dime a dozen on the news. Sex scandals? Forced sodomy? Oh sure, you're willing to accept that. But a vampire? No, of course not. (There is a long silence, Lewis looks over at Lucien who stares blankly towards the crowd. Without moving his eyes) Why haven't you tried to leave yet? (Lewis only shrugs, causing Lucien to lean back)

Lewis: (Resentfully) So, are you going to...kill me or something.

Lucien: That would be pretty tough, not to mention a hell of a lot of letters added. Can you even be Re-undead? Or would it be re-dead?

Lewis: What do you mean?

Lucien: Oh come on, don't be so thick headed. Can't you feel the least bit different?

Lewis: (In awe) I thought it was the ruffies...(Pause) So, I'm ...

Lucien: Nosferatu, the bastard son of Cain, ect...(Trying to lighten the mood) But more importantly, you're my sire.

Lewis: (Empty) What does that mean?

Lucien: My blood flows through you like your blood flows through me. We have a stronger connection, my dear. (Lucien moves close to Lewis, finally wrapping his arm around the boy.)

Lewis: So what now?

Lucien: I partake of those "rich feasts conscious can't appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret." Namely, you. (Lewis seems more placid now, almost hypnotized by Lucien's words.) Come my dear, vampirism isn't all that bad. I'll show you, the good side of it. (Lucien gets up, taking Lewis' hand, and walks him off into the left bedroom off stage. Lewis seems in a trance. End Scene 1)



Scene-
The parlor is dimmer now, and a new smell haunts the room.

[Lucien]

Thanks for all the comments guys! Anyway, this was my final play in the class. This is the unedited version, and mind you, this was read before my teacher.

Characters:

The Devil: Suave but goofy, he has all the tact of an Adam Sandler movie. Hedonistic pleasure no longer seems to completely dominate him.

Catherine: A shy young girl who just entered adulthood. Slowly deviating from the path of Catholicism.

Father O'Robin: A charming old priest with more skeletons in his closet than Patrick Bateman and Hannibal Lector combined.

God: A blunt woman by nature, she has the nasty habit of pointing out other people's faults.



Scene 1:

The well lit church office of Father O'Robin, filled with fine lacquered furniture and religious relics. Father O'Robin stands near his desk, an old fashioned telephone in his hand.


Father O'Robin:
(On the phone) Yes, she arrived this morning. Sister Agnus is giving her the tour… No, no. She seems fine. Maybe a bit too quiet, but- … Louise, I know she hasn't been the same since your husband's passing. We all miss Franklin. He was good, church going man… Listen, Louise, please listen. Young Catherine will be fine here in my charge… Yes, I know she has strayed. Name one sheep that doesn't grow curious of what lies beyond the pasture. (Jovial) I remember when you were younger, mightily tempted by the forbidden fruit. … (Laugh) Oh yes, what an awful mess that was. Glad those police never found the body. (laughs then sighs.) Good times…(More serious.) Don't worry Louise, I will treat her as if she were my daughter…. That's not the point…. Look, I know I'm not allowed to have children, I was just making a… (Catherine quietly enters from the door opposite of Father O'Robin, carrying a suitcase) Louise, there's no need to get snide… (More irate) I'll have you know my mother's legs were quite crossed, thank you. Listen… (Louder) Listen, Catherine just entered the room, I have to… What do you mean I don't call you enough? I'm your priest, I have sermons to write, funerals to … I'm not just like every other man in your life… (Irritated) For one thing, I know how to use a condom! Good-bye Louise. (He hangs up the phone in anger) Drunk B- (he turns, noticing Catherine.) Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry dear that you had to hear that.



Catherine:
(Raising her hand. Softly) I understand. Mother always gets like that during Lifetime original movie night.



Father O'Robin:
(He walks close to her) My dear, why are you still carrying that bag around. Surly Sister Agnus could take it for you.



Catherine:
I just feel uncomfortable letting her take my bag.



Father O'Robin:
Why? (Pause) Has she given you any reason to distrust her?



Catherine:
(Turning her head to the floor) Not really. Writing 'Whore' all over my walls is a thing all girls go through. At least that's what she said. It makes me closer to God to face my sins each morning waking up. And opening my closet. Seeing them on my mirror when I brush my teeth. When I go to the bathroom…



Father O'Robin:
(Softly, to himself almost) Some how I knew that gift of markers was a bad choice for her. (Shaking his head, as if from a day dream) None the less, that's an awful thing to do to you. (Murmurs) Even if it is true.



Catherine:
(Looking up naively) What?



Father O'Robin:
(Absently) Oh nothing. Listen, Catherine. You must get comfortable here. You have to think of us as family. One big happy catholic family. We've got older sisters to keep you in line. (He points to himself) A wise old uncle you can come to for guidance. We even have a judgmental father always disapproving of your choices.



Catherine:
(A pause. Unsure of herself) I guess...



Father O'Robin:
Now come my dear. (He gestures with his hand) Find sister Agnus and tell her to take your bags to a less...judgmental room.



Catherine:
Thank you Father.


Father O'Robin:
Anytime Catherine. Anytime. (She leaves quietly, a smile on her face. Father O'Robin heads back to his desk. There is a long silence as he hustles around his desk, shuffling papers. Soon he begins to hum a tune as he busily works. Words form at his lips, and softly he begins to sing.) I wanna' fuck you like an animal, I wanna' (He realizes he is singing loudly and promptly stops, yet still hums. From the same door Catherine entered, The Devil parades through as silently as a drunken goose. Father O'Robin freezes. The lights dim except a spotlight on The Devil himself.)



