Acts of Kindness

Jade Rothman

Actor: Welcome, to Act One. This is the beginning. The starting point as it were. This is where I, the writer slash actor, set up for you, the audience, everything that is about to transpire. What is about to transpire? Well! A lot, let me tell you. There’s a little bit of everything. Humor, love, friendship, hardship, Battleship! Yes! Battleship! A game that weighs out the fate of men, the fate of friends. How came we to this game? And why, this particular game? It started with…I mean, it was like…you know…come on…Battleship…

Lee: How’s it coming, Tyler?

Tyler: Ah, fuck! You made me lose my train of thought! I was really on a roll.

Lee: Don’t worry, I’m sure the train is still boarding at the station. So tell me, how far are you?

Tyler: Well, I was just putting the finishing touches on the prologue. Because, as you know, any good play has a prologue.

Lee: Mmm, yes, Tyler. But tell me; When was the last time you actually read a play? 1602? How many acts are you trying to write? And shut up before you say five. Even three is too many these days. Too many people attempting to write great plays were running into this thing called third act trouble. They got to a point where the play was rolling, but they didn’t know how to stop it. Shakespeare, who you seem to be modeling after, obviously had third act trouble, as all of his plays ran for five. You see, the way people avoid third act troubles nowadays is by simply having no third act at all. You should try and focus on two acts. At least, that’s the general convention.

Tyler: Hold on, let me write all this down…

Lee: That’s another thing, notes are all well and good, but you should be able to conjure all this up from memory and pure thought.

Tyler: From memory…

Lee: You’re not even taking me seriously. See, here I am, trying to help you out when you have only six days left, and the least you could do is be a little thankful for the extra help.

Tyler: Thankful? Thankful? You’re the bastard who got me into this mess!

Lee: No, you got yourself into this mess. But if you want to point some fingers we could more accurately say that alcohol got you into this. You can get out of this if you want-

Tyler: Stop it. I stand by my actions and I’m going to do this. Besides, how hard can it be? I just need ideas. I don’t seem to be having very many of them right now. It’s so crazy. I serve all these snobby people their expensive steaks and fine wines, and I come up with about a million ideas a day. Things that boggle my mind; character portrayals, monologues, dialogues. I keep thinking to myself, "If I play around with the characters, find a source of conflict, maybe think up some lighting, some scenery, and add a real story to this, it would make an incredible play." But now when I’m trying to think of something, anything, I get nothing.

Lee: Yeah, kind of tough being a writer, isn’t it?

Tyler: Oh, no, not really. I’m just hitting a little bit of a writer’s block is all. All you guys probably get it too. It’s like when you’re on stage, or in front of a camera, you can’t be expected to just, "Be happy" or "Be angry". It all has to come from somewhere. In the same way that you can never just "be" one way, you can’t just sit down and say, "I’m going to write now". It has to come to you, coming on strong. In fact, I think I feel something coming on now.

Lee: Me too. Please don’t ever make Dinty Moore stew for lunch again. I’m afraid after one bowl of that I’m not going to make it to see dinner.

Tyler: Then you probably won’t be happy with that meal either.

Lee: Why, what are you serving up?

Tyler: More of the same.

Lee: Oh god, I couldn’t take another session of that god-awful stuff. Of course, on the other hand, it would give me time to set down with Welsh’s new book.

Tyler: See, that’s the spirit! Uhm, unless of course, you want to do an old buddy a favor and help him out. I mean, I know it is my night to cook dinner, but I don’t suppose that under these circumstances, with me being a bit under the gun and all…?

Lee: Say no more, happy to help a fellow master of the quill out. I think some brain food is in order.

Tyler: Do we have any Guinness left?

Lee: No, that was all consumed last night. Besides, that’s going to knock you right out and just distract you. Want a cup of tea? It’ll keep you awake.

Tyler: Yeah, sure, sounds good. Now, I must write. Be gone! (exit Lee, enter Jillian). Hey, babe, I didn’t know you were over here.

Jillian: I got off of work early. What’s new, hunny?

Tyler: Oh, just, messing about, writing down some things. About acting. Why, what are you up to?

Jillian: Well, I was hoping we could pop out for a bit. I really wanted to go grab a couple of drinks tonight if you had time. But, if you’re busy, I understand.

Tyler: No, no! Jillian, I always got time for you, babe. Don’t you worry about a thing. I was just writing some stuff out for Lee, he wanted my opinion on some acting methods, or something like that. He’s in the kitchen, let’s just sneak out and he’ll never know the difference. Sound good?

Jillian: Super! Let’s go. (exit Jillian and Tyler)

Enter Lee

Lee: Tyler, do you want milk or sugar-? Oh, for the love of Christ…

Fade to low light

 

 

Enter Tyler, light stays somewhat low, he starts typing, lights eventually come up, signaling a new day

Tyler: Lee! Come here!

Lee: What? Tyler, do you have any idea what time it is?

Tyler: Yeah, it’s quarter of six, but check this out, it’s a start to my play.

Lee: Lemme get my glasses. (exit Lee), from offstage Ow. (re-enter Lee) Give it here, and go make some tea.

Tyler: Will do! (exit Tyler)

Ryan: So how long do we have?

James: Four days.

Ryan: How much do we have down?

James: Since we don’t even have a title for the ‘title page’, we have nothing.

Ryan: Do we have a concept?

James: No. Unless you count the concept I have of how much shit we’re in.

Ryan: Remind me again how we got here. Things are kind of fuzzy right now.

James: Cheap liquor has that effect, but I think I vaguely remember…We’ve been out here two years, having no success with our writing. We showed one entrepreneurial young man, name of Peterson, some of our work and he is impressed. Says he’ll give us 5,000 dollars to live on while we’re writing the play, at which point, payment will be completed at the end of the show, but if we don’t come through, we gotta pay him back the money in full. And of course, we don’t have the money, and we don’t have a story, because he didn’t even tell us what he wanted.

