The Barricade

(A group of people all lined up together. All roles gender neutral except Harry. Number 1 paces back and forth up the line.)

Number 1: I'm not sure about this. I don't know how much longer we can hold out.
Number 2: We've been in tougher situations than this before. They've thrown everything at us, but we're still here! Whatever comes down that tunnel, you hold your ground you hear me!
Soggy: I'm scared! I'm coming apart!
Number 2: Bunch up, Soggy. We came down here to do a job, and no matter what happens we'll do our duty!
(Harry giggles.)
Number 2: Shut up Harry!...Here it comes!
(There is the very loud sound of a toilet flushing. The group locks arms facing forward. They wobble a bit and start to come undone. Harry flies backwards.)
Number 1: Harry!
(Number 1 follows.)
Soggy: This is it!
Number 2: Hold on Soggy! You're not torn yet!
(Soggy flies away. Number 2 tries to hold on by itself but can't take the pressure alone.)
Number 2: OH SHIT!
(Number 2 goes tumbling away as well.)

End Scene

---

An Afternoon Drive

(Gertrud and Peter are sitting in a car driving.)

Gertrud: My, my, Peter, it sure is pouring down hard.
Peter: Gertrud, I have something I need to say. And if I don't say it now I-
Gertrud: My feet are cold!
Peter: What?
Gertrud: My feet are cold. I just realized it, and I must do something about it right away.
Peter: Well?
Gertrud: And if I don't do anything about it, I will be miserable. I will go on and on knowing that my feet are sitting there cold, and I will be miserable.
Peter: Well, alright.
(They ride for a bit not saying anything.)
Peter: Were you going to say something?
Gertrud: No I don't think so. Were you?
Peter: No. I don't think I was.
(They ride a bit more.)
Gertrud: Lovely day isn't it?

End Scene

Limelight

A young(ish) woman is leaning against a street lamp (or the proscenium if you'd like - against something) dressed for winter - heavy coat, hat, scarf. She's reading a book and obviously frozen through. A man of similar age passes, sees her shivering, and stops.)

Man: Excuse me.

She looks up.

Woman: yes?

Man: You're freezing.

Woman: I noticed.

Man: Why are you out here in the cold?

Woman: I'm on break.

Man: On break?

Woman: I work there. (She gestures downstage)

Man: That's a book store.

Woman: Yeah.

Man: ...but you're out /

Woman: (interrupting) Yeah. They don't like us to read in there.

Man: But it's a bookstore.

Woman: Yeah.

Man: Filled with books. Stacked with 'em.

Woman: Yeah.

Man: And they don't/

Woman: (interrupting) No.

Man: Oh. But...that's nuts.

Woman: Yeah.

Pause

Man: It's freezing. Why are you out here?

Woman: Same reason I work in there.

Man: You like books.

Woman: Love them. pause. Why'd you stop?

Man: Excuse me?

Woman: Why did you stop and talk to me?

Man: I wanted to know what you were reading.

Woman: Because you like book people.

Man: Love them.

Woman: ...oh. she smiles.

fade to black

A Lovely Day

Parts: Sunshine, Modernist

(Modernist enters, blinking as if it is a bright day)

Modernist: Ach, the sun is hurting my eyes! Daylight is such an outmoded concept!

(Sunshine enters, with a sword)

Sunshine: I beg to differ, dear friend. Today is a lovely day, perfect for a quarrel! Tell me, have you offended the honor of any ladies, perchance?

Modernist: (scoffs) Oh, a fight during daylight? What an outmoded concept! Nobody fights during the day anymore! All the good fights happen at night, with precision bombing and such.

Sunshine: Well, we need a well-lit day if we are to quarrel with swords.

Modernist: Fight with swords! What an outmoded concept! Nobody fights with swords anymore.

Sunshine: Well, it's not very honorable otherwise. Where's the honor in killing a man if you're not fighting fairly?

Modernist: Oh, honor! What an outmoded concept! Nobody fights fair anymore!

Sunshine: Hmmm, I hadn't considered that. You may have... a point. En garde!

