Acting and Production: Question of the Week (3/2/12)

Friday, March 2, 2012

Question of the Week (3/2/12)

Create a scene where a character is at a crossroads; this could be a metaphorical or literal crossroads. The scene should include why the character is at this crossroads and some type of resolution. Post your scene by 3 p.m. on Tuesday and don't forget to respond critically to another classmates' scene. Also, remember to bring a copy of your scene to class on Wednesday. Happy posting!

42 comments:

Mr. FriedlandMarch 4, 2012 at 8:24 PM
Allen and Tom walked into the woods after dinner one cool, nippy night. They covered three miles over a powdery foot of snow. Oblivious to the fact that it was getting dark, the two boys sat down in a hemlock grove to look at the porcupine den they had come across a few days prior. By then, the boys realized that it was pretty dark. Allen nonchalantly started to walk back in the direction they had traveled. Tom on the other hand was very nervous because the snowfall had picked up and their tracks were disappearing. Sure enough, Tom was right. After 15 minute of walking, their tracks were gone. Allen decided that they continued in that general direction. Soon enough, the boys found themselves at a ridge line. A blue mark on a large beach tree indicated a trail splitting into two opposite directions. The boys were slightly familiar with the trail, knowing that it spanned the ridge line roughly a mile in each direction. However, Allen and Tom were both unsure of which trail would bring them back to the road where they had parked Tom's 2008 Toyota Tundra. Fearing further exposure to the harsh Winter conditions which could lead to hypothermia, the boys had to make a quick decision. Should they travel right or left? A gut feeling emerged from Tom that the two should go left. After miserably treading along the ridge line for a mile, Tom collapsed. He was suffering from chest pains and had previously stumbled over obstacles that did not appear to Allen. Tom was hallucinating. These are all signs of hypothermia. Barely able to speak, Tom thickly said, "Continue without me. Call for help if this direction is the right way out." Allen refused to leave Tom behind and picked him up with all the strength he had. Allen carried him for about a minute before putting him down saying, "I can't do it. I can't do it. I'll be back for you. I promise." Using the remaining energy he had, Allen took Tom's keys and continued along the trail in the moonlit forest for another mile until he came across a road. Not just any road, but the road that the two had traveled along to take their hike. Tom's car was only 300 yards from where Allen emerged from the woods. Allen rushed back to his house and called 911 while driving. He explained the location of where they had parked and was told that a search team would be immediately sent out. While Allen bathed in hot water to relieve his frostbitten body, the search crew found a lifeless Tom holding a business card. He wrote on it, "Allen - you were a good friend. Thank you for everything. Thank you mom and dad. I hope you don't have to read this without me." Tom's body was taken into the town of Greensbury, where it was properly stored. Allen was notified as soon as the rescue team had finished their job. Allen owed his life to Tom. After all, it was Tom who made the decision to go left at that crossroads. Allen went on to visit the spot where Tom had perished every summer after. He set up a memorial in that area that would be visited annually by friends and family of Tom. Allen had lost a good friend that cold, Winter day, but continued a successful and commemorative life dedicated to Tom.
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AnonymousMarch 5, 2012 at 6:39 AM
Betrayed

Camilla and Beatrice have been best friends since preschool, but over the school years their friendship has been complicated by envy and jealousy that Beatrice has for Camilla because of her excellence in school. Beatrice comes from a well-to-do but culturally poor family, while Camilla comes from a culturally rich and intellectually gifted working class family.
Now in high school, the two girls have gone to different schools; Beatrice goes to the less challenging private high school, and Camilla the prestigious public classical high school.
An interscholastic contest was held for writing an essay about the Holocaust, and it was mandatory that everyone in Beatrice’s class participated. She went to Camilla for help knowing that she is a brilliant writer, and promised her co-authorship.
As expected, Camilla wrote an outstanding essay, far beyond her years.

What she didn’t know was that Beatrice had tricked her. Only one name could be on the theme, and Beatrice had decided to use Camilla’s help not only to fulfill her school assignment, but also to win the contest money.

The scene is the Piazza dei Signori in front of the Town Hall in Padua, Italy, on the 27th of January, The Holocaust Remembrance Day.

At the ceremony the Mayer, the School Committee, and the main Italian professors from all different high schools were present. Around the Piazza are milling hundreds of high school kids waiting to hear the results of the contest.
Camilla and Beatrice were anxiously but happily awaiting, arm in arm.

BEATRICE. You know, I forgot to tell you something…
CAMILLA. What is it?
BEATRICE. I found out that there could be only one author for each essay, and so I put mine on because I needed to bring my grade up for extra credit, and you didn’t. I hope you don’t mind too much.
(Unhooking her arm from Beatrice’s, she looks straight ahead. There are a few moments of stunned silence.)
CAMILLA. Whatever.

