Monday, April 28, 2014
Breaking Up With My Boyfriend, A Killer Android Designed to End Civilization
by Matthew Haws
doomsday, chalk, animatronic, gun, curved, hearts
Sometimes I feel like you love annihilation more than you love me.
Like, I get it. You are passionate about your work. I admire that. You really commit to every project. That’s the first thing I noticed about you. I saw you tearing that car in half and I thought to myself, “This is a guy with drive. And I like to sleep with people with drive.” Yes, I know that says a lot about me, chalk it up to a bad relationship with my father or whatever, but tough guys turn me on. And you were the toughest guy I’d ever seen! I’ve never told you before, but… when you ripped that guy’s heart out of his chest right in front of me… well, you ripped out my heart too. I had to have you.
And it’s been great, mostly, it really has. But lately I start wondering what kind of future there can possibly be for us, you know? I feel like all you can talk about is destruction this and exterminate that and what about us? I keep wondering… am I fooling myself? Can animatronic love last? Or am I just addicted to the danger…. you know, it’s not every day you date a guy whose penis doubles as an actual gun. So I’ll miss the thrill and all but… it’s just not practical.
That’s what I’m trying to say. I think we’re better off as friends. Please don’t be angry. I want us to stay in touch, no hard feelings. I hope you won’t see me as just another one of your terrified victims. But it’s for the best, in the long run. And come the final doomsday, I’ll be very happy for you.
But I just can’t be in a relationship right now. It’s not you. It’s me.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Grandfather's Orchard
by Matthew Haws
orchard, coconut, cuddly, foot, gritty, behind
My grandfather had an apple orchard when I was just a boy, and when we’d go to visit him I would walk between the trees until I could no longer see the house, pretending I had vanished fully into some other realm made of bark, and branches, and ripening fruit. When they were in season, the apples were everywhere and could be summoned at will by the simple reach of my hand. I walked every corner and row of that orchard, and came to know it as well as I knew my childhood bedroom or the yard behind my house.
Which is why I was somewhat surprised when I pulled myself from the ocean on that deserted island and found my grandfather’s orchard there. Each tree was placed exactly as I remembered, and walking amongst them I felt as though the big farmhouse and the dusty driveway were just out of view, and that if I only kept walking I would see them both, and the car my parents had driven there, and maybe my grandfather himself waving from the doorway with a fresh slice of apple pie on a plate. It wasn’t so, of course. Outside of the orchard it was just a regular tropical island, and there were no apples growing on trees, just a few coconuts here or there. I walked the whole circumference of the island, testing the borders of my new realm, and made the circuit in less than a day. I saw no sign of human life, only the chittering sound of monkeys now and then and lots of bugs. I supped on apples in the evening and wondered at my good fortune. The climate was too hot for apple trees to thrive, but there they were, and I was grateful since I never really cared for coconuts.
I thought of my grandfather. He must have been here before me, maybe many years before, for only he could have recreated his old orchard so exactly down to the last detail. But he had died years before, when I was sixteen or seventeen, and hadn’t exactly been mobile for many years before that, so these trees must have been planted at least thirty or forty years before the day I washed up on their shore. It seemed improbable. The trees looked young and well-tended, though there was not a soul in sight. There was a mystery in it that seemed to overwhelm all my fears for my predicament.
Grandpa had been a quiet man with rough hands, always working. When we stayed over at his house, I would come downstairs to the kitchen early and find him brewing coffee and starting some breakfast and watching dawn come in through the kitchen window. Saying nothing, he would fix a small cup for me and scramble some eggs, handing them over on a plate with a wink and then a quick, absentminded pat on the head. I didn’t much care for eggs back home, but at grandfather’s house I ate every bite. The eggs tasted old, gritty, like a recipe from another time. They were just scrambled eggs, though, and I never understood how eating them could make me feel like I had been transported to some long-gone decade.
To say I was afraid of him wouldn’t be exactly wrong, but it wouldn’t be exactly right either, for he was unknowable and distant, and I stood in awe of all he had seen and done and knew how to do and how little he spoke of it all. When he was around, I felt safe and loved, to be sure, but I found myself frightened to speak (I who drove my mother near to madness with my constant questions and stories) and so the two of us would sit and eat in perfect silence and wait for my mother and father and my brother and maybe an aunt or uncle to come downstairs. Silence was grandfather’s language. Since grandma had died, he’d become fluent in it.