(Sunshine stabs Modernist, he falls to the ground dying.)

Modernist: Oh, death! What an outmoded concept!

END SCENE

The shortest zombie play ever written

Scene: wreckage

Bob: Jerry! Are you alive!?

Jerry (hoarsely): No.

exeunt

The Last Straw

One man in uniform stands two feet from from a group of four huddled closely together. He wears a dour face, the others, a face of fear.

Man dressed in uniform: YOU WILL EACH PICK ONE STRAW FROM MY HAND! SHORT STRAWS INDICATE DEATH, LONG, LIFE.

Man walks to group.

The closest person to the man in uniform slowly reaches for the first straw.

Uniform: QUICKLY!

Closest person finishes drawing the straw. The next rushes to draw his.

They are happy to find that their straws are the same length.

Uniform: Good, good.

The next person slowly and nervously approaches the uniformed man. He can't make up his mind over which of the two straws he should pick.

Uniform: Shoot him, he's taken too long.

The nervous one lets out a scream and begins to run as gunshots play over the speakers.

The last one quickly picks one of the two remaining straws and is relieved to see that all three straws are the same length. He shakes the hands of the other two wildly, all of them happy to be alive.

Uniform: Thank you all for humoring me.

The three turn slowly as the uniformed man smiles and opens his hand:

Uniform: Every straw was the short straw.

fade to dark amid screaming and gunshots.

Wedding

One and Two are women of the same age, dressed in identical outfits. One wears a hat.

---

Lights up. One and Two are standing back to back, close but not quite touching, in centre stage. One faces stage right, Two faces stage left.

Two turns her head to face the audience.

Two: It seemed to happen so suddenly.

Church Bells start to chime.

Two: Last time I thought about weddings I was at school and the nearest I'd got to a proper relationship was seeing Hugh Grant on a big screen in his pyjamas.

A pause.

Cheering is heard from the wings at stage right.

Two: Next thing I know, ten years have flashed past.

One: (towards wings at stage right) Hip hip...hooray!

Two: Where I used to get letters from friends, all I see now is invitations, wedding lists. All the conversations are about honeymoons, babies, houses, the good schools.

One: (mimes air kissing both cheeks) Lovely to see you! Yes, it's been too long. Mmm, must see you more often.

Two: (Angrily) It feels so false.

One gasps and reaches out just in time to catch the bouquet thrown from the wings at stage right.

One is triumphant. She turns to face the audience and then turns to face Two, holding her spoils.

Two grunts with disgust. She stares for a moment at One, and swiftly exits stage left.

Blackout

CRISIS!!

A NERDY YOUNG MAN SITS AT A TABLE. HE IS OBVIOUSLY AGITATED. HE ATTEMPTS TO LIGHT A CIGARETTE TO CALM HIS NERVES AND FAILS BADLY (crumpling cigarette or perhaps lighting sleeve on fire, etc.).

MAN: God damn everything! My life is a mess! Why do I even bother to live anymore?!

WOMAN ENTERS. SHE RESEMBLES THE MAN BUT WEARS CONTRASTING COLORS.

WOMAN: Hello, Harry.

MAN IS INTRIGUED.

MAN: How did you know my name?

WOMAN: I am your anima: the shadowy feminine aspect of your unconscious. I know everything about you.

MAN IS NERVOUS.

MAN: Oh, hell...

WOMAN: I have come to help you. I know you're very unhappy, but I think if you let me into your life, you'll attain inner happiness, insight...enlightenment!

MAN: Do you have a match?

WOMAN: I don't smoke.

MAN: Figures.

MAN SHOOTS SELF.

Brainstorm

by Joe Bryant

An office meeting. Everyone sits except Pat who is leading the meeting, perhaps with some kind of flipchart. All roles gender neutral.

Pat: So, what I think we need to do is brainstorm ideas...

There is a general hubbub of agreement, but one dissenting voice stands out:

Chris: Hah, "brainstorm."

Everyone turns to look at Chris, who feels obliged to explain.

