Talking Fridge Door

Busy sidewalk in Old City during fringe. Hole in
fridge door with butt-ugly talking head sticking
out of it (actor with grotesque make-up). Coin
slot in door next to head with sign. YO MAMA SO
FAT Jokes for a quarter!

Five divas in vicinity of talking fridge door.
They are all vogue-ing nonstop but the photo
poses all have their right hands frozen into an
imitation of a gun (thumb up, index finger
pointing out).

Paparazzi photoflashes at every new pose. At
each new vogue Butt Ugly says in mocking voice

"I'm the mommy, that's why."

Whenever the audience drops a quarter into slot
Butt Ugly recites a new YO MAMA SO FAT joke. Each
joke elicits a special "vomit pose" from the
divas; the imitation gun of the diva's right hand
becomes her real finger again about to go down
into her bulimic throat.

Poster of spoof-ad for Calvin Klein OBSESSION for sale nearby


Butt Ugly actor should have at least twenty-five
YO MAMA SO FAT jokes in repertory so there are no
repetitions to the revolving street audience.
Edit from long list available on web (someone
could hold cue cards).

If the piece is done in theatre instead of the
street, quarters could be given out to audience
to encourage interaction. Here's three YO MAMA's
(53 nano words worth, that might be more than
enough inside the theatre.)

"Yo mama so fat she left the house in high heels
and when she came back she had on flip flops. ."

"Yo mama so fat she put on some BVD's and by the
time they reached her waist they spelled out

"Yo mama so fat the animals at the zoo feed her."

Nanoplay—Hazel Zooblebretz from Chill

(A +B sitting on the couch)

Are you getting up?


You. Can you get me something from the fridge?

I wasn’t getting up.

Oh. (Pause) Well, when you do, will you bring me the

I’m not getting up.

(Long Pause)

You’re sleeping with Ted, aren’t you?

NOTE: Ideally this would be repeated over and over
with different actors asking for different things from
the fridge. (not unlike repeated scenes in some of
Chuck Mee’s work) May work as a connector between
scenes—mentioning something from the scene before or
after etc.

Examples of objects: Frost-free dressing, heads, hand
grenades etc—works especially well if it’s an object
used in the next scene.

Nano play from Phil Hopkins
I mean Astrophel S. Stein. My stage name is Phil Hopkins

Delete any lines you want.

Got the contract?

No, dude.

Well, that's bad.


I'm afraid he's pissed.

Who, Ari? He's not pissed.

He definitely is, Hecker. And he's gonna let out the dude.

What dude?

The small venomous dude.

Not that dude. Seriously? That dude?

Yea, his agent says the dude comes out whenever he's pissed.

What happens then?

People get stung.

That sucks.

Yea, real bad. Arms swell up. Fall off.

You know, that was my nickname.

You had a nickname? Your name's Hecker, you don't need a nickname. You've got a funky nickname come heck or high water. Heh.

In college my nickname was One Armed Man.

As in you were crippled or as in you were packing heat?


I see.

Dude, Dmitry, there he is.

What, dude?

The little dude.

What is he?

Don't you see it?

No, do you?

Yea, he's right there.

Where is he, dude?

He's right there, near the thing. See him?

No, I don't! Is he coming at me?

No, dude. But Ari must be pissed.


His tail is up.


No the little dude!

Is he gonna sting us?

I don't know. But he's not happy.

Let's make him happy.


Show him the contract.

I don't have the contract.


Hecker pulls out crumpled paper and shows him the contract.

He says clause eight has been violated. No refrigerator or chilling device in the backstage area, or on the stage itself.

Was that in there before?

Dude watch out this thing could get ugly. The management has called for a fridge here, to keep things from blowing up.

Too fucking late dude. Just be happy you didn't get this dude up in your grill.

For real.


(aristophanes says we were all double in the beginning.
there were three options.

option #1: Male-Male connected back to back
Option #2: Male-Female connected back to back
Option #3: Female-Female connected back to back

that controlling EGO-centric-look-at-how-big-my-lightning-bolts-are God, Zeus separated us so that we wouldn't be strong
enough to climb out of Olympus.

now we spend the rest of our lives searching for our
other half, our soulmate, love, someone to complete
us, our partner in crime...

stephan is not searching? he may be complete.
he may be truly sexless. no need. he is above and
beyond and patient for truth within the DUDE


The word pronounced "dude" (although with a bit more "dh" at the
beginning) in Hindi means "milk" in English.


Here's some fodder for CRITIC or ART PANEL NANOPLAY of two frat boys' South Philly story with bracketing exegesis on "dude." The same could be done with any dude nanoplay. Critic could be stage whispering during dialogue preparing audience for the dude, or stop action and explain the dude, or interject loudly an explanation at every dude, etc.

DUDE is an address term that is used mostly by young men to address other young men; however, its use has expanded so that it is now used as a general address term for a group (same or mixed gender), and by and to women. Dude is developing into a discourse marker that need not identify an addressee, but more generally encodes the speaker's stance to his or her current addressee(s). The term is used mainly in situations in which a speaker takes a stance of solidarity or camaraderie, but crucially in a nonchalant, not-too-enthusiastic manner. Dude indexes a stance of effortlessness (or laziness, depending on the perspective of the hearer), largely because of its origins in the "surfer" and
"druggie" subcultures in which such stances are valued. The reason young men use this term is
precisely that dude indexes this stance of cool solidarity. Such a stance is especially valuable for
young men as they navigate cultural Discourses of young masculinity,1 which simultaneously
demand masculine solidarity, strict heterosexuality, and non-conformity.