Ryan: But concept isn’t important! Your talent can hold this all together! I’m sure you will do a fine job.

James: So you remember a little?

Ryan: You can take this all the way, don’t let nothing stop you, you’re golden, our ticket out of here!

James: I don’t remember Peterson saying that.

Ryan: Were we talking about Peterson?

James: Christ, Ry, get it together! We are down to four days, no ideas, we’re almost out of booze, and we have almost no money.

Ryan: Well why don’t we just give him one of our old ideas, one of the older things we’ve written?

James: Because he didn’t want one of our old ideas, he wanted something fresh, remember?

Ryan: Why don’t we give him one of our OLD ideas, one that he doesn’t know about?

James: Ryan, unless you’re talking about, "Fluffy Kitty in the City", that God-awful piece of trash you wrote and performed back in second grade, we don’t have anything else to show him. We gave him everything. Hell, I was so desperate for some type of recognition in the field, I was throwing in cocktail napkins I scribbled notes on.

Ryan: We get drinks at places that are swanky enough to give us cocktail napkins? What are we doing in this dive?

James: This is our apartment! God, you really are worthless when you’ve been drinking. Do you remember one damn thing?

Silence

Ryan: So…how long do we have?

James: Four days! Four days, God-damn it! Four days!

Ryan: So four days times twenty-four hours equals…

James: Ninety-six hours.

Ryan: So let’s think about this logically. A typical page has like, thirty lines of dialogue, right? So if we write a line a minute, that’s going to take us thirty minutes for a page, right? And typically, you need about forty pages for a decent play, right? So forty pages times a half hour per page equals twenty hours right?

James: Right.

Ryan: So the way I see it. We can still have fun for the next seventy hours, then take the last twenty-six to really worry about this, give or take a few hours.

James: That’s your idea.

Ryan: Yeah. Pretty good, right?

James: Not that you want to start working on this play now or anything, right?

Ryan: James, my friend, you aren’t paying attention to the important details here. We only need twenty hours for this project and we have ninety-six. If you examine things as they are, we’re pretty well off.

James: And what exactly are we going to write about?

Ryan: Oh, well, that’s what the next seventy hours are for. That and partying.

James: Partying. That’s what the next seventy hours are for?

Ryan: Yeah, come on man, intoxication breeds creation. Remember Rivers Cuomo? The Weezer dude. He said you have to be under some type of intoxication to create anything. So we’ll go pound a few down, get good and gone, and we’ll be up to our neck in ideas in no time.

James: You realize we’re almost out of money. We do need to be able to eat these next four days.

Ryan: Well then we can just drink what we have left in the house.

James: As I was trying to tell you, we’re basically out of booze as well.

Ryan: What do we have?

James: Two Beasts, a PBR, and one of those small airline bottles of Kahlua.

Ryan: Oh.

James: Yeah.

Ryan: Do we have any Lysol? If we do, I call dibs on that.

James: Sorry, I used the last of it cleaning your vomit out of the bathroom.

Ryan: Oh, thanks. Well, I guess we’d better do something then.

James: What did you have in mind? Actually doing some work?

Ryan: No, I was thinking about panicking. And then sleeping. And then fighting a nasty hangover. And then worrying about this in the morning. Good night.

Exit Ryan, James sits alone

James: Mother fucker. He did it again. (James picks up a phone and dials) Hi, Janine? Hey, it’s me. Yeah, I know it’s late. Yeah, I know you need your beauty sleep…no, no! I didn’t mean it like that! Listen, sweetie, I’m going to have to break our date for Friday. Yeah, I know we haven’t actually gone out in a while. Yes, I remember that Sunday is going to be our anniversary. Yes, I promise I will see you and we will have a good time. (long pause) No, I don’t have anything written. Janine, please. Janine, come on, this is stressing me out too. Now come on. Alright, whatever, I don’t have time for this. I don’t need to be harassed by you at this time of night over something so trivial! I- yes. No. Yes…yes…I love you too.

Enter Ryan

Ryan: James! I got it, the idea that is going to save us.

James: Let’s hear it.

Ryan: An unscripted play.

James: How is that the idea that’s going to save us? ‘Cause if you think about it, we’re being paid to write a play, and an unscripted play doesn’t need writers, if it doesn’t have a script!

Ryan: Here’s the ingenious part: It’s all improvisational, except for one scene a night. But only one character on the stage is ever going to know when he’s doing improv, and when he’s delivering his lines.

James: This is either the single greatest or single worst idea I have ever heard in my life.

                Tyler: So, what did you think?

Lee: If you’re answer to the script is having an unscripted play, it’s the single worst idea I’ve ever heard in my life.

Tyler: Well, no, you see, that’s the thing. They get convinced that it’s this really great idea, but then as they rehearse, or try to rehearse, they decide that it’s awful, and they’re going to be ruined, more ruined than they already are. So they record each session to see who they like, and miraculously, with a week left before the play has to actually go up, they study the tapes, see what they like, and piece together a play based on everyone’s improvisation.

Lee: So the conflict is that they have only a few days to write a play, and the resolution is that they do nothing, and that’s how everything ends up ok.

Tyler: Yeah! It worked for Seinfeld.

Lee: It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard, but it definitely isn’t the best. And if you can write it, I’ll give you loads of respect, but it might be difficult. I mean, the only problem with it is that you’re going to have to write the improv scenes as well.

Tyler: No, I shouldn’t have to. They’re improv.

Lee: Yes, but if you are going to form a good play from stupid improv, you have to know what the improv, is first. The play that James and Ryan are going to write depends on what they see their actors do, correct?