Chris: Why is it that giving something a silly name makes it a legitimate thing to do? I mean, you're just going to draw a load of nonsense diagrams which will be of no help at all, but because it's called "brainstorming" we all go along with it.

Sam: Like snowboarding.

Pat: Hah, yeah, if some guy nails his feet to a plank of wood and throws himself down a mountain, he's an idiot, but call it "snowboarding" and it's a SPORT.

Rob: Powernapping.

Pat: Powernapping! Jim isn't dozing off, he's POWERNAPPING so it's alright.

Jim is startled awake by his name.

Jim: I'll have it done by Tuesday!

Pat: Shut up Jim.

Sam: Speed dating.

Pat: Yeah, trying to chat up twenty people in one night isn't desperate, it's speed dating!

Mike: Sodomy!

Startled silence for a beat, maybe two.

Pat: So I think we can get this done for quarter three...

Hubbub of agreement.

END.

---

Inspired by a catbox comment of fondue's.

Before the Law

(Vor dem Gesetz)

by Franz Kafka

adapted for the minute stage by Waldemar Exkul

[A Suppliant, old and infirm. A Sentry, stern and impassive. Behind the Sentry, the suggestion of an open door.]

SUPPLIANT: I do not have much longer to live, I think.

[The Sentry looks at the Suppliant and nods. A short pause.]

SUPPLIANT: May I go in now?

SENTRY: No.

[A slightly longer pause.]

SUPPLIANT: There is... something I would like to ask you.

[The Sentry looks at the Suppliant.]

SUPPLIANT [effortfully]: In all these years I have sat here before this door, waiting to be admitted to the Law, I have never seen anyone else come here seeking entry. Why is that? Doesn't everyone strive to reach the Law?

SENTRY: This door was made for you, and you alone.

[The Suppliant looks at the Sentry, then, overcome by the revelation, dies. The Sentry bends down and, almost gently, uses two fingers to lower the Suppliant's eyelids.]

SENTRY: I will go and shut it now.

The following play has everything: suspense, casual racism, and jokes that Americans won't get. It's a squeeze, but you could cut the minicab gag and the admittedly hackneyed 'commercial break/repeated line' gag.

Untitled (Sci-fi)

THE PLAYERS: CAPTAIN, NAVIGATOR, SCIENCE OFFICER, TACTICAL OFFICER

THE SCENE: The bridge of a spaceship, such as those seen in popular serialised television shows. CAPTAIN is seated centre-stage. TACTICAL OFFICER and NAVIGATOR are seated in front. SCIENCE OFFICER is stands at off to one side at the back.

CAPTAIN: (to NAVIGATOR) Mister Crabs, lay in a course for Omega Persei.

NAVIGATOR: Yes sir.

SCIENCE: Sir, I'm picking something up on the long range scanner.

CAPTAIN: Is it a minicab company?

SCIENCE: What?

CAPTAIN: I mean, on screen.

SCIENCE: Main screen turn on, sir.

(The crew react to the big, alarming thing on screen.)

CAPTAIN: What is it, number one?

SCIENCE: Fascinating. According to my readings, it's a Stu Francis Anomaly.

CAPTAIN: You mean, (pause) a rip in the tissue of the space-time continuum?

SCIENCE: That's right sir.

CAPTAIN: (dramatically, a la Zap Brannigan) My god, we'll be crushed like grapes!

(dramatic chords denoting cliffhanger, commercial break)

CAPTAIN: (as before) My god, we'll be crushed like grapes!

CAPTAIN: (regains composure) Tactical guy, how are we going to get out of this one?

TACTICAL: (outrageously Italian) I say we turn around and-a go really fast the other way.

CAPTAIN: (snorts dismissively) Maybe that's how they do things on your vaguely allegorical planet, Giuseppe. (to NAVIGATOR) Crabsy?

NAVIGATOR: Sir, if we expediently orient the foremost protuberance of the vessel at an angle diametrically opposed to the nexus of the African American cavity and inducing maximum motive force -

SCIENCE: Of course!

