8 likes
1 comment
[Sensitive content note: This play contains themes of suicide, grief, depression, substance use, and the death of a pet. It also includes strong language.]
A MAN ON A BILLBOARD
ACT ONE
Trident
SCENE ONE
A door.
An apartment.
Five-thirty in the morning.
One of the hours created by bureaucrats, joggers, and/or the maniacally insane.
A knock.
JANICE appears.
Her hair trails behind her until the wind catches it. She wears athletic clothing so cliché it appears manufactured for one made of Styrofoam.
JOHN opens the door.
NARRATOR
It all started with a piece of gum.
That isn't true.
It started with a nurse, six cats, and a greedy neighbor.
It ended with a piece of gum.
JANICE
Can you watch my cats for the next few days?
JOHN sighs.
JOHN
Good morning, ex-wife of mine.
Yes, I'll watch Drengar, Reida, Sorga, Asta, Ofuna, and Otta.
JANICE
Amazing. You're a lifesaver.
JOHN removes a set of keys from his pocket.
Along with a pack of Trident from hers.
JOHN
How long this time?
JANICE
I'm not sure.
Between two score and three.
The black ties need convincing down under.
Hopefully ASIS can get the four-inch ply bar out of their cheeks.
A pause.
JOHN considers this.
NARRATOR
He did not understand a word she said.
JOHN
I'm going back to sleep.
If those felines want food, they'll wait until six a.m.
Like the rest of us.
JANICE exits.
JOHN closes the door.
NARRATOR
John pocketed the keys.
And the ill-gotten gum.
Then consumed enough diphenhydramine to sedate a horse.
[John falls dramatically on his back. Straight. Thud. Dust.]
BLACKOUT.
SCENE TWO
The cats.
The cats are everywhere.
NARRATOR
The wonder of the Palatine is as observant as Algernon's fanaticism.
This sentence means precisely what you think it does.
On another note, the cats demand food.
JOHN feeds them.
NARRATOR
The cats demand more food.
JOHN feeds them.
NARRATOR
The cats demand more food.
JOHN stares.
The cats stare back.
[The sun goes day, night - repeats over and over for x days.]
BLACKOUT.
SCENE THREE
A bar.
THE BARTENDER resembles a godly version of Arnold Schwarzenegger.
THE MAN IN THE BOWLER HAT sits beside JOHN.
He possesses the only head in recorded history that has ever deserved a bowler hat.
His pajama pants are black and red. Checkered.
His shirt is white.
[JOHN gestures to THE MAN IN THE BOWLER HAT. White Russian.]
MAN IN THE BOWLER HAT
Old fashioned, extra smoked.
JOHN drinks a Smirnoff Ice (green).
NARRATOR
Every tragedy requires a witness.
Every witness requires alcohol.
MAN IN THE BOWLER HAT
You seem troubled.
JOHN lights a cigar. Waving it, too.
JOHN
I'm telling you, friend-
The world ain't what it used to be.
It's too convoluted.
Sometimes the pasta is just pasta.
The eyes are just eyes.
And the fruit of Eden is what we call every other fruit.
THE MAN IN THE BOWLER HAT nods as if this makes sense.
JOHN
I wish I could be a Christmas tree salesman.
This time of year is beautiful.
He pronounces beautiful:
"be-you-te-fall."
BLACKOUT.
SCENE FOUR
A hotel.
HANZO dances with a room-service cart.
The cart does not reciprocate.
JOHN acquires his third complimentary coffee.
[Mug remnants accumulate.]
NARRATOR
They don't make them like they used to.
And for another, nobody has ever specified who "they" are.
HANZO continues dancing.
(The cart remains emotionally unavailable.)
JOHN
Why're you dancing?
HANZO
Tips
JOHN
Does it work?
HANZO
No.
JOHN
Then why dance?
HANZO
Habit
JOHN nods.
NARRATOR
That had married him once.
BLACKOUT.
SCENE FIVE
The devils arrive.
Like accountants.