The Devil:
(Aside. Slyly.) You're probably wondering why I'm breaking the fourth wall. There are a dozen or so complicated answers to this. Why, I could just state to you that there are more than four walls, that we live in a vibrant three dimensional world full of sides. Perhaps I'm breaking the sixth wall, maybe fourteenth. (He pauses for a second) If you'll all humor me some more, perhaps there are no walls. The walls are mealy constraints created by us or by society. Maybe we're all in one infinite sphere expanding throughout the universe and creating its own eternity. (Pause. He "Da na na na's" The Twilight Zone theme.) Freaky. (He gestures towards the frozen image of Father O'Robin as a spot light falls on the priest. In his best Twilight Zone Host impression) Consider if you will, one Father O'Robin. A man with more kinks than a Bulgarian car. Now consider if you will one Prince of Darkness, the epitome of all that is sinful and wrong. (As he speaks he begins to touch each finger on his right hand to his thumb) A creature known to have the passion of Cassenova and the energy of a taught young Russian man. What will happen when these two meet? What follies will they get into and what satirical twists on society will come about in a completely subtle way? (Pause) Seriously, you all have the programs. What will happen? Don't worry, I'll wait. (Pause) You know what, you all take to long. Forget it. (Lights flicker back on.)



Why Father, I never knew you had such a talent for the vocal arts.



Father O'Robin: (Startled, he turns) What are you doing here?



The Devil: (strolls around the room, fingering the walls and pictures, picking up knick-knacks.) I was in the neighborhood, had a great sandwich at the deli right across the street. I tell you, those Jews are mighty pissed at you. Calling them 'Christ Killers' ain't exactly an Ice Breaker. Although it can do wonders for your career.



Father O'Robin: I need neither to hear from you or your demonic spawn. Leave this place at once. It is an affront our Lord and savior himself.

The Devil: (Stepping up to Father O'Robin) And the kiddie porn on your laptop isn't? "God" only knows what you do in your rectory when I'm not around. (He laughs) Rectory. Now would you relax? I'm just here for a routine check up. I do it to all my potential business clients. (He walks over to O'Robin's desk, examining more knick-knacks.)

Father O'Robin: I should've never made that deal with you, it was stupid and shameful of me. I was forced, tempted by your beguiling ways!

The Devil: (Strangely) Oh come off it Father! You're the one who contacted me. I'm still surprised someone actually answered my ad in Cosmo. My RP agent must've been thrilled over that.

Father O'Robin: (Moving behind his desk, noticeably frightened) I'll contest our contract. You won't get my soul!

The Devil: Contest it how? Contest how it's signed in your blood? The videotape of you signing it? The director's cut of the video where you sign it?

(Clearing his throat) Besides all that, I'm Satan! I've got a damnation full of lawyers. And, surprisingly, Talk Show hosts. Heartless bastards.

Father O'Robin: You are a cruel and evil beast, I can see why our Lord cast you down from His grace! You deceive us at our weakest moments, prey upon our ill wills. You're a savage creature.

The Devil: That hurt. That hurt right here (Indicating his heart.) You're off my Christmas Card list now, that's for sure. (Begins to cry a little) I go...(catches himself) I go out of my way to keep you from the public eye. I silence some witnesses. I sully my hands all for you, and what do I get in return?

(Returning to a more sensible tone) Now quiet yourself. I just want to make sure you're not hiding any other dirty secrets on me. (He looks to the giant picture of the pope behind the Father's desk. A tad disgusted, he slowly walks towards the painting.) A bit much, don't you think? God, that man's pours are huge! I hope you don't mind...(He begins to turn the picture over.)

Father O'Robin: No! (The father tries to stop The Devil. The Devil keeps the turned portrait away from the audience as his eyes grow wide in fear. He promptly throws the picture back to its normal position. )

The Devil: (Loudly) Jesus Christ! (The Father begins to turn a shade of red as the devil stomps about the room, grimacing in as many different faces as he can. He sharply turns towards Father O'Robin.) (Even Louder) How do you get a Panda to do that!? Hmm? Or a better question. Was that even legal in the country it was filmed! Eww, God. (He's visibly shaken) You sir...(Poiting right at Father O'Robin)...You know, there's not even a word for you. But if there was, it'd be like, Crazyasstaperv. Or, Raptudgrossting! (Silence. They both calm down.)

Look, you get the idea. You're a freak. You define freak. You sir, are the lord of Freakdom, and the Fellowship of the Freak! (Silence)

You know what? You're coming to Hell with me now.

Father O'Robin: What? We had a deal!

The Devil: Yeah, I see to remember you trying to contest the deal. Where's mister contest things now? (Looks around the room.) That's not even the point anymore. I can't believe I was fool enough to let an idiot like you gallivant around for even longer. Spiking the comunion wine was one thing! And it was pretty funny when you cut holes in all Alter Boy's clothes. But all of it together? You wonder why I get blamed so much! (He punches the nearest wall. Pause. Looks at his other fist. Pause. Punches the wall with his other hand) Now get your things, we're going to Hell. And we're flying coach!

Father O'Robin: Lord Save me, what a terrible fate! Please, won't you reconsider?

The Devil: (Pause) Yes.

Father O'Robin: Oh thank goodness. (Pause. The two stand in silence.) Well? (Pleading eyes)

The Devil: You're still coming with me.