CAPTAIN: Make it happen!

TACTICAL: (aside) Ahh, this is-a bullshit!

Thinking Aloud

Phil and Cathy stand talking. Behind Phil at a small distance stand four voices - Compulsion, Paranoia, Violence, and Mother. Each time they speak, they take a step toward and talk a bit louder.

Cathy: I'm glad I got a chance to talk to you alone. I just wanted to thank you for taking me out last night; I had a wonderful time.

Phil opens his mouth to reply. Paranoia interrupts, speaking quietly.

Paranoia: She's lying.

Phil: Yes, it was a fantastic evening. What did you think of the play?

Cathy: I thought that some of the dialogue seemed --

The remainder of Cathy's reply is lost (though her mouth continues to move as though she is still speaking) as Mother speaks.

Mother: You took her out and you didn't bring her home to meet me? Are you ashamed of your own mother?

Compulsion: She's blinked 12 times in the last five seconds.

Paranoia: It's because she's lying. About the play, too, she doesn't know anything about plays. She just wants you to think she's intelligent.

Phil is becoming visibly distraught as the voices continue speaking.

Phil: Yes, yes I... I know what you mean.

Violence: Look at her, so small and frail. You could kill her right here, right now, and nobody would notice.

Compulsion: Two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, sixty-four...

Cathy: You know, I was thinking... What are you doing tonight? I hear there's a great --

Cathy's sentence is lost again.

Mother: Don't you dare make plans for tonight, you know that Uncle Bernie is coming to visit!

Another voice, Libido, joins the four behind Phil.

Libido: Wow, she's really hot for you! Do you see the way she's staring? Hoo, boy!

Compulsion: Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six... I wish she would quit blinking.

The voices are all crowded around Phil, almost shouting. Cathy's mouth is still moving as she speaks, unheard.

Violence: I can show you how to stab her to make her bleed. See where the shoulder meets the neck...?

Mother: Dinner is at seven. Make sure you're on time, your father hates it when you're late.

All the voices begin speaking at once, shouting to be heard over one another.

Paranoia: Don't listen to anything she's saying! It's all a lie!

Libido: She wants you bad. Skip the date and take her straight home!

Mother: Are you listening to me? Don't ignore me, young man!

Violence: Do it quick, I hate it when they scream.

Compulsion: Two thousand forty-eight! Four thousand ninety-six! Eight thousand one hundred ninety-two!

Phil turns to face the voices.

Phil (angrily): Shut up! All of you, just shut up!

The voices disperse. As they go, Cathy joins them.

Phil (turning to face Cathy): I'm sorry, what were you saying? I got -- (seeing that he is alone) distracted...

Scene ends with Phil alone, looking confused.

---

Speed Dating

A woman is standing in front of a line of men, all of whom are holding signs facedown.

A buzzer sounds. Woman moves to the first man in line. He turns up his sign so the audience can see it. It says "Married."

Married: I'm not interested in a serious relationship, but I'm looking for someone I can have fun with.

A buzzer sounds. Woman moves down the line to the next man. He turns up a sign that says "Abusive."

Abusive: My last girlfriend dumped me and now she won't talk to me. I'm just looking for someone to talk to.

Buzzer. Woman moves on. "Womanizer."

Womanizer: I'm looking for someone who can dance after a few drinks.

Buzzer. Woman on. "Boring."

Boring: I work at the law firm downtown, I'm an accountant. I spend a lot of time working in my garden on the weekends.

Buzzer. Woman moves on. "Stalker."

Stalker: Hey, my name is -- Oh, wow! Imagine meeting you here! It's really nice to see you.

Buzzer. Woman moves on. "Insecure."

Insecure: Hey. Heh, I'm really nervous. Not even sure what I'm doing here, really. I just--

Insecure is interrupted by the buzzer. Woman moves on. "Closet Homosexual."

Closet Homosexual: My friends said this would be a good place to meet some nice girls.

Woman moves on. "Insensitive."