THE DEVILS surround JOHN.
DEVILS
Whisper.
Whisper.
Whisper.
Whisper.
A shopping list descends from above.
NARRATOR
John's shopping list.
JOHN reads.
JOHN
Cigarettes. Four.
Bundles of fucks. Eight.
Milk. One gallon.
Eggs. One carton.
Butter. One box.
NARRATOR
Enough for four days.
Unfortunately, what he actually wrote was:
JOHN
Sqrs. Four.
Bundles, fucks. Eight.
Moloko. One gallon.
Cackleberries. One carton.
Beurre. One box.
NARRATOR
What a pretentious piece of shit.
BLACKOUT.
SCENE SIX
JOHN sits alone.
A spotlight.
NARRATOR
John had an ex-wife.
This was terribly inconvenient.
JOHN
I love her.
NARRATOR
Which made everything worse.
She wasn't difficult.
Quite the opposite.
She knew when he lied.
When he was hungry.
When his silences changed dialects.
Three months.
Three months learning the language of a man who barely spoke English correctly.
JOHN
That's the problem.
NARRATOR
John could see it.
The apartment.
The groceries.
The detergent arguments.
Her asleep on his shoulder during movies she'd sworn she wasn't tired for.
Fifty years.
A beautiful life.
The kind most men would kill for.
JOHN
I wouldn't.
NARRATOR
That was the issue.
JOHN rises.
JOHN
Every time I imagine it—
A feeling I couldn't pin between repulsed and attracted.
If I loved her less—
This would be easier.
NARRATOR
The tragedy wasn't that he didn't love her.
The tragedy was that he did.
And knew exactly how much of herself she'd already entrusted to him.
A long silence.
JOHN
She'll disagree.
NARRATOR
John wished she would stop doing that.
BLACKOUT.
SCENE SEVEN
A billboard.
A man stands atop it.
The city stretches beneath.
JOHN looks up.
THE MAN ON THE BILLBOARD
Death isn't romantic.
A pause.
JOHN snorts.
JOHN
If death isn't romantic—
What could be?
NARRATOR
John considered this for several days.
Which was entirely too long.
For eventually Janice returned.
NARRATOR
She repossessed
Drengar.
Reida.
Sorga.
Asta.
Ofuna.
Otta.
And whatever peace remained in the apartment.
The story should probably end here.
BLACKOUT.
SCENE EIGHT
John finds himself.
John finds himself on the highway.
There's a man threatening to jump from an advertisement for glasses.
Sometimes they're just for eyes and sometimes they're not.
The man threatens to jump. He feels overworked and overstressed — he'll be happier never knowing he'd know to do this.
A billboard.
Night.
The highway hums below like an indifferent ocean.
A man stands atop the advertisement.
JOHN arrives carrying a plastic grocery bag.
NARRATOR
John had intended to purchase milk and take it home.
Instead he found a man attempting to become a traffic statistic.
This sort of thing happened around him often enough that he no longer considered it unusual.
JOHN looks up.
[The person speaking for THE MAN is JOHN'S wearing inverted colors, who sets up a structure next to the normal narrator to say his piece for the scene. THE MAN atop the advertisement should dress as the given actor normally would on a weekend.]
JOHN
Bit high for sightseeing.
THE MAN
Bit low for flying.
JOHN
Fair.
A pause.
THE MAN
You here to talk me down?
JOHN
Not particularly.
THE MAN
Nobody ever asks why I climbed up.
JOHN
Why'd you climb up?
THE MAN gestures toward the billboard beneath his feet.
THE MAN
Bad investment.
JOHN squints.
NARRATOR
A remarkably talented silence.
THE MAN
Funny thing about billboards.
Everyone thinks they exist to advertise.
They're wrong.
JOHN
What are they for?
THE MAN
To block the view.
A long pause.
Cars pass beneath.
THE MAN
You know what was behind this one?
JOHN
No.
THE MAN
A river.
Didn't see it for twenty years.
