4 Men. 2 Women
Simple or Complex Set
Projection Screen Required
Headhunter and Skinner, are the two wealthiest men on earth, now trillionaires a hundred times over who live in the Tower of Power – 1000 stories high above the streets where the “Ants” are protesting down below (Ants being a nickname they call people because they look like black dots from where they live). SleekDesign is their genius Image-maker who hypnotizes entire continents to buy anything they sell, but she is also ruthlessly desperate to become as wealthy and as powerful as her two megalomaniac employers are – and she is smarter and more ruthless than both.
She summons an extra-terrestrial she believes owns huge sectors of the Galaxy and beyond and tells Headhunter and Skinner they are on their way to “do business” with them. Their plan is to use Earth as a down payment on the Galaxy, with hopes to snag the Universe with an eye on owning Godzillion and everyone and everything in it.
Owning only 51% of EarthStock, they first have to kill Mr. Zen Chi, the CEO of Asia and buy up the remaining 49% of EarthStock to own the entire Earth. Good thing SleekDesign, knows him, as Mr. Zen Chi has a little crush on her. So she sets up a meeting, where Skinner brutally murders him in both a funny and horrific display of business cunning and primality. Once they own all of EarthStock, they can begin negotiations with the Extraterrestrials.
Sleekdesign holds the key to getting the extraterrestrials there, but wants a huge percentage of EarthStock – which they give her out of desperation for more, as she gets nothing of Godzillion and must deliver success from the Extra-Extras.
Wyneata arrives and is a Beautiful tall Reptile-human, exotic in every imaginable way, both hideous and super-sexual, who speaks in a poetic language, and moves like a ballerina, seemingly full of wisdom, love, and grace – except when she’s unfed!
She has come, unbeknownst to them, as a savior, because Earth is on the brink of annihilation from all the abuse it has endured by the human race. Like her own species, who destroyed their planet, she is searching through the galaxy to save planets from the same doom. She realizes reaching these two numskulls won’t be easy but she has a plan!
Her plan is to trick Skinner, the greatest Madman Killer Business Creep to ever have lived, filled to his eyebrows with too much Testosterone, trapped in a Gorilla-like body in a business suit, to let her eat his Balls as a sign of good faith to do business to own parts of the Galaxy for unimaginable wealth! Once his testosterone and machismo is removed, she hopes he will begin a transformation into being a human being again, with power, to reverse the devastation their greed has created on the planet, saving the Earth from annihilation.
Skinner clearly resists, but eventually is convinced to give up his juicy gonads for their unearthly quests.
Skinner’s transition after his testicles are poo, is both funny and terrifyingly real, as he struggles through his transition against Headhunter’s continued heartless quest to own everyone and everything. Skinner’s heart and eyes become more and more compassionate and regretful of who he once had become and he is filled with love for his fellow man.
But that poses a serious conflict for Headhunter and SleekDesign’s plans to enslave the universe and beyond.
SleekDesign, being a ruthless cut-throat graphic artist, manipulates the two men, in her quiet desperation, into several contracts to own more and more of EarthStock, then the Void, and wants to kill Skinner and take his place to be Headhunter’s partner. Because she needs organic food and a pedicure and everything has grown so expensive.
We also learn that they all grew up together as children in suburbia and each of them was her lover, but now things have changed.
Wyneata, being a reptile, needs to eat a raw corpse every eight hours. She tells them of her species carnivorous nature – like our puppies and kittens – as her primal nature. She cannot eat a dead corpse – she has to hunt, and then eat it while alive to feel fed. The Tamer, a device she carries and that gives her immense power, tames the primal beast of her nature into sophistication.
SleekDesign cleverly steals the Tamer from her, and Wyneata is helpless – Headhunter learning she must eat every eight hours uses it as leverage trying to get a deal by starving her to own the Galaxy, but Wyneata stalls as she did not come for that, nor does she own anything.
Skinner transforms from a brutal killer, into compassion and love, while Wyneata transforms from Compassion and Love into a Primal and very dangerous extraterrestrial beast while Headhunter attempts to cut a deal to own Godzillion and Sleekdesign wants to be his partner in crime. Blinded by his greed-lust, he continues pushing until Wyneata can no longer stop herself from the primal hunt.
What ensues is a battle for ultimate power and control over everyone and everything as compassion, empathy, love, combat the insidious lechery and primitive lusts of lost human beings seeking to control and own everyone and everything – because they have lost all connection to their deeper humanity in their quest to conquer.
