A PLAY IN TWO THIRDS OF AN ACT
ALEX: Psssssst. Hey Isadore. I think we'd better bust this joint.
ISADORE: Shhhhhh. I'm busy here.
ALEX: No, listen to me. We are not long for this world if we stay here. I got a bad feeling about this house.
ISADORE: Oh man. Can't you just relax for one hour, 'fraidy rat? Me and Allison here are watchin' Jon Stewart and Colbert, for God's sake? Best things on the tube since Beevis and Butthead went off the air.
ALEX: You ever see Rachael Maddow? Now that broad is hot.
ISADORE: Hey, She's a lesbo, man.
ALEX: Cannot be.
ISADORE: She is. And she's out. Says it all over the papers. The New York Times, no less.
ALEX: Told you not to read the New York Times. It's trash. Left wing balderdash.
ISADORE: What the hell does that mean?
ALEX: How many times have I told you that maybe you should occasionally pick up a dictionary, bonehead?
ISADORE: Are you crazy? I can't even drag one of those refrigerators off the shelf. They weigh a ton. And they call that a book? And will you please just shut your trap 'cause I'm watchin' some high class entertainment here.
ALEX: Nope. Not Rachael Maddow. Not a hot one like that. Just cannot be.
ALLISON: Hey, Izzy, Alex, could the two of you possibly shut your pie holes up for once? Is that like possible?
ALEX: Oh, now there's some nice lady like talk. I think Allison here has just outed herself.
ISADORE: Come to think of it, when was the last time you were on a date, Ms. Allison with the biggest hooters on the planet.
ALLISON: Very funny, Mr. Isadore, with the smallest...
ISADORE: SHUT UP MS. DEBBIE DOES DALLAS. JUST SHUT IT UP NOW, YOU HEAR?
ALEX: Shhhhhh. You Dumbos are gonna wake Trish and that is just what we do not need right now.
ISADORE: You kiddin'? Those pills she takes can knock her out for a week. You ever see how many pills that chick can take? She's got a virtual pharmacy in her bathroom.
ALEX: Could you guys listen to me for one second here, please? This gal is onto to us. Hear that? ON TO US! By election day we are all dead rats, thrown into the garbage with all the rest of the phony ballots, trust me.
ISADORE: Nah. Impossible. This here is a peace and love chick. Haven't you seen the peace signs all over her house? Everywhere. They are everywhere, man. Like it's 1965 or something. Sickening. Like she's Janis Joplin only with no hair. Plus she's for Obama and Biden plus she's got Buddhas all over the front yard and the back and I'm tellin' you this gal is not killin' a creature on this planet. Not even an ant. One of those kind.
ALEX: Oh yeah? Well what and who did I see whilst you two were sleeping all cozy in her cookie drawer last week? Huh? Huh?!
ALEX: Oh wow, we sure left a lot of droppins' in that drawer, didn't we Allison?
ALLISON: Thousands, huh Isadore?
ISADORE: More like millions! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
ALLISON: Hahahahahahahahahahahaha!
ALEX: Okay, so you guys laugh while Rome is burning, which I have no idea what that means but let me show you something.
ISADORE: Before Colbert is over?
ALEX: Yes, before Colbert is over if you know what's good for you. Follow me.
ALLISON AND ISADORE FOLLOW ALEX INTO THE KITCHEN.
ALEX: You two ever been in THIS drawer before?
ISADORE: I was goin' in tomorrow.
ALEX: Well, I suggest you take a look right now or there may not be a tomorrow!
ALLISON: You are so dramatic, Alex. So dramatic.
ALEX OPENS THE DRAWER AND ALLISON AND ISADORE ENTER. AFTER A MOMENT.....
(FROM INSIDE THE DRAWER.) "Yikes! Traps!
THEY BOTH RUN OUT AND SLAM THE DRAWER BEHIND THEM. ALLISON SLINKS SLOWLY DOWN TO THE LINOLEUM WITH TEARS STREAMING DOWN HER CHEEKS.
ALLISON: I can't believe it. Why would she do this to us? She loves peace and she loves love. Plus I like her house soooooo much. Did you see her moisturizers? And serums? They are heaven in a bottle. She has everything a girl could want. And she can't share? Why would she do this to innocent little..."
ALEX: Rats. We're rats Allison. Look at us. You'd need an ocean of moisturizer to look presentable to the human race.