(The ceremony starts, and the Mayer steps up to the podium.)
MAYER. We are happy to announce the winner of the essay contest, which was written with such depth and sensitivity, we’ve decided to publish it in the National Newspaper. The incredibly gifted writer who should be so proud of her outstanding accomplishment is Beatrice Galeazzo.
(Roars of approval, whistles and claps from the crowd.)
Before we have her on stage let’s listen to this amazing essay read by Professor Rossi.
(Camilla freezes with this news, and looks aghast at her Italian teacher who was about to read the composition that she wrote, in the name of Beatrice. She doesn’t know whether she wants him or doesn’t want him to recognize her unique writing style.)
(The Professor reads it).
(Great clapping and shouts from the crowd).
The two friends get separated as Beatrice makes her way through the crowd to the podium to accept the 350 Euro prize.
Camilla listening to her best friend taking credit for her essay, moves to the back of the crowd, and then walks to her bike, headed home. Beatrice runs to catch up with her, the prize money in her hand.
BEATRICE. Wait, Cami, wait! Can’t you be happy for me?
(Camilla turns with a frozen, pained and incredulous expression on her face.)
In the softest and saddest voice she replies, searching Beatrice’s face for any sign of her old friend, lost forever.)
CAMILLA. Congratulations, Bea.
(She unlocks her bike, rides away quickly down the cobblestoned street, and leaves Beatrice standing there alone with tears in her eyes, still clutching the envelope with her prize money).
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Alexandra N ShworakMarch 5, 2012 at 7:43 AM
Where will my hearts path lead?

Scene: ALICE is 22, and is starting a career in psychology at a medical center in their town. She has recieved a wonderful offer from a school six hours drive away, but it’s an offer she almost can’t refuse. Her one problem, she can’t bear to loose her best friend ANDY.
ALICE is standing in a soccer field opposite a play ground. She is standing in the middle of the soccer field, staring at two people at the playground. ANDY, her best friend, and CHRISTINA, his girlfriend. ALICE has a backpack on, and car keys in one hand. The other hand holds two letters, one in a white envelope, one in a red envelope, both addressed to ANDY. One contains lies, the other, truth. Her dog SPARKY stands at her feet, ready to carry a letter to ANDY.

Alice (as an internal monologue): So this is it. I have only two options, leave, or stay. Be honest, or lie. Loose him...or...(as external monologue) loose him. (sigh) It could go either way. If I leave I escape with my dignity, my honor. If I stay, if I give him this letter, (looks to red envelope), I could have him. My best friend, my secret love. But what if he doesn’t believe me? What if he thinks I’m lying? But why would I lie to him? He’d never think that I would lie, would he? He’d think...that I’m too good a fried to lie...but, if he does break up with her, will he love me? He’s been ignoring me for her. Always her. I never get to see him anymore. When I do, she’s there too. I always feel like a third wheel. He obviously cares about her way more then he’d ever care about me. (she quotes the white letter) “I’ll always been your second favorite girl. But no matter what, I’ll...be your friend. Always.”
I have to go. I can’t hurt him. I’ll move on, I’ll go get my own boyfriend. I’ll go get my masters...and a life. I’ve been trying to hold on to him for too long. She won. She’ll never know how lucky she is. I could end her relationship with one command to Sparky. Though I would love to break her heart...and her in general...I can’t break his heart. I can barely go without talking to him for two days, for crying out loud! I’ve never had anyone like him. He’s my best friend, my confidante, my...my...love. Why can’t we be together? I love him...(hysterical screech) WHY!!! (she suddenly drops to the ground in a crouch, realizing that she yelled and could have gotten the attention of the playground love birds.)
ANDY turns his head away from CHRISTINA towards where the heartbroken screech came from. He recognized the voice, ALICE was never the most quiet or graceful crier.
Andy: (tentatively first, then stronger) “Alice...Alice! Aliiiiice! (His girlfriend gives him a look) Hold on darling, this is important. Alice! ALICE!...Okay, here comes the pet name...Allypup! Allypup! Come on puppy, I know you’re hurting. (no response) ALICE! I KNOW YOU’RE THERE!”
Christina: “Ahem.”
Andy: “Sorry darling, I guess I just thought I heard her.”

Alice: (internally) WHOO! That was so close. I can’t believe he recognized my voice...but I can’t stay, I ticked her off. I could tell by her posture. I’ve started destroying them without even trying! NO!
ALICE proceeds to pin the white letter to SPARKY’S collar. She stands, ready to leave.
Alice: Sparky, go to Andy, do NOT STAY. Come back to the car as fast as you can.
The dog ran. ALICE rips the red letter to shreds, and runs as fast as possible to her car, packed for a trip. SPARKY came quickly after, the letter delievered. ALICE drives away, tears flowing, as she leaves.

Andy: “Why was Sparky here? Was I right that Allypup was here? What’s in this letter?”
Christina: “If you open that letter, we’re done.”
(silence, followed by the sound of paper ripping)
Christina: “Well then, if that’s how you want it!” (she runs away)
Andy: (reads) “Oh...oh no...Allypup...”
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AnonymousMarch 5, 2012 at 9:02 AM
There are these three guys. They were walking in the cold cold north. They saw through the flying snow a cross roads. The snow on one road was at least 4 feet deep, but the other one was practically clear. To Jack and Ben, it seems like they should take the left fort because there was almost no snow. But steve knew better. he knew that if there was no snow it meant that vicious snow beast had just been through, and he was the only one who was wearing snow shoes. He was convinced that they should take the right fork, but jack and Ben would not listen to steve
"Shut up steve, you just want us to go the harder way" said Ben
"no im serious, i read about this, we have to go right" replied Steve
"your just being stupid Steve, stop being stupid and follow us" yelled jack
"whatever man ill follow you guys"
So the three friends continued down the left fork, as they walked it got colder and colder. Eventually they all froze in there tracks as a blood freezing scream rang out form behind the nearest snow banks. The last thing any of them saw was darkness.
the moral of this story is do what you think and always pack snow shoes when you are going north.
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AnonymousMarch 5, 2012 at 7:23 PM
This story is placed in the 1700’s. Adair Erien 17 is a wanted Irish rebel against the English King George II, sentenced to be hanged for treason. During his time in prison John Shrift, the hangman’s son, 19 became a close friend. Now John must take over his father’s job, and in the process hang his friend. If he fails, he will himself be accused of aiding the rebels and, will be tried for treason.