Spent all my time fixing the sign.
Never noticed the river.
JOHN
What happened to it?
THE MAN
Nothing.
THE MAN sits on the edge.
THE MAN
Tell me something.
If a thing makes you miserable—
and keeping it makes you miserable—
and losing it makes you miserable—
why keep it?
JOHN
Because it's yours.
THE MAN
Is it?
JOHN
Used to be.
THE MAN
Those are different answers.
JOHN shifts uncomfortably.
JOHN
Give guided tours.
"Look here," they say.
"This is where everything fell apart."
THE MAN smiles.
THE MAN
Then they wonder why nobody lives there anymore.
The highway drones below.
JOHN
You can't just throw things away.
THE MAN
Who said anything about throwing them away?
A beat.
THE MAN
I'm talking about climbing down.
JOHN looks up.
THE MAN looks down.
For a moment they appear to be having two entirely different conversations.
THE MAN
You know the worst part?
JOHN
What?
JOHN
You gonna jump?
THE MAN
No.
JOHN
Then why are you up there?
THE MAN smiles.
THE MAN
Same reason you're standing down there.
NARRATOR
The man eventually climbed down.
John eventually left.
BLACKOUT.
ACT TWO
JOHN returned to his house.
Eventually Janice followed suit.
JANICE
Thank you for watching Drengar.
Reida.
Sorga.
Asta.
Ofuna.
Otta.
I appreciate it.
Thank you.
JANICE kisses JOHN on the cheek.
JOHN
Yeah.
Obviously preoccupied - fidgeting with a matchbox over and over.
BLACKOUT.
JOHN awakes in his bed. One of the cats is staring at him.
JOHN wipes his eyes and makes a coffee. He addresses the cat.
JOHN
You're still here? Fine.
He takes some of the leftover cat food, feeds the cat, Makes a coffee and drops him off at Janice's door.
JOHN
You left this
BLACKOUT.
JOHN awakes in his bed. One of the cats is staring at him. He takes some of the leftover cat food, feeds the cat, Makes a coffee and drops him off at Janice's door.
JOHN
You left this.
BLACKOUT.
JOHN awakes in his bed. One of the cats is staring at him.
Makes a coffee. Feeds the cat. Returns the cat.
JOHN
You left this.
BLACKOUT.
JOHN awakes in his bed. One of the cats is staring at him.
Makes a coffee. Returns the cat.
JOHN
You left this.
BLACKOUT.
JOHN awakes in his bed. One of the cats is staring at him.
Returns the cat.
JOHN
You left this.
BLACKOUT.
JOHN awakes in his bed. One of the cats is staring at him.
Returns the cat.
JOHN
You left this.
BLACKOUT.
JOHN awakes in his bed. One of the cats is staring at him.
Returns the cat.
BLACKOUT.
JOHN awakes in his bed. One of the cats is staring at him.
JOHN
No
He looks toward Janice's apartment.
A long pause.
He nods to himself.
JOHN
Today is the day I'll end things. I'll move on with my life. I swear it—I must.
He walks into the kitchen.
The cat is chewing the gum.
JOHN
No no no no-
He's carrying this stupid cat.
Calling Janice.
Looking for a vet.
Trying CPR despite having no idea how.
Doing everything.
Too late.
JOHN cries.
BLACKOUT.
SCENE EIGHT
JOHN is sitting in the apartment.
Everything is gone.
No cats.
No groceries.
No Janice.
He reaches into his pocket.
Nothing.
He Checks again.
The gum is gone.
NARRATOR
John never saw Janice again.
BLACKOUT.
The End.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
Hi!
I just read your story, and I’m obsessed! Your writing is incredible, and I kept imagining how cool it would be as a comic.
I’m a professional commissioned artist, and I’d love to work with you to turn it into one, if you’re into the idea, of course! I think it would look absolutely stunning.
Feel free to message me on Disc0rd (laurendoesitall) if you’re interested. Can’t wait to hear from you!
Best,
Lauren
Reply