Okay, so my boyfriend and I took this Creative Writing class together at our college and the last unit was playwriting. He turned this in to our professor and got a perfect score.
Rebecca: A pre-teen girl who really likes Friday.
Rebecca’s Mom: Literally has no other purpose in this play than having given birth to Rebecca.
Preteen: Enjoys offering his peers rides.
Graham Chapman as the Colonel: Serves as an artful ending to the play.
Child: Unfortunate enough to have come into contact with Rebecca.
(It is early morning. Black room, single bed with a multitude of stuffed animals. The main character Rebecca has just woken up and realized it is, indeed, Friday. Enter in medias res)
Rebecca: (speaking to a variety of stuffed animals) HOLY SHIT, YOU GUYS, IT’S FRIDAY!! I’m so entirely pumped for the weekend! You have no idea!
Rebecca’s mom: Honey! It’s time for school. You need to come downstairs and eat.
Rebecca: Okay, Mom! (to self) I think I’ll have some Corn Pops today. Do they even still make those?
(Fade out. Remove bed, enter bus stop sign. Enter Rebecca)
Rebecca: I hate standing at the bus stop. People are always throwing things at me as they drive by. I suppose I’m lucky I don’t live in the ‘hood’ anymore. Rotten fruits are better than bullets. I do miss the thug life, though… (Thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of 3-4 gawky looking preteens in a car) Oh! Hi, guys! What are you doing? We’re like 12. We can’t drive cars yet. Does your mom know you took that? Seriously. None of you guys are even buckled in.
Preteen #1: Dude, shut up. Do you want a ride with us?
Rebecca: I don’t know. There’s like one available seat in this entire vehicle. I need to ponder which one I should take for a second. People are both in the front seat and in the back seat. We are really in a quandary, aren’t we guys?
Preteen #1: Whatever, loser. (drives off)
Rebecca: Oh. Looks like I’m taking the bus. I’ll probably sit in the back seat. Kind of like Rosa Parks…
(Fade out. Remove bus stop sign, enter single desk complete with small child. Enter Rebecca)
Rebecca: And now, unfortunate child who I tutor, we shall learn the days of the week! As we all know, today is Friday. That means yesterday was Thursday, tomorrow will be Saturday, and then Sunday will come afterwards.
Child: I am not participating in this skit anymore because I have deemed it too silly! (falls out of chair dead)
Rebecca: That’s super unfortunate. Somebody isn’t having a very good Friday.
Graham Chapman as the Colonel: I quite agree. This is getting far too silly. I demand that this be ended immediately.
(Fade to black, close curtain)
I could be a ghost of the body living in my room.
My chest and belly are cold,
My feet and hands are warm.
I could be a whisper of the things that I once felt.
I used to yell like a crusader.
Now my voice is a drone.
When do we lose the parts of us we’re proud of?
How do we get them back?
I will look with unglazed eyes
onto this nebulous existence
and I won’t hesitate to cut it
with a knife, unsympathetic to those
who would hinder or impede me.
They are not my life, I am my life.
I cannot imagine not turning over
every last effulgent piece of
this Earth, and so I will
not leave one drink undrunk,
one feeling unfelt, one sigh
unsighed. I will take what this world has
by force; I am here but once, so do not
stop me, block me, weather me in,
it will fail. I am an intransigent
being, uncompromising in my need,
unforgiving in my ways, strident in
my demands. Like a preservative,
feral mother I won’t let the one
I love become victim to famishment,
and I am my child today.