The crowd, was large. The crowd was hungry. They smelled blood.
John stood under the shadow of the gibbet, leaning on the loathsome thing for support. Hanging had never bothered him before, you wore the hood, you did it swiftly and without pain, and there was nothing personal. The condemned knew, and you knew, the King needed a hand, John was that hand. But Oh… why today?
Dair mounted the steps measuredly. Small frame, shivering in the October wind, his ashy fair hair waved in streamers by the breeze. He looked up, and his old half smile curved up the right side of his mouth, wile the slightly scared, left side of his face remained stone-serious.
“Well…” Dair’s borough, was light and airy, calm and soft, even now, he gestured to the crowed, which growled with hunger. “Well… let’s give them what they want shall we, mi friend?”
John stammered and cut him off.
“Dair, I can’t, they can’t make—“ His friend held up a hand. There they stood in silence, a little wooden island above the madness of the world, alone…
“Ye are the hand of the law, no longer mi friend John. Ye are yer King’s hand yer’s not mine, mind, not even death will make me bow te him. I have two things te ask ye as I leave this world.
So close was the crowd that their impatient turbulence rocked the scaffold. John nodded eagerly,
“Anything.”
“First, give mi ring te mi family, tell them how I was betrayed and how… how I died. Second make it quick. I’m no dancer, and I ‘d rather a jump and jerk, than… steps on air.” Dair shuddered with bare perceptibility at these last words. The red-coated soldiers filed around the outskirts of the scaffold, causing the tide of the crowed to sweep back. They had swords, rifles, and blankly grim expressions, fixed like death masks, John nodded, and stood with joints of stone.
The crowd for once was silent as the damned man clammy and slowly walked to the noose. He took it in both hands, and slid it round his own neck.
Dair’s pale eyes met John’s, as the words lay softly down in his ears, with the feels of a kissing breath.
"I fergive ye."
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AnonymousMarch 5, 2012 at 9:19 PM
Lights come up on Reporter Ryan, a freelance reporter, Mr. Keller a cantankerous old man and his grandson, a middle aged man sitting in chairs.

Ryan: First I’d like to thank you so much for doing this Mr. Keller. I’m sure this is very hard for you.

Mr. Keller: I’m going to die soon and I need to confess to my sins. I need to tell you everything that I’ve done.

Grandson: Pop, you’re not going to die any time soon.

Ryan: Right, so over the phone your son apologized for not being able to make it. I am aware that this is a very hard topic for you to discuss so feel free to stop at any time. Is it ok if I use a recorder? Now I’d like to start by asking about your childhood. How did your family feel when-

Mr. Keller holds up a hand to stop him

Grandson: Pop, you agreed to do this. At least let him ask one-

Mr. Keller: Hush, don’t interrupt. I want to tell this my way.

Ryan: Of course. Whatever you wish. Take your time.

Mr. Keller: Lets see. In Germany it was just my mother, my older sister Lotti, Charlotte to you, and myself. We were by no means rich but we lived comfortably. My father died when I was still quite young in a fire at his job. Then our name was Goldschmidt. We weren’t Jewish but had that name because somewhere in the family someone had been a gold smith. I remember when Hitler came to power. So many families with children in the Youth… We lived near a Jewish neighborhood and had a good deal of them in ours. Sometimes my mother would do her shopping in that neighborhood. She would have the old grandmothers watch my friend Nils and I while she visited the market. We would play in the street with the little Jewish children. At that age it didn’t matter if you were gentile or not. But then came the Hitler Youth. So many of my friends went into it and soon the streets were empty of children to play. The Jewish children would be herded inside if their parents saw anyone on the street, once I tried to talk to a little girl and her mother rushed up as my mother approached. The women said “She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She wasn’t bothering him.” before pulling her daughter into a nearby house. I remember asking my mother why the lady had looked so scared. She just sighed and didn’t say anything. Soon after I noticed my mother beginning to look tired all the time so Lotti and I started eavesdropping on her whenever she had visitors and we started noticing a pattern. Whenever other mothers were around the conversation would always end up talking about the Hitler Youth. The visits always ended when the visiting mother raved about how proud she was of her son and then would look around and ask why Lotti and I hadn’t joined yet. My mother would gently show them the door. My mother was a kind person who would never be able to bear hate towards someone so she preferred to stay as neutral as possible about the Jewish situation. Nils’s mother was the same way.
At school all of the boys and girls would show up with their new haircuts and look at me and ask why I wasn’t at the Youth meetings. This went on for a couple of weeks until I couldn’t stand it anymore and told my mother I wanted to join the Hitler youth. We had a huge fight that night and she refused to let me join. I resented her but at least I still had Nils who’s mother had also kept him out. But soon he joined and got the haircut and showed me his uniform. He told me that if I still wanted to join he could help with that. That night, very late that night, there was a knock on our door. Lotti opened the door and outside stood two uniformed men. I remember Lotti hurrying me into the other room and we sat in silence.
After the uniforms left my mother informed my sister and I that would we would be joining the Hitler youth the next day. She looked so sad when she said that and Lotti’s face looked so much older than she really was.
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AnonymousMarch 5, 2012 at 9:20 PM
Ryan: Are you alright Mr. Keller?