The second day on the island I explored the interior, looking for some sign of the orchard’s current owner. I had come to the conclusion that such a person must exist and live nearby, for the orchard was too well tended. It was possible, of course, that this caretaker lived on another island and came over frequently to work in the orchard, but I found that less likely. I found no sign of anybody, though, and mostly ended up lost in the more heavily vegetated areas until at last I found my way back to the apple trees. (I finally realized I could follow my own tracks which my feet had left impressed in the soft and muddy earth, like ghostly reminders of my presence). There I caught a glimpse of somebody walking through the orchard, but when I blinked they were gone, and though I spent the rest of the day hunting I saw no further trace of them.
That night I was restless and could not fully sleep. A voice not unlike my mother’s called my name, asked me to return, calling me home as though I had been out playing and now it was time for dinner. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, but the voice did not vanish into some half-forgotten dream as I expected. Instead it grew louder and beckoned me onward, back towards the beach, and at that moment I knew somehow that if I went back there to the place where I had first come ashore I would find the owner of that voice and leave this place, and the thought excited me, of being back in my room with my cuddly blankets and pillows, and the smells of home, and all of this far away.
I was walking that way with an eager pace when I glimpsed it, through the trees. The old farmhouse and there, on the back steps, the man himself standing perfectly, peacefully still and holding a plate with a slice of apple pie. Behind me the woman’s voice still beckoned, but from my grandfather there was no sound at all. He did not hold out the plate, but I knew it was for me.
It took only a few heavy moments to make my choice. I could have turned to throw an apology over my shoulder toward the beach, but I was afraid to speak. As I mounted the steps to the farmhouse porch, the owner of the orchard winked at me and laid his hand upon my head, and then we went inside together saying not a word, and in that moment, in this moment, I think it all through again and again. Grandfather takes my hand. I am at peace. The rest is silence.
My grandfather had an apple orchard when I was just a boy, and when we’d go to visit him I would walk between the trees until I could no longer see the house, pretending I had vanished fully into some other realm made of bark, and branches, and ripening fruit. When they were in season, the apples were everywhere and could be summoned at will by the simple reach of my hand. I walked every corner and row of that orchard, and came to know it as well as I knew my childhood bedroom or the yard behind my house.
Which is why I was somewhat surprised when I pulled myself from the ocean on that deserted island and found my grandfather’s orchard there. Each tree was placed exactly as I remembered, and walking amongst them I felt as though the big farmhouse and the dusty driveway were just out of view, and that if I only kept walking I would see them both, and the car my parents had driven there, and maybe my grandfather himself waving from the doorway with a fresh slice of apple pie on a plate. It wasn’t so, of course. Outside of the orchard it was just a regular tropical island, and there were no apples growing on trees, just a few coconuts here or there. I walked the whole circumference of the island, testing the borders of my new realm, and made the circuit in less than a day. I saw no sign of human life, only the chittering sound of monkeys now and then and lots of bugs. I supped on apples in the evening and wondered at my good fortune. The climate was too hot for apple trees to thrive, but there they were, and I was grateful since I never really cared for coconuts.
I thought of my grandfather. He must have been here before me, maybe many years before, for only he could have recreated his old orchard so exactly down to the last detail. But he had died years before, when I was sixteen or seventeen, and hadn’t exactly been mobile for many years before that, so these trees must have been planted at least thirty or forty years before the day I washed up on their shore. It seemed improbable. The trees looked young and well-tended, though there was not a soul in sight. There was a mystery in it that seemed to overwhelm all my fears for my predicament.
Grandpa had been a quiet man with rough hands, always working. When we stayed over at his house, I would come downstairs to the kitchen early and find him brewing coffee and starting some breakfast and watching dawn come in through the kitchen window. Saying nothing, he would fix a small cup for me and scramble some eggs, handing them over on a plate with a wink and then a quick, absentminded pat on the head. I didn’t much care for eggs back home, but at grandfather’s house I ate every bite. The eggs tasted old, gritty, like a recipe from another time. They were just scrambled eggs, though, and I never understood how eating them could make me feel like I had been transported to some long-gone decade.