Father O'Robin: But I thought you'd reconsider!

The Devil: Yeah. I considered it all again. You're still a fucking loon. (He goes to grab the Father's hand)

Father O'Robin: Wait! (The Devil stops. Pause) Um?

The Devil: You asked me to wait (Beat. Motherly tone) Didn't those Nuns teach you anything about manners in school?

Father O'Robin: (Brushing it off) Look, anyways, I know you're a bit of a gambler. (Sly smile)

The Devil: Yeah...(Dryly) I'm a recovering addict. I go to meetings every week at the church just down the street. Why would you bring it up? (Pause. Silence) You're really a sadist fuck.

Father O'Robin: (Trying his best to keep on track) Never mind that, just listen to me. What if I were to propose a game to you?

The Devil: Would somebody be naked at the end?

Father O'Robin: (Annoyed) No...
The Devil: Then why do I care?

Father O'Robin: (Shouting) For God's sake, just listen to me you idiot. (Pause. Calmer) You and me, a friendly little game at that table right there, (He gestures.) If I win, I keep my soul and our transactions are through. If you win, you get my soul.

The Devil: (Sly) Sounds intriguing. So what will it be old man? A game of strategy and wit like Chess? Perhaps a game that involves a slight and nimble hand like Poker!

Father O'Robin: (Embarrassed) Well, all I have here is Candyland. (Pause)

The Devil: (Dryly) Candyland...

Father O'Robin: That's right.

The Devil: You mean the kid's game..(Beat)...with the candy themed board and characters? That Candyland?

Father O'Robin: I'm afraid so.

The Devil: And no one's getting naked?

Father O'Robin: Nope. (Pause)

The Devil: (Shrugging) Alright. (The Devil goes to pull up a chair to the Father's desk as the Father breaks out the board.) I have to warn you though, I never lose.

Father O'Robin: (Chuckle) I'd imagine...Could you...(He nudges his head towards the cluttered desk)

The Devil: Oh, of course. (He begins to clean papers and the like out of the way. The father lays down the board, fishing out any pieces he may need.) Say...(He picks up a large crystal ash tray.) This is nice.

Father O'Robin: Yep. Got it in Vegas. (Pause) Ah...to teach the poor...about...the dangers of..something. (Busily continues to set up)

The Devil: Feels pretty heavy.

Father O'Robin: Oh, it is.

The Devil: Opps. (He uses his free hand to point to the ground next to him.) Did you drop a piece?

Father O'Robin: Oh? Let me see. (He leans over the desk, peering down. The Devil quickly raises the heavy ashtray above his head and slams it down into the unsuspecting priest twice.)

The Devil: (Screaming) That's why I always win you stupid fuck! (Sigh) Woah, now there's some catharsis. (He grabs the body, pulling it over the desk and throwing it to floor at his feet.) Come on you fat son'uv'a'..(Catherine Enters)

Catherine: (Shocked) Father! (She runs to the side of O'Robin. Just as she looks up, the lights go dim again. One spotlight on The Devil.)

The Devil: (Aside. He walks forward on the stage.) What beauty is this now! Young, innocent, she has the air of life to her. Her eyes are like two deep reflecting pools, her hair like cascading curtains in a midnight breeze. Oh, her smell, her smell! (Pause) Actually, she kind'a smells like cat pee. I guess some Febreeze or something could get that out. (Pause) But I digress! Ohh, so lovely a creature should not tarnish her soul by being in the same room as me. (Turned towards her) But how I find you, like a star in the clearest night. What do I say, what do I say? (Lights return. The Devil moves back to his original position.

(Looking down her cleavage) Nice tits!

Catherine: (Getting up) What?

The Devil: Oh, I'm sorry. My PR guy keeps telling me about this. (Mockingly) "Don't call them tits, call them breasts. Don't call girls chicks. Don't slap them and say, 'Bitch, make me a sandwich.'" (Beat) So confusing, you know?

Catherine: Get out! Get out before I call the police!

The Devil: Usually girls wait until the second date for that option.

Catherine: Get out! (She charges at him, but misses. Before she can fall to the ground, The Devil catches her.)

The Devil: (In a fake souther accent.) Why my dear, I do believe you're falling for - (Catherine knees him in the crotch. He lets go of her, clutching at his balls.) Oh God, my nuts

Catherine: I know more moves if you don't leave! I took a class once.

The Devil: (Trying to regain composure, he bites his lip to mask the pain. Reaching into his coat pocket, he takes out a little black book and opens it.) Oh, I know my dear. (He limps towards the girl a bit.) It says so right here. Although you took that women's self-defense class to meet men. (Pause) Doesn't make much sense.

Catherine: The teacher was a man!

The Devil: Bullshit. The teacher was a eunuch.

Catherine: (Opens her mouth, but slowly closes it.) Wait, how did you know about the class.

The Devil: Oh, I know a lot of things my dear.. (He flips the page.)..Catherine. Huh, you know your last name rhymes with vagina?

Catherine: (She grabs the book) My last name is Willamson...

The Devil: Made you look!

Catherine: (She closely reads the book, seeing every little detail of her life in the tiny pages.) What is all this?

The Devil: Why my dear, that is your life right there.

Catherine: (Pause) Who are you? What were you doing to Father O'Robin.

The Devil: Oh, dear sweet...(Pause. He stretches to look at the book) Cattigon?