ALLISON: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I knew it. They hate me. The entire human race hates me. Because I'm ugly. And rough. Once, just once couldn't somebody, anybody...exfoliate me? Oh, the life of a rat is such a sad and lonely road, isn't it Isadore?
ISADORE: Can I please just finish watching Colbert?"
ALEX: Gather your things and let's get out before dawn."
ALLISON: We have no things.
ISADORE: Maybe this Trish gal will come back as a rat and then she'll see how tough life can really be.
ALLISON: I'm ugly, aren't I? Just plain ugly. Viggo Mortenson would never give me a second look. Never.
ALEX: Aw Allison. You are the most beautiful rat I ever encountered.
ALLISON: Really?
LONG PAUSE.
ALEX AND ISADORE: Sure. Absolutely. Rat extraordinaire.
ALEX: Look at that long completely creepy tail. Gotta love it.
THE THREE OF THEM HEAD OUT THROUGH A SCREEN THEN TURN BACK TO LOOK AT THE HOUSE ONE MORE TIME.
ALLISON: Bitch.
ISADORE: With a great TV.
ALEX: Hey, you know where we're never been? Mar Vista.
ISADORE: I hear they got big houses there. And it's right near Costco. Where they get those gigantic sacks of food. And I'm talkin' gigantic.
ALEX: And they got triple sized jars of lotion, Allison.
ALLISON: Really? Loads and loads of lotion? Well then, it's On to Mar Vista for me!
ALLISON, ALEX AND ISADORE: Weeeeeee're off to see Mar Vista
The prettiest city on earth.
Because, because, because, because...................................
AND FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE...
TRISH: Did I just hear singing? Oh my God, these pills are driving me crazy.
SHE PICKS UP HER PHONE AND DIALS.
TRISH: Hi, it's me...Hey, could you please give me a ride to Costco tomorrow? I don't know, just had a feeling I'd like to go. Get some giant bags of something................................
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Asleep At The Squeal
I think it was twenty, no maybe thirty mice that came into my bedroom after I had taken my critical trial pills that knock me out completely and these little critters carried me out to the backyard like a Mrs. Gulliver or possibly a Mrs. Travels and they left me there...LEFT ME THERE...to sleep it off, meaning the pills... And I woke up as the sun rose on my face and slowly I opened my eyes and it took me a moment to realize just where I was but it took longer than that to understand how I had gotten there. Gracie, the dog, was licking my toes and looking up at me as if to say, "Girl, you are a mess. You have got to start taking care of yourself." This from my stinky but lovely little dog and I walked into the house then into my bedroom and was shocked to find the entire bed covered with mouse droppings and little chewed corners and I put two and two together and realized that everything that's gone on in my life in the last week has been rodent related. And you wonder why I haven't been blogging. Who can blog with creatures running from one end of the room to another while you're trying to write? IS THIS ANYWAY TO LIVE? Well, I guess it's one way. Not a way that I would have chosen. No sirree. What I would have chosen would have been to be signing my new novel in Barnes and Nobel in New York City and having actual food, maybe some fish and asparagus and potatoes at some nice restaurant with my book agent and a few friends and maybe stopping for a hot dog at a little stand in the village on my way to see some underground jazz because I can eat anything I want and I do and at the jazz club I'm going to have at least two margaritas and a whole lot of chips and...........
But actually I am plagued by mice AND these pills I am taking are sucking the daylight out of me. Meaning, I can't seem to stay awake. However, I had a thought that if I took the pills at night maybe I would sleep at night like a normal person and then could be awake in the daytime LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! So I ran this by my doctor and he said fine but he'd have to run it by the company. THE COMPANY? Oh, that's right. I am a guinea pig. I always forget that. And I am ruled by the company. If the company wants me to hop on one foot, I will hop on one foot. I am but a number. In fact my pills are called XL880. Not Little Buddy or Rachael La Mode but XL880. Sound like science fiction to you? Am I living on The Enterprise or what? Where am I? Mice carrying me around the house. Pills making me sleep. And this is going to cure me? I don't even know who The Company consist of. What if Dick Cheney owns The Company? THEN WHAT? Because where has that guy been for the last year? And then will Sarah Palin own it? OHMYGOD. I would have to take orders from Sarah Palin? All right, this is way too much. I really think it's getting close that time when I rip off all the damn pain patches, throw out all the pain pills, pack up a little suitcase and get myself to some peaceful place, maybe Carpinteria and just run around until I drop. To hell with The Company. they don't care about ME. It's for the greater good. So I sleep for eight weeks and get woken up by a rodent kissing me on the lips. Not the Disney movie I grew up with. But, hey, it's all interesting.
