Copyright © 2019 Johann Tienhaara
SETTING: An open concept office with no windows; grey cubicles, Focus Group Approved Beige walls, and a central life-sized poster of a man titled "Robert Propst: Thought Leader". A vending machine adorns one side wall, and an inspirational poster with typos in it decorates stage right: "Dedication, heart and perseverance". Mobile computers and sheaves of paper cover a large open table at centre stage, surrounded by red-and-chrome wheeled Ergognomics chairs with headrests in the shapes of pointed hats. A large flatscreen computer monitor at the rear of the stage, to the right of the Robert Propst poster, lists this week's New York Times bestsellers, and tallies the number of copies sold; the tally for each book changes every few minutes, and the list is re-sorted in order of most copies sold. One door opens in front of the vending machine, the other just beyond the misspelled inspirational poster at the opposite side of the stage.
SARAVAN is seated to the left of the table in front of a laptop computer.
SONJA enters through the door at stage right, wearing a winter coat and carrying a briefcase.
SARAVAN: Good m-m-m-morning, Sonja. [DIRECTOR'S NOTE: Saravan has numerous facial tics, such as squeezing his eyes tightly shut when he stutters, shaking his head as if to clear away the stutters, and making "mmmm" noises from his throat. These are to be portrayed throughout the performance.]
SONJA: Good morning, Saravan. I'm glad you're back. Are you feeling better?
SONJA stops to SARAVAN's right, facing the audience. She begins pulling out a mobile computer and papers from her briefcase before setting it on the floor.
SARAVAN: Oh yes, very much so. Thank you, S-S-S-Sonja. And you? How are you? And your delightf-f-f-ful children?
SONJA takes off her winter coat, places it on the pointed red hat of the Ergognomics chair next to SARAVAN, and sits.
SONJA: Oh, you know.
BRIAN enters through the door at stage right. His hair is greasy and undirected. He wears a windbreaker over a three piece suit. He stoops as he walks. One arm is full of papers, the other holds a computer tablet.
SONJA: Hi, Brian.
SARAVAN: G-g-g-good morning, Brian.
BRIAN sits down wordlessly on the right side of the table, still holding the papers and tablet. He sighs.
MAX enters, flinging open the door beside the vending machine. A plume of smoke enters with him. He is wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses, but carries nothing.
BRIAN gasps and hurls his papers into the air.
MAX does not notice, but proceeds to the table, puts his leather jacket on the Ergognomics chair, and sits to the right of Sonja.
SARAVAN: Good morning M-m-m-max.
BRIAN begins picking up the papers he has scattered all around the room.
MAX: What's up. How close are we to finishing this monstrosity. I have to pick up Min from the spa at 11. Tell me we'll be done this atrocious abortion by then.
SONJA: Well, Max --
MAX: Whatever, let's just get on with it.
SONJA: We got the focus group results from Chapter 18 late last night.
MAX: Oh, Christ Almighty. And what do the sausage brains want us to change this time?
SONJA: They want us to remove the wet T-shirt scene.
SARAVAN: Wet t-t-t-T-shirt?
MAX: No, we can't remove the wet T-shirt scene. It stays.
SARAVAN: Since w-w-w-when did we have a --
SONJA: Max, they said it provoked strong negative responses from the more liberal members of the focus group.
MAX: Horse manure. It's supposed to be the romance novel for everyone. You'll never get men to read a --
SONJA: Even from the men.
MAX: Who invited the gays to the focus group?
SONJA: Max, don't be so nihilistic.
BRIAN returns to his seat, having restored all of the papers to the crook of his arm.
SARAVAN: I really don't t-t-t-think --
MAX: Everything I do to try to make this novel fun for normal people -- that stupid focus group is such a killjoy. Nobody is ever going to read this turd.
BRIAN begins searching through the papers in the crook of his elbow.
SONJA: It's not meant to be fun. And it's not just a romance novel. It's The Most Heart-Breaking Love Story Ever Told.
BRIAN finds the sheet he was looking for.
MAX: It breaks my heart that our creative juices are being sopped up by those moronic sponges.
BRIAN hands MAX a paper.
MAX: What the hell's this?
SONJA: Is that your alternative scene, Brian?
BRIAN nods and hands SARAVAN a paper. SARAVAN begins reading.
MAX: "...The skies opened up, and flooded the earth with snow. Gillian rubbed the snow against her body. She yearned to be with William. If only she could let him know! She lowered herself to the ground and made a snow angel. Then she cried, and the tears froze on her cheeks like dewdrops stuck in time." This is awful.
BRIAN shrugs.
SONJA: It was awful before.