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breakinglight11So this weekend I participated in Theatre@First's 24-hour play festival, where I wrote a script to be rehearsed by a director and actor team for a charity performance raising funds to donate to hurricane relief. I always wanted to try something like that, so I was delighted to be asked to participate!
Here is the script I wrote. I banged this out in a few hours the night before the festival, so it is... rough. I present it here in its original, unedited form. It's wordy, as my first drafts often are, and the ending is a little draggy. But I focused on making it funny, and that I think I managed. I was pretty happy with how it came out for something banged together in twenty-four hours, particularly with how the awesome actors managed to get off book between 8am and 8pm!
Love is Dead
or, You Can’t Spell “Necromancer” without “Romance”
Written by Phoebe Roberts
Directed by Mike Haddad
ROMILDA, a necromancer getting ready for a date (F) - Shannon Keane
GOBBY, her shambling undead zombie servant (M) - Bill DeRusha
~~~
(ROMILDA sits primping to prepare for her date while her dead friend GOBBY looks on.)
ROMILDA:
What do you think, Gobby? Would you say I look… enchanting?
GOBBY:
I think you should put the snake hair back on and take a good, long look in the mirror.
ROMILDA:
Do you want to get chained up in the dungeon again?
GOBBY:
At least it’s quiet down there. And the rats only want to gnaw off my extremities, instead of flaying every last scrap of flesh from my bones, Romilda.
ROMILDA:
Ugh. You drink one guy’s blood, for one unholy ritual, and you never hear the end of it!
GOBBY:
You would have if you hadn’t raised me from the dead!
ROMILDA:
Hey, don’t make me regret that. I dragged you back into that meat sack you call a mortal coil, and I can toss you out again! You want to go back into the lake of fire?
GOBBY:
Okay, okay. I just don’t know why you make me do this. Help you get ready for your Internet date.
ROMILDA:
I need a second pair of eyes, and the crows pecked them out of all my other zombies.
GOBBY:
I don’t know why you bother. Considering that love is dead.
ROMILDA:
Good thing I’m the world’s greatest necromancer, then. I’m lonely, okay?
GOBBY:
What am I, chopped liver?
ROMILDA:
And kidneys, and lungs, and so forth.
GOBBY:
Touché. But if you wanted visitors, maybe you shouldn’t have installed that moat, and that twenty-foot-high tangle of thorn bushes through which no mortal steel can cut.
ROMILDA:
I’m just choosy! My last few dates have been awful.
GOBBY:
So what are you doing wrong?
ROMILDA:
What makes you think it’s me?
GOBBY:
Who drank all my blood again? Some might consider that too forward for a first date.
ROMILDA:
Look at this profile picture! Who could resist me?
(She pulls it up on her phone and shows him.)
GOBBY:
Ooh, you got your good going-out fangs in.
ROMILDA:
I know, right? And this one seems promising for once! He’s the scourge of all seven hell dimensions, and he’s got a full head of pins in his picture.
GOBBY:
Really? All seven? Careful, guys always exaggerate on those sites. I bet he’s lost half those pins in the decade since that picture was taken, and he hasn’t ravaged more than five hells, tops.
ROMILDA:
Anything’s better than the last guy. He just wanted to cut my head off and exchange it for six snow moose hides and the mayor’s daughter’s hand in marriage.
GOBBY:
I hate it when that happens.
ROMILDA:
It wasn’t a total loss. I did eat his heart to steal his courage.
GOBBY:
All those guys, that you chewed up and spat out. Don’t talk to me about loneliness, miss love ‘em and eat ‘em. You try meeting anybody at all when your very existence is a crime against nature.
ROMILDA:
Oh, don’t be a drama corpse. You’re a crime against God, tops. Lots of things in nature love dead stuff!
GOBBY:
Not this dead stuff.
ROMILDA:
What about the revenant speed-dating event you went to in the mass grave? That one corpse was beautiful! She used to be a model when she was alive!
GOBBY:
She was nothing but skin and bones. I like a little meat left on ‘em.
ROMILDA:
Okay, what about that she-beast you went out with last month? The terrifying nether-hulk with the head of a beetle?
GOBBY:
She just wanted me for my body. She needed a warm, nutrient-rich environment to lay her eggs in. I wasn’t ready for that level of commitment.