Tyler: Yeah.

Lee: So obviously you have to know what their actors are going to do. I’ll level with you here, man. As you know, improv is tough to do, but to write what you think people would improvise is even harder. I’ve tried it several times, and every time I’ve failed.

Tyler: Are you saying I can’t do it?

Lee: No, no, I’m not saying that at all, I’m just thinking. Maybe you should, well, focus on something else.

Tyler: … You’re right. I really didn’t know where I was going with this story to begin with. I guess I’ll just trash this.

Lee: No, it had some really good ideas, I was impressed by some of it. The dialogue was definitely there, and it had a lot of heart behind it. I think that you’ve got the talent for writing. You just need time to think and focus.

Tyler: Alright, I’ll toy around with some of the ideas. You should get back to bed man. I got more writing to do.

Lee: No you don’t, quit playing around with this stupid bet. Tyler, I know you have a lot of talent in you. You don’t have to prove this to me. I’ve always had the utmost confidence in you. Now let’s quit playing around and just move on from this whole silly bet.

Tyler: Thanks man, but I really think I can do this, so let’s just keep it going, alright? Good. Anyhow man, get your rest, I feel ideas coming on.

Exit Lee, Tyler starts typing.

Fade to black.

________________________________________________________________________

Tyler: Baby, do you think I’m dumb?

Jillian: What? Hunny, no! I think you’re really smart. Why do you ask?

Tyler: I don’t know, I just feel so stupid sometimes. I mean, you’re in grad school, getting ready to go for a doctorate, and you’re planning on marrying a waiter.

Jillian: No, I’m planning on marrying an actor.

Tyler: Oh, so you’re leaving me, huh? Who is he?

Jillian: Stop it, you know perfectly well that I mean you.

Tyler: I just want to accomplish something, and I’m thinking that maybe acting isn’t the way to go. I really want to create, but I just can’t get anywhere with it, and when I get stuck, I feel stupid. I hate that feeling, feeling stupid makes me feel weak, feeling weak makes me feel miserable, and feeling miserable makes me not feel good enough for anyone. I’m sorry I’m beating around the bush with everything. All I’m saying is I just want you to love me.

Jillian: Tyler, I do love you! What’s gotten into you?

Tyler: Nothing. So how were the studies today?

Jillian: Horrible. My professor made this little kid cry. We were doing a case study on him, well, him and a bunch of other kids who are chronic bed-wetters, and Louis just wouldn’t let up on him until the poor thing broke down and wet his eyes and his pants!

Tyler: Excuse me? Louis? Who’s Louis?

Jillian: Oh, that’s Prof. Smith, he told me to start calling him Louis to help our work feel more casual. It really isn’t working for me, I only find it easy to call him Louis when he’s not around.

Tyler: And why would he want you to start calling him Louis?

Jillian: He wants to make it a less hierarchal working environment. What does it matter? Oh no. Oh my God. Tyler, are you jealous?

Tyler: No, not at all, especially not of a guy named Louis.

Jillian: Tyler’s jealous, Tyler’s jealous.

Tyler: I’m not jealous! But if he so much as winks at you he’s dead.

Jillian: Tyler, it’s really sweet that you’re jealous, I’m glad that you care. And it’s really sweet that you’re looking out for me too, I appreciate it. But I love you. You’re my fiancée, we’re getting married. Nothing is going to change that. We made a pact with each other. The ring and the watch. Do you really think that because my instructor wants me to call him Louis that I’m going to toss my one true love aside?

Tyler: No.

Jillian: Good! Now stop being so silly and rub my back for a change.

Tyler: Yes master. Oh no, is it six already? I have to go in to work tonight or I’m fired.

Jillian: You haven’t been there in a while. Is anything the matter?

Tyler: No, nothing’s the matter. Why would anything be the matter? I just haven’t felt like going to work. Don’t you ever feel like that? Why should something be the matter if I’m not working? I hate that place don’t I?

Jillian: Jesus, Tyler, don’t get so defensive. I just worry about you, hunny.

Tyler: I know, babe. I’m sorry. I’ve just been worrying about things lately. Like the wedding, and the money, and how am I going to have enough, and I hate my job, I can’t keep going there, it’s killing me.

Jillian: Tyler, I’ll take care of it. I’ll go down to Marco’s and tell them that you’re sick and I’m taking care of you, alright? I’ll come back and we’ll talk about things, maybe we can find you a new job. I don’t want you unhappy, love. We’ll take care of this, alright?

Tyler: Alright. I love you.

Jillian: I love you too. Now you just hang on and I’ll be back in an hour or so, I’ll pick up some Chinese on the way, alright?

Tyler: Thanks, babe, you’re the best.

Jillian: Don’t I know it. And I’m modest too. Bye. (exit Jillian)

Tyler starts typing

________________________________________________________________________

Lee: Got anything, Tyler?

Tyler: Well, I have been working on a couple things. My main problem is that I get little snippets of a plot together, but then I think of another idea, I can’t really string something out through the length of a play. I feel like everything I’m going to write is just going to flop, like this last thing I wrote. Here.

Lee: What’s it about?

Tyler: It’s about these two guys living in London, one felt bad living his life at home so he exiles himself to the city across the pond. And I like the concept, he’s tortured by inner demons, his family, his ex-girlfriend, but I only have the very beginning of the story. I just don’t know if I know enough about it all to carry it all the way out.

Lee: Well, let me take a look.

                                Jonathan: Can we go now?

                                Cain: No.

                                Jonathan: How long are you going to just look out that window?

                                Cain: As long as I have to.

                                Jonathan: That makes no sense.

                                Cain: It makes perfect sense to me.

                                Jonathan: Well it probably doesn’t to them! Explain it.