I have identified at least five specific interactional functions for dude. Almost all of its functions overlap and derive from its indexicalities of cool solidarity and laid-back masculinity, although these indexicalities are employed in different ways depending on the function. These functions also show how dude encapsulates the men's homosociality, i.e., the small zone of "safe" solidarity between camaraderie and intimacy.

These functions include 1) marking discourse structure; 2) exclamation; 3) confrontational stance mitigation; 4) marking affiliation and connection; and 5) signaling agreement:

· Discourse structure marking: An individual use of dude may indicate some discourse structure, as described below, although a cool solidarity stance is simultaneously indexed when dude is used in this way.
· Exclamation. Dude may be used on its own as an exclamation, to express both positive and negative reactions (commonly with another exclamative, especially whoa).
· Confrontational stance attenuator. Dude is often used when the speaker is taking a confrontational or "one-up" stance to the addressee. Through its indexing of solidarity, dude can attenuate or ameliorate the confrontation, signaling that the competitive or hierarchical aspect of the utterance is not serious. In Philadelphia there were many instances of this kind of use, especially in woman-woman situations. This use is as a positive politeness strategy in situations of negative face threat, in the terms of politeness theory.
· Affiliation and connection. When dude is used as a true address term (i.e., it identifies the addressee), it is used to indicate a stance of affiliation or connection, but with cool solidarity as well.
· Agreement. Dude is commonly used when a stance of agreement is taken (either sympathizing with something addressee said, or agreeing with the content of the utterance). As with the affiliation and connection function, when sympathy or agreement is expressed and dude is used, this sympathetic stance retains a measure of cool.

These functions are not all mutually exclusive; dude can perform more than one function in a single utterance, or left ambiguous. Some examples of each of the functions in use will help us to understand how speakers use this term in particular situations, and how its indexicalities work in these situations.

The first example, in which dude is used in its discourse-structure-marking function, is a narrative told by Pete at the end of a meeting of fraternity members In this excerpt, Pete is telling about a road trip that he and Hotdog had taken during the previous weekend, in which they got lost. (This excerpt is not the entire narrative, which is very long and has numerous points which might be counted as evaluation and/or climax.)


6 Pete: I was like fuck it just take this road we'll be there.
7 end up,
8 at one o'clock in the morning,
9 in south Philly.
10 I don't know if any y'all been at south Philly,
11 but it ain't where you wanna be at one o'clock in the morning
12 Hotdog: it's it's the northeast of Washington DC
13 Pete: it is it's the southeast of Philadelphia
14 that's what it is.
15 I mean it's southeast
16 dude.
17 we're driving a 94 Geo Prism (.) with no tags, (1.1)
18 two White boys,
19 and we're like stuck behind this bus
20 at one point,
21 we were stuck in an alley,
22 in an alley like cars parked on both sides, (.)
23 behind a bus,
24 and there's like two bars
25 like on both sides.
26 like (1.0) all these black people everywhere.
27 wasted.
28 fucked up.
29 lookin at us.
30 *just like*
31 I was scared shitless,
32 I 'as like Hotdog go.
33 he was like there's a bus.
34 I don't care go go (0.7)
35 most nerve-racking time of my life.

Pete's use of dude in line 16 marks off an important segment of the narrative, a part in which he tells about the 'danger' he and Hotdog were in. In lines 6-9 he is setting up their arrival in South Philadelphia. In lines 10-15, he describes in general that South Philly is dangerous, with help from Hotdog in line 12, who explains the status of South Philadelphia by relating it to a similar neighborhood in Washington, D.C., with which his audience is familiar. He has some disfluency getting exactly the form he is looking for, and then in line 16 utters dude, with a complete intonation contour that has a falling intonation. Dude thus serves to break off the string of disfluencies from the following utterances, which Pete "resets" by giving it more volume and beginning with a higher pitch. The utterances following dude then resume his evocation of danger more specifically, and the climax of this part of the story comes in lines 26-29, in which he describes the 'dangerous' people around them, and then an evaluation in line 31 (I was scared shitless). In this example, dude is not picking out a single addressee: Pete is addressing the entire meeting. Rather, dude has two functions related to the narrative structure and purpose. First, it delays the climax and resets the narrative, calling attention to the climax and evaluation to come. In this sense it is a discourse marker rather than an address term. So why does Pete use dude here, and not something more "discourse-focused" like so or anyway, which are sometimes used to return to the main thread of a conversation or narrative once it has been left? The answer is that dude also retains its indexicality of cool solidarity, and allows Pete to bring the audience into his story as if he were telling it to one person rather than many. Moreover, it invites the hearers to take Pete's perspective, thus further creating a separation between himself and the dangerous denizens of South Philly. Pete uses dude to build involvement.

Later in the story, before Hotdog begins to co-narrate, Pete again uses dude:


40 Pete: [dude it was like boys in the hood man ai:n't no: lie:
41 Hotdog: [And they're all they're fucked up on crack, wasted
42 they're all lookin' at us they start comin' to the car,
43 so Pete's like FLOOR IT.
44 so I take off (.) and (.)

