Thursday, August 20, 2015

Untitled Play - Scene 5 Part 1 - Completely Rewritten - Rough Draft

(In Walk Cousins 1 and 2, older daughters of Uncle and Aunt. Cousin 1, a west-coast doctor and wears as much maturity as possible as a pose. She is 30 and rail thin, but her dark hair is beginning to have grey highlights. Cousin 2, 28, is a bit thicker-set, but quite physically fit and tan from nearly ten years living in Israel. Aunt sees her daughters and literally breaks down weeping. Everybody else laughs. They come up to their mother and hug her from either side.)

Aunt: (through sobs to everybody) Why didn't you tell me they were coming into town?

Uncle: Your son wanted to keep this a secret.

Aunt: You all knew?

(Everybody awkwardly nods their heads)

Aunt: (suddenly angry at them all) How could you keep this a secret from me???

Uncle: What? Are you not happy your children are here?

Aunt: If I knew they were coming into town I'd have gotten ready for them!

Uncle: What do you need to do to get ready? Just make their beds and we'll make them lunch tomorrow!

Aunt: They don't know where we put the bedsheets now!

Cousin 2: Relax Mom, we've been able to make our beds for a quarter-century.

Aunt: We redid the entire house last year and I've been dreaming about showing it to you the whole time. Now it's a mess!

Cousin 1: I'm sure it's gorgeous.

Aunt: All we have in the fridge is leftover chicken!

Cousin 1: We'll buy something tomorrow morning.

Cousin 5 (entering): No you won't. It's Shabbos.

Cousin 2: (looks over to Cousin 5) Abba (Dad) warned me about you. Come over here.

(Cousin 5 goes over to hug her sisters, hugs Cousin 2 first) 

Cousin 2: I love your skirt!

Cousin 5: Thanks!

Cousin 2: The Charedi girls in Israel don't look nearly this beautiful.

Cousin 5: (disappointed) Oh... (unconsciously puts her hands over herself to cover herself up) 

Cousin 1: Don't worry, you still look plenty tzniyustic (modest).

Cousin 5: Aw... thanks! (hugs Cousin 1. Within a second of when they go in for a hug, Cousin 1 pulls back, suddenly quite nauseous.) Excuse me, I have to head to the bathroom... (runs out of room)

Dad (jokingly): Oh don't tell me she's pregnant. (long awkward pause) 

Son 1: Well shit...

Cousin 3: None of you were supposed to know until Sunday so when she announces it, act surprised.

Son 1: Who's the father?

Cousin 3: (immediately, so that no speculation starts) The new guy.

Son 2: Who's the new guy?

Uncle: (with a slight hint of pride) Another doctor at the hospital.

Son 1: (chuckling with barely contained relish) He's divorced with grown up kids.

Dad: Her fiancee has grayer hair than any of us. When she brought him here over Labor Day I figured it was to set him up with her grandmother.

Son 1: Well, speaking of the fact that he's old,... not that that I care but is he...

Uncle: (interrupting) He's converting.

Son 1: No, I know that, I mean, is he... (makes a motion as though it's obvious)

Uncle: I don't understand.

(this time Son 1 makes a scissor motion, Uncle buries head in hands)

Aunt: You know, I never asked... Do you know? (turns to Cousin 2)

Cousin 2: She never mentioned one way or the other.

Dad: Well this is probably something you're going to need to know.

Mom: (irritated at Dad) You don't need to know anything.

Son 1: But don't you want to find out?

Son 2: I know I do.

Mom: Don't ask her. Please.

Cousin 1: (enters) What do you want to ask me? Whether I'm pregnant?

(nervous laughter all around except for Son 1)
     
Son 1: No, actually we figured that out about a minute ago. What we want to know is whether your new boy is...

Cousin 1: Jewish? No, he told me he was interested in converting before we even started dating.

Son 1: No, not Jewish. Is he...

Cousin 1: Black? Yes, you know that, so what?

Son 1: No not that either. Is he?...

Cousin 1: Is he?...

Son 1: Is he?...

(Cousin 1 looks at him as though to say 'I don't understand, say it out loud...) 

Son 1: (exasperated so just saying it) Has he had his dick cut?!

Cousin 1: Oh! No, he actually hasn't.

Son 2: Ew. You're not going to make him go through with that are you?

Cousin 1: Brisses are different for adults.

Son 2: Do we castrate the adults?

Cousin 1: No, they just take a needle and prick it like a blood test so a few drops of blood come out like a blood test.

(collective gasps and exclamations) 

Son 2: (loud enough to be over the din) That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard!

Cousin 1: He's a surgeon. He does worse all the time!

Son 2: How can you all be OK with a religion that sees newborn boys and feels the urge to mutilate their penises?

(more collective gasps and exclamations) 

Dad: (loud enough to be over the din) Why are you so hostile to everything we do?

Son 2: Why are you so hostile to the idea that maybe we shouldn't sever the genitals of defenseless babies?

(the daughters leave the room with their mother) 

Uncle: (as though he's been waiting the whole time for the chance to strike back) And how can you be OK with supporting a religion that severs the genitals of girls when they're already teenagers?

Son 2: It's not the whole religion, it's just a small part of it.

Uncle: It's not that small.

Son 2: You can't paint all of Islam like that.

Uncle: Why not? They do it to us!

Son 2: So you should just be as bad as they are?

Uncle: There's no way we could ever be as bad as they are!

Son 2: Well what do we do? We stick a million of them in a piece of land smaller than Manhattan. How is that not like the ghettos?

(Mom's and Uncle's lines at the same time)

Uncle: Don't you dare use that word to compare us to that.  

Mom: How can you be so hateful to your own people?

Son 2: (To Mom) Because it's my people doing these things!

Uncle: Oh, so we're only your people when you get to criticize us?

Son 2: You criticize me all the time, and I'm your people!

Uncle: That's because you want your own people to die!

Son 2: Ah, you see?! There it is! Just because I want peace I'm no different than people who want to butcher women and commit genocide!

Dad: Oh, so you admit that they want to commit genocide?

Son 2: Well after what we've done to them, who can blame them?

(exclamations of exasperation all around from Mom, Dad, Uncle) 

Son 1: Alright, this whole fight is bullshit. I'm going to the other room.

Mom: Can you call your cousins back in here when you go?

Son 1: I want to talk to them!

Mom: They still haven't said hello to their father.

Son 1: Why's that my responsibility? He's foaming at the mouth right now about his nephew riding a Hezbollah rocket into Tel Aviv.

Uncle: (suddenly realizing how badly he lost it) No,... no, I'm done. Can you call them in?

Son 1: I don't think I need to...

(enter all three daughters...)

Daughter 1: Is everything alright in here?


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