New plays, short, one-acts

The Lottery Winner by John F.X. Delaney: A down-and-out man is tempted to sell his soul by a seductive temptress. Will he lose it or find it again?

WOMAN: (enters--sensuous, worldly, other worldly, and sits on a stool next to man.) May I buy you a drink?

MAN: (He is surprised and looks around the room to see if she is really talking to him.) You, wanna buy me, a drink? Okay, and which one are you?

WOMAN: Which what?

MAN: I kinda figured my guardian angel would be a dude, so you must be Lady Luck.

WOMAN: Well I’m no angel. I’m Randy.

MAN: I certainly hope so.

WOMAN: That’s my name…Randy.

Priming the Pump by Jean Klein: a 4-character comedy which parodies over-the-top talk shows. A distraught woman is put on the spot with surprising consequences.

BURT: How would you like me to help you?

GRACE: I’m not sure. I just don’t want to be tired anymore.

BURT: We can all understand that. (winking at audience) He beat you, right?

GRACE: He wanted to. I never let it get that far.

BURT: Oh. (pause) But he humiliated you. Pushed you down the stairs.

GRACE: Yes, he did that. That’s how I lost the baby.

BURT: Now, that’s better, Grace. That’s the kind of truth we’re after here. The kind that helps you fight for your life. Right, audience? FIGHT FOR LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!

An American Tragedy by Shari Graber: O'Henry's story about two woman married to very different men gets a facelift in this adaptation.

MAGGIE: My husband wouldn’t ever think of doing that to me.

MAME: I wouldn’t have a man who didn’t beat me up at least once a week (admiring in the mirror, turns back to Maggie) Shows he thinks something of you. Say! But that last dose Jack gave me wasn’t no homeopathic one. I can see stars yet. But he’ll be the sweetest man in town for the rest of the week to make up for it. This eye is good for at least theater tickets and that leather coat I been eying.

MAGGIE: I should hope so.(enviously) That Mr. Fink is too much of a gentleman to ever raise his hand against me,

MAME: Oh go on Maggie! (laughing and applying salve to her eye and lip) Your old man is too lame and slow to ever give you a punch. He just sits down and practices physical culture with that newspaper when he gets home…now ain’t that the truth of it?

Inside and Out by Jean Klein: A mother struggles to communicate with her autistic son.

As lights rise, Jonah, the boy, is lying in a fetal position. Jonah, the mind, is sitting off in the corner. (In one reading this part was effectively played by a woman.) Although he speaks Jonah's thoughts with great vocal expression, his face remains expressionless throughout.

MIND: Three is an infinity of plums. Seven defines the universe. Eleven is blue with lightning. Thirteen follows . . .

MOTHER: ( Offstage in a whisper.) Jonah?

MIND: Stop! Seventeen’s falling fast. . . Catch it. Now . . .

MOTHER: Jonah? (JONAH grunts.)

MIND: nnLoud, loud, don't you know how loud . . . (MOTHER enters holding laptop and touches Jonah gently on the shoulder.}

MOTHER: (singing) Hush little baby you're not to blame, One day you'll look when I call your name.

Finals by Jean Klein: Two students discover a dead professor in his classroom and begin to learn what he's been trying to teach them.

FRANKLIN: Okay, you’ve had your fun. I’m gonna wake him up before you get us both in trouble. (FRANKLIN taps JONAS on the shoulder.)

MATT: Oh, shit, you always ruin everything. What you got against trouble, anyway?

FRANKLIN: ( taps him on the shoulder again.) He’s not moving. (pause) I don’t think he’s breathing.

MATT: Look, I didn’t do nothing to him.

FRANKLIN: I didn’t say you did. But this man’s gone.

MATT: Don’t tell me we gotta give him CPR!

Going to the Dogs by Pam Steadman Going to the Dogs concerns an older sassy and brassy elitist and an aging bohemian vegan coming to grips with life in a 55+ retirement Mecca of Discontent. *“Irving,” a family dog, returns as deceased husband, Len, in this dark yet ridiculous comedy of lost desires, regrets, and reincarnation!

SYLVIA: (to Irving) Speak, dammit! Tell Diane who you REALLY are! You want in on the conversation? Then bring it on, Len! Come on…I dare ya!

(Diane’s jaw drops and her hand goes over her heart in awe at what she is seeing and hearing. She now grabs the bottle of wine and is swigging it)

IRVING: Ya should have seen Syl when we eloped during the war. Best broad, mother and grandmother I ever run across.

SYLVIA: Will you please stop referring to me as “grandmother?”

IRVING : What the hell would you call yourself then? We’ve got eleven grandkids for crisake!

DIANE : (Staring down at the dog and backing away) OH MY GOD! Len…is that you?

A Taxing Experience by Harriet Schley: Two women learn something about each other as they conflict in a last-minute showdown as April 15 draws near.