Mr. Keller: Yes, of course. Oh, I was so excited. The next day I showed up to my first meeting after school with my new haircut and Nils congratulated me on joining. The things they told us…

Ryan: Um, I was told there was a specific event you needed to tell me?

Mr. Keller: Hush you, I’m getting to that. In the Youth we were taught to be good citizens. Lotti learned to take care of a house and I was trained for the military. As you can see I am not a big man and the years have taken their toll. When I was in 19 or 20 I was given a messenger job. I was honored, I was given a special uniform and my own bike. Nils was also made a messenger even though he made it clear he would rather be patrolling the streets. Soon we were carrying packages as well as paper deliveries. We were never told what was in them, we were only given the address and who to give it to. Soon I began noticing all of them were for women. Usually I would wait in the street while Nils walked to the door but one day we were told he was reassigned to street patrol. That was the first day I made the deliveries on my own…

Ryan: Mr. Keller?

Mr. Keller has started to shake

Grandson:Pop? If you want to stop we-

Mr. Keller: forcefully No! No. I delivered 3 packages the first day. A woman would answer the door and I would tip my hat and leave. I did this for a while. So many packages. Then one time as I was walking away from the door I saw a little boy with dark curly hair and huge dark eyes watching me. He reminded me of me when I was that young except for the hair color so I stopped to talk to him. I was just showing him the buttons on my uniform when I heard screaming from within the house I had just left. The little boy pulled away from me with such fear in his eyes. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that horrified expression. At the next house I am ashamed to say I stayed around after giving her the package. A few seconds later I heard a crash from inside and a girls face briefly appeared in the window before pulling the curtains closed.
I still had two more packages but my curiosity got the best of me. I stopped in a nearby park before the next house and opened the package. Inside was a wooden box. The top flipped up and inside was a fine gray chalky powder. I sifted through it and-

Mr. Keller shudders and begins to shake again, choking on his words

And, I- I found a wedding ring.

Grandson: Pop…
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AnonymousMarch 5, 2012 at 9:21 PM
Mr. Keller: completely breaking down I was delivering their Husbands. Every time I delivered a box I was handing someone their husbands remains. I had turned into the messenger of death. I left the last box on the doorstep. I couldn’t bear having to face the unknowing widow.
I went looking for Nils. I wanted to know if he knew what we had been doing. I caught him walking with some of the other patrol men at the end of their shifts. “Nils!” I called out, “Nils, I need to talk to you.”
He glanced at me with only the hint of recognition, “Can’t it wait?”
“No.” I grabbed his arm sharply and spun him around to face me. Then did I realize that he had become taller and his face meaner. He carried a club with him and seemed colder then I had ever seen.
“Make it quick.” he snapped, glancing at his companions who looked on in amusement.
“Nils, did you know what was in those packages we delivered?”
He shrugged “does it matter?”
“It was the ashes of men. We were delivering their ashes to their families.” I said, my voice cracking and shaking him slightly in hopes to make him understand the full impact.
He pulled away sharply. “They weren’t men” he snarled “they were only Jews. Of course I knew what was in the boxes! The camps send them home to their wives and brats. Your mother protects you too much. Haven’t you noticed people disappearing? We’ve been shipping off the rats for weeks now.”
“Stop it” I said quietly.
“I’ve been asked to help.” Nils said, his face twisting, “It’s always the same when we come for them, some of them try and fight us, some go quietly, some even cry. The women always cry and beg us while the brats scream in the corner. We cram them onto busses and then their none of our concern.”
“Stop it!”
“Don’t you want to know what happens once they get to the camps?” Nils asked through grit teeth.
“Stop!”
Nils grabbed my shoulders hard and brought his face close to mine. His eyes were overly bright and a wild grin spread over his face. “We are purifying humanity.” he whispered.

Everyone sits in a frozen silence

Mr. Keller: That very night I went to someone who could make me fake papers. I was told for the right amount of money I could have them in a week. That week was hell. I couldn’t tell anyone, not Lotti, not my mother. If someone came asking about me they couldn’t know anything. Finally I got the papers and hid them under my mattress. Every night I would count my money and take the papers out and look at them thinking about what they meant to me. I could use them to escape this hell and run to another country. But I would be leaving friends, or at least those I had once called friends, and everything I’d ever known. But hardest of all would be leaving Lotti and my mother. The women who had raised me to see clearly. But staying meant living in hell and delivering it into the hands of innocents. It meant living with the knowledge that people I had known since childhood were being forced from their homes and taken somewhere I cannot even imagine.
As you can guess I ran. I cannot imagine why I was so excited to join that cult, I suppose I was young and impressionable. It pains me that I couldn’t even leave a note for Lottie the night I disappeared. I traveled by train and walked in heavily monitored areas. There were several close encounters but as you can see I survived it….

Mr. Keller sits back as if to say he is done talking

Ryan: Have you ever returned to your town?

Mr. Keller: No, never and I have no wish to.

Ryan: And your mother and Charlotte?

Mr. Keller: sadly I do not know what became of them. I did not dare write until much much later. An old neighbor woman wrote back and told me they had moved away soon after I left. I suppose it was for the best. I would hate to think what would happen if they were suspected in helping me leave… May we stop now?

Ryan: Oh, of course. I thank you so much Mr. Keller.

