By Brett Cullen
Therapist: You think I’m emotionally stunted?
Client: You…people like you. That’s why you and the rest of them - all those stunted darlings - watch plays, isn’t it? You go there to feel something, anything before you go back to your predictable, safe little worlds. Because, if you expressed something in your own lives, it wouldn’t seem half as fascinating when someone feels it on stage for you. You’d just watch the person crying on stage and say, “Yeah, I do that. So what? So what did I pay for?”
Therapist: You want to cry?
Client: I think you let others feel for you.
By Brett Cullen
[Two men sat in a quiet bar]
Man1: Are you trying to tell me
[looks and whispers]
you’re, you know?
Man:2 [looks sideways]
Quiet down, would you? Yes, that’s what I’m saying – working
Man1: What?! When did you realise?
Man2: I don’t know, always.
Man1: Do your parents know?
[Man2 shakes head]
No, I guess not. They’d never guess. I mean you’re not obviously working class. [Man1 does working class, swaggering side-to-side mannerism]
Man2: Don’t tell them. I’m not ready yet.
Man1: No, probably best to carry on pretending. World’s not ready for it. I mean, why would anyone choose to be working class?
By Tom Hart
Frederick and William, in a bar drinking whiskey.
Frederick: It’s all just a bit pointless really, isn’t it?
William: Only just figured that out?
Frederick: I guess… Though, I always suspected… How do you cope knowing this?
William: You don’t “cope”… You just drink more. Bartender! Two more!
The drinks are poured.
Frederick: Same time tomorrow?
Frederick downs his whiskey and exits.
Bartender: Really though, how do you cope?
William: Really though… you don’t. Another!
Bartender: (while pouring) Does this help?
William: (downs drink) Helps pay your wages.
Frederick re-enters. Sits
Frederick: I realised I had nowhere to be.
Barman pours three drinks. They down them simultaneously.
By Elle Johnson
Spotlight on a pile of bodies centre stage.
Bodies pulse in time.
A: When does loving someone turn into an obsession?
B: When is more still not enough?
C: How did his lies end in murder?
D: Why did she become so distant?
E: Was she Green or White, Evil or Good?
The bodies stop and roll apart. A siren sounds.
A: When a boy becomes a man
B: When a poet and a prostitute make love
C: When another boy defies societies wishes
D: She was trying to find herself…
E: She got lost…Or so they thought
By Frances Dickenson
A man and a woman. She is slightly older and stands. He sits.
You must marry her.
She’s one of us. She’s young.
People say she’s pretty.
It’ll make your mother happy.
Can’t I just chuck it all in? We could go abroad. Like uncle David.
I can’t stand Paris or the frogs! I don’t want to be hated. No, you have to marry her: there is no other way for us to be together.
You’re right, Camilla. If you can bear it, so can I. I’ll marry her. What could go wrong?
Wife: ‘You’ve left the windows open for Pete?’
Husband: ‘Yes, Don’t fuss!’
Wife: ‘What about the front door?’
Wife: ‘Back Door?’
Husband: ‘Unlocked as well.’
Wife: ‘Not open?’
Husband: ‘No, we don’t want next door’s cat in again, do we? Remember the mess it made on the carpet, last year.’
Wife: ‘And the smell!’
Husband: ‘Peeing all over the furniture.’
Wife: ‘Shocking. At least Pete doesn’t create a shambles. He’s a nice burglar - not like these modern louts.’
Husband: ‘Did you put out the sandwiches?’
Wife: ‘No, I left them in the fridge - fresher.’
Wife: ‘Early Grey - his favourite.’
Husband: ‘Right, let’s go. The opera won’t wait.’
And off they went.
By Jae Kramisen
ROY- male soldier, 20s
FRANK-male soldier, 20s
(ROY and FRANK are on the floor next to each other holding guns. They are in army attire and prepared to fight. There is silence. FRANK never looks at ROY.)
(Looking forward.) I just need to know.
…I need to know why.
(Faint sounds of war are heard.)
(The sounds of war are getting louder.)
(He is raising his voice.) Why?!…Why?!…WHY?!
(Stares forward.) Because.
(Pause. There is silence. Lights out. The silence is broken by gunfire and sounds of war.)
By Jenny Benjamin
- Give it to me then.
- Where are you, Vonnie? It’s so dark.
- Shut your eyes. Now, open – see better?’
- God, Vonnie, we’re on the edge.
- Do we have to be so near the edge?
- We’re where we need to be.
- The noise, Vonnie, I couldn’t take the noise – I never meant
- Stop it. Do you want me to pitch it over, or you?
- The blanket’s coming off.
- Oh, give it here. Right. Now, it’s going. Over!
- And you, Vonnie, you too – OVER you go. YOU’D TELL, Vonnie. You’d tell.
You said it, Vonnie – you’re where you need to be.
by Chris Lawson
Two colleagues pass time.
MAN: Want to play Vagina tennis?
WOMAN: Erm…what’s that?
MAN: You have to say vagina back and forth, the first to smile loses.
MAN: I win!
WOMAN: I wasn’t ready, start again.
MAN: I win again!
WOMAN: You cheated!
MAN: How can I cheat at vagina tennis?!
WOMAN: You raised your eyebrow when you said it…Vagina.
The boss enters.
BOSS: What are you two doing?
WOMAN: Playing vagina tennis.
By Jorge Humberto Pereira
Two Twins facing each other.
Twin 1: I`m tired of looking at you and seeing myself.
Twin 2: I know the feeling.
Twin 1: Maybe we have to give us some time.
Twin 2: Time? No way!
Twin 1: I`m sick of this circus.
Twin 2: But we belong here. What else are we going to do?
Twin 1: I don’t know. Kill myself perhaps or travel a bit.
Twin 2: I will die if you do either of those things!
Twin 1: Lets, make love than. To be even more freaks!