Cain: (Speaks directly to the audience) My name is Cain, a reference to the son of Adam and Eve from the Bible. I live here in London with my best friend Jonathan, we moved here after college. He and I are both aspiring actors slash writers, and we came across the pond with stary-eyed dreams of hitting it big, then coming back to America to show up all the nay-sayers we had encountered along the way. So far, we’ve been here a year and a half and we have practically nothing to show for it.

Jonathan: Tell them all of it.

Cain: No.

Jonathan: Fine, then I’ll tell them. What Cain is leaving out is that two months before we left for London, he broke up with his long time girlfriend. Didn’t discuss this move with her at all, didn’t ask if she wanted to come along, but rather, one day, just dropped this decision in her lap, said he was leaving, and took off. Since that day, all he does is brood about her, pretending that he’s often in deep thought. Very introverted. But in reality, it’s just a show. He’s too depressed to really do anything, and he is letting thoughts of her run his life. Originally, we had planned to go to LA, but a week after breaking up with Rebecca, he convinces me that LA is dead and that London is the place to be. Big city, lots of stages, lots of directors, foreign women, good beer. So I followed.

Cain: I’ll take over from here, because you always screw this up. I came on a self-imposed exile. I didn’t feel right in my home anymore. My girlfriend loved me so much, but she never really wanted to live far away, so I had to let her go. There was nothing for me as an actor in our small hometown. My family has always told me that I’m crazy to be trying to act, I felt like a failure and had to leave them behind. My friends, I just didn’t relate to them anymore, except for Jonathan.

Jonathan: So that’s when Cain decides to use his power of persuasion to drag me into this mess. And as you can see, it worked. Here I am, here we are. But we’re not doing anything. We’re both writing, but we’re not getting anything published, not like we’re trying. We’re both looking for acting work, but no one wants Americans who can’t do British accents. We keep practicing, but we’re only getting worse and worse, we’re not improving at all. Mainly because we only feel comfortable enough to practice on the rare occasion that we’re drunk, and when that happens the locals think that we’re making fun of them and looking for a fight. We’re getting by on our jobs in pubs, and working odd-jobs here and there, but it’s bare bones living.

Cain: A lot of stealing beer from the pubs we work at, bottles here and there, and making friends with the cooks so we can eat for free during our shifts. Most of our money goes to our flat, most of our time goes to our jobs and trying to pursue our dreams. So when we actually have a free night, such as this one, it’s a big deal.

Jonathan: But now Cain doesn’t want to leave. He wants to call Rebecca, but he won’t, he’s waiting for her to call. But she won’t, because she’s dating someone else.

Cain: She said she’s "seeing him".

Jonathan: Aren’t those pretty much one in the same?

Cain: I suppose you’re right.

Jonathan: We’re lucky to go out twice a month, and usually one of those times he pulls this. He’s pulled this the last three times. So what do you think is going to happen tonight? Anything different, anything new? I’m not betting on it, but I’m willing to entertain offers.

Lee: Wow, I really like what you’re doing with taking down the fourth wall, making them address the audience, including them in the characters’ plights, but I understand what you’re saying about not being able to support it. You have to write what you know, and you’ve never been to London. So based on that, how about you try writing what you know, or writing about something that you’re experiencing. I think the events from a few nights ago would be very appropriate.

Tyler: I did write them, but there are some fuzzy spots and I’m not sure I have everything right.

Lee: Well there are obviously some fuzzy spots, you were drunk. That’s no matter though, even Hunter S. Thompson admits to fuzzy spots in his stories. Anyway, let me take a look at what you’ve got.

L: You know what you’re problem is, Tyler? You’re a waste, you have no talent. You’re trying to be an actor, but you’re just not making it. You’d think that with your extensive experience in reading over and using scripts that you could write one yourself, but you can’t even do that I bet.

T: I bet you I could.

L: No you couldn’t.

T: Yes I could.

L: No you couldn’t

T: Yes I-

Lee: Tyler, another word of advice, if you are trying to write things exactly as they happen, you do have to take into account that the audience may fall asleep during repetition. How long does this go contradiction go on for?

Tyler: A page and a half.

Lee: Mind if I skim ahead?

Tyler: By all means.

T: I know for a fact I can write a play, I’m a great writer, I used to write for my high school newspaper. In fact, I wrote for the college’s newspaper if you remember. I used to get A’s on all my essays, I was a damn fine writer and I’m going to write a script that will blow you away.

L: No way. You couldn’t

Lee: Wow, that’s pretty impressive Tyler. Although I must admit I’m a little hurt. Obviously these characters are going to represent yourself and mine, but I can’t believe you think of me that way.

                Tyler: You told me to write it as it happened, and to fill in the fuzzy spots.

Lee: So is this story one big peach in your brain? ‘Cause this all has to be fuzzy spots if you ask me.

Tyler: I wrote everything down exactly as it happened. And yeah, maybe I do feel that you treat me a little poorly, that you’re a little condescending. But maybe we need to get this all out on the table. I respect you, Lee, you’re my best friend, but you really need to change your ways if you want people to like you in this life.

Lee: Maybe you’re right. But do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions right now?

Tyler: Shoot.

Lee: Sunday night, who was drunk?

Tyler: We were, I came home from the bar and we had some drinks together.

Lee: There’s your first bit of fuzz. You came home and drank up the rest of the Guinness, and I had a cup of tea.

Tyler: Alright, well, maybe I didn’t remember exactly what happened-

Lee: Do you remember who started insulting who?

Tyler: No.

Lee: Do you remember who made the bet?

Tyler: You did, I know that for a fact.

Lee: Oh do you now?

