The Word, Love: A stageplay

The Word, Love

(SAM enters the bedroom. She is dressed in a bear costume.)

SAM:

Honey, does this bear costume make me look fat?

MIKE:

No, honey. You look fab.

SAM:

FAT?!! It’s true, it DOES make me look fat!!! (Wails.)

MIKE:

No, no, honey, I said, “FAB”…!

SAM:

Oh, oh, I see. Oh… So, this bear costume, it doesn’t make me look fat?

MIKE:

Uh-uh, sweetheart. You’re a knockout!

[continued… click link to read rest]

NARRATOR:

(Steps out from offstage)

And so it went, day after day, Sam and Mike, insecure in their lovelives together, would seek out constant reassurance.

MIKE: (Enters the bedroom in a bear costume.)

Honey, does this bear costume make me look fat?

NARRATOR:

And finally, one day they admitted it to one another, and both were overjoyed….

NARRATOR 2:

(steps out of the shadows)

Not that overjoyed. More like mild relief.

NARRATOR:

No, I’d say it was overjoyment.

NARRATOR 2:

Whatever. Says you.

NARRATOR:

Well, mild relief doesn’t make much a story now, does it?

NARRATOR 2:

Who gives a shit about the story. These people are here to see something real, something everyday, something they can connect to.

NARRATOR:

“Something to which they can connect” you mean.

NARRATOR 2:

See, this is what I’m talking about. No one cares if a sentences ends on a preposition, and for good reason. You…

NARRATOR:

Look, if you go away, I will give you $20.

NARRATOR 2:

Sure!

(Narrator 1 gives Narrator 2 $20. Narrator 2 leaves.)

NARRATOR:

Okay, let’s get back to our story. Now Sam and Mike opened up a little and expressed their deepest fears, and were –overjoyed– to find they each had the same fears. A strong bond was formed…

SAM:

Oh Mike! Mike! It’s such a mild relief…

NARRATOR 2 (Backstage):

(triumphant laugh)

SAM:

to find out …

MIKE:

Yes! That we both have the same fears, about …

SAM & MIKE:

…. BEING UNATTRACTIVE!!!

(Both start laughing and hugging.)

NARRATOR:

(To himself) What? I’d say that’s overjoyment.

SAM:

Oh Mike, I’ve often wondered if you would still love me when I’m old and gray, withered like a prune.

MIKE:

Me too. I’ve wondered if you’d still love me when I’ve lost my rugged good looks.

SAM:

Well, to tell the truth, I don’t know. And it’s that not-knowing that frightens me.

MIKE:

I hear you. But there’s a solution to all this.

SAM:

Solution? Um, not that I’m not … but your solutions can be a bit strange sometimes, Mike…

MIKE:

I know this guy, he does make up for a film company. He’s a genius, it’s like magic what he can do. Let’s get him to come over and dress us up, put that Hollywood crap on us and make us look like our 90 year old selves-to-be!!!

SAM:

Then we’ll know for sure!!! Oh Sam! Usually your ideas are so stupid! But this is stupid-brilliant!!! Call him now!!!

NARRATOR:

And so Mike called his Hollywood make-up artist friend, Conrad, to come and make them look like 10 years older. (Conrad enters and begins applying make up to their faces.) A touch of grey here, a wrinkle there, and voila, a middle-aged couple appeared before their eyes!

SAM:

I feel so strange…

MIKE:

ME too.

SAM:

So, that’s what you’re going to look like, 10 years from now, age 45. Hm, not bad!

MIKE:

You’re pretty cute, with a wrinkle there and a dab of white in your hair. Sexy, I’d say even. Rowr!

SAM:

Welllll, I’d say I still love you.

MIKE:

And I love you still too, baby.

(They kiss, and fondle one another.)

SAM:

(Breaks the kiss.)

But love is forever! 45 is not that old. Conrad, make us 10 years older!!!

(Conrad make them 10 years older.)

NARRATOR:

On and on he slopped the goo, till their faces look aged and wrinkled to boot. Their hair turned grey, their eyes began to sag. Soon, in one quiet afternoon, they turned 90.

