SCRATCH THIS.

This is a short play called Going Clean, which I wrote but never did anything with. Instead, it wound up being a vehicle for ideas that I repurposed to craft a different play, Under Investigation, which Buckeye Tree produced in 2007. But I always liked this play, so I felt like sharing it. Feel free to comment and let me know what you think.

The set is in the office of a mob boss type. A man wearing a suit sits behind a big desk before two men in chairs. The chairs have their backs to the audience, so that we can only make out the backs of the two men’s heads. These two men, though, are JOE and LOUIS. They’re muscle. That’s what they do. There is a very long pause before anyone speaks. During this we can see the man in the suit, LEO, is fully frustrated. Finally…

LEO: I don’t get it! I don’t get it! How the… you know? Joe. C’mon. What the… Jesus. I would never have figured this kinda thing for you. You’ve always been so…

JOE: I’ve always been so what, Leo?

LEO: So…reliable.

JOE: Reliable?

LEO: Yeah. I never ever worried about puttin’ you on a job. Never. Could always bank on you to get it done. To take responsibility. To do the thing right.

JOE: You’re sayin’ I was responsible. But not anymore?

LEO: Hey. Don’t you play games with me.  Pause. You guys are a couple a pieces of fucking work, you know? Whose idea was it, anyway, eh? 

LOUIS: It…It wasn’t like that, boss.

LEO: What? It wasn’t like what?

LOUIS: Like you think. What I mean is…it’s not like we planned the thing.

LEO: Oh, I see. (to JOE) Is that the case?

JOE: Yeah. 

LEO: I see. Open and shut, then, you figure. Mm. Well it’s not. It’s not that easy, boys. It’s never that easy. But I’d have thought you two, especially you, Joe, would know better than to have to have me tell ya. See I send you over to this eh…what’s the address? Eh… (He checks a slip of paper on his desk. At the same time, LOUIS checks a slip he has in his pocket.) 3652 N Greenview…

LOUIS: Fifty-two?

LEO: And expecting full well for the job to go down the way it’s supposed to, see? The way it always fucking does as far as I ever knew in my life… And so I call ahead. I put on a real show, see, say some jazz that’ll really send this little son of a bitch reelin,’ and here you guys come along… Here you come in after all the shit I said on this dumb little fuck’s machine and what do you do? What the fuck do you do?

LOUIS: We make our mark.

LEO: Y…What did you say?

LOUIS: We—

LEO: Shut the fuck up. For the love o’ Saint Anthony… Hey, get me a drink.

LOUIS: Wassat, boss?

LEO: Go over there and get me a glass o’ water. C’mon.

LOUIS gets up and crosses to the water cooler, where he removes a small paper cup from the holder and…

LOUIS: You want blue or white?

LEO: What the fuck, this guy. Louis. Just bring me a drink, eh. Is that so hard? (He fills the cup and crosses to LEO.) I want to wet my whistle and this guy’s jerkin’ me around.

Once he arrives at LEO’s side, LEO takes the cup of water and immediately crushes it, all the water squirting everywhere and throws the crumpled cup at LOUIS’ chest.

LEO: (cont’d) This fuckin’ guy. You think you made your mark, eh? Is that it? Joe, is that the story you two are puttin’ on the table?

JOE: Yeah. 

LEO: I see. So that’s the score. You two ragdolls are gonna sit here lookin me in the goddam eye and push off some cockamamie crap about how it is you made your mark, eh? Well, it’s a fine day indeed, friends. Guess Jimmy “Fingers”, Paulie Carpacci, Franko “the Fix” and anybody else ever crossed the family, and we all know who they are…are sittin somewhere’s in hell right here on this very fuckin’ afternoon havin’ a real knockdown, drag-out snowball fight! All 'cuz you two are sittin’ here tellin’ me you went and made your mark.

LOUIS: Hey, boss, you shoulda seen the place. Honestly, we were…We were in a tight spot. 

LEO: You were in a…Jesus. You want tight you should try sittin’ in my fuckin’ seat. Look, I don’t care what the place was like when you got there. What I do know is that when you go on a toss it should most certainly look a damn sight worse for wear when you leave. That is if you do what you’re supposed to do. See that’s why they call it tossin’ the joint…because you go in and you throw the place upside down. You turn the whole fuckin’ thing on its ear, see? Stuff gets outta sorts. Everything where it ought not to be and nothing where it should be. And mind you, I’m not talkin' vandalism here. No sir. There’s no ethics in that kinda thing, leave it to the hoods and the gangs on the streets. No sir, I’m talkin' about business here. The business of keeping the organization running smoothly, with all the parts doing their part. So don’t get smart with me, the two o' you. What we got here is plain and simple. I sent you to do a job. You come back here and tell me you did exactly the opposite. You give me a bunch of lip about how you were in a tight spot, and how you made your mark. But what you don’t see is that this is not about you two fucks. This is about the thing at large. The whole shebang. The entire shootin’ match. And you blew it. Really Joe. You make me sad.

Long pause. 

JOE: You through?

LEO says nothing, but looks at JOE, waiting for more.

JOE: See, Louis here’s right. You shoulda seen the place. It was beautiful, you know, like…poetry. It made you think about, like you say…the whole shootin’ match. Cause there we were, a couple of tough guys, standing over something a man could be proud of. 

Something that a guy can point to and say look at that. And know it was all his doin’. It was ours. And do you want to know what it made me think? It made me think about just what it is we do. Or rather what it is we say we do. You get me? 

LEO: uh….