The Ants Revolution has become explosive, so much so that they are now climbing up the 1000 stories of their Tower of Power to the top floor, tearing down walls and doors violently to kill their enslavers for destroying their lives for profit, while Wyneata goes unfed transforming into a bestial dinosaur creature.
Headhunter, and SleekDesign face nature head on with all of its power. Once those victimized are pushed too hard against the wall of indifference, taking too much from them, and resistance towards change grows, something breaks.
In Game, it all breaks.
It breaks beneath the feet of malignant greed, leaving them in the belly of the beast; a past of primordial slime, reptilian consciousness, brutality to survive, indifference, heartlessness, and horrific destruction.
Game, is a hard-hitting and funny sci-fi tragic-comedy adventure with lacerating, violent, rhythmic dialogue of winning, owning, killing and survival, juxtaposed against the poetry of wisdom, gentleness, and the inherent beauty of compassion and love. The play explores relentless, insatiable greed in the Contemporary Corporatocracy by two demented human Oligarchs, who are willing to do anything for power and wealth and its ultimate results on the world they control, and ultimately their own fates.
Until it all turns on them.
To read Excerpts from the play, click Read More below.
Note that formatting in the excerpts are not centered, and instead, left justified.
The PDF of the the play is in correct format.
Skinner, a Gorilla-Type Macho, skinhead, paces and is deeply agitated as he has not had a good kill in over a month. Headhunter, the brains of the duo, is typing away on his laptop, and projections flash on a huge TV up stage Center of various stock numbers, graphs etc. Behind them is the universe – galaxies and space in all their majestic beauty.
Finally, in 3D, a rotating sexy red car fills the screen.
(horny looking at the 3D car on the screen)
Glass sharp Headhunter – slicing. I see her movin’ toward the right score friend. Our vision has been focused. Where else should we steer?
(fast and matter of fact)
We’ll do a prime time double slot national T.V. Social Media, Email Spam, endless robo calls, whatever works, killer hypnosis across networks on every channel and medium on Earth with Sleekdesign’s graphics urging urges to hump out to the nearest dealer. Billions in sales. Make ‘em irresistible to the lonely and stupid ‘cause we care.
And deceptive low interest manipulations.
Nineteen percent over the fair-mark?
Whatever works to triple sales with endless up-sells.
Ohhhhh, I see it like hard-core bondage, S&M, brutal anal porn with relentless strap on pump…
…NOW is all that matters, it’s all up for grabs an’ our hands are out palms up to the heavens we’re so holy.
They slap five. Bump asses in an old college Cheer.
Okay, so autos are employed, let’s talk Portfolio. We need more than jus’ cars to remain di-verse-ohhhh-fide so we don’t get fried on this take-over ride…
…start with Real Estate as foreplay then orgasm out from there…
…Real Estate’s Landed ground. Upping sales and rentals, movin’ the middle slave-class outta safe haven into struggle, make ’em desperate and hopin’ for something better that’ll never come and hike rents an’ mortgages to keep them on the fence between fear and hope…
..Nice Community-Kill! An’ Housing..?
…Got a roof over its head…
…Movin’ up up an’ away down the tracks, through oceans, an’ flight with acceptable preventable death rates. Minimal disaster…
…Filled like a banquet from soup to Magnesia or Pectate, poisons keep things lookin’ and tastin’ MMMM MMMM GOOOOOOD on the shelf way too long without spoilage like a mother-in-law who won’t leave – manufacturer’s mainlining an’ movin’ merchandise like a space launch explosion – Monsanto’s Monopolizin’ the FDA and skirtin’ the EPA run by a jerk-an-ahalf whose deregulatin’ regulations in a feedin’ frenzy at the carcinogen-ridden markets keepin’ our sleepin’ Congress to delabeling the kills, blind consumption and stuffin’ it into their livers like rabbits fuck, legislation humps law suits against any Corp keepin’ them criminally insane and guiltless – to a sweet monopoly gang bang that’s payin’ off like a mud slide on your face.
STOP THE GIGGLES AND READ ME THE NUMBERS… Luxury markets?
Superficial Rainbows soaked through discomforted souls an’ melting passion like a block of ice on the fourth.
Jus’ where it should be – Sick – an’ on the increase locking down prescription addiction subscription like whore-bait, constant commercials with smilin’ liars, voice overs an’ graphics that’ll jus’ kill ya…
Okay, we’re comfy then?