Tyler: Yes, as a matter of fact I do. You were being pompous and condescending as usual, made an offer to me, and literally twisted my arm to get me to sign the damn thing, but I’m a man of my word and I’m sticking to this damn bet.

Lee: You’re an idiot when you drink, and you know why? It’s because you never remember a God-damn thing…

Tyler: Well if you had such a clear head that night, why don’t you tell me what really happened?

Lee: I don’t think you could handle hearing this nor do I think you actually want to hear this.

Tyler: You consider yourself my friend? Then fucking lay it on me, bro!

Lee: Tyler, when people try to avoid telling you something, it’s usually for your own good. Haven’t you figured that out by this point in your life?

Tyler: What, are you afraid I’m going to take what you wrote, steal it, and pawn it off as my own creation?

Lee: What the Hell are you talking about?

Tyler: I see how it is, you’re intimidated by how much I’m turning out. You realize that I can’t be stopped, that I’m going to succeed where you failed. It’s going to be one tough day for you when you come to see the play that I wrote and starred in, won’t it? But at least you’ll finally be working a real job when this bet is said and done. I guess you don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to…

Lee: Alright you fuck, you wanted it! (exit Lee, re-enter w/ a few sheets of paper) Here it is! Read it!

L: Shit, man, I think you should slow down.

T: Aw no, I’m just getting started!

L: Alright, if you say so. If you need help, I’m going to be in my room. I’ll keep an ear open for you, but I’ve also got a lot of thoughts flowing so-

T: So you’re going to be writing, huh? Doing your "work"?

L: Yeah, I got an article to write for the press, small free-lance thing, but it’ll be nice to be getting money for my writing for a change, you know?

T: See, that’s your problem, Lee, you spend all your time writing, which means you spend all your time not getting paid. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only breadwinner in this place. I may not be out there acting all the time, but at least I have a job and bring some cash into this place.

L: I am writing all the time though. While you’re out busing tables, I’m honing my craft.

T: You can hone your craft no matter what though. Would it kill you to go out and work eight hours a day? So what if you do? You come home, and you still got at least another four hours of the day to write.

L: You think it’s that easy, huh?

T: I know it’s that easy! Hell man, anyone can write, we’re all taught to do that in school. And anyone with an imagination can write fiction, so I don’t see why the hell you think what you do is so damn hard.

L: Yeah, I’d like to see you even try and write a play.

T: I could, man.

L: Right.

T: I could, and it’d be fucking amazing. And you want to know what would be the most amazing thing about it? I could turn it out in a night. Like it was nothing at all. A play takes two hours to watch right? Figure about six to write it. Yeah, I can do that in a night.

L: I’ll tell you what, let’s make a friendly bet on this. And to be even more friendly and generous, I’ll give you a week.

T: Alright, sounds good, then I’ll show you who’s got the real talent around here. What should we bet though?

L: It’s a friendly bet. Friendly bet means pretty much that the victor just gets bragging rights. But tell you what, if you win, then I’ll go out and get a job-

T: And if you win, which you won’t, I’ll give you the watch Jillian gave me. That’s how confident I am that I can do this. You know the watch I’m talking about right? The one her grandfather gave her when he died.

L: Yeah, I know the watch and now I know you’re really drunk. What the fuck do you think you’re doing betting with that, Tyler? Or trying to bet with that seeing as how I’m not going to accept those conditions? She gave you that when you gave her the engagement ring, it was a mutual bond between the two of you, the sharing of a gift. It’s like if she proposed to you; you can’t bet that. I won’t accept it.

T: You will accept those conditions! Those are the conditions of the bet! And to solidify it, we’ll put it in writing!

L: This is fucking ludicrous.

T: Lee, how do you spell your first name?

L: You’ve got to be kidding-

T: Spell it!

L: L, e, e.

T: How’s this: This contract herein states the bet to take place between one Lee and one Tyler on the grounds of Tyler’s capability to come up with a play-

L: A decent play.

T: A decent play, in the time span of one week, or seven days. If Tyler is the victor, which he inevitably will be, Lee will get off of his lazy ass and get a job. If Lee is correct in Tyler’s ineptitude at writing, then Lee will receive one watch from Tyler that was given to him by his fiancée, Jillian. If Tyler, by some act of God, loses but refuses to relinquish possession of the watch, he will instead pay Lee the sum of five thousand dollars.

L: Five thousand dollars? Where are you getting this from? There’s no if/or in making a bet. Besides, Tyler, you barely have five dollars to your name at any given day, where the hell do you think you’ll get five thousand from?

T: A CD that my grandparents gave me a while ago, it’s been collecting interest and it is worth five grand, I’m putting that up to back the watch. There. Now you sign.

L: No, this is ridiculous. Tyler, there is no way I’m letting you do this to yourself. It’s too much. You can’t go betting the watch of your fiancée’s dead grandfather, and you don’t have the money to back it up when you won’t give it to me. You don’t have time for this stupid little game. You’ve got to be at work on Monday, and you really do need time to write a play. What kind of friend would I be if I let you do this? It’s not happening.

T: Ha, because you know I’m right.

L: No, you’re an asshole. And you’re drunk, which is the worst combination. You couldn’t be any more wrong right now.

T: Then quit fucking about and sign your name! Help me prove how wrong I am! Sign the paper! What are you waiting for? Sign the God-damn paper!

L: Alright, you stupid fuck, there! Are you happy? I’ve signed my name to this stupid contract that means nothing. Now I suggest you get your ass to sleep, and let me hold on to the contract so you can wake up early and get to work on the next great piece of theatre in the morning.

T: Oh no you don’t. You just want the contract so you can rip it up and hope I’ll forget about it. Not happening, pal. I’m taking this in to bed with me, locking the door, and in the morning, I’m getting up to shove this back in your smarmy little face. Good night!