Catherine: Catherine..

The Devil: (Faux sly) Righttttt.... My dear Catherine. I am the Devil. (Pause)

Catherine: Yeah. (Beat) Are you another one of Father O'Robin's "Special dress-up friends?"

The Devil: Oh no, it's true. Just ask those people. (He points towards the audience.)

Catherine: (Pause) What people?

The Devil: Oh, right! (He claps his hands. Lights dim again and two spotlights now shine. One of Catherine and one on the devil)

Catherine: (Scared) Dear God! (She drops the book, but the Devil quickly scoops it up.) Who are those people?

The Devil: (Claps his hands again, the lights return to normal.) None of your concern.

Catherine: They were hideous!

The Devil: Now hush! (He flips through the book, quickly finding his page) Need more proof? (Reads aloud) ..."Catherine meets the Devil in Father O'Robin's rectory with an ashtray in hand..." (Pause) But why did you -

The Devil: Shhh, my dear. This book tells me all your little secrets. Every woe, every sorrow. You're life is like Sex in the City, printed on page! (Pause) Except, you know, it's actually entertaining.

Catherine: You watch Sex and the City?

The Devil: Only when the Golden Girls- (Beat) I mean...Anyways. Catherine, I can see you've been soul searching lately. You can't handle the dogmatic restraints that have been keeping you for so long. You need to be free, my dear. You need someone to show you a different pathway. All the truths are covered by lies when only perceived through mortal eyes. (Pause) That's actually pretty good. I should write that down.

Catherine: Seriously though, you watch Sex and the Ci...Never mind. (Pause) You can show me these things?

The Devil: My darling, I can show you things so large and pulsing that you'll( Beat, silence) Yeah, lets just go. Do you like Bagels? (The two chatter as they leave the room. Lights Dim. The Devil Re-enteres with a spotlight on him)

I wasn't being completely honest to you. I try to hide things, from everybody, so don't be offended. But I was just remembering some advice Doctor Phil gave me once. We usually trade back and forth. He gives me some advice, I keep him famous, very quid pro. Anywho, he always tells me, "If you can't be honest to the people watching you, how can you be honest to the person inside of you." Usually about that time he breaks out the banjo, but his message holds power none the less. (Pause. He grows more quiet) It's hard being me, you know? I make one stupid mistake with the higher power and BAM. Forced to rule hell for all eternity. Don't get me wrong, it's Prime Real-estate. Stalin just opened up his second Night Club and Ganymede's escort service is booming. (Beat) Strangely, Hitler owns a chain of Chinese take-out places. Kung-Führer ain't doing too hot as you might guess. (Pause. He rubs his forehead)

Sorry. Like I was saying, it's hard being me. Right off the bat you gotta' know I'm not responsible for everything. Sometimes, you people are just plain fucking stupid. Do you really need my help?

Still, I make my living only one way. And that's by taking the innocent and setting them astray. You've gotta' understand that I'm really peeved at God and I hold a grudge a long time. (Sigh)
Maybe it is stupid. Not like it makes me feel any better. (He begins to walk out) Oh, and about Catherine. You may be wondering what I'm going to do with her. We'll just see where the night takes us. (He winks. He exits. The spotlight fades. The lights come back on. The Devil runs back on stage and kicks Father O'Robin in the ribs one last time. Lights dim)

[Lucien]

Scene 2:

A dully lit tavern. Worn bar stools are in a row vertical the audience. A wisp of smoke is in the air, but it hangs more towards the ground, sunken to the floor like fog. The Devil sits at the bar, an Appletini firmly clenched between his fingers. He takes a sip, and then turns towards the audience. The soft ruffle of a pill container can be heard in his jacket pocket.

The Devil: (Aside. Coldly) Oh, you people again. You know you're almost as bad as that Doctor Faustus. Ever since that bastard cheated me he won't stop calling. Every time I pick up my phone I hear his heavy German accent breathing on the other end. (He takes another sip of his drink) Christ in Garters, you can almost smell the strudel.

(Warming up) Ah well. I guess you're all wondering why I'm here, or perhaps you're wondering what happened to Catherine. That's another story. A story that involves several retraining orders, a loss of pants, it was a big mess I shouldn't go into. Still, you all do deserve some explanation. (Another sip) Mmm.

Well, it started off as a lovely evening. We went to the Deli across the street. Turns out Catherine didn't inhiret the Father's zeal for anti-semitism, although naivety is not always what it's cracked up to be. Lets just say we got kicked out quickly when she wouldn't stop asking about the Blood of Christ on their hands. (He takes another sip. Trying to brush it aside) Still a sweet kid, but she insisted I meet her mother. All down the street she wouldn't stop asking questions about the meaning of life. In case you were wondering, you shouldn't. It's not that interesting at all. She found that out soon enough.

We get to her mothers place, and of course that bitch is a tad angry. (Mockingly) "Who is that? What do you mean he killed Father O'Robin? He's the devil!?" Blah blah blah. God, Catherine's mother was a downer. Oh, and I found out where that smell of cat pee came from. Jeez, it was like the woman was trying to fill some void. Mortals are weird like that. Masturbation would be so much easier, and you don't have to change anyone's cat litter! But try telling her that.

I think what really turned the evening into chaos was when her mother asked me what my intentions were with Catherine. Please, people, never answer honestly to that question. It only ends in tears, usually yours when you get a face full of mace. (beat) Maybe I shouldn't describe things in pornographic detail, but I thought her mother deserved a proper account.