No births, nothing premature, no deformities, we got our shares standing on top of everyone’s shoulders in the international Stock Exchange – EARTHSTOCK – yes, we’re good.
How “good” are we? Specifically?
Routine sanitized entrapment.
So how the fuck we gonna kill China they’re not just going to hand over their country for a blow job like you might to the whore of more over here!
I can bring China here for you to kill.
SKINNER and HEADHUNTER take a few steps in towards her.
In fact, for a little negotiation, a little thank you, I can have him here today.
(pause, swaying like a little girl)
He’s already agreed. ‘Cause he has a lil’ crush on me.
HEADHUNTER AND SKINNER
How much is that gonna cost us, Sleek?
Jus’ ten percent cut of EarthStock. I need a new car and organic shampoo. It’s a bargain.
(a physical tantrum)
CASTRATE ME WITH CLAM SHELLS. FUCK ME WITH A CACTUS. MAKE ME SHIT A PORCUPINE! I’M NO ALLEY GIRL LOOKING FOR A HIGH CLASS FELLATIO! FUCK YOU TEN PERCENT. Give the image-slave-deceptowhiz-kid one percent and make her suck your cock for ten years as part of the agreement without complaint or I’ll dust her.
I love your filth-mouth, Skinner. Macho fever is in your blood, your legs run through the woods barefoot chasing wild pigs with a club for bacon, when there’s a pirate’s chest full of gold and you hop over it blind-bat. Think!
TALK AMERICAN I’M AMERICAN!
Open those gigabyte lovin’ eyes, baby, to see billibyte mega money, honey. Massachusetts. Pennsylvania, Europe! India! Those markets we’ve got bagged, snoring the shit out of us. Once we have a deal with the Extra Extra’s, we can start pursuing galactic markets. That is what’s on the line right now, today, right here. But without me, you might as well go suburbia and turn on the sweet dreamer illusion maker, switching from channel to channel clicking away, burping over a beer, while they dust you off the sofa with your measly embarrassing trillions. I’m not in this to be your slave. Take your self-serving delusions about who I am to your grave for all I care. I’m smarter than you, hotter than you, as good as you are at what I do, and I want MINDLESS AMOUNTS OF MONEY for it. Just… Like… You.
SKINNER is stunned and just stands there fuming. HEADHUNTER casually puts his arm around SLEEKDESIGN and walks her downstage. SKINNER watches, angry.
Alright, alright, calm down Sleek baby, we have a past, you and me, nights of deeply penetrating unspeakables. Communicums. Orgasmatized elevations into realms of transcendental metaphysical sexual deceptions that own a perverse intimacy shit like that. And we could end up enemies if we don’t find some common mattress here we can fuck on for the future.
I suck the babe you are. You cuddle my nipples. I mouth you up and swallow your heritage whole without complaint, looking up like a servant at her God’s feet, that fills up your emptiness, your eternal human lonely-hole, and strokes your ego like Aphrodite at the Gates of Athens, your marriage’s sexless sinkhole of quiet desperation repaired with each roll of my lascivious tongue, your quest for eternal gold lives in my voracious unending lechery for more. I want your love-bux deep in me, like Moby’s dick in a Virgin Madonna, a financial modality that wipes the smirk off the Moana Lisa once and for all and puts it on MY face and in MY purse where it belongs. Common ground never made anyone powerful. You need to evolve into more, own your destiny and destroy what’s in your way, without conscience, inside and outside of your socially perfected pose of concocted tenderness and morality. You taught me that. You need to expand into the possibilities of everlasting infinity and I’ve got the key. Right now. Right here. Today. The Golden Key to the infinite vault of tomorrow that you want to open for your wallet is ME. But because you have resisted this remarkable deal, to own my integrity and dignity, I’m raising my lust to Twenty-five percent of EarthStock, and it will go up five percent per monologue until you sign my contract. So stop the sad-sap-side-stepping-buddy-buddy-yackety-yack-sales-pitching bullshit and start taking my threat like a knife in your eye because I can, with a click, offer this deal to those who want to annihilate asphyxiate assassinate crucify eradicate erase execute liquidate massacre neutralize obliterate slaughter strangle suffocate rub-out snuff-out waste slay zap and do you in for everything you own. Baby. But with the swipe of your gold pen, it can all be yours.
All I want is a huge price for a huge opportunity.
Long treacherous pause between the three.
The cut-throat, lacerating language of Act 1, between the three megalomaniac owners of the USA, is now juxtaposed against the language of WYNEATA who arrives in Act II.