To say I was afraid of him wouldn’t be exactly wrong, but it wouldn’t be exactly right either, for he was unknowable and distant, and I stood in awe of all he had seen and done and knew how to do and how little he spoke of it all. When he was around, I felt safe and loved, to be sure, but I found myself frightened to speak (I who drove my mother near to madness with my constant questions and stories) and so the two of us would sit and eat in perfect silence and wait for my mother and father and my brother and maybe an aunt or uncle to come downstairs. Silence was grandfather’s language. Since grandma had died, he’d become fluent in it.
The second day on the island I explored the interior, looking for some sign of the orchard’s current owner. I had come to the conclusion that such a person must exist and live nearby, for the orchard was too well tended. It was possible, of course, that this caretaker lived on another island and came over frequently to work in the orchard, but I found that less likely. I found no sign of anybody, though, and mostly ended up lost in the more heavily vegetated areas until at last I found my way back to the apple trees. (I finally realized I could follow my own tracks which my feet had left impressed in the soft and muddy earth, like ghostly reminders of my presence). There I caught a glimpse of somebody walking through the orchard, but when I blinked they were gone, and though I spent the rest of the day hunting I saw no further trace of them.
That night I was restless and could not fully sleep. A voice not unlike my mother’s called my name, asked me to return, calling me home as though I had been out playing and now it was time for dinner. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, but the voice did not vanish into some half-forgotten dream as I expected. Instead it grew louder and beckoned me onward, back towards the beach, and at that moment I knew somehow that if I went back there to the place where I had first come ashore I would find the owner of that voice and leave this place, and the thought excited me, of being back in my room with my cuddly blankets and pillows, and the smells of home, and all of this far away.
I was walking that way with an eager pace when I glimpsed it, through the trees. The old farmhouse and there, on the back steps, the man himself standing perfectly, peacefully still and holding a plate with a slice of apple pie. Behind me the woman’s voice still beckoned, but from my grandfather there was no sound at all. He did not hold out the plate, but I knew it was for me.
It took only a few heavy moments to make my choice. I could have turned to throw an apology over my shoulder toward the beach, but I was afraid to speak. As I mounted the steps to the farmhouse porch, the owner of the orchard winked at me and laid his hand upon my head, and then we went inside together saying not a word, and in that moment, in this moment, I think it all through again and again. Grandfather takes my hand. I am at peace. The rest is silence.
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Hero's Journey
by Ross Compton
MYSTICAL, GOAT, ENCOUNTER, ALWAYS, EYE, HUMBLE
The stage is completely black. We begin to hear a noise that sounds like someone ruffling through a pile of plastic cartridges. We then hear the sound of a person blowing into something multiple times. It is now clear that a man or woman is about to play an old school video game. We hear the click of the cartridge entering the game system and the flip of the power switch. The lights come up dimly to reveal a dank and spooky dungeon. The dripping of anonymous liquid echoes throughout the dreary, blood-stained halls. We hear ominous “danger music” that would be at home in a video game epic. Enter a vaguely medieval looking ADVENTURER. He is wearing a helmet, carries a shield in one hand, and a ratty sack in the other. He notices a couple of torches on the wall and sets down the sack to grab one of them. The ADVENTURER then proceeds to carefully scan his surroundings for beasties. Suddenly, we see smoke billow from upstage, and from this smoke emerges a MYSTICAL SAGE. He holds a staff and is wearing a shimmering white gown. The SAGE floats downstage until he is directly behind the Adventurer. He stops. He inhales deeply and then speaks in a dulcet baritone.
CUFF throws his torch at the SHANANAHA. He becomes engulfed in flames. Beat.
SHANANAHA walks off stage and there is a beat.
SHANANAHA walks back in, showing no sign of his episode.
SHANANAHA produces a chest from beneath his cloak. He presents it to CUFF. As he does we hear a familiar “you’ve unlocked a secret” music cue. CUFF reaches his hand out to touch it but SANANAHA pulls it away.
Suddenly, three armored PIG-MAN beasts enter with swords drawn. They let out a horrific battle cry! CUFF springs into action and takes two at a time. SHNANAHA grabs his staff and battles the third one. CUFF thwacks a PIG-MAN in the head, knocking it to the ground. CUFF brings the shield down upon the PIG-MAN repeatedly, beating it to death. He then makes short work of the other beast with a spear through the throat. SHANANAHA disintegrates the last PIG-MAN with a mystic blast from the end of his staff. Pause.
SHANANAHA hands CUFF the chest. CUFF opens it and pulls out the glorious Warrior Sword! He lifts it about his head and points it skyward as he triumphantly beams toward the audience. We hear a familiar, victorious fanfare that tells us “He’s found something good!” Suddenly, the music starts to skip and experience loud, static-y feedback. The lights go out. We hear a voice.