Well, some insults were passed back and forth, a few heated moments, maybe a knife or two found someone's back a nice resting place. I can't remember everything. Although I will say this. Thank God for Dunkin Dounuts. Without it those cops would've been on my ass faster than a dog in heat. (Pause. He swivilles in his chair a little)

I rented a small motel room on the outskirts of town. A shady little place with more than one kind of bodily fluid in the bed sheets. It was a dateline special waiting to happen. Under-aged Korean whores in room six, over-aged French whores in room eight. Room seven was privy to all the noises of a poorly planned documentary on the mating habits of drunken geese.


Catherine didn't find the place too romantic, but she stayed with me a little while longer. Her curious mind hungry for any secrets I could give to her. (Pause) She left me when I told her the truth about God. (He turns back to the bar, the lights grow a bit brighter. There is a young woman working the bar.)

God: (Smiling) So what'll it be?

The Devil: (He almost falls off his stool) God Almighty! (Clutching at his heart) What are you doing here?

God: News travels fast up in Heaven. Sounds like you could use a friendly ear.

The Devil: (Snidely) Where can I find one of those?

God: At the Gentlemen's House of Sodomy down the street, you fag. (Beat) But if you need some advice, I'm here now.

The Devil: (Unsure) Don't you need to work?

God: Nah, the boss'll understand. C'mon, there's a table over there. (The devil walks over to the spare table, as God tries to follow, a voice offstage is heard.)

("Where do you think you're going?" God flicks her wrists. Choking his heard, followed by a loud thud.) What do you know, Break time. (The two sit down in the uncomfortable chairs at the small table.)

The Devil: So what are you doing on Earth, anyways?

God: Had to appear in a bag of chips in Argentina. Any press is good press.

The Devil: You were always on the look out for good publicity.

God: I took so much heat for Sodom and Gomorrah, yet everyone remembers me because of that. (Chuckle. Pause)

So what's been going on down south?

The Devil: Day in and day out, same old things. Except, you know, we don't have a sun to tell days.

God: I was going to put one in, but contractors got so expensive in the last millenia.

The Devil: It's fine. We've got plenty of heat. Surprising, JFK's hot air keeps us swimming in it.

God: What about this girl trouble you've been having? (Beat) I remember the days when you had a thousand different virgins screaming your name as they rubbed themselves with crucifixes.

The Devil: (Soft laughter) That was an eventful Christmas.

God: How can one girl cause you so much grief? (Pause)

The Devil: She was different, you know? There was something special about her.

God: The smell of cat pee?

The Devil: (Dismissive) No no, not just that. There was just ...(His cellphone rings. He quickly reaches into his coat pocket to answer it.) Excuse me. (Pressing button.) Yellow...Yellow?...Wait a minute....Faustus, I know it's you!...Answer me you stupid....(Pause. He closes the cellphone) God I hate him.

God: I can tell you your problem.

The Devil: Oh?

God: You're a bitch.

The Devil: (Annoyed) Excuse me?

God: You've become a whiney little bitch.

The Devil: Eve didn't seem to think so, you know, when I was tempting all of man kind to sin.

God: What was that? Three thousand years ago? You know I only made mankind to kill the dinosaurs.

The Devil: You're point?

God: (Pause) How can I put this politely? (Beat) You've become the guy in every Jennifer Aniston movie. I mean, look at yourself. And what's that? (She points to his neck, with a strange mark on it.) Did you Tattoo her name on your neck?

The Devil: Only her pet name...

God: Me Damn it. Are you cutting yourself too?

The Devil: I am perfectly cruel and insensitive, just like I was when you created me. I will not stand here and be ridiculed for false assumptions on my part. (He slams his fists on the table) Out of his sleeves come rolling two pill bottles. God quickly snatches them up.)

God: Is this Prozak? Is this Viagra?

The Devil: (Almost before she can finish) It's Heroin! In special pill form, all the rage in France. (Beat) Yep...just go ask a Frenchman...(Beat) Look, there's one behind you. (Pause)

(Shouting) Stop looking at me!

God: Jesus Lucifer, calm the fuck down.

The Devil: How can I be calm under your accusing eyes? Tell me that one! (The lights Dim again.)

(Aside) But she was right. Despite the combat boots and a bull dyke haircut even Rosie O'Donnell herself would envy, she was right on all accounts.

God: I can hear you, you know.

The Devil: Shit. (Lights return to normal. Sobbing a little) I don't know what's wrong with me.

God: That you're a puss-

The Devil: I know that! I meant why, why me? (Beat) Is there something in the water?

God: You change with the times, just like any good little conformist in faux rebellious skin.

The Devil: What do you mean?

God: Turn on the news any day of the week and I can garuentee you'll see at least three stories about puppies being born. Everyone's getting in touch with their feelings these days, you're just feeling the affect of it.

The Devil: So this is your fault?

God: (Laughing) Hey, Doctor Phil's your domain. I created Oprah. (Pause)

The Devil: (Trying to regain composure) What am I going to do? (Pause) I want to be like my old self again, you know?

God: For now? Handle your problems like a real man.

The Devil: Talking about my feelings?

God: No, Vodka

The Devil: Ah. (Pause) But what about for the future? What can I do then?

God: You need to help change the world. Make it a more brutal, harsh place. Where men are men and the weak ones are used for quick slap and tickle before a lynching. Bring it back to times where Chick Flicks were the kind that ended without a woman getting beaten.