Insensitive: Wow, you're really pretty. I'm surprised you don't already have a date.

Buzzer. Woman moves on to the final man. When he holds up his sign, it is blank. Woman reacts for the first time, holding out her hand as though offering a handshake.

Woman: Hi... I'm Nancy.

Buzzer. Scene ends.

---

Many thanks to Jophur

Dinner Hour

by maxClimb

Scene: Longish line of people at a grocery check-out. A young couple with a hand basket of items are one customer back from the front of the line. She's ahead, turned toward He a bit.

He: So then the next slide is that 'snake eating its tail' thing, the Oro-Barrosa - always creeps me out.

She: The 'Ouroboros'.

He: Whatever. Scarfing till it's just a dot of a head. Yuck.

She: There's more to it than that...

He: I mean, it would hurt! It's self-destructive!

She: What'd he say about it?

He: Oh... ancient symbol... self-consuming lust... gateway to the next world. Usual mumbo-jumbo. (nods toward counter) We're up.

She: (unloading basket) It's eternity - like the snake doesn't just chomp away blindly...

He: I'm gonna chomp away tonight - I'm starved! What's cookin', anyway?

She: (Holds up flat ovoid pack containing a large sausage, one end nearly touching the other) Kielbasa and Red Cabbage, old family recipe.

He: God! It's everywhere!

She: Wha...? (looks at sausage pack, tosses it on counter) Oh. It isn't circular, and there's no head, silly. And I'm counting on leftovers, so restrain yourself.

He: Don't worry!

She: So anyway, the snake only takes a little bite, digests it and makes more snake - that's the positive view. The world creating itself, from itself.

He: (with dry sarcasm) Gee Professor! (dismissively) Makes no sense to me. (to Clerk) Yo dude, 'sup?

Clerk: Hey man. Off tonight? (rings up groceries)

He: Yeah. I got can alley in the AM, then Express Line till noon.

Clerk: Killer. I got graves all next week.

He: Enough in there for my paycheck? (endorses check and hands it to clerk)

Clerk: (smirking) Enough for what YOU get.

He: Keeps us going.

She: (smiles wanly) Income just meets outgo.

Clerk: Never any different. Here's your change.

He: (pockets bills, He and She pick up bags) Thanks, bro! Laters.

(They walk a couple of steps)

She: I just remembered! We're outta' TP!

He: Shit! I guess we'll have to get back in line...

(blackout)

I ♥ geeks.
By: Sly Penguin

There are two t-shirt clad persons, one male one female, sitting close to each other both playing videogames on the floor facing the front of the stage with a dim blue light emulating a television set.

female:(with excitement gesturing to screen) HAHA! YES! DOUBLE KILL!
male:(with excitement gesturing to female) HAHA! YES! BOOBIES!

to black

A Play Without Actors

Preamble and Preparation

This play is a play "without acting". The actors play the stage directions and other explanations written in the script, but not the role of the characters, as the characters have no speaking lines, and the story does not require any.

There are 10 actors, called for ease of reference 1 through 10.
They are each wearing a letter on the front and a letter on the back (this can be done in various ways - see * below).
They are wearing the following letters (front, back)

1. S, E
2. R, X
3. O, E
4. I, U
5. T, N
6. N, T
7. B, C
8. E, H
9. A, S
10. R, D

The play

The stage begins empty. The actors will arrange themselves on stage to spell words, in the following way: 3f means actor number 3 stands with his front facing the audience (showing the letter O). 7b means 7 stands with his back towards the audience (showing the letter C). They will stand in the order that I have written. Once they arrange themselves (which should take about 5 seconds), they stand still to let the audience read what is written for about 3 seconds and then rearrange themselves to form the next line. During the arranging, the actors which are not in the line leave the stage. I will not explicitly write who enters and who exits at each line, because it is obvious. I will leave it up to the director, or leader to decide exactly how this will be done.

