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andru235
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an unorthodox but sincere compliment in the classical format: imitative plagarism
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ACT ONE
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the grassy area in the cloverleaf of an 8-lane superhighway interchange. fourteen light posts.
midnight.
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[['worwood' is trying to take off his wristwatch. could it be that the clasp has rusted? he gives up, frustrated, then resumes trying. again. enter 'rimidal']]
WORWOOD: [giving up again] Blathing to be done.
RIMIDAL: [prancing in the field] Why, I agree! I shall commence, if you please. All my life I had denied it...then I began saying, Rimidal, be emotional, you haven't said anything lately. Reticence is such a struggle. [looks at worwood] It has been a long time.
WORWOOD: If I could [pulling at clasp] only...mmph...remove this confounded watch...
RIMIDAL: A pleasure to see you as well...!
WORWOOD: Oh, of course. Pleasure. You. Yes.
RIMIDAL: [taps cheek] Here. Kiss.
WORWOOD: [pulling at clasp] No, no. Must...stop...watch...
RIMIDAL: [taps lips] Here, then. [worwood doesn't notice. pause] May I inquire where Ms. Thing spent the night?
WORWOOD: Hotel...over there...
RIMIDAL: You look beat. Did you sleep?
WORWOOD: No, I...[the watch again]
RIMIDAL: You spent the night beating off, didn't you.
WORWOOD: [irritably] Don't gloat.
RIMIDAL: When I think of it...all these years...but for me...where would you be...[with certainty] Only bones would remain of you!
WORWOOD: Don't. [flatly.] How would I be worse.
RIMIDAL: [watching worwood with his watch] Who can endure everything? Yet...why endure nothing. If only we'd stopped enduring nothing in the nineties...was it you that suggested that?
WORWOOD: Are you going to help or not?
RIMIDAL: There we were, hands clasped in photo after photo. No one would photograph us now. We'd have to become criminals if we wanted attention...except from each other...[forcefully] WHAT are you doing. What?
WORWOOD: Removing this wristwatch; don't you ever have trouble doing so?
RIMIDAL: Baah! I never put the collars on in the first place. If you wanted a collar, you should have asked me.
WORWOOD: [angry] Help, will you not?
RIMIDAL: Time will pass, you know.
WORWOOD: Not with this thing stuck on me, it won't!
RIMIDAL: You can't be certain. [teasing] Only time will tell.
WORWOOD: [with pain] IT'S AFFIXED TOO TIGHTLY!
RIMIDAL: [drawing close] I'm right here! No need to yell, really! [starts to help, stops] How tightly?
WORWOOD: [more anger] How tight! He wants to know how tight it is!
RIMIDAL: [joining in anger] A simple question! I'd like to know what you'd do if you saw what *I* have! [gesturing]
WORWOOD: [seeing it. calming down. mild excitement.] Those pants are very, very tight.
RIMIDAL: [more anger] My pants! He can only think of my tight pants!
WORWOOD: [coyly] If you'd only do a reverse XYZ, I could think of -
RIMIDAL: True. [unzips] Forget not the simple pleasures.
WORWOOD: [muttering] Simple pleasures...[aggressively] You make me wait for hours, sometimes. You only need minutes! Hours are not simple! Minutes are simple! [he is reminded of his watch, thrusting his hand at rimidal] You're more than capable!
RIMIDAL: Sometimes I feel it coming all the same...yet, then I get all quee...quee...
[removing something from his pocket, shacking it. sound of a wrapper.] How shall I say? Relieved and at the same time...[searches for word]...appalled. [emphatically] AP-PALLED. [shaking wrapper. he knocks it with is knuckle while worwood looks on. shaking.] Blathing to be done. [worwood irritably returns to pulling at his watch and it unclasps immediately. he is startled and it falls off his hand, into the grass. he retrieves it and shakes it, tapping on it with his knuckle. shaking. tapping. shaking again.] Well?
WORWOOD: It still works.
RIMIDAL: Time has been broken like a horse. Let us restore it to its rightful, noble place. [he grabs the watch and hurls it towards the highway, where it disappears into the night.]
WORWOOD: [shocked] Hey! Hey, I need that!
RIMIDAL: No, you need this. Perhaps you will finally learn not to leave, this time.
WORWOOD: [he sighs. he sits in the grass, and stands immediately. rimidal zips, at last. rimidal sighs. worwood sighs.] I'm tired of this place. Let's...go.
RIMIDAL: Can't.
WORWOOD: Why not?
RIMIDAL: We're waiting for blatheau.
WORWOOD: [pause] That doesn't make any sense. [rubbing his wrist] What is a blatheau.
RIMIDAL: Who, you must mean. Who is blatheau.
WORWOOD: I don't really care. What, who. When, I ask. When can we stop waiting?
RIMIDAL: Who blatheau is must remain a mystery at which you can only guess.
WORWOOD: You must mean Blozzo. [pointing to green interstate sign] See? The next exit after the interchange is Blozzo Avenue.
RIMIDAL: If I had meant Blozzo, I would have said Blozzo.
WORWOOD: Fine! Where were we to meet him, I ask you?
RIMIDAL: By that tree over there.
WORWOOD: [laughing and sneering] Idiot! There haven't been trees here for sixty years!
RIMIDAL: What about that tree, there?
WORWOOD: It's a light post, stupid.
RIMIDAL: But the light is out. So it is only a post.
WORWOOD: No. It is a pole, a pole that bears a light.
RIMIDAL: It's dark.
WORWOOD: Light.
RIMIDAL: If it bears light, then it is Lucifer.
WORWOOD: Why would it be Lucifer.
RIMIDAL: That's is what the name means. Light bearer.
WORWOOD: Bringer.
RIMIDAL: Bearer. [pause] We played this game semi-agreeably, long ago. Now we argue.
WORWOOD: At any rate there is no tree.
RIMIDAL: So you are saying this is the wrong place.
WORWOOD: I'm not certain there is a right place.
RIMIDAL: I showed you the right place minutes ago, but you cared only about your watch.
WORWOOD: A truck has run over it by now. Minutes haven't passed; time has been stopped.
RIMIDAL: [with sudden, inexplicable enthusiasm] Watch this! [long pause.]
WORWOOD: What. What?
RIMIDAL: Time has passed, even without change.
WORWOOD: You can't be certain. You haven't a timepiece to verify that with.
RIMIDAL: One needn't a timepiece to verify time. Really.
WORWOOD: [in a huff] What do you want from me?
RIMIDAL: Come and find out...!
WORWOOD: [childishly] No! [running towards taller grass] I'm going over there to sleep! [falls. rimidal watches from afar. rimidal approaches.]
RIMIDAL: You can't sleep in a ditch! [peering at him] Oh...oh my. You are asleep. Are you awake? Worwood? ... Worwood? [worwood sleeps. rimidal removes a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, kneels, and chains himself to worwood. he lays in the grass. he sleeps.]
END
ACT
ONE
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ACT TWO
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somewhere else. different time.
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[enter andru235]
ANDRU235: [pouting. childish gestures.] This is stupid and I don't feel like going on. I can't go on. [grumbling] Alright...I'll go on. [baby voice] No I won't! The combination of apathy and laziness prevents me from further abasement of my favorite play. I can't believe you read this at all; what were you thinking? Go read something else. Such as the entries under " apricot ", for instance.
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050720
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