The Devil: Why would you want that?

God: The worse off the times, the more people come crying to me. Why else would I keep you around; your charming wit?

The Devil: Sounds like something you would want.

God: (Gets up, smiling) You get better now. Have a good one, Lucy. (Lights fade, leaving only a spotlight on The Devil)

The Devil: (Aside) I wonder why I ever hated her? Vodka was good advice, but I knew there was only one thing that could cheer me up right now. (Spotlight fades)

[Lucien]

Scene 3

Set back in Father O'Robin's office, now it looks a little more empty. Catherine scurries about, trying to clean any debris left on the desk. Her back turned to the door, she can't see The Devil enter from behind.

Catherine: (Hearing him) Sister Agnus, I know I'm not done yet. I know you told me to keep this room clean an hour ago. And I know you wanted me to do it in that bikini to punish me for me lack of modesty, but gosh darn it, I just - (She turns, seeing the smiling Devil. Strangely) You.

The Devil: Yes. (Beat) Me. (Beat) The Devil that is.

Catherine: What are you doing here?

The Devil: Can I answer that in a series of philosophical speeches all the masturbation of my self-esteem? (Pause) Alright, I guess an "I just dropped in" will have to suffice.

Catherine: You really shouldn't be here, you know.

The Devil: (Cool) Catherine, I know many things and where I should be and when is one of them. Now, if you're trying to say some harm will befall me here, that better be a threat you can back up. Otherwise, keeping quiet is the best idea you could have. (Pause)

Catherine: I just thought that after last night, you'd stop trying to see me.

The Devil: And there was your problem. You thought. You assumed. You know what happens when you assume? You make an ass out of you and I. Or something to that effect.

Catherine: (Dismissive) Why are you here? (She continues her work)

The Devil: To see you, love.

Catherine: You saw enough of me. (Pause) I believe the obsessive chatter about whether or not I shave (beat) Down there, was more than enough for me

The Devil: Now Catherine dear, don't be like that.

Catherine: (Turning to face him. Noticeably angry) Why shouldn't I act like this? Tempted by a fool who goes about beating and murdering everyone I've ever known. And when I ask him the meaning of life he gives me nothing? When I ask about God, I get fed lies?

The Devil: What did you want to hear? To be one with God was your purpose? She's a rather uncaring person, despite popular opinion. Also a mean drunk.

Catherine: Please, just leave me -

The Devil: (Walking right up to her) I can't accept that.

Catherine: Don't make me...

The Devil: What are you going to do? (Silence) That's what I thought. (Sweetly) Please, Catherine, just listen. Your life is your own. You make a choice each time you try anything. I can show you more choices to make, perhaps the ultimate choice in the end.

Catherine: What choice is that? (Pause) Hmm?

The Devil: One of the few ultimates in life is sex.

Catherine: (Shyly) You come here to offer me that? (Beat. More anger) Why shouldn't I take that at face value as an insult.

The Devil: When, in all of recorded history, have I done anything at face value?

Catherine: (Slowly considering it) No, I can't. (Pause) I can't give myself to you like that.

The Devil: But what's stopping your Catherine? Society? Didn't you want to break from that? (Pause) I can show you whole new worlds. It's not just about the carnal when you make such a pact. Knowledge comes with this experience.

Catherine: But (Beat) you're evil. Learning something from you is one thing, but such a step.

The Devil: How are my bed and wealth of knowledge unrelated? (Catherine stops moving) How am I evil? All you'd do is accept what comes natural and what feels good. Preventing pleasure seems to me the true evil in all this.

Catherine: (Silence) Sister Agnus says...

The Devil: Sister Agnus' breasts sag down to her knees. The last relationship she had was with God, and when you're married to God, the sex isn't great.

Catherine: (Quietly) I still can't believe that God is a woman.

The Devil: Believe what you like. But, I garuntee that a lot more straight men will read the bible now that they know the truth behind it. I mean, the virgin Mary's first experience? Looks like Bethlehem had a college. (He laughs)

Catherine: I still don't know. With Father O'Robin in the hospital, facing all those charges, I'm not sure if I could leave the church now. It's been my life. I've come here for years. I remember as a little girl, Daddy would take me all through the pews on his shoulders.

The Devil: You miss your father a lot.

Catherine: He was never as much of a zealot as my mother. Also never referred to my breasts as dirty pillows. (Pause)

The Devil: Would he want you to spend the rest of your life serving a church you question? A church whose fallen leader led such a disgusting life? (Silence) Catherine?

Catherine: I don't think so. (Beat Can we...(beat) Do you think we can ask him?

The Devil: What do you men?

Catherine: Now that he's dead..

The Devil: (Pause. Trying to think it over) Oh, honey! You think he's in Hell? Sorry, but Hell's for the A-List assholes and dickwads. Your dad's probably in that vanilla of places, Heaven.

Catherine: (Somber) He wasn't a good man, not to other people.

The Devil: Morality's graded on a curve. He was a good enough man. (Pause) No offense. (He bites his lip at the word, trying to remember to stay firm and cool)

Catherine: I loved him. I think he would want something more for me.

The Devil: (Nodding) Indeed.

Catherine: But how do I know what you have is more for me?

The Devil: You have only one way to find out.

Catherine: (Unsure) I guess. But what about Sister Agnus? She's counting on me.