END OF PLAY
MYSTICAL, GOAT, ENCOUNTER, ALWAYS, EYE, HUMBLE
The stage is completely black. We begin to hear a noise that sounds like someone ruffling through a pile of plastic cartridges. We then hear the sound of a person blowing into something multiple times. It is now clear that a man or woman is about to play an old school video game. We hear the click of the cartridge entering the game system and the flip of the power switch. The lights come up dimly to reveal a dank and spooky dungeon. The dripping of anonymous liquid echoes throughout the dreary, blood-stained halls. We hear ominous “danger music” that would be at home in a video game epic. Enter a vaguely medieval looking ADVENTURER. He is wearing a helmet, carries a shield in one hand, and a ratty sack in the other. He notices a couple of torches on the wall and sets down the sack to grab one of them. The ADVENTURER then proceeds to carefully scan his surroundings for beasties. Suddenly, we see smoke billow from upstage, and from this smoke emerges a MYSTICAL SAGE. He holds a staff and is wearing a shimmering white gown. The SAGE floats downstage until he is directly behind the Adventurer. He stops. He inhales deeply and then speaks in a dulcet baritone.
SAGE
Greetings, young Cuff. My name is Shananaha.
CUFF
(startled) YAAAAAAAHHHHHH!CUFF throws his torch at the SHANANAHA. He becomes engulfed in flames. Beat.
SHANANAHA
It’s so nice to finally meet you.
CUFF
Stand back, demon! Or you shall engage in a battle you won’t soon forget!
SHANANAHA
Fear not, Cuff: Hero of the Peasants. I am a mystical and mysterious sage, and it is my duty to guide you in your quest to find the Dodecah-Force.
CUFF
Oh! I apologize, sire. (beat) Excuse me, sire, but the flames! Are they not painful?
SHANANAHA
My boy! Are your elven ears clogged with Goblin’s wax? I am a sage! The fire is like 100 feathers tickling me simultaneously! And extinguishing them is as simple as *snaps fingers* (The flames disappear)
CUFF
Kaloo Kalay! What a joy it is to encounter such a wise and powerful being!
SHANANAHA
Indeed! (Pause) Excuse me a second.SHANANAHA walks off stage and there is a beat.
SHANANAHA
AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Why, God!? Whyyyyy! AGGGGGHHHHHHHH!SHANANAHA walks back in, showing no sign of his episode.
SHANANAHA
Now young Cuff, because it is dangerous to go alone, I shall bestow upon you an ancient weapon of great magnitude: The Warrior Sword. Once you wield it, you shall be transformed from impish wanderer to valiant soldier. A soldier who shall finally bring peace and prosperity back to the fair land of Hey-Yah.SHANANAHA produces a chest from beneath his cloak. He presents it to CUFF. As he does we hear a familiar “you’ve unlocked a secret” music cue. CUFF reaches his hand out to touch it but SANANAHA pulls it away.
SHANANAHA
But first, you must bear evidence of your fortitude! Have you completed the three challenges, thereby acquiring the coveted bounty needed to prove your worth?
CUFF
I have indeed, sire. It’s right her in this sack. (CUFF retrieves the sack and hands it to SHANANAHA)
SHANANAHA
Excellent, my boy!
CUFF
Yes! Eight severed goat heads, all of them—
SHANANAHA
Wait, what!?
CUFF
I said “Eight severed goat heads, all of them…”
SHANANAHA
(drops the bag) What the hell? Why are you giving me a bag of bloody goat heads?
CUFF
Well sire, what would you accept in its place?
SHANANAHA
…money! How about some money? Something with actual monetary value!
CUFF
I’m sorry, Shananaha.
SHANANAHA
What is wrong with you? These poor goats. (SHANANAHA becomes emotional regarding the goats)
CUFF
But mighty sage, I completed all the challenges as I was instructed to by the ancient scrolls.
SHANANAHA
You threw a spear into the eye of the stone Cyclops?
CUFF
Surely!
SHANANAHA
You played the “Butcher’s Lament” on your enchanted Theremin?
CUFF
Every night!
SHANANAHA
You both courted and then laid with all twelve of the Troll King’s widows?
CUFF
The chafe still remains! I fear it shall never leave!