Blackout
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seamus goodMarch 6, 2012 at 7:57 AM
This comment has been removed by the author.
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AnonymousMarch 6, 2012 at 8:03 AM
Him: I stare at my options furiously, sweat beading on my brow, raw desperation in my eyes. Two choices. Both equally compelling. So much alike, and yet so fundamentally different. No going back, once the choice is made.

Girl: “Um....excuse me?”

A voice snaps me out of my struggle. I look around, mentally cursing the voice for interrupting me.

Girl: “Um...excuse me? You’re...kinda in my way.”

A teenage girl, all short skirts, long limbs, and self-conscious self-obsession pushes past me, and casually, easily effortlessly grabs a Dr Pepper. Lucky girl. As she walks away, she gives me a glance usually reserved for the homeless, criminally insane, or large, possibly vicious animals. I can see her mouth form the word “Creep.”

I pretend not to notice, turning away quickly. The two soft drink cans, Coke, and Pepsi stare back at me, taunting, mocking, daring me to choose...and risk eternal damnation.

Coke, or Pepsi. Both have merits. Once wrapped seductive red smoothness, the other in an alluring azure curves. Nearly the same taste, same formula...but a world of difference.

I should probably explain at this point that I don’t normally leave the house. Ever since an incident involving a box of Crayola Crayons (52 colors of lifetime neurosis!) I’ve been terrified of choices. And the world is just filled with choices. Terrifying, maddening, painful, tiny, endlessnaggingtorturousgnawingagonizingchoices!

It’s crunch time. I have to do it. I have to end this. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. Either way, I suffer for my choice. There’s only one want to end this, however. I start to reach out. My hand shakes. My eyelid starts to twitch. My hand draws closer...closer...I’m panting with effort. Sweat runs down my face.

My hand closes around cold metal. I gasp, then scream, a raw, primal howl of triumph, a caveman standing of the battered corpses of my enemies. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a little old lady, with hair, fluffy pink sweater, fall over, clutching her chest and gasping in shock. Not important. Causality of war. It’s the way the world works, baby. I shuffle toward the checkout, stepping over the little old lady as she convulses on the ground. Someone’s screaming for an ambulance. I don’t care. I have my soda.

As I check out, I don’t even look at the label on the soda can. I don’t want to know. I squeeze, my eyes shut as the man at the checkout rings up my drink. When I open my eyes, the casier is holding out his hand.

Cashier: “Cash, or Credit?”
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AnonymousMarch 6, 2012 at 8:04 AM
The Crayon
Matthew Stebenne
Scene opens with two children sitting on the ground with coloring books. They are both coloring. MATT looks up and stops coloring. JON turns and looks up staring in the abyss.
JON: What?
MATT: Oh, nothing
JON: No, really tell me.
MATT: Well, I need to color this person’s eyes and I don’t know which color to use.
JON: That’s a big decision.
MATT: I know... (he stands) this is going to be hard for me.
JON: Really tough......
MATT: I have so many different types of colors to pick from. I have blue, brown, green, amber......
JON: But you also have to remember the odd looking colors like red and black
MATT: And sometimes there are instances where both eyes are completely different in colors.
JON: Don’t forget Central heterochromia...
MATT: (stops pacing) What?
JON: When there is multiple colors within one iris.
MATT: Oh, right.
JON: What color are you leaning towards??
MATT: (paces) My person is white, so I might want to go with blue eyes to enhance his skin tone, but I might also want to incorporate brown or amber to showcase his hair color which is a light brunette.
JON: What ethnicity is he??
MATT: Good question, I would have to say his grandparents migrated from the central Ukraine and his other grandparents were from the Andean region of south Peru. And both parents are 100% Ukrainian and Peruvian.
JON: That makes it tough.
MATT: I know!! Most eastern countries consist of blue eyes and most Southern American countries have brown.
JON: You haven’t considered green yet.
MATT: This is a very good point. Green might boost the overall spectrum of my person and help him be more worldly, since green is usually a common color in all cultures.
JON: It might help him with his relations with mid-eastern countries.
MATT: Yes, with the Muslim religion....
JON: Exactly, plus–
MATT: Wait. I have already drawn a yellow shirt, so it would clash horribly. (pause, breath out) I think I know, since he is a man and his father was probably a banker then that would have to make the pigment more on the earth tones side. His mother was probably a small women and was from Odessa so we would have to throw in some hints of a powdery shade of grays and a small percent of grassy colors. He is a brunette so that would mean for it not to clash it would have to be on the brighter colors. (pause, breath) drum roll (JON starts drumming on ground) the color of his eyes are–
MOM: Dinner!
MATT: Oh yeah mac and cheese night!!! (runs off quickly)
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seamus goodMarch 6, 2012 at 8:24 AM
Seamus scene part 1

(The scene opens in a small room dimly lit by a few lamps. There’s a bed against the upstage wall along with a bedside table. The bed is unmade and a table is strewn with an assortment of pencils, papers, and small change. Along the stage right wall there’s a desk, which is even messier than the bedside table. Clothes strewn on the floor and rolled up in balls, and there is a closet door between the bed and the desk set in the back wall. The walls are painted red and are covered with posters that range from magazine cutouts to 4 x 2 posters of rock ‘n roll bands. Along the stage left wall there is a door. And on one of the bed posts is hung a graduation cap. There is also a suitcase open on the bed. All in all it looks like a normal teenager’s bedroom. A teenager enters from the stage left door. He is dressed head to toe in a superhero costume complete with tights, fake abs, a mask and cape. He marches to the bed and takes off the cape folds it up and holds it over the suitcase and takes a pause.)