L: Tyler, you silly little bastard, what are you doing…

Tyler: Bullshit, that can’t be how it happened. There’s no way. You’re lying to me, Lee. Me, you’re best friend, you’re lying right to my face.

Lee: No, I’m not. And you should wish that I was. You said some pretty scathing things that night that I’m not about to let go.

Tyler: Is that why you made the bet with me? To get back at me for saying those things to you? I take them all back, man. You know that was the alcohol talking, and not me. I’m sorry, man, I’m sorry. I just can’t believe I would lean that hard into you, why would I do that?

Lee: Because you’re a fucking belligerent drunk! You’re a bastard when you drink, Ty! You make rash statements, you get violent, you forget the things that you do, and you forget who your friends are. Liquor gets too much of a hold on you and you don’t have the slightest fucking clue how to control it. I was scared of you when I signed that paper, you had a look in your eye like you wanted me to be breathing through a tube the rest of my life. I made a bet with a monster that night to get him out of my face. And now that my good friend Tyler is here again, I want that piece of paper back.

Tyler: Give me a few minutes to think about things.

Lee: Tyler, give me the paper back.

Tyler: Get out for a few minutes. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.

Lee: Give me the fucking paper!

Tyler: Out! (exit Lee, forced out by Tyler)

________________________________________________________________________

                Jillian: Hey love.

                Tyler: Hey.

                Jillian: I have a great idea. You are going to love this…

                Tyler: Hmm?

Jillian: You, me. A couple of steaks, a bottle of red wine, I have the apartment to myself tonight…let the imagination run wild.

Tyler: That sounds incredible. But I can’t.

Jillian: What? Why?

Tyler: Too much work, babe.

Jillian: Too much work? Tyler, you never have anything to do, you’re a waiter-

Tyler: Actor!

Jillian: So how could you even have work to do unless…An audition? Oh my God, Tyler, an audition? Tell me all about it! What’s the part for? TV, film, or theatre? Is there kissing involved? I’ll understand if there is. I mean, I won’t be happy about it, but-

Tyler: Honey.

Jillian: Yes?

Tyler: It’s not an audition. I just have some writing to do.

Jillian: Are you writing me poems? That’s so sweet! Can I read them? Let me see!

Tyler: No! I-

Jillian: This isn’t poetry-

Tyler: No, it’s-

Jillian: It’s a play. But why are you writing a play? Lee writes the plays, you do the acting. What’s wrong? Are you two in an argument?

Tyler: No. It’s just…It’s very complicated and I don’t really want to get into it right now, alright?

Jillian: I see.

Tyler: What? Baby, what’s the matter?

Jillian: Nothing.

Tyler: Hey. Gorgeous. I know you. I know that tone, I know what that "nothing" means. Be honest with me and tell me what’s wrong.

Jillian: Who is she?

Tyler: You’ve got to be kidding me.

Jillian: Who is she, Tyler?

Tyler: Jillian, oh my- Do you really think? Oh my God! Honey! No! I love you! You’re my heart, my soul, you’re everything to me. Jillian, we’ve been together for years. We’ve been officially engaged for a month now, and you think I’d be off with another girl? Jillian, that’s crazy talk! There is no one but you.

Jillian: So then you’ll tell me what all this is about?

Tyler: No.

Jillian: Then why won’t you tell me what all this is about?

Tyler: I’m too scared.

Jillian: Tyler, look at me. Look me in the eye. What is the worst thing that you could have done? Been with another girl. And it’s not another girl, because you told me it wasn’t, so it can’t be the worst thing you could have done. And if it’s not the worst thing, then nothing too awful is going to happen. Now, my love, tell me what happened.

Tyler: Jillian, this is going to be the toughest thing I’ve ever had to explain, I just don’t think I can do it.

Jillian: Tyler, if you love me, you’ll tell me, you have to.

Tyler: Oh, where to begin...Do you remember last Sunday?

Jillian: Yeah, you and I went out to the bar, and then we went back to our own apartments because I had work early on Monday. You did go back to your apartment, right?

Tyler: Yes, of course I did. But here’s what happened. I came home, and for some reason decided that it might be a good idea if I drank a little more. So I had a couple of cans of Guinness while I was talking to Lee and we got into a bit of a debate. Basically, I was taking the standpoint that writing wasn’t so hard and that I could do what he does easily. He was obviously taking the defensive standpoint and was arguing that there is a lot more involved to writing than meets the eye. This debate ensued for a while until a bet got made. The bet was that I couldn’t produce a play in a week’s time. That’s why I’ve been so stressed. I need to prove to him that I can do it.

Jillian: That’s all this about? A stupid bet? Tyler, if Lee was any type of friend he would not be holding this above your head the way he is. He’s so protective of you, I can’t believe that he’d be making you feel like this. It was a friendly bet right? Right? Tyler, it was a friendly bet, right?

Tyler: No.

Jillian: Well, then what did you bet for?

Tyler: If I finish the play, Lee has to get a nine to five job and work on his writing during his off time the same way that I work on my acting in the off time.

Jillian: Fine, so what did you bet in return? Are you going to start paying more rent, or cooking more meals or something like that?

Tyler: No, nothing like that at all really.

Jillian: Then what did you bet?

Tyler: The watch.

Jillian: …

Tyler: Yeah. Your Grandfather’s watch. The one you gave to me for our engagement. Or, in the event that I don’t give him the watch, five thousand dollars.

Jillian: Tyler that’s fucking crazy you don’t have five thousand dollars.

Tyler: I do. I’ve been saving it, keeping it secret, for our wedding.

Jillian: You bet the watch? The watch I gave you for our engagement. That’s like me pawning this ring, Tyler, do you have any idea how that makes me feel?

Tyler: No, I’m sorry, I can’t relate.