SHANANAHA
And upon completion of these tasks, did Kleek-Klak the Albatross not lead you to the chest containing the 100 rubies?
CUFF
Truly he did! I held these rubies in my very hands!
SHANANAHA
So….what gives?
CUFF
Well, I put these rubies into my satchel and mounted my pony: Horse.
SHANANAHA
Pony-horse?
CUFF
No. He’s a pony. His name is Horse. It’s meant to motivate him, you know? To be more like a swift and trusty horse and not.. an awful, smelly little pony. Anyway, we made haste up the hills as the majestic sun made its descent behind the mountain tops. Mid-journey, I began to feel parched so we stopped off to have a drink of water. As I knelt down in the sands of the Boo-Bah Bay beside the Lanaina Lay-la Lake to quench my thirst, I suddenly found myself being approached by a decrepit, old man with a long beard and only one leg. He said that he owned a shop nearby and wanted to show me his merchandise. He mentioned that he had something that would help me on my journey. I told Horse to stay, which confused him and then he promptly drowned himself. He was a very dumb pony and in hindsight the motivational name tactic was clearly a fools-errand. The one-legged man took me to a cave where he had a display set up. A rusty candle stick for 25 rubies. A rusty bracelet for 50 rubies. And a strange sack for 100 rubies! The very amount I had on my person! I inquired as to what was in the sack. He countered with another question. “Where are you headed?” I am on my way to collect the Warrior’s Sword and bring peace to Heyyah, I say. And he says, “What a coincidence. The contents of this sack is precisely what you’ll need to obtain the sword!” So I paid him and took the sack. And here we are.
SHANANAHA
(Pause) So…you just trusted the guy?
CUFF
Yes.
SHANANAHA
Did you even look in the bag?
CUFF
I did. And I admit at first it did give me pause. But he told me that every one of these heads belonged to a goat with the heart of a champion. And that true riches don’t come from rubies or gold, rather it comes from what is on the inside--oh my god, he totally scammed me.
SHANANAHAN
Well, this is just fantastic.
CUFF
But..but he seemed legitimate. He had a shop!
SHANANAHA
Just because a guy has a cave with some junk propped up on a table doesn’t mean he operates a business. I’m pretty sure he was just homeless.
CUFF
It was an honest mistake.
SHANANAHA
Really? None of that seemed strange to you?
CUFF
Well, SO MANY different people have been telling me what to do and where to go that I don’t know who to listen to anymore! When an Albatross speaks to you and then gives you a chest of riches, a slightly shady looking amputee doesn’t seem that odd.
SHANANAHA
Get out.
CUFF
What about the Warrior Sword?
SHANANAHA
You don’t get a Warrior Sword today. Get out.
CUFF
But you said it’s dangerous to go alone!
SHANANAHA
It is. And I hope you get fucking murdered. GET OUT!Suddenly, three armored PIG-MAN beasts enter with swords drawn. They let out a horrific battle cry! CUFF springs into action and takes two at a time. SHNANAHA grabs his staff and battles the third one. CUFF thwacks a PIG-MAN in the head, knocking it to the ground. CUFF brings the shield down upon the PIG-MAN repeatedly, beating it to death. He then makes short work of the other beast with a spear through the throat. SHANANAHA disintegrates the last PIG-MAN with a mystic blast from the end of his staff. Pause.
SHANANAHA
I’m sorry, it’s always aggravating when that happens. Anyway, get out.
CUFF
I don’t understand. I had already vanquished these beasts earlier at the front dungeon entrance.
SHANANAHA
I know. They regenerate after 20 minutes or so. I spend most of my time in this dungeon killing these things over and over.
CUFF
So they just keep coming out of this corridor here? *gasp* What’s this?! All of your pots! I smashed them all on my way in here! Yet here they stand intact!
SHANANAHA
Yes, they magically regenerate as well. Also, I’m not sure why you feel it’s ok to smash other people’s belongings for seemingly no reason, you psychopath. Now will you please leave?
CUFF
Yes. (beat) And you should come with me.
SHANANAHA
Come with you? Humble yourself, lowly turd-chunk! I am Shananaha, the mystical sage! I am here to provide wisdom, ancient relics and general gravitas to those who are worthy. It has been my job for centuries and it shall remain my job…forever. (SHANANAHA is a bit shaken to say this out loud)
CUFF
Exactly. Have you ever known anything else?