OH HELL, IT SUCKS. THIS WHOLE MOUSE PILL THING SUCKS THERE IS NO WAY AROUND IT. Oh sure, tell me my hair is coming in so quickly and looks so full even though it's only a quarter inch from my scalp. Come on, tell me how good I look with no meat on my bones. Hey, you know what I really want you to tell me..........THAT IT ALL SUCKS and I got dealt a pretty bad hand.
But first I'd like you to teach me how to play poker. So I can know what a bad hand really means. Always wondered that. Dealt a bad hand. Oh, I'm just rambling. Because, honestly, with the son that I have, I know I was dealt the best of hands. Come rodents come, eat me alive. Drop your droppings everywhere. You can't hurt me. I have something that means more to me than any stupid pillow case or missing potato chips.
Ah. I feel better now. Sometimes you have to run around in a little crazy circle like a dog before you can land in that "just right" spot. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.
But actually I am plagued by mice AND these pills I am taking are sucking the daylight out of me. Meaning, I can't seem to stay awake. However, I had a thought that if I took the pills at night maybe I would sleep at night like a normal person and then could be awake in the daytime LIKE A NORMAL PERSON! So I ran this by my doctor and he said fine but he'd have to run it by the company. THE COMPANY? Oh, that's right. I am a guinea pig. I always forget that. And I am ruled by the company. If the company wants me to hop on one foot, I will hop on one foot. I am but a number. In fact my pills are called XL880. Not Little Buddy or Rachael La Mode but XL880. Sound like science fiction to you? Am I living on The Enterprise or what? Where am I? Mice carrying me around the house. Pills making me sleep. And this is going to cure me? I don't even know who The Company consist of. What if Dick Cheney owns The Company? THEN WHAT? Because where has that guy been for the last year? And then will Sarah Palin own it? OHMYGOD. I would have to take orders from Sarah Palin? All right, this is way too much. I really think it's getting close that time when I rip off all the damn pain patches, throw out all the pain pills, pack up a little suitcase and get myself to some peaceful place, maybe Carpinteria and just run around until I drop. To hell with The Company. they don't care about ME. It's for the greater good. So I sleep for eight weeks and get woken up by a rodent kissing me on the lips. Not the Disney movie I grew up with. But, hey, it's all interesting.
OH HELL, IT SUCKS. THIS WHOLE MOUSE PILL THING SUCKS THERE IS NO WAY AROUND IT. Oh sure, tell me my hair is coming in so quickly and looks so full even though it's only a quarter inch from my scalp. Come on, tell me how good I look with no meat on my bones. Hey, you know what I really want you to tell me..........THAT IT ALL SUCKS and I got dealt a pretty bad hand.
But first I'd like you to teach me how to play poker. So I can know what a bad hand really means. Always wondered that. Dealt a bad hand. Oh, I'm just rambling. Because, honestly, with the son that I have, I know I was dealt the best of hands. Come rodents come, eat me alive. Drop your droppings everywhere. You can't hurt me. I have something that means more to me than any stupid pillow case or missing potato chips.
Ah. I feel better now. Sometimes you have to run around in a little crazy circle like a dog before you can land in that "just right" spot. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Of Mice and Me
What the hell happened to my sweet little life? Okay, I have cancer, I can't eat or drink almost anything. I CAN'T DRINK! (I just had to repeat that one.) Can't swim. Can't go out at night unless I carry my IV with me. WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THAT? And now...NOW...Now I have either one tiny mouse or a family of tiny mice moving in and taking over my house. Right now, right at this moment, one of these mice, (if there is more than one) is fast asleep between my screen and my window right above my pillow. He's tucked in the corner and I was staring at him and he woke up just long enough to yawn and give me what looked to be a WINK. Kid you not. And I have to admit...He was pretty damn cute.
