BUZZ ON

                                  # 18 in a series of daily one-act, one scene plays


[ACT I, Scene I, a man stands on stage dressed as a bug]


BUG: I am a bug. Much maligned. But I am a vital link in nature's food chain. Without me the food chain breaks down. With me, the food chain survives. Although I may appear ugly to you, believe me, if I was capable of comprehending you beyond a lumbering, God-like presence, you would appear as ugly to me. So please, if you feel we insects bug you, realize we insects feel the same about you humans. Don't let us (boy, do I love lettuce) remain enemies, but instead let us (delicious) be snug as a bug in a rug.  Thank you.

[two men enter, one dressed as bug spray; the other as a fly swatter. They shove bug to floor and kick him]



                                              (curtain)

MEMOIRS OF AN EX-EXTERMINATOR

                                         # 17 in a series of daily one-act, one scene plays


[ACT I, Scene I: Bob, a retired exterminator, types out his autobiography; a cocker spaniel lays at his feet; Madge, his wife, carries luggage out] 

BOB: Dammit, Madge, if you can wait five minutes, I'll load the RV.

MADGE: We can't wait. We booked the motel for tonight. If we don't check-in by six-

BOB: Dammit, Madge! I'm finishing the book's conclusion. Wait, can't you?

[cocker spaniel begins barking at Bob]

BOB [to spaniel]: Shut the hell up, Eric Clapton! Madge, you see what you're doing?

[Madge exits, and spaniel follows her offstage]

BOB: Now where was I? Oh yes, "So in my life I have battled bug and beetle, rodent and raccoon. I have awoken covered in more opossum feces than I will ever care to remember. The doctors say I have inhaled enough DDT that it is a scientific certainty my corpse will preserve itself clear into the next millennium. Every living thing within a 15 foot radius of my grave will die for aeons to come. In essence, my work will continue on long after I have shed this fleshy shell. In my life, the havoc this career has wreaked on my family cannot be imagined. Still, would I do it all again?"

[spaniel runs back in and begins barking at Bob]

BOB: Dammit, Eric Clapton, you're horrible. Absolutely horrible. Go dig a hole and throw yourself in it! Daddy needs to work.

[Bob kicks spaniel; spaniel flees offstage]

MADGE [offstage whining]: Bob! Bob!

BOB: Dammit, Madge! [then to self] Okay, just finish this, Bob. "In a word-yes. The End." Done. Now to find an editor.

[spaniel runs in growling and begins biting Bob's pant cuff]

BOB: Dammit, Eric Clapton, you don't deserve to exist! When God was considering bringing you into existence, he should have sat down and reconsidered it! May you burn in the fieriest pit of Hell, you godforsaken whelp of a were-beast! 

 [Bob exits grumbling and carrying luggage with spaniel tearing at his leg] 

                                           (curtain)

LIVING SAINT

                       #16 in a series of daily one-act, one scene plays


[ACT I, Scene I, two friends stand on a roof, one is dressed in robes]


MAN [sighs]: So explain this to me again.

ROBED MAN: It's simple. In order to be declared a saint by the Catholic Church, you must be seen three times after your death.

MAN: But you're not dead.

ROBED MAN: That's the beauty of it. One day I will be. Until then, all I have to do is lay low and once in awhile make a miraculous appearance and reap in the accolades, thereby ensuring my legend.

MAN: I'm pretty sure you need to do more than that to be canonized.

ROBED MAN: What's canonized?

MAN: See! I mean, dude, you dropped out of Sunday School before even communion.

ROBED MAN: I don't need school, man! I'm living it. Now, did you send my death notice to the newspaper obituary?

MAN: Yeah, but I think the Church would check into that. I mean, if they were even going to consider making you a saint, which I don't think they are-

ROBED MAN [interrupts]: The plan's foolproof. I just need you to get down on the street and wait for me to use the zipline. You remember what to say?