Boy–You can stop hiding in shadows I know it’s you.

Voice–So are you thinking of giving up?

(A tall man steps out from a closet. He’s wearing a tightly fitted suit, but nevertheless looks slightly untidy and rough around the edges. There is a scar over his left eye and his face is twisted into a knowing smile.)

Man–You should really clean up this place. It looks like the rat hole not that rats are all that bad but you don’t want your mother to have to do all the work when you’re gone.

Boy–I don’t need your advice.

Man–I was just saying…

Boy–I know what your saying

Man–Well no need to get all defensive quite yet.

Boy–How did you get here?

Man–I have my ways and at any rate I wouldn’t miss this for all the cash in the world. It’s the big day, right?

Boy–Yes

Man–Well I knew that already. What I really want to know is are you going to bring that cape?

Boy–(says nothing just stares at his toes)

Man–You’re thinking about it aren’t you? Wouldn’t that be a laughingstock? (Boy whips his head around in anger.) As soon as you get out of the car and you’re wearing that cape you’re life will be over. It will start off with the disbelieving wide-open mouth of every single person that sees you in the hall. You’ll have a few admirers in the beginning who think they’re trying to make a statement, but when they realize you’re just doing it because you think you’re a real superhero, they will abandon you just like all the others. Eventually, one of your teachers will report you to the school psychiatrist. You’ll have to sit through hours of dull useless garble spewing out of some quack with a certificate who will eventually diagnose you with some crazy mental disorder picked at random from an encyclopedia probably called “endo-caner-toomo-stisya” or “ fertin-bater-o-dorcia”. You will eventually get addicted to the drugs he prescribes for your psychiatric problem. And you will die of some horrific side effect that is associated with the drugs that gave you the illusion of happiness in your last few days of life. And all the while this is happening, everyone who sees you will whisper under their breath, “ There goes cape boy. Bet you think you can fly cape boy.”
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Eric LanMarch 6, 2012 at 8:43 AM
A scene in Best Buy, a guy, Paul and his best friend and roommate in college, Mike. Paul is ponding whether to buy the cheap vacuum cleaner or the expensive, but more powerful one.
"Awe.. I don't know dude, its just hard, I mean, the cheap one is only fifty bucks, but seems like it'll broken after half a year using it. The expensive one seems powerful, like it can suck up your carpet, but its gonna cost me half my part time salary."
"Oh common, its getting late, and we've been here for like…(look at his watch) what!? One hour!" says Mike, shockingly.
"Alright man, Im sorry for taking so much time, you pick one, and were outta here."
"Its ok, well, just pick the cheap one, who cares if it break down, well just buy a new one then, even doubling the price, its still cheaper than the expensive one."
"Yeah, think it makes sense, yeah…yeah, well just..(reaches out his hand to pick up the vacuum cleaner) (pauses when touches the cleaner) Yeah, I understand what you're saying but…. what if its too weak to suck up the tiny things or the things stuck in the corner? Or, or, or the chips stuck in the couch? Our front door mattress?"
"Alright then, pick the powerful one so there will be no regrets."
"Yeah… two hundred bucks…. darn thats four shirts, or shoes, dude, I can buy a PSVita with two hundred bucks!"
"Just pick it up and go to the god damn counter!" says Mike furiously.
"Alright alright alright! sorry man, its just so hard to spend half of your salary! or four shirts! or a PSVita! I just need more time to convince myself that this is worth the money!"
"Five minutes, thats all you've got"(turning his head away)
-FIVE MINUTES LATER-
"Alright man, Ive decided, I'll pick the expensive one"(picks up the vacuum cleaner completely) (they both walks down the aisle, and there is a vacuum cleaner on sale on the bottom of the aisle)
"Holly god, man, did you see that!? Its on sale! it seems to be a powerful one and its only a hundred and fifty bucks!"(excitingly)
"Turn your head back and keep walking"(indifferently)
"Common dude, I don't want to waste any money, I don't care, Im gonna take a look."(rushes to the vacuum cleaner)"See!? 4500 rpm! same as this one! this is a bargain!"
"Alright alright, pick that one and snap"
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Eric LanMarch 6, 2012 at 8:43 AM
"Yeah! Awesome!"(super exciting with a huge smile on his face)"But uh… why do you think its on sale? I mean, theres got to be a problem with this one, I mean, I mean, maybe it sells bad, no customers! Why it there no customers? Maybe its not as good as it was supposed to be!"
"You know what? Im done! Im sick of you being picky, Im sick of spending an hour and a half picking on vacuum cleaners! ITS JUST A VACUUM CLEANER!!"(a volcano erupting in his head)
" "Only" a vacuum cleaner!? "only"? Its vacuum cleaner! Weather you live your life easy or not, it all depends on this vacuum cleaner! and I don't want to waste money, its money we are talking about! Cant believe it."
"Oh give me a break, depends on thi…."
(interrupts)"And dare you pick up the word ''picky'' no one calls me picky, we went through this! Last time you said I was picky, we had a month in slience! You want that!?"
"I don't care man, Im done, you drive yourself home, Im done here."(walks away)
"Don't you walk away from me, once you step over the line, we are done! for good!"
Mike(keeps walking)
Paul(throws the vacuum cleaner on the floor(the expensive one))
Best Buy staff''Hey kid, you've got to pay for that!"
END

Paul and Mike ''were'' choosing which vacuum they should buy, but when they had an argument, what they are really choosing is weather to pick the vacuum or their friend. They were too focused on choosing the vacuum cleaner that they overlooked their friendship, which is as known as, the adding value(of Paul's insistence to pick the vacuum and of Mike's decision not to continue to pick the vacuum)
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AnonymousMarch 6, 2012 at 10:07 AM
Sally a 14 year old girl has just moved to town and was invited to a neighborhood BBQ. The time has come to decided what to eat. Hot dog? Or Hamburger? This decision could make or break her relationship with the neighborhood kids.