ROMILDA:
I don’t blame you.
GOBBY:
And you’ve never had to deal with body parts rotting off in the middle of the date!
ROMILDA:
Has that happened to you?
GOBBY:
My metacarpal joint flew off mid-conversation. Right when her mandibles were open!
ROMILDA:
Well… that was unlucky. You could always dredge the water at the bottom of the gorge! There’s always somebody down there, and you know they were desperate!
GOBBY:
If you ask me, I think you should be building up the existing relationships in your life.
ROMILDA:
What existing relationships?
GOBBY:
What else do you keep those the souls captured in crystals pulsating with otherworldly energy for?
ROMILDA:
I try to make conversation, but they most just scream forever. I told you, I’m alone.
GOBBY:
How can you think that? This place is crawling with apparitions. I mean, the number of murdered child ghosts alone!
ROMILDA:
Oh, all they want is attention. And it’s not like they stick around for long.
GOBBY:
I don’t know, sometimes they linger when they’re trying to strip away your sanity. What about that one in the corner? She’s been in agony over there for months now.
(ROMILDA turns to look.)
ROMILDA:
Oh, yes, very terrifying, little Milly! I can turn my face inside out too, but you don’t see me showing off all the time, do you?
(Pause. She makes a face.)
Oh, very nice! Now put those intestines back where they belong, or I’ll banish you to the dimension of ravenous gizzard weasels again!
(Pause.)
Ewwwwwww!
GOBBY:
Don’t stare. It just encourages her.
(Their heads snap away.)
ROMILDA:
You see what I have to deal with?
GOBBY:
You wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t cursed Boris.
ROMILDA:
Ugh! Boris! Don’t even talk to me about Boris. He was a pig.
GOBBY:
And who’s fault was that?
ROMILDA:
Don’t blame this on me! He was the one that had to go and make me fall in love, and then run away with that chupacabra creature! That hussy sucked more than goats, I’ll tell you.
(She goes over to the boar’s head mounted on the wall.)
ROMILDA:
Oh, Boris. Why did you have to go and break my heart?
GOBBY:
Usually when people break up, they don’t like their ex hanging around anymore.
ROMILDA:
As a memento of the beautiful times we shared together. And as a warning to the others.
GOBBY:
Well. If you have to bring them home on the first date…
ROMILDA:
Well, I think I’m ready. Don’t wait up for me.
GOBBY:
No rest for the revenant! You go and have a good time with your fresh meat. I’ll just stay here. Do chores. Scrub the dungeon walls, feed the eldritch tentacular horror in the moat.
ROMILDA:
Remember, he likes the eyeballs best.
GOBBY:
I just hope he’s not in a cuddling mood.
(GOBBY shudders and goes to exit. ROMILDA’s phone buzzes and she looks at it.)
ROMILDA:
You’ve got to be kidding.
GOBBY:
Something happen to dear Hell Scourge?
ROMILDA:
Something came up. Urgent emergency at work. I guess one of the hells became un-ravaged. Yeah, right.
(She slumps down dejectedly.)
GOBBY:
Aw, I’m sorry. I bet he was a loser. He probably had no needles in his face at all!
ROMILDA:
Oh, stop it. You’re probably right. It is my fault. I do scare them all away.
GOBBY:
So what? You’re the mightiest necromancer on this plane. People should be scared of you! That means you’re doing it right!
ROMILDA:
Do you mean that?
GOBBY:
I promise you. You scare the hell out of me.
ROMILDA:
Aw, really?
GOBBY:
It’s why I never tried to make your zombie horde rise up and rebel against you for the misery you’ve inflicted upon us. I know you’d crush us with a thought.
ROMILDA:
You always know the right thing to say. Still sucks to be alone, though.
GOBBY:
That’s the great thing about being surrounded by the undead. We never go away!
ROMILDA:
You promise?
GOBBY:
As long as you don’t banish me to a hell dimension. Do you promise?
ROMILDA:
I promise.
GOBBY:
Then even when the last scrap of meat rots off my frame, this chattering skeleton will be here for you.
(They sit together.)
ROMILDA:
Chattering is right. Maybe you’ll talk less when your tongue falls out.