MAN [deadpan and bored]: "Hey, look up there everybody. It's my old buddy who died two days ago, except he's in an angelic robe."

ROBED MAN: Right. And then I'll use the zipline to "fly" between the buildings and you'll say..

MAN: [same tone]: "Oh wow. He must be a saint now. Hallelujah. Spread the word."

ROBED MAN: And then you place the statute I've had made of myself at the Catholic Mission and-

MAN: I'm not doing that.

ROBED MAN: But that's essential! My stone hands are holding out a plate for believers to place money in. You take the money back to my hiding place, and we live like kings.

MAN: This is wrong on so many levels, dude.

ROBED MAN: No,no. Don't worry, we'll leave some of the money for the nuns. I mean, I have to eat. Living saints have to eat.

MAN: What makes you think I can A) move a heavy statue of you to the Mission without being seen, and B) even if people believe this is real (which they won't) what's to stop the nuns from taking all the money or even letting me near enough to get the money? I remember nuns. They hit.

ROBED MAN: Hmm, well then I'll have to take the money. I'll just make a miraculous appearance every once in awhile, maybe when I'm on my way to buy cigarettes. All we'll need are some smoke bombs and a CD of Handel's "Messiah." [looks down at street] Woah, it's 6 o'clock-rush hour! Get on the street. Go! Go, go, go, go, go!


[exit man]

[robed man trips and ends up only able to touch his toes on the ledge as he hangs by the zipline. He can't muster enough speed to move one way or the other between the buildings]

WOMAN'S VOICE [offstage]: Look up there! A man is jumping.

OLD MAN: He must be crazy, look at his robe.

ANOTHER WOMAN: I've called for help, I can hear the sirens coming.

ROBED MAN [flailing]: Dammit. I'm a saint you people! I died two days ago and have returned!

OLD MAN: What's he saying? He is crazy.


                                          (curtain)

WE FIX CAR TROUBLES-FAST!

                                     #15 in a series of daily one-act, one scene plays


[ACT I, Scene I, a filling station, mechanic and customer talking in front of car billowing smoke from opened hood]



MECHANIC: Yep, I see what your problem here is.


CUSTOMER: Can you stop it from smoking?


MECHANIC [ pulls out revolver from under shirt, shoots car]


[car shudders to a stop]




MECHANIC: That'll be $350, not counting parts and labor.


                                                       
                                        (curtain)

GENTLEMAN STABBING STANLEY'S PARROT

                #14 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays

[ACT I, Scene I, an English tavern in 1718, a parrot makes moaning noises from his perch by the bar]

MAN: Sir, I’ll have another. [shudders] What is wrong with that bird?

TAVERN KEEPER: Him? Ah, that’s Gentleman Stabbing Stanley's old pet. Y’know, that pirate captain wut was hanged the week last.

MAN: Ah. So how did you come to own the parrot?

TAVERN KEEPER: The magistrate wanted to hang the parrot too, but the people protested. I myself think it was the little gallows they made for creature that moved the crowd to pity.

MAN: That is sad.

PARROT: ‘Tis no life for a God-fearing Christian man. Repent, repent. RAWK!

TAVERN KEEPER: He talks all day. It’s fine, as business won’t pick up until Yuletide anyway. He keeps me company.

MAN: I see. Have I been your only customer all day?

PARROT: [quietly] I will tell you a secret...

TAVERN KEEPER:  For two days.

MAN [whistles low]

PARROT: I killed Hook-Handed Henry and Rickety Jim. [sings] Oh, a cook and a captain and a coxswain am I!

TAVERN KEEPER: I used to think he was repeatin’ Gentleman Stabbing Stanley’s confessions, but now I think this bird just talks gibbitty.

PARROT: Ar-ha-ha-har. Do you want to know where the treasure is? Do you? DO YOU?!?!

MAN: Quiet!