In this instance, Pete is using dude with an exclamatory function. But notice that the statement that follows is also a summary and evaluation of the situation he and Hotdog found themselves in, and continues the same involved, affiliative stance he used in the previous excerpt. We can make this conclusion based on his concurrent use of Southern vernacular language forms in ain't no lie, and the address term man, which is similar to dude but less pervasive in this group.


dude is suburban phenomena-- ( so is the full fridgey) i heard no
dude while growin up here in bklyn.... dude means dud.


Dude Ranch: paying guests pretending to be cowboys for a week at a "working" ranch. These resorts are popular out here in the West.


Yes, and don't forget the defininition of to get "all duded up". We are "duding up" the fridges, no?

Let's not let slip by the idea of the fridges talking that someone wrote (sorry, I don't know who's who/ I need a chart). The fridges could be the diva alter egos, just during the diva divan. Some really mundane drama happens in a loop on the couch, while the fridges deconcstruct constinuously as the art panel, the critic, the historian


There is a conversation I have frequently had with my brother and sister (the former of whom currently lives in Philly, the latter who used to, and was a reporter for the Philly Gay News) that Philadelphia has the best of what we call "dude-dudes" in the entire country. You know the type: the reverse-mullet that's shaved on the sides but long on top, often held in a pony tail; the moustache or goatee; the eastern Pennsylvania/South Jersey accent; the vague recollection of Hulk Hogan one has when around them. There are varieties of dude-dude everywhere, in Jersey, the edges of the boroughs, the guys in the south and midwest blasting Rush and Zeppelin from their refurbished camaros, the Los Angeles eccentrics obsessed with obscure classic-rock figures, the San Francisco meth-heads. I can go on.

Nanoplay from Julia/Aphasia of Alibaba/Bed

Darkness. An arctic wind blows. Lugubrious cello music. Lights rise slowly, revealing a bleak fridgescape. Lights hold for a moment, then grow dim again.

Pinspot on FRIDGE #1, a freezer-on-top model. If possible, the freezer door opens and closes when it speaks, marionette-like. If this isn't feasible, the pinspot pulses with each syllable. The same is true for the all the fridges but FRIDGE #4, which is a freezer-on-bottom model and speaks out its ass.)

(my anal stage directions can be ignored and the whole thing can be deconstructed. Single lines can be abstracted and inserted during pauses in the piece, like entr(expletive deleted)actes.)

FRIDGE #1: I'm cold.

(Pinspot fades down on FRIDGE #1, fades up on FRIDGE #2.)

FRIDGE #2: I'm --

(FRIDGE #2 coughs a dreadful, hacking cough. Smoke billows out from the freezer compartment, which is filled with dry ice.)

FRIDGE #2 (cont'd): -- I'm tired of running.

(Pinspot down on FRIDGE #2, up on FRIDGE #3, a mini-fridge.)

FRIDGE #3: (child's voice, whimpering) I don't have anything to eat. I'm hungry.

(Pinspot down on FRIDGE #3, up on FRIDGE #4, the freezer-on-bottom model. The freezer door rumbles on its hinges. FRIDGE #4 releases a wet, whining fart.)

FRIDGE #4: (basso profundo) Lactose-free, my ass.

(Pinspot down on FRIDGE #4, up on FRIDGE #5, whose door does not open.)

FRIDGE #5: (muffled, but loud) Help! I can't breathe!

(Pinspot stays up on FRIDGE #5. Another, brighter light comes up on FRIDGE #6, the newest and cleanest of them all, giving it a beatific, saintly air.)

FRIDGE #6: My inner light always shines bright, even when no one is looking!

(Add pinspot on FRIDGE #4)

FRIDGE #4: Waste of energy.

FRIDGE #5: (muffled) I can't breathe!

(Add pinspot on FRIDGE #2)

FRIDGE #2: (coughing smoke) Tell me about it.

FRIDGE #6: I keep produce crisp and fresh!

(Add pinspot on FRIDGE #3)

FRIDGE #3: Please feed me. I'm so hungry.

FRIDGE #5: (muffled, weak) Help me. Please. Help!

(Add pinspot on FRIDGE #1)

FRIDGE #1: I'm so cold.

FRIDGE #6: I'm frost-free!

(FRIDGE #5's motor rattles, then dies. Its light goes out. Long pause, then all the lights begin to fade. Silence.)

FRIDGE #6: I feel so empty sometimes.



There is a comfort in boys like all products
Please do not
They believe me to be
I will give you
A monster but I am
An administrator and I love my boys
They do not jam or
Miss Fire
He bargained,
No joy but the spreadsheet tallying those released through the clear sky
into the unforgiving mouth of the Pacific
What should we do with him
Boys ask
Nod my head and a symphony saturates the mountain air

Anthan Cornette's attempt at a Nanoplay

A Gaudi text?

Simply awake. Born, then lived a little, then awake here on this couch, waiting. Waiting. Winning people over. Yes, I win people over. With my soft breath, I hardly make a sound. With my instruments I play air bubbles. I look like I might be able to argue, but with forever fierce beauty. Never smelling sickly. Never nodding off. Awake.

Ah, but who has this heart-holder's heart? It is the humming refrigerator in the kitchen, the kitchen for which I would have to leave this come-hither couch, this perch, to seek and find. And yet I recline.

By rising and pursuing, my breeziness would be lost. My lackaday that fosters lust would be lost.