Oh no it's almost my turn, what do I do?

if I choose the hot dog they will think im graceful. That thin perfectly shaped meat perfectly placed in between a nice little bun.

But If I choose the hamburger they might think im Manley. At home all the biker chicks ate them, I used to watch the meat fly from there mouths as they tried to talk while eating.

But if I choose the hotdog they might think im boring. Its just so simple there isn't much risk. But isn't that what friendship is about taking risks? If I dont take risks maybe ill never make friends.

The hamburger is so deep it has so much too it. The lettuce, the tomato, the pickles, the union, ketchup, and mustered. Theres so much to it.

But the hamburger is so messy, what if they think im a slob?

The hotdog is neat.... but what if they judge me for making the easier choice?

okay hurry up.... make a decision.. there's only one person left.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Hello sally, what would you like? Hot dog, or Hamburger?"

"ummm do you have any veggie burgers?"
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AnonymousMarch 6, 2012 at 11:31 AM
(Johanna is in a soccer field where she has played for the last three years. She is juggling the soccer ball and is trying to improve. She talks to her friend Lily who participates in the school musical every year.)

LILY: Why are you so determined to be the next big star of the soccer team?

JOHANNA: We have the potential to be the State Champions this year. With the array of talent coming up and I don’t want to miss out on something that big!

LILY: Johanna, last year you complained nonstop about not being able to play at all.

JOHANNA: But this year is going to be different. Sarah graduated. I might get to play this year.

LILY: Isn’t that the same thing that you said last year.

(Johanna stops juggling and catches the ball. She sits down and thinks for a second.)

JOHANNA: I guess that’s true…

LILY: Why don’t you try something new? Maybe branch out and meet new friends? You should do the musical with me!

JOHANNA: But I can’t dance… And I’ve never acted before.

LILY: Everyone has to start somewhere! I had never acted before my first production and I love it!

JOHANNA: But aren’t the dances really hard?

LILY: You’ll learn them. You won’t get it immediately but by the performance no one will be able to take their eyes off of you.

JOHANNA: You’re just saying that because you want me to do the musical.

LILY: What if I am? You’ll have more fun than you’ve had in a long time with the soccer team.

JOHANNA: And you’re the only one I know doing the musical.

LILY: The best thing about theatre is the community that comes with it. It might be scary not to know anybody and to put yourself out there. But it pays off. By the end of the musical I guarantee that you will be twice as close to the people in the cast then you would be to your soccer team if you played soccer again.

JOHANNA: And I guess, doing the musical doesn’t mean I can never play soccer again. There are always other teams and other years. I guess I’ll give it a try. Maybe meet some new people. Who knows maybe I’ll be the next star on Broadway!

(Johanna warbles the first verse to a song, hitting a number of wrong notes and showing no musical ability. Lily and Johanna both burst into laughter. They stand up and Johanna punts the soccer ball into the goal and leaves it there as she and Lily walk away from the field.)
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AnonymousMarch 7, 2012 at 9:05 AM
THE SCENE: john and donna are at another shop. Donna is currently changing into a pink ruffled dress while john is waiting outside bored out of his mind. Donna finally comes out.