Jillian: This is crazy, I’m going to talk to Lee. He’s your best friend Tyler, why would he make you carry out this stupid bet. He’s probably just trying to scare you. I can’t believe this, Tyler, it’s complete bullshit. Where is he?

Tyler: Jillian, don’t. It’s not his fault.

Jillian: How is it not his fault? He made this bet with you, he won’t let you call it off, he’s causing you to go crazy, to lose your job, to push me away, he’s not your friend at all, Tyler!

Tyler: He’s the best friend I’ve got! He’s wants to let me off but I’m not going to let him. I made my bed, I have to sleep in it. You don’t know what happened. I made him feel threatened, he was scared of me, Jillian. My best friend, the guy who’s going to be my best man at our wedding, and he thought I was going to hurt him unless he signed the contract. He was shit scared and I don’t blame him, I’m not the same man when I drink as I am now. I change, I become violent, I get too proud, I think I can take on the world. We both know I can’t. I’m just another waste of space.

Jillian: Tyler. I don’t know what to say. I can’t be with someone who would throw away a gift of love like that. My grandfather meant so much to me, Ty. You meant so much to him. He wanted me to give that watch to you someday, he always told me that. ‘Jillian,’ he’d say, ‘I don’t have any sons or grandsons, so I want you to give this to the boy you marry. Someone sweet, someone caring. Someone like Tyler."

Tyler: Jillian, I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry, but I just can’t let myself go back on this bet.

Jillian: Tyler, I’m leaving right now. I’ll be back in a few days. I hope you have this sorted out by then, because this is a serious breach of trust. I don’t know if I can look at you the same way anymore. Figure this out, soon. Or I may be gone for good. (exit Jillian)

Tyler starts typing, then uncorks a bottle and starts drinking

________________________________________________________________________

                Lee: Tyler. Tyler. Ty, man, come on. Listen-

                Tyler: Lee, shut the fuck up, I’m trying to work.

                Lee: Why? Tyler, just give up, you don’t have to keep doing this to yourself.

Tyler: And lose the bet? Not fucking likely. I’m not giving up, if I lose this bet, if I lose that watch, then everything is over. My life will be finished. So just do me a favor, and let me try to work.

Lee: Tyler, listen to me for a second, bro. Listen to me. Look at me. How long have we been friends now? For a long time, a real long time. I have never held anything against you, Ty, and I wouldn’t hold it against you if you happened to, say, boycott this payment.

Tyler: Fuck you.

Lee: I’m giving you a way out.

Tyler: Fuck you, we’re taking this to the end.

Lee: Just accept this as a way out! Boycott the payment. Fine. Tyler, I’m not asking for the watch-

Tyler: And give you my five thousands dollars? You know I can’t do that, I have to save for the wedding-

Lee: Would you shut up and listen to me? I’m not asking for the damn money either, I don’t want you doing this to yourself, it’s not healthy. So it’s over, I’m calling the bet off.

Tyler: No, I can’t let you do that. I’m a man of my word, I made this bet and I’m sticking to it. I don’t ever want it to be said that anyone ever had to cut me any slack, or that I’m not a man of my word. That’s not me. Tyler Godfreid is a man of his word.

Lee: But what does it matter? Nothing. Who knows about this? You and me-

Tyler: And Jillian.

Lee: -and Jillian. Tyler, we’re the only people that know. We won’t think any less of you if you back out of this bet. She loves you and doesn’t want to see you do this to yourself. You’re my best friend and I don’t care if you keep this bet or not. Our friendship is so much more important than either of us proving a point in this matter. Look at you. It’s been four days, you’ve barely eaten, the only sleep you get is when you pass out from too much drinking. I can’t stand to see you do this to yourself. As a friend I can’t let it go on any farther. It’s not healthy for you, and this certainly doesn’t reflect well on me, the guy who would like to consider himself your best friend.

Tyler: You just don’t understand, neither of you do.

Lee: What is there to understand? Tell me, enlighten me! What is this about? Pride?

Tyler: Yes, it’s about pride.

Lee: Why?

Tyler: Because it’s all I’ve got! Look at me, man. I’m pathetic, I’m a drunkard and I can’t do anything well. If I were a good actor, I’d obviously be out there acting, but instead, I always end up at the very dregs of the cattle calls. I’m obviously not a good writer, as this little episode is proving. So if I’m not an actor, and not a writer, then what am I? A waiter, and a shitty one at that. And considering that I haven’t shown up in the past week or so, I’m probably not even going to be that for very long. The only thing I was ever good at was being a loving, caring boyfriend, but I’ve fucked that up by making this stupid bet with you. My world is crumbling around me so I keep crawling further and further into a bottle, which is what got me in this miserable predicament in the first place. So what do I have left? My pride, that’s it. I may not be good at anything, and I may not be going anywhere, but it will never be said that I could not stand on my own two feet, or ever backed down from anyone. My pride’s all I got left, and I have so little of it. So let me defend the one little thing I have left and let me finish out this stupid fucking bet.

Lee: Ok, Tyler. You have one day. I can’t reason with you, so start typing (exit Lee)

 

Lee: You wanted to talk to me?

Jillian: What is he doing to himself, Lee? What did you do to him? He bet the watch, he bet the symbol of our love, what convinced him to do such a thing?

Lee: Alcohol. Haven’t you ever experienced him to be a bear when he’s drunk?

Jillian: He doesn’t drink that much around me, he tries to keep it toned down he says.

Lee: Make sure he keeps it that way, he has a tendency to fly off the handle. I wish I could explain his actions. I think he was just drunk and agitated, and was looking to show me that he could do something that I couldn’t, assert his dominance in the pack, that sort of thing.