9f 7b 5f    4f
A  C  T     I

9b 7b 3b 5b 8f   4f
S  C  E  N  E    I

9f   7b 3f 4b 2f 5f
A    C  O  U  R  T

1b 5b 6b 3b 2f    7b 8b 9f 10b
E  N  T  E  R     C  H  A  D 

3b 6f 5f 1b 2f    10b 8f 7f
E  N  T  E  R      D  E  B

1b 5b 6b 3b 2f    7f 8f 9f 10f
E  N  T  E  R     B  E  A  R 

The people spelling BEAR move offstage to the left, and the people spelling ENTER move to the (audience's) right and are joined by 4, and spell:

1b 2b 3b 4b 5b 6b
E  X  E  U  N  T
 

The people spelling BEAR - 7f, 8f, 9f and 10f enter from the left, chasing the people spelling EXEUNT off the stage, until they have all exited on the right.

i.e.

Exeunt, pursued by a bear.

---

* This is, ideally, a letter printed on the front and back of a shirt. If not, then a paper/cardboard with the letter written on it, attached to the shirt somehow (stapled, for example). If not, then the actor could hold two pieces of cardboard - one in the front and one in the back. Last resort - a piece of paper with a letter on the front and a letter on the back - the actor remains facing the audience and flips the paper over to display the correct side.

---

Note that the actors spelling ENTE switch around for the 3 consecutive lines of ENTER. This is for comic effect (and not optional). It's amusing to see people changing places like crazy and ending up spelling the same word.

Note to the director: this is much easier to pull off than it may at first appear. All each actor has to remember is 7 positions. Also, I have arranged it so that the movement of the actors (except for intentional ENTE switching, which is very easy) is minimal. For example, between ACT I and SCENE I - 9 and 5 turn around, 5 moves a bit to the right and 3 and 8 enter. Likewise from ENTER CHAD onward, the two groups (1,2,3,4,5,6 and 7,8,9,10 stay distinct).

Dad: I hope you don't think you're going out wearing that.

Kimmi: Dad, all the kids are wearing it!

Dad: I don't care, I will not have my daughter out in public looking like a cheap whore.

Kimmi: I am NOT a cheap whore. I hate when you call me that.

Kimmi: This cost me 37 dollars at Victor... I mean, The Gap.

Kimmi: Plus, you should see what Candi's wearing. I look like a fricking nun compared to her.

Dad: Hmm... that's a good idea. Maybe we should send you to a convent.

Kimmi: MOoooOM! Dad's at it again!

Kimmi: Listen, I'd love to chat about my parents' sexual inadequacies, but I've got to run. I need your car keys and $40

Kimmi: Be home by midnite, I promise.

Dad: Car's in the shop.

Kimmi: SHIT DAD YOU ARE WORTHLESS

Kimmi: Mom..... can I borrow the *sigh* van?

Mom: (offstage) Ask your father, dear.

Kimmi: I'm running away and living with Katie!

Kimmi: storms out of the house

Dad: Katie... Katie... Didn't I see her at the strip club?

Dad: Leggy blonde, nice rack?

Kimmi: GRRRR!

Kimmi: flips open cell phone

Kimmi: Katie? Yeah, they're being stupid again. I hate my life. Can you pick me up?

Dad: calling out the door If you get pregnant, don't bother coming home! Your mother will kill you!

Kimmi: I don't care -- You always liked Barbie best.

Dad: Sheesh... kids these days. Can't even take a joke.

Kimmi: I'm getting this all down in my diary. You'll pay.

Dad: (yelling over TV) since when were you allergic to dairy?

Kimmi: (into the cell phone) Katie, get here quick. I'm losing it.

Dad: Don't forget your tampons! Oh, and your acne cream! It's that time of month again, isn't it?

Mom: (offstage) You two!

Kimmi: God. I hate you.

Kimmi: I so want to die right now.

Dad: Love you too, dear! Have a nice time!

Kimmi: (sotto voce) Mom, can you hear me? Dad's screwing the au pair!

Aionaever deserves most of the credit for this. Thanks, man. You are the funniest IM buddy EVAR.