Ice, ice give me some ice. Bring it to me. Bring it to me now, please?! Ice makes me steam! I'm being serious. And yet no-one ever thinks to bring me something from the refrigerator. They think I'm above it all. NO! I need you give me ice and get the fuck away. Oh now I'm being tempestuous but maybe you expected that. Maybe you like to hear me swear. Because it doesn't sound crude coming out of these lips, does it? It sounds like fire. Well then, I'm not going to endulge you. No no. You won't hear me get excited again.

What if I spit? Then would you bring me some ice, or even a cold beverage? Oh, you would bring me a cold beverage now, wouldn't you? But you probably wouldn't think to bring me cheese. No, you'd think, somehow doesn't work with this picture. Well, screw you, I want cheese!

Oh shit, now I'm sad. Oh God. I'm an alcoholic. Yes, this young, and I'm already an alcoholic. Also, I have IBS. Not helped by the alcohol. So I can't stay on this couch for all that long, really, when it comes down to it. I'll need to leave any minute now to head for the bathroom. Ha ha! You think, she's been shitting me all along, so to speak. Because of course I go to the kitchen -- of course I go to the fridge. You just caught me in a weird moment. Just sitting here on this couch. I usually never even sit on this thing. It's actually not comfortable at all. I really have to go to the bathroom.

I wish I lived in water, with no furniture at all. Oh god -- nothing to go to at all. No destinations. No rooms, no appliances. Just water. And the sound of whales. Whale shit, all around. I'm serious. Shit and water mix and become what you live in. There is no separation.

Can you feel it combine? Can you feel it?

nano/morgiana/slow rider

A: Denotation.

B (sighs): What's the word?

A: Ah . . .

(uses a computer)

Here's one. Refrigerator.

B: What? Say it again.

A: Refrigerator.

B: I don't like this game.

A: Don't be such a fuddy-duddy.

B: I am not. Spell it.

A: R E F R I G E R A T O R

B: Means something casual? (This line can change for each refrigerator)

A: No.

B (exasperated): Clues.

(“A” becomes refrigerator one)

B: Do it again.

(“A” becomes refrigerator one)

B: I have it! It means totality and against division. But the disease has entered. It is subtle.


B: I have it! It means a wall, after all. And there is no need to feel hurt.

(Ideally there is a different definition for each of the twelve refrigerators)


Prop: Computerized Encyclopedia © 4010

common oh, oh common - maya nulexe nanoplay

David: Woman and man tend to each other.James: Yes.David: Why woman and man tend to each other?James: because they are different.David: Yes, they differ, it's true.James: Oh, that much. By every part. They are totally differentbeings! Otherwise they couldn'tattracted to.David: That's why they tend to each other?James: Yes, it is.David: It means they lust for things that's differ, right?James: Of course.David: But why gay people are attracted to each other?James: Because they are different from others.David: But they are the same in themselves?!James: Yeah…David: And you know, gay boy should be attracted by gay girl! Isn'tit? And gay woman by gay man…James: ha-ha! ha-ha!David: Yes, gay man must be with gay woman.James: hum... Then what's the difference, it would come out as thesame thing, yes? Ah yes, it would be the same!

another nano from maya nulexe

A Theater Text

Characters: Man and Woman.

Part 1
Man, sleeping. Woman , watching man. Man moves a little. Woman, scared, pretends to look for something, as if she weren't watching Man at all.
Part 2
Man goes to sleep again. Woman is watching again. Man moves. Woman runs away.
Part 3
Man is reading the newspaper. He hears Woman coming. He makes a pose as if he is sleeping. When Woman enters, he pretends to be asleep.
Part 4
Woman and man , sleeping together.
Sometimes they change sides, turning from left to right simultaneously.



A Performed Installation

Characters: Man and Woman
Materials: Another Woman

Part 1
Man and Woman enter, bearing Another Woman. They set
her down, arranging her just so, then slip away,

Part 2
Another Woman allows her breath to move through its
inherent inhaling and exhaling pattern. As the breath
finds its way through the open channels of her body,
her mind does so as well, interweaving with her
breath. As her mind relaxes, her tongue and palette
become spacious, the roof of her mouth lifts and
hollows and the central core of her body opens. Once
the central core has been completely opened, the pose
is held for the duration of a small death.



(The action unfolds in a cold room. A device, among several devices, is playing music. The music is interrupted.)

Picture the inert body of someone you don't know, someone beautiful. Life is gone. Pain gone. Awareness, sensation, desire, pleasure all gone. Take a moment or ten to mourn an imagined loss, an imagined person. Gone. Set that person aside, away. There is the body, then, the fleshly embodiment of all that is absent. It is, as I say, a beautiful body, grey, and

Flesh as a thing, as stuff. Like the table beneath it. Like clothing--the body is wearing clothes. But don't touch it.

Touch the table. The body is close. Touching the table is almost like touching the body. You know the warmth and textures of a living lover, but now you are touching the table. You linger over the feel of the table. Here is the body, right here.

Bend closer, your face close to the other face. It is difficult to separate a face from the person who lived behind it. So you imagine that person. You look into that face, see the person ... mourn the loss. That person is gone. The face is hollow. Composed flesh.
Quiet, beautiful.

Perhaps the hands interest you. Spend time with the hands, as you did with the face. Don't touch.