Jillian: I understand it, he looks up to you so much. You’re like the brother he never had, Lee. He talks to me about you all the time, he feels like even in the house he’s living in your shadow. You’re both creators, you’re both artists, but you’re the only one actually creating. You can do that from the home, but he hasn’t found work in months. He fears he’s just going to be a washed up loser and someday you’ll be successful and never remember the friendship that the two of you shared.

Lee: He’s the best friend a guy could ask for, why would he think something like that? He’s been there for me through thick and thin, whenever I needed an ear to listen to my thoughts or needed someone to read over my work, he’s been there in a heartbeat.

Jillian: Because he wants to please you, he wants to measure up to you. He sees you as so much more mature. He sees you almost as a patriarchal figure. Whenever he stays over, doesn’t he call to let you know first?

Lee: Yeah, well, he does.

Jillian: He doesn’t want you worrying about him, because he worries about you the same way. It’s all about love, Lee. That’s why he’s doing what he’s doing.

Lee: No, it’s not. It’s about pride. He’s too proud to let this go. I’m really worried about him, Jillian. He’s depressed because he hasn’t acted and he isn’t being a successful writer. He’s so worried about losing you since your argument that he can’t do anything except drink. He’s trying to write, but he just can’t get there. His first thought is that you’ll leave, and he grabs a bottle and just starts drinking. It’s been this way for a day and a half now. Ever since you two had your argument.

Jillian: I love him. So much. And I know that’s he proud, and I know nothing will change that. But you can keep him from destroying himself.

Lee: So can you. Stand by him, he needs you right now.

Jillian: No, he needs to do this without me. He needs to prove to himself that he is something, that he can do something without me holding his hand. It’s not like I’m going to leave him, I love him too much.

Lee: But he needs you! He can’t work because all he does is drink and cry about how you’re going to leave him. He needs to know you won’t leave, he can’t function without knowing that.

Jillian: It’s tough love, I know, but sometimes-

Lee: Fuck your psychoanalytical bullshit! I’m leaving.

Jillian: Where are you going?

Lee: I’m going to fix this mess, be at the apartment at the apartment tomorrow at seven. And if you aren’t there to support him, then I swear to God…Just be there!(exit Lee)

 

                Lee: Tyler, open up. It’s D-day.

                Tyler: Just a few more hours, I can come up with something.

                Lee: No, Tyler, now. It’s time, open the door, it’s time we sorted this out.

Tyler: Lee, I can’t fucking pay! I can’t give up the money, I can’t give up watch, I’m stuck man, let me write some more. I’ll come up with something, I have something in the works.

Lee: Then open the door and let me read it.

Tyler: No.

Lee: Why not?

Tyler: Because it’s shit. I don’t have anything, Lee. I’m lost, I need more booze.

Lee: Damn it, Tyler, open the God-damn door! (Lee enters room) Now let me see what you’ve got.

Tyler: Here.

Lee: Don’t give it to me, it’s shit.

Tyler: Fine. Fine. Fuck you, I’ll get the fucking watch.

Lee: No, don’t get the watch either. We’re reaching a compromise.

Tyler: I don’t want your pity.

Lee: You’re not getting any, you’re getting what would happen for anyone. Give me the contract. We’re going to read it, carefully. Now, the part about the watch is that I will receive it, "If Lee is correct in Tyler’s ineptitude at writing."

Tyler: Yeah, and I haven’t written anything.

Lee: Not true at all, you’ve put together a few vignettes here and there, and there’s the start of some real dialogue. It’s not as if you haven’t written anything, you just haven’t written a complete play.

Tyler: So I lose.

Lee: Not at all. Here’s the first part of the contract: "This contract herein states the bet to take place between one Lee and one Tyler on the grounds of Tyler’s capability to come up with a decent play in the time span of one week, or seven days." The way I see it, Tyler, and the way any court of law would see it, this has nothing to do with you writing a play, but you just simply having the idea for one.

Tyler: But I didn’t have enough ideas to make a coherent play.

Lee: No? What do you call this? A week of heartache, heartbreak, trials, tribulations, and a man tortured by his own inner demons. Friendship as strong as brotherhood being threatened a thinly lain out bet. A love story about a man wanting the best for the girl. Action, remorse, sorrow. Ty, man, I tell you, you’ve come up with something that has it all.

Tyler: But it was mainly argument, there’s not enough of to hold audience interest, everyone would leave at intermission.

Lee: What about all the other short pieces you wrote? We’ll throw them in the play from time to time, divide up the action, it will add time to the play. Come on Tyler, we can write it together! When you’re hitting roadblocks I’ll fill in the gaps. It can be the first in a series from "Ty-Lee Productions"! And on this play you’ll get first billing for the writing, it’s your story.

Tyler: Really? You mean that?

Lee: Yes! I’ve been taking notes on this all week, what do you say? We can start tomorrow, right after my job interview, alright?

Tyler: Lee, you didn’t lose the bet, you don’t have to-

Lee: I went over this before, man, I did lose the bet. You came up with a more than decent story in the time span of a week, less than even. I lost the bet, so I have to go get a job. Congratulations man. You won the prize, and you kept the girl. By the way, she’s waiting for you. Again, congratulations. Partner. (exit Lee)

Enter Jillian

Tyler: Hey.

Jillian: Hi.

Tyler: So. How long were you standing out there?

Jillian: The whole time.

Tyler: Then you heard?

Jillian: Yes! And I’m so happy for you! I knew you’d get through this!

Tyler: See, I told you Lee was a good guy. I knew he wouldn’t let me down.

Jillian: I knew he wouldn’t either. I’m glad that the actor’s best man is going to be a writer. He’s going to write one hell of a toast.

Tyler: You’re not marrying an actor anymore. It’s actor slash writer from now on. I’m expanding my horizons.

END