WYNEATA, THE EXTRA TERRESTRIAL, IS HALF HUMAN, HALF REPTILE, and very tall. She stands on a platform high above the three of them below gazing up at here. Behind her is a unviversal backdrop of galaxy’s, stars, nebula in a dazzling display of beauty. If possible she could be seven feet tall using stilts, so long as they do not inhibit her graceful dance-like movements. She is almost super-model beautiful, with long limbs, perfect body, thick black lips, and piercing large eyes, almost like a very tall thin African Goddess. Her features could be a mix of the most exotic human traits, the eyes of the Chinese, the thick sumptuous lips of Africans, the movements of an an Egyptian dancer. She speaks in a loving, beautiful, almost Elizabethan language, and moves like an agile ballerina using her elongated limbs gracefully, sensuously, beautifully, and erotically. Her movements merge synergistically with her words. On the platform she begins to move with gentle, floating-type movements – a dance, singing/speaking in an atonal melody with her words. Her voice ranges from low to high without effort and is as gentle as a Spring breeze.
(smiling to them)
Over the las’ mirage of time
I see their hearts love’d light gone blind
through light years passing lies in kind
whiffs of Spring through light turn’d flesh
of nature’s truth then years of lies
from gifts bestowed with thine eyes
and kisses kiss’d for you to live
in love and kindness and paradise
open and free in wind and sun
as ancient travel’d whiffs of one
and lonely lovely me to see
thus here I am as I’ve arrived
WYNEATA stops dancing and singing, laughs and begins to speak to each one directly.
(to Headhunter and Skinner, smiling and gentle)
Hellooooo dear belligerent children of time. You have become so very deaf to life like slaying madmen attacking the breath that prays amidst the stars, and bores such hunger into perversions gate. With prideless stupor you choose to rip apart silent truths of this miracle I’ve given you throughout the millennium, sleeping so fully while you are awake. (to Sleekdesign, smiling and gentle) Hello, dear, pretty softness and glow turned into a neon light of retaliation for thy pains, thy hideous lost reflections you hath swallowed deep into your heart where its darkness grows like a fungus. A sweet smile on your lips sings to me of an infant’s gleam, hidden beneath such blazen gloss, thy glow now buried deep, thy suit saturated with lost hopeless dreams searching for an identity that mixes the darkest of thy lobe with natures wondrous possibility of sight. Such a paradox it is, trying to control the slayer by becoming him. The empathy once swimming in your human eyes, now hidden so deep under your rigid mask that you cannot remember your purity of heart and gentle kindness of soul.
(to all of them, smiling and gentle)
All of you born to innocence. You hath created yourself to be loved by madmen, to condone thy worth by bowing to their mindlessness, and to conquer that which you despise so much by becoming despicable thieves and murderers worse then all your mentors throughout history. Now, you are cousin to their slaughterous hearts, their crimes have impregnated your soul by lining your bank accounts with deceptions thickened by denial. Such identities love their pretenses of character when they are no more than a breathing confusion – a last desperate hope for happiness pursued backwards as the beauty once inside decomposes, and you seekith blind light, because you are in such pained darkness. Why dearest children of suns, there must be a luster left within thy deep softness that touches even your perplexed wisdom for a gentle stroke you so desperately need. A kind, loving hug. A kiss of redemption. A caress of forgiveness.
They all just look at one another in a long, awkward, other-worldy confused pause.
THIS, is what I gave up fifty fuckin’ percent of Earth for, a slime ball competitor in a lizard suit – you douched me into a nightmare again you corporate clown? What’d you hire an unemployed actress to connive us? Head, this is not an Extraterrestrial CEO here to deal us a hand of eternal wealth. It’s a Halloween costume from Fredericks on ninth, an unemployed actress, a con-bitch-felatio expert, and a lot of fuckin…
Exquisetly spoken… like Dung.
Wyneata secretly has come to Earth to save it from the likes of Headhunter and Skinner, and tricks Skinner into giving up his testicles, by letting her eat them, as a sign of good faith before she unleashes unimaginable wealth they seek. This sequence is funny, and painful, as Skinner is reluctant to say the least. Once it happens, Act 2, scene 2 on is about Transformation. Skinner begins to feel his inner sense of compassion, empathy and regret. While that’s happening, Sleekdesign has stolen Wyneata’s Tamer, a device that gives her unlimited power, and Headhunter has refused to feed Wyneata who has to eat a raw corpse every 8 hours or her metabolism reverts to a Reptilian Dinosaur. She’s going in the opposite direction, in her transformation as they hold back food.