[both Man and Tavern Keeper approach parrot and listen intently]

[bird eyes them for a moment]

PARROT: "The treasure is inside every Christian man-‘tis his soul!" Ar-ha-ha-har! That’s wut the priest said before I's stabs ‘im! I stabs 'em good! I likes a good stabbin's, I do. Did you know that about me? Me fondness for stabbin's?  [sings] Oh, a cook and a captain and a coxswain am I! RAWK!

TAVERN KEEPER: I'll tell you wut Gentleman Stabbing Stanley's treasure is- it's this bird after I let the taxidermist fix 'im proper. [Pours man a drink and raises bottle to toast at bird] To Gentleman Stabbing Stanley.

 
MAN: To Gentleman Stabbing Stanley.

PARROT: RAWK! To Gentleman Stabbing Stanley!

                                                (curtain)

                                      

THE GREEN VALLEY

              # 13 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays

[ACT I, Scene I, the drawing room of the Grimes Manor, dusk]

LORD GRIMES: Daughter, I forbid you to marry that roustabout, the Marquis of Green Valley.

DAISY GRIMES: But father, I love him so! Oh dear, as we speak a snake has bit me. And if I remember my studies well, it is of the poisonous variety. Possibly shipped over in a crate from India, and then slithered down the road into our drawing room. They really do need to be more thorough in their inspections down at the wharf, that wharf which we own and have built a family fortune with.

LORD GRIMES: Yes, they really do.

Daisy Grimes: I die.

MARQUIS OF GREEN VALLEY [storms into drawing room]: Lord Grimes, with or without your blessing, I intend to marry your daughter.

DAISY GRIMES: And... I am dead.


SNAKE: Ha-cha-cha-cha cha!

                                                                  (curtain)
                      
                                         

THEATER CLOSED DUE TO RENOVATIONS

  #12 (KIND OF) IN A SERIES OF DAILY ONE SCENE, ONE-ACT PLAYS

                             ~CLOSED~

                         

ABANDONED THEATER

 #11 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays


[ACT I, Scene I]

[a rat skitters across an empty stage]

            (there is no curtain, for the building is condemened)


                                             

GIVE ME A COSMO-TO GO!

                #10 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays

[ACT I, Scene I, a seedy bar in CA, 1957, empty but for an old man and the bartender]

BARTENDER: C'mon, Pops. Let's go. Pick your head up, we're closing.

OLD MAN: Mghhghf.

BARTENDER: C'mon, in fifteen minutes I want to be heating my TV dinner, not throwing you out again.

OLD MAN: Wakafracking no good mmmrgbah little green men.

BARTENDER [helps old man up]: Yeah, yeah, you and your flying saucers. C'mon, I'll walk you to the bus station.

[door flaps open but no one comes in]

BARTENDER [yells with old man under his shoulder]: Hey! I'm sorry, but we're closed. Hello? Must be the Santa Ana winds.

OLD MAN: Mrgufrump come to take me away.

[Door slams opens with a blinding light. Little green men come in and take the old man out of the stunned bartender's hand]

[Bartender walks to bar, grabs a bottle and takes a long pull]
                                                                         
                                       (curtain)

                                                     

BOTANICALLY SPEAKING

                 #9 in a daily series of one scene, one-act plays

[ACT I, Scene I, spotlight on a potted ficus in the middle of the stage]


FICUS: ...


                                         (curtain)

                                            

RIGHT NUMBER

                    #8 is a series of daily one scene, one-act plays

MAN [answers phone]: Hello?

CALLER: Hi!

MAN: Goodbye.

                                       (curtain)

                                         

ONE FISH, TWO FISH

                    #7 in a series of daily one-act plays

[ACT I, Scene I, a playwright pitches his play to a potential financer]

FINANCER: That's the play? A salmon? A fish as the main character?

PLAYWRIGHT: Yes.

FINANCER: A salmon who contemplates America as he swims through all the rivers bordering its biggest cities?

PLAYWRIGHT: Yessir.

FINANCER: A salmon who has lived for more than 200 years and observed all of our country's major political events?
PLAYWRIGHT: That is correct.

