Possibly Morbid

AT RISE:

A dank, smoky room. DOUG, KYLE and RALPHIE sit around a table. A dead body sits slumped in a fourth seat and a gun lies on the table.

DOUG:
You know what would make Russian Roulette more fun?

KYLE:
What?

DOUG:
Nerf weapons.

RALPHIE:
Just take your damn turn, Doug.

DOUG:
...Pass.

KYLE:
What?

DOUG:
Pass. I pass. I uh... forfeit my turn.

KYLE:
You can't forfeit your turn.

DOUG:
Says who?

RALPHIE:
Says the rules.

DOUG sighs.

DOUG:
Fine.

He takes a playing card out of his pocket, and throws it one the table.

DOUG:
Reverse!

KYLE:
You have got to be kidding me.

Ralphie examines the card.

RALPHIE:
It's an "Uno" card.

KYLE:
What?

DOUG:
Uno? You know, only the best party game ever. Now if you don't mind, I believe it's your turn.

KYLE:
Pick up the damn gun, Doug.

Doug gulps audibly and picks up the gun. He presses it to his temple.

DOUG:
(out of the corner of his mouth)
...Click. Oh man, close call. Whew. Well, it's been a pleasure guys, but I should really go home and feed the cats, right? Right. Again, awesome time, really. Uh...later.

He turns to leave, still holding the gun.

RALPHIE:
Aren't you forgetting something there, Doug?

DOUG:
Hmm? Oh yeah, of course.
(beat)
Uh... Good game. Thanks?
(beat)
No?

KYLE:
No.

DOUG:
Fine. I'll just, uh, leave it here then.

He gingerly places the gun on the floor, and makes to leave.

DOUG:
Again guys, thanks a bunch. And uh, great seeing you guys again. Bye!

He bolts off stage. Ralphie and Kyle consider the gun for a moment, then look at each other.

RALPHIE:
This is why I never invite guys from the office.

BLACKOUT. END PLAY.