JOE: Leo, I’m talkin’ about what it is we say we do for a living. I’m talkin’ about the words, Leo. And about what they really mean. You say we’re supposed to go in and toss the place upside down, see, turn it on its ear. You go on about the ethics of bein’ above vandalism, of makin' it about more than bustin’ the place up the way any thug on the street could do. You tell us about playin’ our part for the organization, file in you say…do what you’re supposed to and go home. Plain and simple you say. But it’s not really. Not if you think about it. If you think just for a second, you begin to see other angles. Suddenly, we’re in a bit of a tight spot, 'cuz this place is already tossed. So we gotta wonder how it is we’re gonna play our part, see. Right then and there, we gotta size up the situation. And that’s when it hit us. Once Louis said the words, it was clear as day. Cleanin’ up was the only way to make our mark. Right there, we had to come up with our own parts to play, Leo. And now that we have…we can’t see needin’ this life anymore.

LEO: What? Wait a second. What are you… You ain’t sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’? You tellin’ me you want out? You tellin’ me you guys want to go what? Be garbage men? Janitors? Pick up people’s shit for a living now? 

Long Pause. JOE nudges LOUIS and they both throw their ski masks on LEO’s desk. They head for the door.

JOE: I’m tellin’ ya  we’re cleanin’ up our act, Leo. And if I were you I’d take it without causin’ a fuss. I don’t want you or any of the boys ever comin’ near Louis or I… Way I see it we been good to you. We done our part for the organization. No hard feelins. You don’t…got any hard feelins, do you, Leo?

LEO: (Long pause.) Joe…

JOE: I didn’t think so. Good luck to ya, Leo. So long. (He exits.)

LOUIS: Also, Boss? (LEO just stares.) We went to thirty-six, forty two Greenview. Just, eh…FYI. (LEO just stares. LOUIS exits.)

Lights out.

FACING THE WALL

So here I am, another day sitting at my desk trying to chisel away at a new play I’m working on, to no avail. I am up against the wall. And no matter how much advice you get about what to do when this happens, I can tell you that if any of that ever works, it’s a matter of sheer luck. The fact is the wall is bigger than you, and it’s unmovable. The best hope you have is to walk the length of it in hopes of finding a break where you can get through, or an end so you can go around. Either way, though, when you get on the other side you’ll be in a different place than where you were headed when you hit it.

What do I mean by all this fancy figurative talk? I mean fuck it. Take a break. Go enjoy the day. Thinking...but I have a deadline to meet, I don’t have time? Whatever, then push through or do one of your writing exercises and write something shitty. It’s your call. But I firmly believe that it’s better to write harder having taken the break and gotten a fresh perspective than it is to write under the influence of a clouded perspective and produce crap. 

Easy for me to say. I don’t have a deadline. I sorta wish I did. Might force me to just get this piece of shit done already.

FOOD FOR THOUGHT.

Ever wondered where creativity comes from? Well, I’ll tell you...it’s not in the water, so don’t waste your time with that. It’s in junk food, beer and snackage. It’s a simple fact that I am far more creative when I’m snacking than when I’m not. Or, I snack far more when I’m creative than when I’m not. But either way, the two are connected. 

So, in case there are those of you who also want to be more creative, I’ve decided to share some of my gems. Here is a list of the food or beverage and the kind of creative activity one might expect it to yield. That one being me. For you, I don’t know. 

Cheez-its: High rate of return. Each bite-sized cracker contains a jolt of creativity. And it’s exponential, because you can never eat just a handful. 

(Page count—up to 15 per serving.)

Coke: If there is no beer or you’re in some situation wherein you’re not allowed the luxury of beer...Coke is it. And definitely if you’re in for soda there is no substitute. I drank a Pepsi once instead because it was all there was. Trust me, if that’s the case, choose death (of your creative project), because it’s going to suck if it’s written under the influence of Pepsi anyway. 

(Page count—up to 5 per serving.)

Beer: Nuff said. 

(Page count—whose counting?)

Chocolate milk: Underestimated. But definitely a standby. Even more underestimated? The wonder of chocolate milk combined with Cheez-its. Not joking. 

(Page count—up to 2.5 per serving.)

Hard-boiled eggs with hot sauce: Alright, this one I picked up from a friend, and I thought it was a little nuts. But man, if you aren’t planning on being near anyone 6-12 hours after, go for it. 

(Page count—up to 3 per serving, 5 if you count the productivity that will come later, if you know what I mean.)

French fries: Awful. They’re good for a lot of things, but they’re not creative in the slightest. And no, adding chili and cheese doesn’t help.

(Page count—0.)

Nachos: I’m sorry, did someone say Nachos? If so, I think there might be somebody reading this over your shoulder. Act natural, and restart. Then throw your coffee over your left shoulder. Feel the creative juices flowing? Hell yeah, nachos are awesome.

(Page count—up to 1 per serving, but it’s worth it.)

SCRATCH THIS.

Sorry. Scratch that. I meant for the headline to be Scratch that. My mistake. 

Anyway. Recently, in trying to think of a new show to write, I pulled down a box of old writings. I have many boxes like this (maybe too many), filled with everything from scrap shreds of paper with lone ideas scribbled down, to full folders bulging with pages written, revised and re-written. 

I’ve decided to make this a regular entry topic on this blog, under which I will share excerpts from my back pages. Let’s begin with some play ideas I found. These are in no particular chronology or order. Enjoy.

1. 1.An existential comedy about a man who, after searching the Earth far and wide for the meaning of life, finally finds it in the heel of an old pair of deck shoes. But, before he gets a chance to enjoy the discovery, dies of high cholesterol and is reincarnated as a hair inside someone’s nose.
   

2. 2.A slapstick psychological thriller about a mob boss who accidentally puts a hit out on himself. Title: Unorganized Crime.
   

3. 3.Imagine an elderly superhero whose powers aren’t     what they used to be. Who can never remember where they left the top to their outfit. And who has had it up to here with the neighbors letting their dog poop in the front garden. Possible hero name — Crab Po’boy.