SAM:

Oh my, so this is what you look like at age 90? You’re… you’re … old.

MIKE:

Huh. Hm. You’re uh, kind of old too. 90? Wow.

(Silence. They peer at each other, thinking.)

SAM:

Well, I guess we still love each other, uh, right?

MIKE:

Uh, yeah, yeah. I could definitely say I still love you.

SAM:

Could?

MIKE:

Oh, I meant yeah, sure, for sure. But you still love me, right baby?

(SAM is silent.)

Right baby?

(SAM says nothing, can’t say it.)

SAM:

You don’t love me, I can tell!!!

MIKE:

Well, er, maayyybe there’s some ambivalence.

SAM:

Ambivalance! You son of a bitch! There’s no ambivalence in love!!! You either do or you don’t!

MIKE:

Oh, yeah, I see how it goes. Well how about you – you don’t love me, do you???

SAM:

Who cares?! Why should I love you if you don’t love me, you shallow superficial pig!!!

MIKE:

Well, I don’t love you either!!!  There, I said it! Are you happy now???

CONRAD:

Uh, maybe I should go. Besides, it looks like we’re near or close to the climax of the play.

SAM:

Oh, that’d be the first time I’d have a climax in his (gestures to Mike) presence.

MIKE:

(Hurt) Oh, you didn’t, you didn’t… Not in front of everyone, please… Let’s behave like mature adults.

(Silence. Lasts a bit longer than it should. Conrad has left. Narrator looks uneasy. He darts a nasty look at SAM and MIKE. They shrug their shoulders. NARRATOR looks panicky.)

NARRATOR:

Uh, excuse me for one moment. (Runs backstage).

NARRATOR (backstage):

Where did it go? What did you do with it???!!!

NARRATOR 2 (backstage):

WHAT are you talking about?!! Let me go!!!

NARRATOR (backstage):

The climax!!! What did you do with the climax??!!!! (Sounds of hitting and punching.)

NARRATOR 2 (backstage):

Ow! Ow! You crazy asshole, I didn’t do anything to your stupid climax!!! What the hell would I want with a climax, it’s just a stupid artifice leftover from Aristotle. Let me go!!!

NARRATOR (backstage):

You did this on purpose, didn’t you?!!! You and your stupid moralising about the everyday, the real-life. Just because I want to tell a story using conventional structure,   climax, denoument, doesn’t mean you can look down on me with your superior, snooty…

NARRATOR 2 (backstage):

LOOK! I DIDN’T touch your stupid climax!!! Who cares about a stupid…

NARRATOR (backstage):

Well, get out there and help me find it! I swear if there’s no climax in 5 minutes, you’re toast, you hear me?!??!!

NARRATOR 2:

All right, all right, already. Stupid … (mumbles under his breath.)

(NARRATOR 1 and NARRATOR 2 appear from backstage and begin hunting around the set for the climax, like hunting for lost keys.)

NARRATOR 2:

This is stupid, we’re never going to find it.  (utters something under his breath).

NARRATOR:

Shut up and keep looking.

(More time passes as they keep looking.)

NARRATOR:

(To SAM and MIKE)

Don’t just sit there, say something!!!!

MIKE:

Like what?

NARRATOR:

I don’t know, you’re the actors! You know, improvise???

SAM:

Whatever.

(Awkward silence.)

MIKE:

(Trying hard.) So, I guess we have till 90 then.

SAM:

Y-up.

(Awkward silence.)

MIKE:

But till then, I mean, it’s all good. If there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s that we’ve got at least 60 years. And we’ll probably die before then. I mean, look at the bright side.

SAM:

Asshole. I’m leaving.

(SAM walks offstage. MIKE looks dejected.)

NARRATOR:

(Brandishing something with his hand.)

I found it! I found it! Here it is. We can have the climax now, everyone get ready!!!

MIKE:

Psh. It’s a little pointless now, don’t you think. I’m gonna go get drunk. (To Narrator 2) You wanna come with me?

NARRATOR 2:

(To Narrator) THIS is why storytelling is stupid. (To Mike) Yeah, let’s go. You like Bourbon? (They exit.)

(Narrator is left onstage by himself. Curtain.)