The Devil: That dear woman's time is up. She's old. Before we spoke, she suffered a mild heart attack (Coughing to cover words) to the face (He stops coughing) and went peacefully, albeit a tad gruesomely.

Catherine: From a heart attack?

The Devil: Lets not dwell on how she went, or what the bat was used for. Lets just keep her in mind as we live our lives day to day. (Closes his eyes and mumbles a soft, inaudible prayer) Are you ready?

Catherine: Yes. But where are we going? Not that motel room again I hope.

The Devil: (Laughing) No no.

Catherine: (Sighing) Good. Because those bed sheets smelt like death.

The Devil: (Serious) Catherine, that wasn't Death. It was...(Silence. She looks at him with wide eyes.) No, it was death. Still, we're going to my place.

Catherine: Hell?

The Devil: Prime land my dear. (Pause. Silence.)

Catherine: So when are we going. Does the teleportation just happen?

The Devil: I was actually waiting for you to get me a phone. We need to call a cab.

Catherine: (Lights fade as she talks) Oh, yes. Right this way.

The Devil: (Aside) All's well that ends well. (Pause)

Too bad we're not ending yet. It's hard to wear this mask, tough, telling inferiors to silence themselves. You come off as a real jackass, guilt ridden sweat runs down your forehead. (Sigh) I bet your asking the person next to yourself, "Is he going to take her as his wife?"," Is this true love?", "Why does his ass look so good in those pants?" Very intelligent questions if I may be so bold.

The climax is coming in more ways than one. Amazing. (Pause)

Oh, and don't fret about the viagra. Turns out that boy from Seventh Heaven's legal, and that helps out loads. (Spotlight fades)

[AdventWings]

Dang, what a satire. :p

I'm a Christian, that I will say, and this cracks me up. An interesting portrayal laced with deep philosophical digression. Pretty OK for most parts...

The Devil's first lines in Scene 1 were a tad overdone, methinks. That's my only gripe here. I don't really know how you can reiterate that, though, so I don't think I'll be of much help. :p

Good luck, Nya~

[Lucien]

Scene 4

A sparsely furnished bedroom. Red, blue and black are the dominating colors. The walls are covered with posters from the 80s. There is no view, only moving red curtains in a breeze that seems to come from no where. Catherine sits, half dressed, on the bed. Near a mirror, The Devil fixes his collared shirt, buttoning it back up. The lights fade.)

The Devil: (Aside) You know, I'm pretty sure you're getting sick of talking to me. Truth be told, you're not the most wonderfully entertaining people yourselves. 'Specially you, right there, in the front row. (Looking at one audience member) Yeah, the fat one. God I hate you.

(Brushing it off) Anywho, I'm sure that from this scene you can tell what happened. Half naked girl in my bed, sweaty hair, messy blankets. It really doesn't take Columbo to figure this all out, though, surprisingly, he lives right down the street. 'Least I think it's him. (Pause, he looks confused)

To stay on track, I'm sure you're all wondering how she was. Well, a gentleman never tells. (Pause)

Too bad I'm not a gentleman. She was okay, I guess. Not the best, not the worst. I can only say that she was as good as one could expect any virgin to be, when having sex with Satan. I'm sure you can all picture that scenario in your heads, right? There were some screams, a few moans, maybe an inclination to stop, maybe some moaning screams to stop. It all passed me so quickly, like trying to run after a bus you just missed.

(He walks over, to sit next to her on the bed.) She's beautiful, isn't she? A lovely little vision whose innocence I just took. What an impassioned two minutes. (Pause) Look, I just got off viagra, what do you expect? (Lights brighten)

So how was it for you? (He gets back up to finish fixing himself up.)

Catherine: It felt good.

The Devil: That's a pretty vague explanation. Felt good how? Like eating an entire tub of ice cream after a bomb of a date? Like riding a horse bareback through the open plains. (Pause) Like riding the horse's rider bareback through the open plains?

Catherine: What?

The Devil: (Quieter) Oh, nothing. (Normal tone) Still, Specifics are the spice of life.

Catherine: I liked it. (Pause) I don't have much of a point of reference.

The Devil: Oh come now, you've got to have something that relates to this? We've all experimented in our younger days. (Pause. She looks at him.) And in my case, every day.


Catherine: I guess it just feels like when I was a girl, you know? Feeling something for the first time.

The Devil: (Smiling) Sounds fun.

Catherine: How was I? (Pause, The devil almost drops a comb) Hmm?

The Devil: Oh...you...

Catherine: Yes. (beat) me.

The Devil: Do you want the truth? Or a sweet lie to make you feel better?

Catherine: (Playfully) Oh you. (She throws a nearby pillow in jest, but hits his counter and knocks over an expensive glass bottle.) Sorry. (Pause) It looked cheap anyways.

The Devil: Yeah, relics from Pompeii usually are. (Silence)

Catherine: I said sorry.

The Devil: (Absently) I know you did dear.

Catherine: (Breaking the awkwardness) You know, my mother always said this would be the worst moment of my life. She use to tell me the day I give up my virginity, I give up my womanhood and my identity. Only a loving marriage sanctioned by our savior could prevent it. (Pause) Isn't that funny.

The Devil: (Faux) Yes, amusing. (The phone rings, Catherine goes to pick it up.) Don't answer that!

Catherine: What's wrong?

The Devil: Nothing, just. (beat) nothing.

Catherine: (Pause) Well, I think it was great. (Pause) Thank you. (Beat) Thank you for showing it to me. Not just this, but (beat) everything.