LL: I know, I go through this every year. Well, here’s my two W-2s and here’s my last pay stub from the other job.

HB: Oh, they didn’t give you a W-2?

LL: No, they’re out of business. But all the information is on the pay stub.

HB: Ma’am, I know what is on there.

LL: Look, just call me Lulu. Everybody does, from my two names, Louisa Lewis, get it? Lord knows what my parents were thinking of.

HB: OK, Lulu. I can certainly do this return. I’ll have to do a substitute W-2 for that third job. But we won’t be able to file it now.

LL: Why not? I need the money tonight.

HB: We can’t file returns with the 4852 until after February 15.

LL: So what’s a 4852?

HB: That’s the substitute W-2 form.

LL: Helen, stop throwing numbers at me. I need you to throw a check at me. Tonight.

A Slippery Slope by P, A, Wray: A report on the habits of the Layson Albatross go awry as a teacher at a conservative private school tries to mediate between two dueling students.

MISS JOHNSON: Davy, it’s not like you to cut in front of others.

DAVY: Well, I think it would be good for me to go next. My report is on the Laysan too, and - -

MISS JOHNSON: - - Davy, I told the class I didn’t want any duplicate reports; I wanted something different from each of you.

DAVY: Believe me, mine’s different.

MISS JOHNSON: If it’s only going to be a slight variation of Beth’s,

I don’t - -

DAVY: - - It’s not a slight variation.

MISS JOHNSON: Davy, I should just make you do another report on another seabird.

DAVY: But my report is different from Beth’s; much different.

MISS JOHNSON: How different could it be?

DAVY: Well, at least a third of the Laysan are Lesbians; Beth didn’t report that, did she?

BETH: (shouting from her seat) Oh, gross, the Laysan are not Lesbians! I didn’t read anything about that, Miss Johnson; how could he say - -

Cell by Bonnie Culver:

Technology confounds communications among four four inter-related people.

SHEILA: I promised Michael we’d get out from under any expenses on Mom’s house. You did list it?

LISA: (Quietly) Of . . . course.

SHEILA: (Not believing her) Lisa, did you list the house?

LISA: Yes.

SHEILA: With whom?

LISA: Century 21…..(Lying) With a . . . . Jeffrey Dahmer.

SHEILA: You listed Mom’s house with a serial killer?

LISA: No . . . well . . .

SHEILA: Meanwhile, we’re paying on the mortgage. Did you do at least do what Aunt Dorie told you?

LISA: (Squirming) No . . . that sounded too hokey.

SHEILA: St. Joseph is not hokey. It works, Lisa. We sold two houses that way. In three days.

LISA: But burying somebody in the back yard? Don’t you think…'

Christmas in Montana by Nikos Vlachos: Students in a one-room schoolhouse confront political correctness

at Christmas time.

SWEET PEA: But it’s cold out there, and Fred’ll freeze and break into little pieces.

MISS RUGAMYER: Then put Fred inside the door for now. I just want him out of my classroom. Anymore weapons? (SWEET PEA exits, then returns.)

HANK: Just our pocket-knives, but those ain’t…I mean aren’t weapons, Miss Rugamyer.

MISS RUGAMYER: Okay, then keep the pocket-knives in your pockets. Now that we’ve cleared this up, let’s rehearse some songs for the upcoming Christmas Program. We have only two weeks to prepare. (CYNTHIA raises her hand.) I understand some of you will be playing instruments and others will be singing or doing both? Yes, Cynthia?

CYNTHIA: Ms Merker-Chavez said that we should be politically correct and call it a Holiday Season Program; not a Christmas Program.

The Trunk Show by Jeannette C, George An allegory for Easter of those left behind after the cross. Three women examine the contents of an old attic and trunk., items left to them and reminisce of their childhood.

CLAIRE:(Speaking to audience) This play is an allegory. I wanted you to know that first off. Allegories are made up of simple stories that mean deeper things. Knowing that this is an allegory you might enjoy finding the inner meanings of our “on the surface” simple story. Don’t try to figure out what everything means. (Moves to trunk, sits beside it, pauses then takes out a ring of keys) In our story many things have special meaning. That’s an allegory. (Calling downstairs) Laurel! Bring those other keys. I don’t think mine will open this. Laurel!

LAUREL:I heard you. What other keys?

CLAIRE:There’s a stack of them on the kitchen sink.

LAUREL:You said none of those was a trunk key.

CLAIRE:I know, but I don’t think these are either, so bring those. (To audience) You’ve got a choice. You can see the play as a story in itself or you can look for its inner meaning. Either way, it’s a play, and my name is Claire. No one calls me by my name, so I’ll tell you that right out.

LAUREL:Claire! Claire!

CLAIRE:Well, what do I know? Everybody improves.