HOWEVER...The other day I opened the linen closet and out came a huge pile of mouse poop and a completely chewed up pillow case. Must have been very cozy in there. Now here's the thing...If it's only one mouse why should I wreck his life? Why not let him live and poop where he wants and chew up a few things and get cozy. He's not really hurting anyone and those cute little ears...But somehow it seems wrong and a little scary if there is a whole family of mice taking over my household because then the poop possibilities seem a bit frightening and the mouse brigade could chew my entire house up until everything in it is in tatters and some things, like my yard, already look a crazy old lady with a million cats lives here because I haven't been very good at taking care of things this past year. Someone said maybe the mice will make me a beautiful ball gown like Cinderella or one of those Disney princesses but even in my weakened state I knew that was not going to happen. Especially since all that these mice seem to do is sleep and chew and poop. Not the dress making type. Just my luck. So now I have to make the decision...To kill or not to kill. Honestly, I don't think I can do it...Kill those cute little things. It's like shooting a moose from a helicopter. Hmmmm, who is it that does that? Just read about her somewhere. Oh right, the next possible Vice President of the United States who can't even name a newspaper she reads. Now how did i get onto that topic. Oh right, to me shooting a moose from a helicopter seems like such an unfair disadvantage to the poor moose. Doesn't stand a chance. If you're going to kill an animal it does seem like you should at least give it a chance to save themselves like run away or fly away, depending on what type of creature it is. Just like with mice. They don't have much of a chance. Who can resist cheese? If someone put a giant piece of gouda in my yard I wouldn't even notice the big silver pipe holding it down and I'd walk over and take a big bite of that gouda without even going to get a cracker and in a moment...SQUASH...I'd be a goner.
Okay. I've decided. The mice/mouse shall live...For the time being. However, if I wake up one morning covered in creatures I'm going to give this decision some more thought. My decisions used to be much more simple...And fun. Like, what should we have for dinner? That was a fun decision. Had nothing to do with death. Except possibly for the dead fish I might have cooked that night. Didn't put a lot of thought into that. Probably should have.
Now I'm thinking about that moose again. Must be the debate tonight. Maybe the mouse would like to watch it with me. Maybe we could be a little makeshift family. Me and my mice. We could all get cozy. Chew on my blankets.
Hmmmm. I wonder if they're Republicans? And no, that would not make a difference whether I kill them or not. You have to trust me on that.
All this talk of killing has exhausted me. Peace and love.
Unless, of course, there is just way too much poop. Then to hell with it.
HOWEVER...The other day I opened the linen closet and out came a huge pile of mouse poop and a completely chewed up pillow case. Must have been very cozy in there. Now here's the thing...If it's only one mouse why should I wreck his life? Why not let him live and poop where he wants and chew up a few things and get cozy. He's not really hurting anyone and those cute little ears...But somehow it seems wrong and a little scary if there is a whole family of mice taking over my household because then the poop possibilities seem a bit frightening and the mouse brigade could chew my entire house up until everything in it is in tatters and some things, like my yard, already look a crazy old lady with a million cats lives here because I haven't been very good at taking care of things this past year. Someone said maybe the mice will make me a beautiful ball gown like Cinderella or one of those Disney princesses but even in my weakened state I knew that was not going to happen. Especially since all that these mice seem to do is sleep and chew and poop. Not the dress making type. Just my luck. So now I have to make the decision...To kill or not to kill. Honestly, I don't think I can do it...Kill those cute little things. It's like shooting a moose from a helicopter. Hmmmm, who is it that does that? Just read about her somewhere. Oh right, the next possible Vice President of the United States who can't even name a newspaper she reads. Now how did i get onto that topic. Oh right, to me shooting a moose from a helicopter seems like such an unfair disadvantage to the poor moose. Doesn't stand a chance. If you're going to kill an animal it does seem like you should at least give it a chance to save themselves like run away or fly away, depending on what type of creature it is. Just like with mice. They don't have much of a chance. Who can resist cheese? If someone put a giant piece of gouda in my yard I wouldn't even notice the big silver pipe holding it down and I'd walk over and take a big bite of that gouda without even going to get a cracker and in a moment...SQUASH...I'd be a goner.
Okay. I've decided. The mice/mouse shall live...For the time being. However, if I wake up one morning covered in creatures I'm going to give this decision some more thought. My decisions used to be much more simple...And fun. Like, what should we have for dinner? That was a fun decision. Had nothing to do with death. Except possibly for the dead fish I might have cooked that night. Didn't put a lot of thought into that. Probably should have.
Now I'm thinking about that moose again. Must be the debate tonight. Maybe the mouse would like to watch it with me. Maybe we could be a little makeshift family. Me and my mice. We could all get cozy. Chew on my blankets.
Hmmmm. I wonder if they're Republicans? And no, that would not make a difference whether I kill them or not. You have to trust me on that.
All this talk of killing has exhausted me. Peace and love.
Unless, of course, there is just way too much poop. Then to hell with it.
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