SHANANAHA
Well, no but…
CUFF
And clearly none of the other would-be warriors you’ve encountered have brought peace to the kingdom.
SHANANAHA
No, quite the opposite in fact. Most of them find out that they have to use their brain and solve puzzles so they just quit. Oh, and one guy was pecked to death by a bunch of angry chickens.
CUFF
So why continue to toil under these less than satisfactory conditions, Shananaha? Why keep going through the motions? That’s what I’m asking myself at this very moment! I run around this infernal land searching for trinkets that only lead me to more trinkets and so on. Accomplishing menial tasks commanded of me by an ancient scroll that was written so long ago that we have no idea who wrote it or if her or she was of any significance or wisdom at all. For all we know, we found some lonely nerd’s Fan Fiction. None of it makes any sense! I do not know what a Dodecah-Force even is. And what does playing a song about cured meats on an enchanted Theremin have to do with finding a sword?
SHANANAHA
At least it wasn’t an enchanted recorder. That shit conjures up tornadoes. (looks out into the distance solemnly) so many children’s band recitals, so many needless deaths.
CUFF
Even so. Just as these unfortunate beasts are doomed to a never-ending cycle of death and re-birth, so are we doomed to embark on quests for things that are unattainable to us.
SHANANAHA
(pause) I think that you’re right, young Cuff.
CUFF
Indeed, I am. So what say you!? Shall we exit this dreary dungeon, head to the Vavathathashnosh Village, locate the nearest tavern to enjoy a fine mead and then leave the land of Heyyah forever?
SHANANAHA
(Pause) I say, “yay”!
CUFF
Huzzah! Then let us depart!
SHANANAHA
Ah, but first, let me give you what you came here for! I’m pleased to say, that at long last, someone was worthy enough to receive this. And that someone is you, Cuff.SHANANAHA hands CUFF the chest. CUFF opens it and pulls out the glorious Warrior Sword! He lifts it about his head and points it skyward as he triumphantly beams toward the audience. We hear a familiar, victorious fanfare that tells us “He’s found something good!” Suddenly, the music starts to skip and experience loud, static-y feedback. The lights go out. We hear a voice.
VOICE
Dammit. Stupid game. *sighs* whatever. I’m gonna smoke some pot. END OF PLAY
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Some Monsters by Ryan Krause
Our frequent contributor, Ryan Krause, exercises his creativity by drawing an imaginative monster every day. Recently he's been drawing some based on some of the weekly words. Here's some examples!
DAYTIME, FIELD, BRINGER, ARBITRARY, ASSASSINATION, GRINDING
GOAT
EYE
DAYTIME, FIELD, BRINGER, ARBITRARY, ASSASSINATION, GRINDING
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
Ice Cream
by Allison Moody
collection, dove, lick, popular, short, noise
I stare at them, this collection of blonde, sun-kissed perfection, and clumsily lick my rapidly melting cone. A single renegade drip of vanilla splashes onto the hot blacktop, its sizzle silenced by the heartbreaking noise of their laughter. Their legs, long and lean, sail back and forth underneath the dropped down tailgate. I stare at my short, chubby legs and sigh.
These girls are everything. I want to touch them, to feel their hot skin in my hands. I want to kiss them, taste them, ingest their joy. Instead, my eyes fall to where the drops of vanilla have pooled on my thigh. For a split second, they entwine to form the shape of a tiny dove before sliding down the inside of my dimpled thigh. I shove the remaining ice cream in my mouth and swallow hard. As the brain freeze sets in, I close my eyes and face the scalding sun. I am at peace with the knowledge that their lives will never be mine. I will never know their elite happiness. I will never be popular.
Bro Breakfast
By: Katie Rose Krueger
fanatical, financial, frightening, glittery, mystery, sugar
Two late-twenty-something roommates sit at the kitchen table. Bleary-eyed, bed-headed, still in their jammies. A box of Apple Jacks divides them.
STEVE: [crunch, crunch, crunch…]
ROBBY: [looks up from his phone. annoyed.] Dude.
STEVE: [still crunching] What?
ROBBY: Your cereal.
STEVE: What about it? [slurps the milk out of the bowl. you know you still do it...]
ROBBY grabs the box.
ROBBY: Sugar: 12 grams per serving. “Crunchy-Ass Sugar Jacks” -- That’s what they should call these. It’s basically like eating straight up sugar cubes.
STEVE: They’re good.