GOBBY:
No wonder you like dead people. They can’t run away from you.
ROMILDA:
So I guess you were right after all. Love is dead.
Here is the script I wrote. I banged this out in a few hours the night before the festival, so it is... rough. I present it here in its original, unedited form. It's wordy, as my first drafts often are, and the ending is a little draggy. But I focused on making it funny, and that I think I managed. I was pretty happy with how it came out for something banged together in twenty-four hours, particularly with how the awesome actors managed to get off book between 8am and 8pm!
Love is Dead
or, You Can’t Spell “Necromancer” without “Romance”
Written by Phoebe Roberts
Directed by Mike Haddad
ROMILDA, a necromancer getting ready for a date (F) - Shannon Keane
GOBBY, her shambling undead zombie servant (M) - Bill DeRusha
~~~
(ROMILDA sits primping to prepare for her date while her dead friend GOBBY looks on.)
ROMILDA:
What do you think, Gobby? Would you say I look… enchanting?
GOBBY:
I think you should put the snake hair back on and take a good, long look in the mirror.
ROMILDA:
Do you want to get chained up in the dungeon again?
GOBBY:
At least it’s quiet down there. And the rats only want to gnaw off my extremities, instead of flaying every last scrap of flesh from my bones, Romilda.
ROMILDA:
Ugh. You drink one guy’s blood, for one unholy ritual, and you never hear the end of it!
GOBBY:
You would have if you hadn’t raised me from the dead!
ROMILDA:
Hey, don’t make me regret that. I dragged you back into that meat sack you call a mortal coil, and I can toss you out again! You want to go back into the lake of fire?
GOBBY:
Okay, okay. I just don’t know why you make me do this. Help you get ready for your Internet date.
ROMILDA:
I need a second pair of eyes, and the crows pecked them out of all my other zombies.
GOBBY:
I don’t know why you bother. Considering that love is dead.
ROMILDA:
Good thing I’m the world’s greatest necromancer, then. I’m lonely, okay?
GOBBY:
What am I, chopped liver?
ROMILDA:
And kidneys, and lungs, and so forth.
GOBBY:
Touché. But if you wanted visitors, maybe you shouldn’t have installed that moat, and that twenty-foot-high tangle of thorn bushes through which no mortal steel can cut.
ROMILDA:
I’m just choosy! My last few dates have been awful.
GOBBY:
So what are you doing wrong?
ROMILDA:
What makes you think it’s me?
GOBBY:
Who drank all my blood again? Some might consider that too forward for a first date.
ROMILDA:
Look at this profile picture! Who could resist me?
(She pulls it up on her phone and shows him.)
GOBBY:
Ooh, you got your good going-out fangs in.
ROMILDA:
I know, right? And this one seems promising for once! He’s the scourge of all seven hell dimensions, and he’s got a full head of pins in his picture.
GOBBY:
Really? All seven? Careful, guys always exaggerate on those sites. I bet he’s lost half those pins in the decade since that picture was taken, and he hasn’t ravaged more than five hells, tops.
ROMILDA:
Anything’s better than the last guy. He just wanted to cut my head off and exchange it for six snow moose hides and the mayor’s daughter’s hand in marriage.
GOBBY:
I hate it when that happens.
ROMILDA:
It wasn’t a total loss. I did eat his heart to steal his courage.
GOBBY:
All those guys, that you chewed up and spat out. Don’t talk to me about loneliness, miss love ‘em and eat ‘em. You try meeting anybody at all when your very existence is a crime against nature.
ROMILDA:
Oh, don’t be a drama corpse. You’re a crime against God, tops. Lots of things in nature love dead stuff!
GOBBY:
Not this dead stuff.
ROMILDA:
What about the revenant speed-dating event you went to in the mass grave? That one corpse was beautiful! She used to be a model when she was alive!
GOBBY:
She was nothing but skin and bones. I like a little meat left on ‘em.
ROMILDA:
Okay, what about that she-beast you went out with last month? The terrifying nether-hulk with the head of a beetle?
GOBBY:
She just wanted me for my body. She needed a warm, nutrient-rich environment to lay her eggs in. I wasn’t ready for that level of commitment.
ROMILDA:
I don’t blame you.