FINANCER: A salmon who contemplates environmental issues, through song, including a number with chorus girls dressed as various aquatic life?

PLAYWRIGHT: With all due respect, I thought it the best way to convey the message.

FINANCER: And you won't budge on the title: "America-Something Fishy's Goin' On."

PLAYWRIGHT: I will not.

FINANCER: Sir, I won't lie to you. I've seen a lot of plays cross my desk, but I must tell you-I will not finance this. I will not finance it not because I do not like it, but because it hits too close to home. For you see, sir; I too, like your main character, am a fish.

[financer unzips his body from the top of his head, and a salmon is revealed underneath, the fish flips around on the desk]

PLAYWRIGHT [relieved]: Well then, you, out of anyone, can understand it. For you see, it's not just my play-it's my autobiography.

[Playwright unzips as well and flips around in his chair]

[lights cut  to only red, white and blue]

[chorus girls dressed as Abe Lincoln appear holding sparklers. They sing Yankee Doodle Dandy, while the fishes flip around]

[the fish are finally placed in a tank by a smiling chorus girl at song's end]

                                      (curtain)
                                             
                                                   

SCHOOL DISSEMBLY

             #6 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays

[ACT I, Scene I, school assembly]

PRINCIPAL: Parents, teachers, school faculty and students of Ronald James Dio High, I regret to inform you that I must call this assembly to an early close. There is a ferret loose in the school, and we fear he may be rabid.

LOCAL REPORTER [stands up]: How do we know he's rabid?

PRINCIPAL: Why else would a ferret enter a school? [gestures toward doors] Ladies, gentlemen, please exit in a calm manner, single file. There isn't much time.

FERRET [ from offstage]: SQEEEEEEEEEEAK!

[all lights out; screams]

[lights return to an empty stage]


                                              (curtain)

                                              

GODDAMN THIS PLACE AND GODDDAMN YOU!

           #5 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays

[ACT I, Scene I, a disciplinary meeting in Heaven]


GOD: I'm sorry, we're going to have to demote you from overseeing Limbo.


ANGEL: Yeah, well, the title was misleading anyway. There was no bamboo pole or calypso drummer in sight, it's nothing but crying babies and aether.


GOD: And that's another thing, you can't be smoking and drinking around the infants.

ANGEL: Who cares? They're dead!

GOD: That's not the point.

ANGEL: Screw this noise. [tosses halo at God and walks out]


                                                  
                                        (curtain)
                         
                                    

THE FUTURE WAS TOMORROW

               #4 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays



[ACT I, Scene I, Los Alamos Desert, a corporate party to launch a sattelite]


TEXACO CEO [smashes champagne bottle against satellite]: I hearby christen thee, X-25437-P9!

[quick countdown & satellite roars into space; crowd cheers]


SCIENTIST: Goodbye, my son.


TEXACO CEO: Due to budget cuts, I'm sorry, but you're all fired.

                                           
                                             (curtain)

                                                   

SCORPIONS BEFORE SWINE

               #3 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays

[ACT I, Scene I, the desert at sunset]

COWBOY [shoots up a cactus silhouetted like a person]

THE DEVIL: I'm not impressed.

                                            (curtain)

                                                     

WHEN THERE'S NO MORE ROOM TO SELL

                     #2 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays

[Act I, Scene I, castle]


VAMPIRE: [rises from coffin]


GHOST OF BRAM STROKER: Prepare to be sued for copyright infringement!


VAMPIRE: Bleh! [recoils, falls back into coffin, lid slams]
                                             
                                     [curtain]

                             
                                                     

THE EIGHTH DAY

                    #1 in a series of daily one scene, one-act plays



[ACT I, Scene I: God wakes up on the eight day]

GOD [looking down]: I wonder how Man's doing?

MAN: Why? Why do I exist? What does it all mean?

GOD: QUIET YOU!
                              
                                   (curtain)