Donna: so I think this dress is better than the purple one plus my mom says im one of the few people who can pull off this type of pink.
John : Of course dear you look beautiful in all of the dresses you wear but how about you pick one ?
Donna: well that is sweet of you but we’ve got time dear don’t worry about it it’s only 3 the movie starts a 7:20
John: I guess but what about you pick dress and then you can wear your new dress to the movie tonight does that sound good to you?
Donna: oh that is a wonderful idea! Ok so I think I want this one but I need to know something
John: yes, dear?
Donna: does it make me look fat?
(off to the side lights would go out on donna it would be a monologue thing)
John : it’s a trap! What ever I say will be used against me. DAMN I just wanted a nice night we would go see the movie go home and I would not have her nag at me for a whole week. If I say no she will think im lieing to her and that I have always lied to her BUT if I say that it does, and let’s face it she has gained a few pounds, then she will want to blow up in my face and not go out . I really wanted to see that damn movie. Wait she has a good sense of humour maybe she will not be so mad if I make a joke out of it . no that will never work so I guess I ether answer and im in hell for the rest of the night or I could walk out and go see that movie without her face the fire when I get back.
(lights come back up on an expectant donna tapping her foot)
John: honey I would just like to say……(inching toward off stage)
(john runs off stage)
Donna : JOHN!!!!!
LIGHTS FADE
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AnonymousMarch 7, 2012 at 12:02 PM
Sam is at a red light in the middle of traffic. She just came from her now ex husband’s house after catching him in bed with another woman. Anger and embarrassment rose to her head and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Her teeth are bared and clenched as she thinks about which turn to make. Taking a right will lead her to CVS where she would pick up pounds upon pounds of candy and sugar-filled treats that she would then take to a friends house and eat until she was to sugar high to think about the recent humiliation. Taking a left will lead her to the pet store where she would soothingly pet all the fluffy animals they have for sale until she feels calm enough to call a friend to see if she is able to stay over their house until she figures things out.
Sam’s Head: So pissed, my god, when is that light going to change. Wait I need to make my decision. Candy. . .or fluffy animals. I have no idea .
Taps angrily on steering wheel
Sam’s Head: I think I’ll get candy, instant pleasure. But wait *furrows brow* if i get candy I’ll get fatter and I won’t be able to show Ben what he’s missing. If I go and see the fluffy animals I won’t get fat, and then I’ll go stay with a really active friend and have them help me get fit.
Sam nods her head and smiles. The line of cars moves slowly forward and Sam’s smile fades.
Sam’s Head: But. . . .those tangy, delectable, twizlers. Oh, how I want to taste their citris and stawberry flavor.
Sam drove slowly up to the stop light. It was time to make her decision. She quickly looked down at her belly rolls. She looked right, to CVS and smiles as if remember an old friend, and then left, to the pet store. Slowly she turned the wheel left and grinned, seeing a new bright future ahead, oh and the pet store.
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Gus W.March 30, 2012 at 10:30 AM
Scene:
Mort and Wes, two over-excited interns at a local hospital, open the door to they’re new apartment. The old, time worn apartment walls are bare and except for a 70’s style white shag carpet, it was empty. Gazing into the different tattered corners of the room, Wes notices a note on the table with small almost illegible writing on it. There is a small ceiling fan on low speed rumbling on the ceiling, and a dim white light is placed upon the set.

Costumes:
Mort: An old baseball cap, jean shorts, a size small black deep v-neck tee, a loose bow-tie, and aviator sunglasses.
Wes: Tattered overalls, a pale blue turtleneck, and a large gold necklace.

Wes glances at the note.

Wes: Mort, did you leave this here?
Mort: I don’t remember, I only came in here briefly before work today and i’m almost positive the room was totally empty.
Wes: Well someone left it here. Look, the signature at the bottom is certainly yours. (Wes holds the paper up to the light)
Mort: (grabbing paper) Well this is odd, that is my signature. You don’t think someone was going through my things do you?
Wes: I hope not, lets see what it has to say. (takes paper back and begins to read)

“If you want to live, look under the rug and choose.”

Mort: Thats weird..
Wes: (ripping rug off of the floor) Mort, you better have a look at this. Someone has etched something into the floor. (reaching under the rug) I’ts a picture, of you and I, but it has a heading.
“One must live, the other must go”
Mort: Is this some sort of joke?
Wes: You think I would joke about something like this? I just bought this place, little did i know I would end up rooming with a haunted doctor.
Mort: Look i’m sure it is just some sort of prank the landlord is playing on us. lets just put it down and set up our beds for the night.
(The light goes down, two sleeping bags and a few pillows are put out on the floor. A second light comes up with the table still in the center, a second note beside the first.)

Wes: (already awake, looking at the new note) Mort! Look, a second note.
Mort: Wha..What? Jesus Wes you scared me. You say another note?
Wes: Yes. Except...wait a moment. Thats...thats my signature on the back. (flips paper over) Thats my signature..
Mort: (snatches paper out of Wes’ hand) I don’t believe this. (Rips up note) “Tick-Tock”
Wes: This is getting ridiculous.
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Gus W.March 30, 2012 at 10:31 AM
Mort: Your telling me....
Wes: This is some sort of a gosh darn practical joke. Who the hell has a key to this house?
Mort: How am I supposed to know? As far as i’m concerned its just some kids trying to mess with our heads. Lets just forget about it and go to work.
Wes: You're right Mort, Lets forget about it.
(Lights go down)
(Lights back up, with a hooded man sitting in a rocking chair behind the table)

Wes: (Walks in, stage left.) Hello?
Man: (In a hushed tone) Hello Wes.
Mort: (Behind Wes) Who’s that?
Wes: Who are you?
Man: Who I am is not important. What i’ve come to do should be much more of your concern.
Mort: What do you mean? This is my home, and I suggest you leave before I call the police.
(Door slams)
Man: I don’t think you will be calling anybody. I suggest you sit down, Mort. I have come to do what you two seem incapable of doing. My client has put it on me to do a simple task.
Wes: You wrote those notes?
Man: No, not me. I am just a messa..well I am just a middleman. I simply complete orders.
Mort: Well I order you to tell me just what the hell is going on.
Man: The room you are sitting in right now used to belong to a very significant human being. Although he passed away several years ago, in this very room, no one has dared rent out the room. He still lives in here, just in a way so you cannot see him. He has many friends in the world he lives in now, and he has ordered a bounty on your heads. He has sent me here to ensure you that you can either turn to each other and do it yourselves, or let me do it right now.
Wes: (looks over at mort) Mo..
Mort: (glancing at the man) I’ll do it.
West: What?
Mort: Give me something to do it with.
Man: (Hands Mort a small pistol)
Mort: (trembling) I....(points the gun at himself)
Wes: No...
Mort: I’m sorry, but (points gun at man) I’ve chosen.
Man: No!
Mort: (shoots)
Man: (falls, only a robe is left, leaving no body in sight)

(Red light comes on)
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