This sequence reveals Skinner’s 360 about face, from Act I where he is a maniacal killer. His features are “gorilla-like” but his voice grows higher, more effeminate, and his body movements follow.
Headhunter and Sleekdesign hold one another at gunpoint, and Wyneata as well. There is a dangerous face-off as:
My friends Bobby Miller and Susan Smith, and chubby Jimmy Williams. Bobby, squishing bugs made you squeamish. Suzy loved to play with her dollies on the front lawn. I liked gardens, growing little seeds all winter to plant in the Spring. I don’t understand what happened to us. Where was my heart? My Mind? Where were yours?
(SKINNER cries, tries to stop, cries harder)
I want his balls back. You brought him from near death, you can put his balls in his sack where they belong! You lied to obtain them, and now he’s changed. We never agreed to THIS. Fix the mess you’ve created.
She’d need The Tamer to replace his manhood, and guess who has The Tamer, BOB. Mr. Bossman might end up a slug on the back porch if he doesn’t start dishin’ out the buxola’s.
Tell Sleek how to do it.
I came here to give Skinner this gift.
YOU CALL THIS A FUCKING GIFT? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? TELL SLEEK HOW TO USE THAT THING TO RETURN MY FRIEND BACK TO BEING MY SKINNER OR YOU CAN MEET YOUR END RIGHT NOW AND I WON’T MAKE IT QUICK!
(screams and rises)
I DON’T WANT THEM BACK ANYMORE!
I didn’t hear that.
I DON’T WANT THEM BACK ANYMORE! LEAVE HER ALONE! LEAVE EVERYONE ALONE!
I heard that but won’t believe it.
I had every intention of doing business with you. He is the only hope mankind has now. You are the cause of all suffering.
One part of me wants to bash something, the other is crying for the victim I want to kill. How is that gonna save anyone? I’m remembering – every detail. And I was never happy. I was always angry and afraid and nervous and self loathing and hid behind my superficial strength – I was an act. Justified by a kill. Like you Bob – justified by a deal. I wasn’t a person – I didn’t know what that felt like anymore.
Remember the brawn you had in your body, the violence in your heart, the greed in your lust. The power of that corruption.
SKINNER closes his eyes looking up.
I’m seeing the future and the past colliding. The rain is washing away my pain, and my eyes and ears and heart feel as if they want to reach out and hug everything and everyone. Kiss the world. Pet the world. Rock the suffering in my arms and wipe away their tears. I want to help the poor, and all those in need, and create equality. I’m regretting all I ever hurt.
(opens his eyes)
That’s how I feel, Bobby.
SKINNER is physically moving like a woman but even more vulnerable and gentle. His inflection and tone are feminine. His physical presence is just as masculine and vicious as before.
(watching SKINNER in disgust)
It’s just a moment of conscience.
HEADHUNTER keeps his gun pointed at WYNEATA who grows more frighteningly reptilian by the second. She sneers, snorts, while still intellectually capable of communication. But that is surrendering to her bare primality quickly.
At the end of the Play, the Ants, a nickname Headhunter calls them because that’s what they look like from the top of his Tower of Power, are human beings who have climbed up to the top of the Tower of Power, and are trying to break through 4 foot steel reinforced concrete walls to kill Headhunter and Skinner. While that’s happening, Wyneata has gone through a transformation from a loving spiritual wise extraterrestrial, into a base reptile, because she has gone unfed. Headhunter and Sleekdesign have been stunned by her, paralyzed, hanging from invisible strings and she is moving towards them, with heavy footsteps, while Headhunter is trying to reach her to stop.
Skinner has been killed by Sleekdesign, lays down stage center.
The set is transformed into a primitive environment with red, and green lighting, exposing the underbelly of corruption and greed.
THE ANTS BANGING ON THE WALL GROWS LOUDER.
WYNEATA stands frozen in her place and roars again, her head twisting like a lion, her body stiff, reptilian, motionless, her chest heaving; we hear her hissing with each breath.
Wyn, stop it your scaring me!
The primitive colors grow more intense.
THE ANTS BANGING ON THE WALL GROWS LOUDER.
WYNEATA begins walking toward them from across the stage, very heavily, and very slowly, one step at a time, lifting one leg and placing it down with a loud thud as it hits the floor, pausing, sniffing them from a distance, hissing, growling hungrily, then walking again, like a Komodo Dragon.