Stand back from the table, consider the corpse. You should feel ready to remove the clothes. A good, large, sharp pair of scissors will be needed.

You are going to disrobe the body without touching it. Pluck fabric away from flesh and cut. Be patient.

Your cuts should be clean and straight, opening up the layers so that they fall symmetrically to either side of the body, cutting up the center of the torso, finding and cutting center lines on the arms and legs. Feel the cloth beneath your fingers as you cut. There is flesh in that cloth, unseen traces of flesh. Feel the flesh in that cloth, and know that you have become
a shade more intimate to that flesh.

Remove the shoes, carefully. Cut off the socks.

There is the body, lying on the bed of its clothing. Don't touch it.

Bend closer to the body. Exposed to the air, the body is now free to exchange molecules with the air. You bend close enough to feel the exchange, to feel the body without touching it.

The body is in the air. You know that in the course of time the body would fill the air. You imagine the air, thick with that beautiful body.

Step back from the table. The room is quiet. The light is natural, but indirect. You are alone with the body, in a hidden place, away from all intrusions. You touch yourself.

For now, the body exists only to be seen. You study it, admire it. You feel a growing desire to touch it. You touch yourself. It's not enough. Slowly, you remove your own clothing. You touch yourself. It's good. It's not enough.

But you cannot touch the body, not yet. In the room, there is a cold water shower, in a metal stall. Soap, a scrub cloth, a clean white towel. You clean yourself. You scrub vigorously, then dry yourself completely.

You approach the body, shivering slightly. Your hair is damp, and you wait for it to dry.

You touch the body lightly, the texture of your fingertips grazing across the texture of the body. It's a fresh body, not too far removed from its living state, or so you imagine. Hair, lips, earlobes, nipples yielding to the slightest pressure. Fingers retain elasticity. You find and touch scars. You glide across fine hairs.

You touch yourself. Fresh from your scrub, you search for equivalent textures, seeking fleshly kinship. It's there.

But beneath the surface of your kindred flesh you feel stirrings. In side of you, amidst so much stillness, you sense a riot. The heartbeat, and the rush of blood. The hum of synaptic traffic. The life inside of you feels like a growing flame next to this beautiful corpse. You are both naked, but you are not alike.

You are opposite. You feel the chasm, between the inertness of the body before you and the intense flush within your own flesh. Standing there, vertical facing horizontal, touching the body, you feel the imbalance, and it's like nothing else you've ever felt, and it's unbearable.

You hold that moment in suspension, and then, suddenly the spell breaks. You take the weight of the cold body into your arms. You lift it, awkwardly pulling the bed of clothing out from under it and casting it aside. You climb up onto the table and lie with the body, holding it, wrestling it, getting as close as you physically can short of merging. You are urgent and trembling, but not violent. You caress, you suck,

you leave saliva all over your partner's flesh. You enter the body with tongue, with fingers, with face, with all of yourself. You squeeze, and you hump, and grunt and sigh, spreading as much of yourself as possible onto and into your counterpart.

And you receive the body's coldness. And you feel the deadness of its weight, its inarticulate poses, its silence. And, in time, it exhausts you.

You become still. You have an awareness of lying there, close to your partner, drained of most of what you'd felt. Holding your partner you feel, too, some glimmer of yourself having passed on to that body, now a little less composed, a little damp, a slight bit warmer.

The distance between you has closed a bit. It is bearable, lying there, like that, alone together.

(Burst of static. Silence.)

--Oscar Zamora Zamora

micro-nano play by Alex Mendra

we begin:

Total blackness. A small speck of light can be seen in the distance, growing larger and slightly brighter as the light moves nearer. As it gets closer, the silhouette of a woman can be seen. She is the light, or more exactly, she is wearing a headlamp on her forehead. Out of breath, she stops center stage.

(Breathing hard)Did they find us? Hello? Where are you?(She rummages around looking for something and trips over a over a large object. Her headlamp reveals
it’s a body.) There you are. (the body is also wearing a headlamp, and she clicks it on. The light shines straight up, revealing that the body is laying on its back.) Have you heard from them? I woke up so early, had no clue what time or day we were in. And then I heard the
noise again. The same one from last night, only farther away. Like people mumbling into a cardboard tube, incessant, never clear enough to make any sense. (pauses, as if listening to a sound, though none is there)There it is. See, I told you it was real. Last night you wouldn’t believe me. You think I’m slipping away, loosing it like the others. It’s coming from over there. (She moves the head of the body to light the right of stage.

Scene 2
The sun has started to rise, red-orange light on a desert landscape. The woman from the previous scene is sitting crossed-legged in front of a small cairn of stones. Her headlamp is off. The body is revealed to be that of another woman, close in age and likeness to
the seated one. The body’s headlamp is still it and facing stage right.

(placing another stone atop the cairn.)
The frequency is off, that’s the problem. We need to be ready when they call again.(Finishes the cairn and stands.)There. That should clear up the reception. Are you going to lay there all morning. The sun is almost up. (overly cheery)Rise and shine, time to shake off those sleepy-head blues.(gently shakes the shoulders of her companion.)Come on sweetie, get up and make it happen.(She straightens the head of the body and gives it a soft kiss. Releasing the head, it flops over to the side again.)

Scene 3
Late afternoon. Desert. The woman/body from the previous scene is standing alone.