ROBBY: They’re green and red glittery Cheerios.
STEVE: Shut up. Don’t eat ‘em if you don’t want to. I like ‘em.
ROBBY: Fine. [goes back to his phone. sends a tweet about his roommate’s annoying breakfast habits
grins.]
STEVE: What’s so amusing?
ROBBY: Nothin’, man. Just…something on the old world wide web.
STEVE: Right… Probably another cat video.
ROBBY: Nope, just another video of your mom.
STEVE: Assface.
ROBBY: Be sure to wash your dishes this time.
STEVE: [defiantly drops his bowl in the sink and then opens the fridge.] Dude.
ROBBY: ‘Sup?
STEVE: [pulls a petrified Tupperware from the back of the fridge.] What the hell is this?
ROBBY: I don’t know. It’s a mystery.
STEVE: Quit with your fanatical quoting of Shakespeare in Love. You’re a dude. And I only knew it was from that movie because you say it all. the. time.
ROBBY: That’s an awesome film, Dude! I watch that with Jessica, and I know I’m gonna get some. Don’t knock it till ya watch it.
STEVE: Ha! Chelsea and I can watch Braveheart and she’s ready to go.
ROBBY: [stares… makes a sort of squeak/sigh/grunt sound. envious?]
STEVE: [back to the Tupperware.] Anyway, this is frightening. I’m tossing it.
ROBBY: That’s cool. I think it was from that Fourth of July cookout.
STEVE: We definitely need to reexamine our financial situation if we are keeping food from five months ago.
ROBBY: “Our” situation? You make it sound like we’re a couple!
STEVE: Well…er… you know what I mean... [beat.] Um, I’m gonna jump in the shower. [exits to the
bathroom.]
ROBBY: K.
ROBBY picks up the box of Apple Jacks. looks in the direction where Steve exited. smiles.
End of scene.
fanatical, financial, frightening, glittery, mystery, sugar
Two late-twenty-something roommates sit at the kitchen table. Bleary-eyed, bed-headed, still in their jammies. A box of Apple Jacks divides them.
STEVE: [crunch, crunch, crunch…]
ROBBY: [looks up from his phone. annoyed.] Dude.
STEVE: [still crunching] What?
ROBBY: Your cereal.
STEVE: What about it? [slurps the milk out of the bowl. you know you still do it...]
ROBBY grabs the box.
ROBBY: Sugar: 12 grams per serving. “Crunchy-Ass Sugar Jacks” -- That’s what they should call these. It’s basically like eating straight up sugar cubes.
STEVE: They’re good.
ROBBY: They’re green and red glittery Cheerios.
STEVE: Shut up. Don’t eat ‘em if you don’t want to. I like ‘em.
ROBBY: Fine. [goes back to his phone. sends a tweet about his roommate’s annoying breakfast habits
grins.]
STEVE: What’s so amusing?
ROBBY: Nothin’, man. Just…something on the old world wide web.
STEVE: Right… Probably another cat video.
ROBBY: Nope, just another video of your mom.
STEVE: Assface.
ROBBY: Be sure to wash your dishes this time.
STEVE: [defiantly drops his bowl in the sink and then opens the fridge.] Dude.
ROBBY: ‘Sup?
STEVE: [pulls a petrified Tupperware from the back of the fridge.] What the hell is this?
ROBBY: I don’t know. It’s a mystery.
STEVE: Quit with your fanatical quoting of Shakespeare in Love. You’re a dude. And I only knew it was from that movie because you say it all. the. time.
ROBBY: That’s an awesome film, Dude! I watch that with Jessica, and I know I’m gonna get some. Don’t knock it till ya watch it.
STEVE: Ha! Chelsea and I can watch Braveheart and she’s ready to go.
ROBBY: [stares… makes a sort of squeak/sigh/grunt sound. envious?]
STEVE: [back to the Tupperware.] Anyway, this is frightening. I’m tossing it.
ROBBY: That’s cool. I think it was from that Fourth of July cookout.
STEVE: We definitely need to reexamine our financial situation if we are keeping food from five months ago.
ROBBY: “Our” situation? You make it sound like we’re a couple!
STEVE: Well…er… you know what I mean... [beat.] Um, I’m gonna jump in the shower. [exits to the
bathroom.]
ROBBY: K.
ROBBY picks up the box of Apple Jacks. looks in the direction where Steve exited. smiles.
End of scene.
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