(to WYNEATA, terrified, screaming at her)
I’M THE GREATEST BUSINESSMAN IN HUMAN HISTORY! THE MOST POWERFUL MAN ON EARTH – DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I CAN DO TO YOU! I’M A MILLION TIMES WEALTHIER AND MORE POWERFUL THAN THE GREATEST BUSINESSMAN WHO EVER PILLAGED THIS PLANET FOR PROFIT – GENGHIS KHAN, ASTOR…
(walking heavily her voice unrecognizably harsh and deep) …I must bite into you while you are alive…
Tear into your flesh for profit…
…Break your bones with my teeth for power…
…Drink your blood for pleasure…
…Until I have everything I want for myself…
…GATES, JOBS, ZUCKERBERG…
…And leave you ravaged on the ground to rot…
…You mean nothing to me…
…I’M BIGGER AND MORE POWERFUL THAN…
…Your children mean nothing to me…
…EVERY PION WORTH HUNDREDS OF BILLIONS…
…Your family means nothing to me…
…I COULD BUY AND SELL THEM ALL…
…Your one precious life will end…
…I CAN ORDER THEIR DEATHS OR LET THEM LIVE…
…As I bite into your existence…
THE ANTS BANGING ON THE WALL GROWS VERY LOUD.
(screams at THE AUDIENCE)
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SITTING THERE FOR – SAVE ME! I OWN YOUR JOBS YOUR HOMES YOUR CARS YOUR CHILDREN’S EDUCATION YOUR FOOD YOU FUCKING USELESS SLAVES. YOU’RE ALL FIRED. I’M BUILDING A WALL AND KEEPING YOU OUT OF MY COUNTRY!
THE ANTS BANGING ON THE WALL GROWS LOUDER.
HEADHUNTER sees WYNEATA’S viciousness as she slowly moves towards him, and his terror grows. They glare at one another, until HEADHUNTER breaks.
OK… OK… Wyneata… OK… I’m sorry… I… I lost my head. I’m just like you said. Human. I didn’t mean any of it. I’m sorry. You’ve made your point – you win! OK? Whatever you want – I can make it happen. Let’s have a meeting in the morning on your terms. We’ll give it all back! Whaddyasay?
WYNEATA moves towards them.
…I have a wife and two beautiful kids. They’re so innocent and they need their daddy. I’m their daddy.
I… DO… NOT… CARE… ABOUT… YOU…
WYNEATA continues towards them viciously growling, hissing, snorting and drooling.
ANTS BANGING ON THE WALL GROWS VERY LOUD and WE HEAR them breaking through the wall for the first time – some brick and mortar and plasterboard flies onto the stage from off stage left, dust rises, then the voices, and saws, are louder, but not overpowering the scene.
The PRIMITIVE JUNGLE SOUNDS and JUNGLE COLORS continue to evolve growing deeper and more primitive and dangerous.
HEADHUNTER and SLEEKDESIGN pull at their invisible ropes, terrified, frantic, grunting in pain, stuck and screaming for help.
WYNEATA continues towards them, SKINNER’S CORPSE is downstage and between her, HEADHUNTER and SLEEKDESIGN.
As WYNEATA is almost on top of them, the primitive lighting slowly fades with each of her final steps, until she is face to face with them in profile to the audience, in a pool of red and green light that also bounces off SKINNER’S corpse. The abyss behind them, swirling galaxies, stars, and nebula hang in the distance, illuminating the stage behind the actors.
WYNEATA growls and opens her mouth wide bearing her teeth and raises her arms up, finger’s clawed, ready to lunge in. HEADHUNTER and SLEEKDESIGN pull back in complete terror.
ALL FREEZE in their positions.
HOLD ON THIS TABLEAU.
The lights fade to black as the abyss behind them grows brighter and brighter, swirling galaxies, stars, and nebula hang in the distance, creating a silhouette of their image.
HOLD ON THEIR SILHOUETTE.
THE STOCK TICKER fades in, moving from stage right to left. It will continue through the Curtain Call and as the audience leaves the theater.
END OF PLAY
Legal Notice: These works are copyrighted multiple times, including several versions of each script, most dating back to the 1980's and 1990's as well as every one of them in 2020. Downloading any of my work registers important digital identification information. Scripts can be read, but if you want to use parts of them, or entire scripts for any reason, you will need a contract signed by me agreeing to it. Thanks for taking an interest.
To Obtain Rights to use my scripts please contact me and we will take it from there. Thank you.