Marie! Where are you?! Marie, goddam it! Don’t do this to me! I asked you to wait. Please come back. Don’t leave me here alone. You know what that does to my head. Those voices, they're not real. Don’t follow them, please! We need to stick together. Like we agreed. I know what you’re thinking. you think if I don’t believe, then what came become of us. I can’t help it. How much more proof do you need. I can’t believe in something that I know can’t be. Don’t you understand? Just because we see it differently,
doesn’t mean we can’t get through this thing. Can you hear me, Marie?

MARIE ENTERS and stands directly in front of the WOMAN. The stare at each other for several seconds, then MARIE EXITS.

Scene 4
Twilight. The body is on the ground, lamp lit and pointing stage right. MARIE, headlamp lit, squats over the cairn of stones.

You’re like a child. I asked you not to do that, and what is the very next thing you do? It’s like I talk and talk, and you, the silent wall, earless, heartless, plunge forward and do the one thing that will totally piss me off. Are you getting any of this? The next time I ask you to listen, will you PLEASE listen. I hate when you make me this way. Do you think I enjoy having to dress you down? Remember that trip we took last year to Santa Fe? The hotel we stayed in and the clerk wouldn’t change our room to non-smoking. You were perfectly willing to put up with the stench of the room, and I was the one who had to convince them that if they didn’t move us, we’d totally freak about the smell. That was a fun trip, wasn’t it. Even with the stench of age old smoke and grime.(gently strokes her forehead and clicks her lamp off.) Get some sleep, sweetie.



A church
We pass the hat, and open the items and offer them

Take three times daily, two after speaking, three after reconsidering, and seventy four after
apologizing, rephrasing, or dribbling. Accept with wine or food, distinguish only between serving vessels, not brands, generics, contents, or hosts. Transmogrified souls best kept at thirty three degrees above sea level. Double dose if stung.

A design studio. Couches.
We wear the items

I'm in Donna Karan. Is she in pain? I'm absolutely buried in Moschino, and flies are everywhere. Who are you wearing? Helmut Lang. Does he miss his skin? Yes, that suits you, and pants you naturally, or he'd feel ripped off. Where is your wardrobe, that festival of cold colors? Are these dead duds, dude? Are we out of date, fringed in decayed accoutrement? Has-been habiliments? Gone get ups? Did you draw that or just throw up on the model between binges?

A swinging door above linoleum.
We speak the names of the items to ourselves as we lift them, laughing

Ridiculous empires of the dead wrapped in quotations. Lost magnets pull violent pleasure for every missing. Each couched in this epigrammatic emtpy. Recline in frosty climes, ready to be lifted, set to be steamed, fresh to be fresh again and again.

Lunch at a law office
We eat stuff, as contracturally obligated

A and B on couch or in any setting, really, doing
anything, really, realistically or stylistically, in a
fridge, on a chair, in a box with a fox, etc.

You hear about the kid?

What kid?

They picked him up in the street along with a whole
lot of other people. Something happened, I guess near
there so they grab a bunch of people nearby. Kid's
maybe five or six. You know, he's a kid. He's in the


They bring him back and they lock him in this fridge.
And they got the dial jacked up so it's almost like a


Kid starts pounding his head against the fridge door,
trying to get out. Just really bashing his head, you


When they found him, he was blue--head cracked open.


And the thing was, they all kind of assumed he was

But they still--



NOTE: If I had my way, this would be 2/3 or 3/4 of
the way into the show after something funny. (if it
makes it in to the show, that is)



mouse-cheese-man enters partially hungry.

mouse-cheese-man: how much?
man: what?
mcm: the picture of fridge?
man: two.
mcm: two?
man: two hundred.
mcm: I'll think about it!
man: we're open till 6.


man and woman sitting on a park bench.
mouse-cheese-man approaches.
some onlookers beside.

mouse-cheese-man: happy couple! (smiles somehow brightly).
looks everybody waits for answer.

man: happy man!
mouse-cheese-man leaves in despair.


man and woman hardly got a job to share.
mouse-cheese-man has one for himself, but not happy.

mouse-cheese-man: one job is not enough! one job is not enough!
man: take two.

norton's nano

they're yelling ralfie boy. screaming in the bathroom. it echoes around in the hole. when it gets to us down in the sewer we make out some words. maybe a few words.
bastard. why. who. shit. fuck. oww. please. yes. no. stop. what. blam. blam. heard
blam blam lotsa times. plenty of names. the yelling. can deal with that. screams. a fun
house. the fun house ride at coney. but when they whisper. those whispers. like a
knife shoved in the back of my head. the whispers got a hiss to `em. like metal
punching a hole in the back of my head.


norton at the table in the circle of fridges, ralf walking around, animated.

i got the sprilkers something like that, mrs finkelstein the jewish lady on the second
floor called it sprilkers. i can't stop myself norton can't sit still calm down. hopping
around like a flea. antsy. it's different around here do you see it feel it. look at the the
light for crissake. you know the light on this fridge in this fridge not like yesterday.
sorry you can't say it's the same light. slammin the door shut. hear it. the set. this
place. where we live... uh uh uh uh uh... hear me nort i'm stud stud stud studderin'.
bad sign. b b b b bad sign.

keep it together ralfie boy.

danny, danny the writer. i asked him for the new sides the new lines and he looks at
me straight in the eyes what he say i'll tell you what he says he says nothing you hear
me he says not a thing.

did you look him in the eyes.