Best of Bondo

INT Hair Salon

Three hairdressers stand behind their customers, facing the stage. The customers' faces are obscured by plastic hairnets, towels, and pore-refining masks. The hairdressers are occupied with various cutting, gooping or texturizing operations.


LAUREN: Any new tech today, David?

DAVID: I'm still playing with yesterday's product. Lot 49. I notice about a half-blend on deploy, low sheen and, like, zero effective waste before the cutoff. This is some cutthroat product if we're talking waste reclamation...

LAUREN, absently: I think I have a build kit here somewhere.

DAVID: ...which is actually a fairly exciting development when you consider the fact that for a week our killfloor has been literally covered, like literally completely obscured by spent product.

LAUREN, distracted: And come to think of it what ever happened to my ion trimmer?

DAVID: Now if you want to get nanoscale, and if you've got access to Corporate's metabase...

LAUREN, to her customer: Tell me if I nick you. You may feel a little prick.

DAVID, interrupting himself for a knowing sidelong glance at LAUREN: I think we both know comes next, honey.

LAUREN is peevishly silent.

DAVID turns.

DAVID: Bondo, buddy, what do you think of that?

BONDO, to audience: I really need to get the fuck out of here.

"Convoluted"

A man is sitting on a bench in the park, reading a book. He is wearing very ordinary, dull clothes, and a watch.

Offstage, there is a metallic vwa-ZING noise and a flash of light.

Enter a woman, bouncy and enthusiastic, preferably wearing a brightly-coloured dress.

WOMAN: See? It works! I said it would work!

MAN: (looking up) I'm sorry, what?

WOMAN: My time machine works! Come and see!

MAN: (thinks she's a weirdo) Erm, no thanks.

WOMAN: What's the matter? Don't you believe me?

MAN: (trying to get rid of her) Oh yes, yeah... I'm just... busy. I've got this book I'm reading.

WOMAN: (cross) You don't believe me!

MAN: Well, no.

WOMAN: All right. I'll prove it to you. Wait right there. I'll go back in time thirty seconds.

She runs off stage the way she came. The man watches her go. There is another vwa-ZING and flash of light. He waits for a few seconds. Then he checks his watch. Then he opens his book again.

MAN: (to himself, while reading) Where'd she come from?

Then he thinks about it a bit more carefully, frowns and puts his book down.

MAN: Wait. Where did she come from?

"Countdown"

A villain - black clothes, eye patch - is standing with a woman not far from him. He is pointing a gun at her, and she has her hands up. While she stands there, he uses one hand to operate a console next to him. On the console, a large red timer begins to tick down from sixty seconds. (If this makes the play impossible to fit into the 60-second timeframe, best solution is to make the timer run faster than reality.)

VILLAIN: The countdown is set! In less than a minute, I'll have destroyed the world!

WOMAN: You'll never get away with this! Jack Hero will save me!

VILLAIN: I'd like to see him try.

Time passes. Nothing happens.

Forty-ish seconds to go:

WOMAN: He's usually here by now.

VILLAIN: Yeah, yeah. I, er... yeah.

The villain and the woman get increasingly bored. His gun arm wavers. Her arms get tired.

Twenty seconds to go:

VILLAIN: He's cutting it close.

WOMAN: He'll be here! Don't think he w--

VILLAIN: (interrupting her) Yeah, yeah, I know.

With five seconds to go, a hero - suit trousers, flowing white dress shirt open three buttons - bursts in from the side. The villain turns to shoot the hero, but the hero shoots the villain first. The hero presses a button on the console, stopping the countdown with one second to spare, grabs the woman by the hand and races off with her.

"Planet Of The Socks"

The scene is any combination of a washing machine, a blackboard with diagrams of socks and washing machines and equations on, and lots and lots of socks. A young professor is talking to an older general, with a big moustache. Both are standing.

PROFESSOR: Well, general, we've finally scientifically confirmed why socks disappear in the wash. By putting some sensors inside this washing machine, we found that if you spin a stainless metal drum at a few hundred RPM, then inject a flow of ions in the form of a stream of hot water, it's the ideal way to create a miniature wormhole. A wormhole which does indeed occasionally swallow up a sock. One sock every seven point four loads, to be exact.