The Devil: (The lights dim again. Aside) And now comes the moment I was dreading more than anything else. How can I do what I'm about to do and still look at myself in the mirror. (He notices the vodka bottle on his desk. Takes a nice drink and puts it back down.)

(Coldly) That's how.

Well Catherine, I think it's time for you to go.

Catherine: (Tired) Hmm?

The Devil: Well, you've sort've over stayed your welcome her.

Catherine: (Worried) What are you talking about?

The Devil: Oh, Come off it Catherine. We've had a little fun. It wasn't the most fun I could have on a friday afternoon, but it was fun none the less. I can't wait to tell some of my buddies about this.

Catherine: No..

The Devil: Like that face you made. Ha! (Laughs and makes a funny, twisted face) It looked like you were opening a jar of pickles.

Catherine: Please stop.

The Devil: Stop what? I'm only stating the truth.

Catherine: Why are you doing this?

The Devil: Can I help it if I'm honest?

Catherine: (She gets up, using the sheet to cover her body.) No.

The Devil: Look, it's been nice, but it's time for you to go.

Catherine: (Silence) But (Beat) We made love.

The Devil: (For a second, he looks serious. Then, he bursts out in laughter) Haha, God. We made love! Oh, yes. Now that's funny.

Catherine: (Softly) But...

The Devil: No my dear, I believe it's time for you to go. I've already called you a cab.

Catherine: You can't...


The Devil: I am. Please leave. (Catherine stops looking at him, and quickly dresses staring only at the ground.) A little faster, will you? I have a date tonight.

Catherine: (Finishing) You are a heartless bastard. (She runs off stage, still half dressed. A door is heard slamming.)

The Devil: (Calls out to her) Don't forget to tell your friends! They can join you next time! (Jovial) Ah, what a lovely girl.)

(Aside. The spotlight isn't as bright) I wish I still had my Prozac. (He walks over to the counter, taking another swig from the bottle of vodka) If this is how real men solve their problems, then my hat's off to them.

(Somber) Did you see the look on her face when she left? Those tears of fear, confusion, anger, betrayal. Like a waterfall of catharsis pouring down her face. She really did look hurt, didn't she? (Pause) Why am I asking you? Like anyone out there is going to respond back. (Pause, he walks over to his bed to sit down)

You know, the story about how I fell in the bible isn't exactly true. Sure, we were all jealous of man back in the olden days, who wouldn't be? So fragile, so moldable, basically, sheep that could talk. (Pause)

God needed a scapegoat. She makes a lot of mistakes that she doesn't want to admit. A lot of mistakes. One day, she just asked one of us angels if we wanted a new job. Hell, the pay sucked for us so I just thought I might as well. I've got crazy spooky kids worrshiping me as they go about murdering in small towns. Literature loves me. Go on, I dare you to try and find more modern books about God that don't feature me. (Pause)

I hurt her. (Beat) The vodka isn't helping. (silence)

I need my Prozac. (The phone begins to ring)

And I hate that fucker Faustus. (The phone rings again)

So much.

[Lucien]

Scene 5

The bar again. Only it seems more brightly lit. God and The Devil sit together at the same old table. Offstage laughter can be heard. God has a beer, the Devil has another Appletini.

God: She cried? (Laugh) That's something funny.

The Devil: (Trying to forget) She cried a lot. I could still hear her swearing as she got into the cab.

God: Poor kid.

The Devil: What do you mean?

God: She had to see you naked, and then that. Jesus that's got to suck.

The Devil: What's wrong with my body?

God: Nothing. (Pause) That's the problem.

Devil: (Changing the subject) You never did tell me how your visit with Mary went.

God: She's doing well. Well enough that is.

Devil: Are you sending her the checks?

God: (Pause) She has a job.

The Devil: You owe her a lot of money.

God: What's she going to do about it?

The Devil: Well, she was poking around Hell the other day for a good lawyer.

God: (Pause. Smiles) You jackass.

The Devil: I know, I know.

God: You really suck at lying, you know that?

The Devil: I guess it's the all the Prozac

God: (She drinks from the beer on her table) Or the Appletinis.

The Devil: Don't insult the appletini.

God: (Pause) So what now?

The Devil: I feel like a jackass for the rest of eternity. (Pause) But I continue taking medication.

God: And drinking.

The Devil: Yes, and drinking. (Pause)

God: Guess you should just wrap everything up with a cute little speech or something?

The Devil: (Lazily) What's the point?

God: Jesus, I'll do it.

(The lights dim, spotlight on God. She clears her throat.)

Um...bare with me. I'm not exactly sure how to do one of these. (She scratches her head for a moment.) I guess..(beat) If we spirits have offended...(beat) Well that's just too fucking bad. I'm God. (Scene ends)

[Iain]

Wow...

[Lucien]

Wow what? Wow scares me, almost as much as nuns.

[Iain]

Wow means it was real good, 'cept for some spelling errors like swivel and writing RP instead of PR.

[Lucien]

Most of those were typos. I had to type like a madman to finish that damn thing before the deadline.

Some of them aren't.

But hey, thanks for the feedback. Anything in particular you like?

[Iain]

I could be an ass and say I liked the dialogue.

Cuz I did. Sometimes the devil's words seemed far too premeditated to ever be normal conversation, but most of the time he and God were both very real in my mind. Definitely brings in an interesting perspective on religion...god as a girl? Satan as not totally evil? This really is food for thought.