yes. i looked him in the eyes.

never look the writer in the eyes.

i'll i'll whuh whuh whuh huhbah huhbah hubuh huhbah huhbuh huhbah siss boom

strike up the band.

strike up the strike up the... then he says to make make it up improvise you're going
to do that anyway you're going to throw out most of what i write anyway. then he
walks off. i'm telling him wait a minute and he walks off.

you do make it up.

make it up. make it up. i've got to live in the words you know that-- it's got to live.
he writes the word then i got to make them live. you want me to die up here die up
here when we're live.
sings, "live a little, you got to live a little
got to live a little to die a little."
what does that mean.

don't sing that song.

the guy putting on my make up on stan. i said all right stan hit me. take the shine
down a few, you know stan the forehead the nose. do me up. he just stares at me.
stares at me and shakes his head.
what do they know. what. you know something. tell me if you know something.

norton sits at table makes noises stares at the fridge.

good o.k. do you're doing the sitting down staring thing be depressed sit there just
sit there.
i need you norton my friend and you just sit. take a breather. go somewhere and swirl

norton makes noises. stares at the fridge.

all right all right so if it's canceled if we're off the air o.k. it isn't the end of the world
not the only things i do only thing i can do.

norton make noises sits there.

plenty of things lined up put stuff away with my talent...

norton gets up goes to the fridge and picks up an egg.

throws egg.

ralf catches the egg. throws egg.


norton catches the egg.


ralf misses the egg it splats on his shirt.

whu whuh whuh whuh. hubah hubbuh hubbuh.

ralf goes to the fridge picks up an egg and winds up elaborately throws the egg it hits
norton in the head.

they look at each other. the eggs drips. they shake and grab each other around the
they sing.
"you gotta live a little gotta die a little
cry a little and laugh."
they laugh.
repeat song.


i'm worried about him. something's not right.

o alice. o alice.

something is wrong.

o alice. o alice.


i ask myself all the time where does it come from where does it go.

the sewer.

no it doesn't.

then it's all right here in this room.


i'm worried about her. something's not right.


something is wrong.



i ask myself all the time where does it come from where does it go.

the sewer.

i don't think so.

then it's all right here in this room.


i just care about the laughs. got to start my day funny.
trixie. she can laugh. i get out of bed go to the toilet
in my pajamas. trixie's got a smile on her face.
drink some water. watch. see see. it's the adam's apple.
it wiggles even goes side to side. the noise.
i want you to know i never try to make a noise.
trixie's fallin out of the bed by this time.
i'm ready all right


i been fat all my life norton and it hasn't stopped me for one minute.
better get out of my way because i'm coming through.

what'll i do about it. what.

flowers. flowers.

flowers. o.k. i'll buy flowers.

what am i going to do. it's the same thing every day.

alice doesn't love me anymore. i'll tell you that.


fake nano for alice, trixie, ralf and norton

did you ever feel like what you're saying isn't even your own words.
like someone else made them up. did you ever want to be someone else.
disappear and start over.


loud laugh track plays.

look there were lots of them. talent all over the place.
funny. any night of the week i'd go there and piss myself.
every one of them a card. a full deck. not one act like
any other act. they got up and you said yeah i'm going
to watch this guy that gal do their thing. do what only they do.
nowadays. nowadays. they're fakes all of them.
they don't know about doing it themselves.
they may start off that way with a spark. a difference.
soon enough they're done finished. trying out the
same old stuff. they look different. their bodies are different.
but that's it. same laughs same jokes same tired shit.
take that laugh track off the air and they're done for.

loud laugh track plays.


Critic: Guns are nothing but art; art is nothing but guns, so tell me what?

o.a.: Trust me.

Psychologist: How did you become free to realize yourself in a way which does not depend on the approval of any outside agency?

o.a.: Never crossed my mind.

Walmart Shopper: Have you've ever used one of them to shoot a circle in a tree?

o.a.: Yep, of course. Who hasn't?


DENEY stands at the front entrance of a Wal-Mart, working as a greeter.

Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
Me? I been better.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today? I found out I¹m rotting from the inside, the state of Colorado going to take the only thing is this world I love away from me, I had to take this job because after years of trying I finally got to be a manager trainee but only if I go live in the one place in the world I can¹t go, so now I¹m stuck standing in this
one spot making a dollar an hour less than when I started eight years ago, also I got this maniac ex-husband who may be in jail, maybe he still be drinking and drugging and killing people, maybe be dead, though I know he harder to kill than a cockroach. But I can¹t complain. I like standing here saying hello to all you nice people. I mean that sincerely.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today? You see, sometimes I be watching stand-up comedy on television, I¹m a godly woman but I still got my sense of humor, I like Chris Rock, Bernie Mac, what¹s his name, Cedric the Entertainer. And I don¹t like it when they talk dirty, but sometimes they make jokes about ³crack whores,² and I got to laugh along with everybody else, but deep inside me there a small part that wince just a little, because I used to be one of them. Crack whores.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
I¹m very different now. It¹s been a long time since I felt the touch of a man, except Jesus. But back when I was with Karfee, most of the time I wasn¹t feeling nothing. Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today? I must a been pregnant with Janelle two, three month and I was still using. Not a day goes by that I don¹t thank God for that healthy child I got. I was in jail for a DUI when I found out about her. Oh yeah, I¹m sure she Karfee baby. Sometimes I see a little bit a him in her. That frightens me when that happen.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
I wasn¹t in jail that long but it was long enough to think about what I done, to think about the teeth fell out a my head. Most of them I got fixed. I said to God, God, please save this baby, and God said,

I¹ll see what I can do about that Deney, but you got to pull your weight too.

Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
When I got out, Karfee offered me some rock, but I said not so much as a Newport. I went back to my church. Karfee still had cash, though, and that be the worst drug of all. Plus I loved the man, God help me.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
I don¹t know if he ever believed Janelle was his baby. Maybe he did but he just was cruel in that black heart a his, because one day I was out shopping -- at the Wal-Mart¹s, actually -- and Karfee and his friends thought it would be a funny idea to balance Janelle on top a the old Amana refrigerator we used to have and put her toys and baby bottles and things on her and shoot them off with his .45.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
I got home and Janelle crying, crying, like nothing I ever heard. There be bullet holes in the walls, new ones, Janelle still got burn marks in her stomach. Thank God that all she got.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today? For the next five years I been keeping one step ahead a Karfee, living all up and down the Delta, with friends, cousins. Relatives. Always Karfee come knocking at the back door, or sitting in his car across the street, staring. Waiting. Sometimes I invited him in.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
I kept running, he kept following. I knew that the only thing I could do is go somewhere where nobody knew Karfee or me. I didn¹t tell nobody where I went, nobody knew except for the pastor who gave me the address of Minister Ron¹s church, right here in Fort Collins, Colorado. I bought a car with all the rest a the money I had, plus some I took from Karfee last time I seen him, God forgive me, and I drove all night. Karfee face looming at me from the edge of the darkness on that highway.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
And then I got this job. I love this place, I really do. I get all my shopping done here, food and medicine, clothes for Janelle and here, I got this here blouse at this very store, get my car worked on. I like that there¹s a place for a poor woman to buy nice things for herself and her family. I praise God for Sam Walton all the time.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
But I am just about at the end a my rope. They say they a Christian company, but just like me with Karfee money they addicted to the fruit a Mammon. They say Wal-Mart¹s cares about the individual and maybe they do care about some individuals. But not this individual.
Hello, welcome to Wal-Mart¹s. How you doing today?
I¹m going to do something about it. They got something called the open door policy here, they got a 800 number you call if you got a problem you can¹t talk to the manager about. And I am of the mind that I can¹t talk to Harold about nothing. I¹m going to see just how they like it down in Bentonville when they hear about how Todd and Harold be treating their associates.

This is more from that same play, but less contextual:


THE VISION appears before DENEY and KELLY.

A parable:
There were things that I knew about all of the disciples that usually made prophecy largely unnecessary. For example, Judas. If you are in a group like the group that we were, and you want to know who is the most likely to betray you, not just abandon you or get sick of you but actively stab you in the back: look for the truest of the true believers, the most passionate, the one who takes himself and his mission (or herself and her mission) the most seriously. This is the person who will do anything, commit any crime, even seemingly betray that mission in his (or her) single-minded zeal to carry it out. And sometimes they turn
out to have been right. Quite often, actually. And then there was poor Peter, the one I said would betray me three times before the cock crowed? Actually what I said was that he would betray me at least three times, over the course of the next few days. I think it turned out to be like seven or eight denials altogether. Too bad I don¹t gamble, ha ha. Anyway, he was utterly convinced that he wouldn¹t deny me. I know he genuinely loved me but I also knew he would do just that, in part because he was so unlike Judas. You never, ever know who you are, what you¹ll do, who you can betray until you¹re on the wrong end of that Roman sword or whatever. And you know what? That¹s okay.


THE VISION appears before DENEY and KELLY.

A parable:
You know what was one of the hardest things I had to do? Not the whole--
(puts himself in a Œcrucifix¹ position, quickly, as if it is awkward for him) --thing, you know, though that was certainly no picnic. It was walking into Temple that time and casting the money-changers out. See, at the time that I did that, no one thought there was anything wrong with what they were doing. It was like if you went into Toys ³R² Us and cast out all the toys. Or you know what it was like, it was like when that Yippie fellow, Abbie Hoffman, tossed one-dollar bills onto the floor of the New York Stock Exchange and everything went haywire. But not intended to be funny. I thought he was terribly amusing, Abbie Hoffman. Anyway, since I was a boy, all I could remember was that money-changers were always at Temple, back then we would go to one place for everything. You could worship, politick, bank, buy, sell, trade, get your wheel fixed. It was very convenient. But there was this very powerful feeling that what we were doing, overturning the tables, shouting, bringing not peace but swords and so forth, was very, very not okay. And everything out of everything I was afraid of, the mob, the Saducees, the Pharisees, Roman soldiers, Hebrew soldiers (and let me tell you, I was utterly terrified of all of them), the most difficult thing to overcome was this intangible, inexplicable feeling that what we did was somehow impossible, like we had decided to defy the law of gravity as an act of civil disobedience. Even though the only injury to anyone at all that day was Samuel breaking his pinkie toe when a table fell on it, it felt as if we were committing an act of unspeakable violence. And in a way, we were doing just that: an act of violence against a common, agreed-upon reality that we, as a group, refused to accept, because we thought maybe we had some better ideas.
We argued about it for weeks, but in the end we did it anyway. And you know
what? It was awesome.