GENERAL: This is fascinating work, professor.

PROFESSOR: I wouldn't start celebrating yet, sir. We've discovered something rather alarming. You see, on some of our test runs, our washing came back not with a missing sock, but an extra one.

GENERAL: Are you sure you didn't just lose one?

PROFESSOR: Yes, sir, we count extremely carefully.

GENERAL: Was it one of ours?

PROFESSOR: No, sir. We ran tests. They look exactly like human socks. And they're always disguised to look like whatever socks are nearby, so until now nobody has ever counted carefully enough to notice that they've gained a sock instead of losing one. We think this has been happening for years. All over the world. They've been infiltrating their way into our sock drawers and onto our feet. Waiting for the moment to strike together. They're aliens. Dormant alien larvae. It's an invasion, general. And it could already be too late to stop them.

During this, the general has turned away casually. Unseen by the professor, he slips a large red football sock over his arm.

GENERAL: That's a very interesting story, professor. How many people have you told?

PROFESSOR: Just you, sir.

GENERAL: Excellent.

He lunges for the professor's throat and chokes him with his sock-covered hand.

A Suite of Five Stabs at 60

by Audie McCall

---

Palindrome

EMMA: Think! Don't sit there. What are you thinking?

BOB: Sorry?

EMMA: Are you really? Now? Here?

BOB: I am.

EMMA: Wish I could believe you.

BOB: Do.

EMMA: I can't.

BOB: Can't you?

EMMA: But you love to want--

BOB: I--

EMMA: --Me.

BOB: Absolutely!

EMMA: Not love. You love not absolutely.

BOB: No, love.

EMMA: But me. I want to love you.

BOB: But you can't.

EMMA: Can't I?

BOB: Do you believe?

EMMA: Could I?

BOB: Wish. Just . . .

EMMA: I--

BOB: Am I here now?

EMMA: You are sorry thinking you are--

BOB: What?

EMMA: -- There.

BOB: Sit. Don't think.

(End of play.)

---

Double Clock

KID: How long is now?

GROWNUP: Hmmm. Well. I don't know. `Bout a minute?

KID: No. Now is longer than that.

GROWNUP: Or shorter.

KID: Now can be an afternoon.

GROWNUP: Or a breath.

KID: In or out?

GROWNUP: Both.

KID: Or an Elmo.

GROWNUP: Okay. But only one.

KID: I'm with you now.

GROWNUP: Me, too.

KID: You're with me.

GROWNUP: Always and forever.

KID: Now.

GROWNUP: Yeah.

(End of play.)

---

Devotion

story by RangyJoeyHondo

(Lights upon a waiting room in a psychiatrist's office. A male and female patient sit reading magazines, preferably from the 60's.)

FEMALE PATIENT: Waiting long?

MALE PATIENT: Seems like forever.

FEMALE PATIENT: Here to see Dr. Goodyear?

MALE PATIENT: Yes. I believe that's correct.

FEMALE PATIENT: Me, too.

MALE PATIENT: I'm an amnesiac.

FEMALE PATIENT: Yes, me too. That's his specialty.

MALE PATIENT: Yes. I think I knew that.

FEMALE PATIENT: I'm a special case. My husband and I were in an accident. Now we both suffer from amnesia.

MALE PATIENT: You know, I have a very similar case. A sort of tragedy struck my wife and I and we both have absolutely severe memory damage. Or so I recall. . . Dr. Goodyear. . . . saying something about . . . .

FEMALE PATIENT: Yes.

MALE PATIENT: Well, that's quite--

FEMALE PATIENT: Fascinating.

MALE PATIENT: Yes.

(They turn and look each other in the eye.
Beat.
They turn back away.
Beat.)

FEMALE PATIENT: Oh my gosh, these doctors sure like to make you wait.

MALE PATIENT: They sure seem to, don't they?

(They return to reading their magazines.
Fade to black.