GOBBY:
And you’ve never had to deal with body parts rotting off in the middle of the date!
ROMILDA:
Has that happened to you?
GOBBY:
My metacarpal joint flew off mid-conversation. Right when her mandibles were open!
ROMILDA:
Well… that was unlucky. You could always dredge the water at the bottom of the gorge! There’s always somebody down there, and you know they were desperate!
GOBBY:
If you ask me, I think you should be building up the existing relationships in your life.
ROMILDA:
What existing relationships?
GOBBY:
What else do you keep those the souls captured in crystals pulsating with otherworldly energy for?
ROMILDA:
I try to make conversation, but they most just scream forever. I told you, I’m alone.
GOBBY:
How can you think that? This place is crawling with apparitions. I mean, the number of murdered child ghosts alone!
ROMILDA:
Oh, all they want is attention. And it’s not like they stick around for long.
GOBBY:
I don’t know, sometimes they linger when they’re trying to strip away your sanity. What about that one in the corner? She’s been in agony over there for months now.
(ROMILDA turns to look.)
ROMILDA:
Oh, yes, very terrifying, little Milly! I can turn my face inside out too, but you don’t see me showing off all the time, do you?
(Pause. She makes a face.)
Oh, very nice! Now put those intestines back where they belong, or I’ll banish you to the dimension of ravenous gizzard weasels again!
(Pause.)
Ewwwwwww!
GOBBY:
Don’t stare. It just encourages her.
(Their heads snap away.)
ROMILDA:
You see what I have to deal with?
GOBBY:
You wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t cursed Boris.
ROMILDA:
Ugh! Boris! Don’t even talk to me about Boris. He was a pig.
GOBBY:
And who’s fault was that?
ROMILDA:
Don’t blame this on me! He was the one that had to go and make me fall in love, and then run away with that chupacabra creature! That hussy sucked more than goats, I’ll tell you.
(She goes over to the boar’s head mounted on the wall.)
ROMILDA:
Oh, Boris. Why did you have to go and break my heart?
GOBBY:
Usually when people break up, they don’t like their ex hanging around anymore.
ROMILDA:
As a memento of the beautiful times we shared together. And as a warning to the others.
GOBBY:
Well. If you have to bring them home on the first date…
ROMILDA:
Well, I think I’m ready. Don’t wait up for me.
GOBBY:
No rest for the revenant! You go and have a good time with your fresh meat. I’ll just stay here. Do chores. Scrub the dungeon walls, feed the eldritch tentacular horror in the moat.
ROMILDA:
Remember, he likes the eyeballs best.
GOBBY:
I just hope he’s not in a cuddling mood.
(GOBBY shudders and goes to exit. ROMILDA’s phone buzzes and she looks at it.)
ROMILDA:
You’ve got to be kidding.
GOBBY:
Something happen to dear Hell Scourge?
ROMILDA:
Something came up. Urgent emergency at work. I guess one of the hells became un-ravaged. Yeah, right.
(She slumps down dejectedly.)
GOBBY:
Aw, I’m sorry. I bet he was a loser. He probably had no needles in his face at all!
ROMILDA:
Oh, stop it. You’re probably right. It is my fault. I do scare them all away.
GOBBY:
So what? You’re the mightiest necromancer on this plane. People should be scared of you! That means you’re doing it right!
ROMILDA:
Do you mean that?
GOBBY:
I promise you. You scare the hell out of me.
ROMILDA:
Aw, really?
GOBBY:
It’s why I never tried to make your zombie horde rise up and rebel against you for the misery you’ve inflicted upon us. I know you’d crush us with a thought.
ROMILDA:
You always know the right thing to say. Still sucks to be alone, though.
GOBBY:
That’s the great thing about being surrounded by the undead. We never go away!
ROMILDA:
You promise?
GOBBY:
As long as you don’t banish me to a hell dimension. Do you promise?
ROMILDA:
I promise.
GOBBY:
Then even when the last scrap of meat rots off my frame, this chattering skeleton will be here for you.
(They sit together.)
ROMILDA:
Chattering is right. Maybe you’ll talk less when your tongue falls out.
GOBBY:
No wonder you like dead people. They can’t run away from you.
ROMILDA:
So I guess you were right after all. Love is dead.
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