this is my dull life. this is my dull life on drugs. this is a haiku.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Some things are best told in a more dramatic manner.

Coleman wanted me to write about this, so I did. Hopefully no one here is a great fan of rational thought... I think the only audience who would ever enjoy this play would be... deaf... babies. And even then, only if it had a lot of flashy colors and a venue with variously-textured items which hung from the rafters.


{BASEMENT ROOM on 12 HATCHER STREET. A large 3-storey house with central heating containing a duct that goes from the floor of COLEMAN's room upstairs to the ceiling of PATRICK's room in the basement. PATRICK sits on his bed, contemplating important-like chemistry things while surrounded by books and looking suave in his black velvet housecoat. It is very silky and smooth. Masterpiece Theatre theme is playing in background.}

COLEMAN enters.

I've got it! The most ridiculous, stupid idea ever! I can't belief I didn't think of it yesterday!

What now Coleman? Can't you see I'm studying?

But this is super important.

As important as when, at 4 o'clock in the morning as we lay in our beds in residence, you felt it necessary to host a whistling competition -- A whistling competition in which you falsely claimed championship and continued to fashion yourself a crown out of construction paper. A wicked crown based on lies and deceit and goddamn horrible whistling?

At least twice as important as that.

Ok well in that case, what are you thinking?

(Walking beneath and inspecting ducts running along ceiling.)
Do you think that this duct in your ceiling comes right down from my room to yours?

Well... we do talk through it all the time, but there's got to be some twists and... U-joints in it. It can't go 3 floors straight down...

I think we should test it out. I've got a ridiculous, stupid idea that I've been working on all morning.

As much as I do love ridiculous and stupid ideas, I am currently studying and wearing a black velvet housecoat. It is very silky and smooth. I have no time for your shinanigans tonight.

Come on...


Splendid! I'm going to go pour water down my vent, and then we can figure out where it comes out. Hopefully.

(Moving to below duct.)
Ok, I'll stand beneath the ducts and monitor the situation from down here.

(COLEMAN exits. Fade out.)

{UPSTAIRS ROOM on 12 HATCHER STREET. Stair climbing sounds, before fading in as COLEMAN enters with a glass of water.}

(Moving to the vent.)
You ready Pat?

PATRICK (Offstage.)
Ow! Yes. But the duct is really hot from all the heat going through it.

OK, I'm pouring it down now...

(Pours water down vent.)

PATRICK (Offstage.)
Hey! I can hear it! It's coming straight down into the pipes...

Aha! I am victorious! I am champion!

PATRICK (Offstage.)
What? How is there any concievable way in which this was a competition? -- Oh wait...


The duct is getting very cold along the bottom...

Really? How very interesting...

PATRICK (Offstage.)
Wait a second... (Pause.)

Ahhhhh! My books! My precious notes! Ahhhh! A bucket! Coleman, bring a bucket! Quick!!!

(Cut to black. Sound of heavy footsteps running downstairs.)

{BASEMENT ROOM again. PATRICK has his hands cupped below the ceiling ventilation ducts, which are rapidly leaking water all over his notes and room.}

(COLEMAN enters with a bucket, trailed by ANDRE. Both laughing.)

PATRICK (Angrily kicking notes and books out of the way.)
Hurry you idiot! My hands are getting full! This was a horrible idea!

COLEMAN (Placing bucket beneath the leak and placing his arm around PATRICK.)
Well, at least we all learned a valuable lesson...

I hate you.

(Tuba plays the WAOW WOAW sound.)
(Fade out.)

{Spotlight fades in on OLD MAN sitting on a stool front stage right. A SMALL CHILD is sitting on his lap as he holds a large, old-looking book.}

OLD MAN (Closing book.)
And that, my young boy, is another tale of Patrick and Coleman's failed attempt to lead the lives of mature, liberated members of society.

But what happens next Grandpapa? What happens to Patrick and Coleman?

I can't tell you that! There are so many more stories to tell before we get to the end!

Please Grandpapa?

Oh fine. Patrick wins 182 million dollars with which he buys a small tropical island and donates the rest to The Jump Rope for Heart foundation. He later discovers that he's been conned into buying a large floating sandbox supported entirely by pool noodles. And Coleman dies. Of gonorrhea. I'm told it was very painful.

(Masterpiece Theatre theme fades in as OLD MAN and SMALL CHILD walk offstage. CHUCK NORRIS enters stage right. CHUCK NORRIS does 3 backflips and a round-house kick. CHUCK NORRIS exits stage left. Lights fade out with Masterpiece Theatre theme.)


Man -- I'm awesome. Take that Shakespeare. Bitch please.
I suppose I should stop procrastinating and get back to studying...